In a family of godmen, a clean baba stands out like a white sheep. That, however, does not stop people from stooping to charlatans in robes and matted hair. And the reason is simple: these godmen happily stomp on grounds where scientists fear to tread.
What facts can help figure out the beginning of the beginning, or how something came out of nothing? Alternatively, which experiment can explain the end of the end, or what it is to be dead? It’s a mug’s game to press scientists to find solutions to these questions, because they are actually riddles. In one case, the answer lies before a fact was born and, in the other, after a fact has gone.
Riddles, however, are the staple of godmen, mystics and saints. It is not enough to know why wood floats, stones sink or how planes fly. Science can tell us about these and much more, but that does not stop us from speculating on the wonder of life or the darkness of death. When all is said and done, no matter the quantum leaps in knowledge, those niggling, nettlesome issues will still remain.
It is not just the illiterate and the uncouth who ask questions which have no real answers. Some of the best scientists too have been assailed by similar doubts, especially after their lab hours are over. In short, this line of inquisitiveness is a universal failing — a quest that has no real solution. It is in this empty space that the godman strikes, with nothing more than a prayer and a song.
As these eternal questions have, and will, torment us forever, there is no getting out of the fear and the awe of the supernatural. Consequently, whenever there is despair, or when the future is uncertain, or when terror stalks the soul, the godman gets a near open invitation, all expenses paid. Scientific advance concedes empty knowledge spaces, but as faith abhors a vacuum it readily serves up answers to the unanswerables. At this level there is just no contest — science has to concede.
No doubt, there were great ascetics and kind and generous faith leaders who, at tremendous personal cost, often gave succour to the masses in times of great distress. From Jesus, to Muhammad, to Vivekananda and even Dayananda Saraswati, we have had such heroes who shored up our spirits and gave us strength. The truth, however, is that when these great souls depart, they leave behind followers who are human — all too human. As they lack the charisma of their gurus, they reduce the substance of their teachings to miracles and magic.
To blame Indians, or Hindus, alone for being prone to mystics and godmen would be unfair and unjust. What remains true is that godmen do extraordinarily well in our country than in most others we know of, and that is where the puzzle lies. Is our society more vulnerable? Or, is Hinduism particularly susceptible? Or, does this show up so blatantly among us because of the way we practise democracy and secularism?
Or, is it a combination of the above?
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Hindus may or may not be overly religious, but that should not excuse politicians when they include babas in their power calculations. Most societies are religious and yet, if they are democracies, it is important that they keep faith in its place. The French did this job remarkably well when in 1905 they banned the wearing of religious symbols, notably the cross, by government functionaries. This angered the Pope and he railed against this “ungodly” policy from St. Peter’s Square. The French President of the day stood firm and eventually the Catholic Church retreated. Today, there are vibrant churches in France, but there is vibrant democracy too. As Hegel famously said, by separating church from state we are actually doing both a favour. A time comes in every democracy’s life to call a spade a spade and not draw and redraw lines in the sand.
Secularism truly means keeping religion out of politics. Likewise, democracy truly means keeping politics out of religion. Distort either one and you muck up the other.
India?s godman syndrome - The Hindu
