Book Review: History in History by Eugenia Vanina

Eugenia Vanina, History in History: Interpretations of the Indian Pasts. Delhi: Primus Books, 2024. Pp. 420. Price: Rs 1795. (Reviewed in The Book Review, Volume 49, No. 7, July 2025).

 

Raziuddin Aquil

Eminent Russian scholar Dr Eugenia Vanina of the Institute of Indian Studies, Russian Academy of Sciences in Moscow, Russia, has published this impressive book on the evolution of the conception of history in India in different historical eras. It brings the narrative down to modern times when the past has become a dangerous battleground with different partisan groups struggling to create their own historical interpretations. What is at stake in this struggle is the country’s historic identity and integrity. As someone deeply devoted to the study of Indian history and culture - a foreigner, outsider, and impartial scholar and yet seriously concerned about the state of the nation today, Vanina suggests, almost pleads: ‘Since a consensus is more socially beneficial than conflict, I allowed myself, in the debates on the past, to hope for the former as a part of my overwhelming wish for India’s better future’ (pp. 16-17). This is a long time yearning and aspiration of the author, as the book was previously published in Russian in 2014, with the assumption that India’s historically acclaimed and multidimensional intellectual resources are of great value across the world. She writes: ‘I just wanted to give my compatriots both information on India, the country that enjoys a very friendly and favourable attitude of the Russian people, and also provide fodder to analyse their own relations with history’ (p. 16). Thus, long standing contestations around India’s history and its varied literary and historical traditions from the very ancient past down to the present - glorious or not - require continuous examination to understand all their varieties and complexities.

Vanina has masterfully dealt with the critical themes and issues in this book, History in History, in four detailed chapters, in addition to an introduction, conclusion, bibliography, and index. All of these are elegantly put together and efficiently presented in the book, for which the publisher, Primus, also deserves commendation. The author begins with what she calls history as ‘morale’, which presented precolonial precepts and values relevant to the time – a complex political and intellectual legacy – flawed understanding of which created huge difficulties in the future. This is followed by chapters on the dubious colonial project of history and desperate nationalist responses in which the past was used to combat the present and build an agreeable future. In attempting to make sense of the aggressive colonial subjugation of the country, Indian intellectuals – Hindus and Muslims – tried to analyse the events and processes of precolonial history and the reasons for defeat of the Indian rulers. They did not know, reminds Vanina, that ‘the new rulers of India would almost totally negate their subjects’ capabilities and right to think, speak and write about their past’ (p. 59). Further, the postcolonial struggles over identities and memories of communities regarding their past have turned history into a battlefield, which the author has examined with considerable sympathy and concern for the future.

Going back to the history of history-writing in India, the medieval bards were expected to praise the Rajput kings’ valour and generosity and refrain from speaking ill or sounding as if they were abusing or defying them. Therefore, caught in complete obligation and submission, medieval bards were not historiographers in the modern sense. They worked with a literary templet of ‘ornate descriptions, fantastic adventures and amorous feats’ to glorify the credentials of their royal patrons (pp. 31-32). No questions were raised out of fear of punishment, and all efforts were made to make the king feel like a God. All these were for some cheap rewards. As Vanina puts it, modern historians are unable to accept such folkloric and outlandish stuff as true accounts of the past. Separating facts from fiction in bardic poems and biographies will require extraordinary historical resources and intellectual capacities, as well as labour and stamina (p. 32). But then, as the author points out: ‘To reproach medieval Indian bardic poems and historical ballads with absence of “Scientific accuracy”, “research and factual truth”, and even “modern concept of history” is like criticizing medieval kings for not using air force in their battles’ (p. 33).

Going forward, Kalhana had showed the way in Kashmir in the middle of the twelfth century, in terms of the possibility of a more reliable, dispassionate, and scholarly account of the past. His famous Rajatarangini was regarded in posterity as a model for writing a credible history in Sanskrit poetry. The primary purpose of this fascinating text was to beautifully recreate the past in a manner that made it appear as if the events were happening virtually before one’s eyes and close to one’s ears. In the decades to come, politics and history-writing underwent drastic changes, with Persianised central Asian Turks establishing large Sultanates which were backed by a new scholarly apparatus. One of the finest ideologues and historians, himself growing out of the political system, Ziya-ud-Din Barani emphasised, in the middle of the fourteenth century, on the need to speak truth to power, directly or otherwise, and no fudging of facts with regard to rulers of the past. Historiography was poised to flourish in centuries to come, with tremendous progress especially under Mughal emperor Jalal-ud-Din Muhammad Akbar in the late sixteenth century. This was so not only with the works of emperor’s ‘loyal friend and admirer Abu-l Fazl, but by the writings of emphatically neutral Nizam ud-din Ahmad and uncompromisingly critical Abd al-Qadir Badauni’ (pp. 42-43). Even as the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries witnessed Persian history-writing by Hindus, mainly government officials under various Muslim rulers, Hindu authors continued to write fantastic bardic poems and glorified histories of various regional dynasties. In this way, as Vanina notes, ‘the Muslim “epics of conquest” were counterpoised by a considerable number of Hindu “counter-epics” of resistance’ (p. 43).

The Hindu-Muslim faultlines thus created were to be exploited horribly during the British colonial rule, especially in the nineteenth century, the consequences of which are still seen in the continuously aggravating communal relations in the country, besides the arbitrary division of the subcontinent politically ripping it apart in a completely unjustifiable manner. Intellectual integrity and political sagacity demand that respectful coexistence of the wide diversity of people, which have historically come down to modern times with all their varied beliefs and practices, is the way forward. However, the wounds of the past, whether imagined or real, continue to be exploited by shrewd politicians who pit people against one another, creating a situation in which reconciliations are increasingly becoming impossible. Meanwhile, the notion of violations of the past, which need to be revenged by capturing power in the present, has spread from the usual Hindu-Muslim binary to other kinds of grievances based on ethnic, caste, regional, and linguistic identities. All of these seek historical resources and writings, as in many Indian vernaculars, further challenging a larger and inclusive national narrative, which in Vanina’s opinion, is a desperate need of the hour in favour of the country’s peace and prosperity. The warring communities have, thus, made history a veritable battlefield. In such a situation, knowing history no longer remains an intellectual prerogative; it becomes a deadly weapon rashly used against imagined enemies, with absolutely no regard for mercy and kindness, let alone the truth. The post-truth narrative justifies all kinds of irrationalities in the public domain. The knowledge of history is biggest loser in this volatile political situation.

Ever optimistic, Vanina records that there may be ‘differences and even conflicts, but on the majority of events and actors of the past there is usually a national agreement’ in favour of ‘mutual respect for differing feelings and affiliations’ (pp. 338-39). This is true for politics and history on an international scale. In India, in Vanina’s opinion, the battles over the past indicate ‘absence of consensus’ on what constitutes the Indian nation and whom does it include. Following Partha Chatterjee, one may note that the national core comprised ideologues and people with different shades of Hindu identity, while the periphery had large sections of people rendered marginalised for social and historical reasons. Within the core also, there is a major division between secular nationalists with a modern and progressive outlook and those with a regressive Hindu identity. The latter has got an upper hand in recent decades through electoral success both at the centre and in several states. This has created further difficulties for people who were already marginalised as fragments at the periphery of the nation-state.

 For Vanina, the desired ‘consensus may take a considerable time to be achieved’; if so, battles over the emotionally charged memories and histories of heroes and villains or of events to be proud of or mourned and be ashamed about will ‘continue and themselves become a significant part of the country’s history’ (p. 339). The author concludes that despite the ‘frightening signs and clashes’, she has a ‘firm belief that India will be able to reconcile itself with its history and establish a concept of a common past that is relevant to the common present and future’. This belief is ‘based not upon the emotions of my decades-long association with India and Indians, but by the research about India’s historical experience which has become an integral and crucial part of the country’s identity and integrity’ (p. 372). This is so, despite the fact that the pursuit of history as knowledge production is increasingly giving way to battles over the past in the service of contemporary politics, the consequences of which are evident in the charged and bloodthirsty public domain. Both the author and this reviewer hope that sanity will eventually prevail, with all interested parties drawing some much-needed lessons from the past and history.

Raziuddin Aquil is Professor of History, University of Delhi. His areas of research and teaching interests include religious traditions, literary cultures and political practices in medieval and early modern India.