Prayer

[Mathew Moothasseril]

A prayer for our times
Rajeev Bhargava
March 19, 2019 00:02 IST
Updated: March 18, 2019 23:25 IST



Unsound judgments and faulty moral reasoning are not the lot of
leaders alone — but also of those who support them

As all of us ordinary citizens recovered from the carnage in Pulwama,
and wondered how the government would respond to this latest instance
of cross-border terrorism, one television channel showed us poignant
images of grieving relatives of the fallen soldiers. While a few,
driven by moral hatred for the perpetrators, were understandably
crying for revenge, others, even at this moment of utmost suffering,
spoke of the futility of retaliation. “It would only bring similar
suffering to fellow humans,” said one widow from the rural hinterland.
Hers was a cry for peace, not for vengeful violence. “War can only be
the last resort, after everything else has failed,” she wisely
counselled.
War and patriotism

Yes, war is sometimes necessary, especially in self-defence. But one
doesn’t have to be an unconditional pacifist to acknowledge the
misfortunes it begets or to decry war mongering. Nor is readiness to
go to war the only indicator of patriotism. True, patriots must be
prepared to die in defence of their ‘patria’, their mother or
fatherland. But one is not any less a patriot if one strives for
everyone in his country living peacefully, happily, flourishing,
leading life to its fullness. Fighting the daily challenges faced by
their countrymen, seeking to improve their lot, always loving them and
their habitat, and expressing this love in word or deed as the
occasion demands is the everyday vocation of a patriot.

A country at war is different. War is disruptive, and because it is
lethal and involves human sacrifice, a patriot must eschew any bravado
about it. This is particularly expected from contemporary leaders,
patriots who never themselves go to war; quite unlike the past where
the ruler who declared war was expected to always lead from the front
on the battlefield. After all, it is our Army officers and jawans who
die, not the ones who call for and support war. Our rulers move about
with elaborate security to protect their own lives. If they don’t
allow others to play with their lives, they must ensure that no one
plays with the life of their countrymen, most of all our soldiers.
Decisions on war must then be taken responsibly, without haste, not
for spectacular effect or as tactical ploys in a game.

The inner workings of the human mind are mysterious, however. For it
is not these thoughts that crossed my mind when I saw those moving
images on television. This reasoning is retrospective; thoughts that
have occurred to me now, post-facto. At that time, a strange melange
of emotions — feelings of grief, despair, shame, nostalgia — curdled
up and then suddenly, from nowhere, the lyrics of an immortal song by
Sahir Ludhianvi, set to tune by Jaidev and sung melodiously by Lata
Mangeshkar in the 1961 Dev Anand classic Hum Dono, came unbidden to
mind: “Maangon ka sindoor na chhutey, maa behenon ki aas naa tootey
(may no one be widowed; may no mother or sister lose hope of their
loved one returning).”
Prayer for peace and wisdom

In the film, these lines are part of a prayer for peace led by the
wife and mother of a Major of the Indian Army missing in action — a
prayer not only that their own loved one returns home safe but that no
wife, mother or sister may lose loved ones in war. Death in war is an
interruption, an anomaly. It takes away from us young, active, lively
persons who have not yet lived their full life. When a soldier dies in
the prime of life, he leaves many tasks unfinished, many relationships
incomplete, millions of desires unfulfilled. And according to popular
belief, when a person at the height of his powers meets a bloody,
violent, untimely end, his prana or atman remains in limbo, trapped in
no man’s land; it leaves the body without reaching wherever it is
meant to go and keeps hovering around us. May this never happen to
anyone, says the poet. “Deh bina bhatke na praan (may the spirit not
abruptly detach from the body and wander restlessly).”

But this mellifluous song is more than a comforting prayer for peace.
It subtly points fingers at those who injudiciously push us into war,
at the economically strong and politically powerful who bring war upon
us for their own benefit, to serve their own nefarious purpose. “O
saare jag ke rakhawaale, nirbal ko bal dene waale, balwaanon ko de de
gyaan (jnana) (you, who watch over the entire universe, you who
empower the weak, may you also grant wisdom to the mighty).”

Jnana here refers not simply to knowledge, but to wisdom, moral
insight, indeed to conscience. May the rulers rule with a conscience!
May they be able to distinguish right conduct from wrong. Really, only
such people should guide us when we are faced with the dilemma of
whether or not to undertake morally retributive action.

And this is not all. The prayer then becomes a plea that we all be
endowed with sanmati — to put our intelligence to good use, to have
sound judgments, that all have a conscience. Why? Because unsound
judgments, faulty moral reasoning and suspension of good sense are not
the lot of leaders alone but also of those who support them and
legitimise their actions. It is after all we, ordinary folks, who are
swayed by war hysteria. Those without good sense get the leaders they
deserve. May the gift of sanmati be bestowed on us. For only people
with sanmati can rein in leaders who have lost all sense of good and
bad, right and wrong.
A civilisational anchor

But who is this prayer addressed to? “Allah tero naam, Ishwar tero
naam (You, whose name is both Allah and Ishwar). In this, his
masterstroke, Sahir invokes not only Gandhi, but an entire,
centuries-old religio-philosophical legacy of the subcontinent in
which all traditions are believed to share the same semantic universe
that enables the god of one religion to be translated into the god of
another. This is inclusive monotheism at its best, where god is one
but referred to in different traditions by different names. And so,
the prayer is addressed to Allah, Ishwar, and implicitly to the god of
every religion.

With men spewing venom, not satisfied with fighting a war with their
own fellow countrymen, itching to go to war with others, nothing
(empathy, reason, dialogue) seems to work. Helpless spectators, no
longer in control of their collective life, in sight of a looming
disaster on the horizon, often break into a prayer. What else can
those stripped of agency do but hope that somehow good sense may
prevail, that all of us be delivered from the collective insanity that
shows no sign of loosening its grip? Thus, those who believe in one
god, invoke him; those who believe in gods and goddesses, invoke them;
and those who believe in neither, hope for some good fortune to fall
in their lap! This is why this is a prayer for our times: we offer
this prayer to you, Allah to some, Ishwar to others, that you
miraculously bring an end to needless killings, wisdom and conscience
to the rich and powerful, and peace and good sense to everyone.

Rajeev Bhargava is Professor, Centre for the Study of Developing
Societies, Delhi


--
*GATHER THE SCATTERED*

Fr Mathew Moothasseril
Sant Thoma Bhavan
Post Box 306
RAMAN MALA
Kolhapur,416 003
Maharashtra
INDIA