Abstract
Contrary to widely held opinion that the Mahabharata exposes human autonomy and agency as utterly deprived in the face of omnipotent forces such as destiny, time and God, Dalmiya and Mukherji’s insightful introduction (‘To Do’, pp. 1–27) to this book argues that the epic simultaneously affirms ethical intent, initiative and action. They suggest that the Mahabharata provides a complicated, nuanced gloss on the question whether humans are ever free to do what they choose, as it ‘affords not only an entire range of ideas on the question of free will and agency but [also] rehearses the central debates across various philosophical standpoints prevalent during its own time’ (p. 2).
Dalmiya and Mukherji here parse agency as the capacity of ‘making something happen’ or ‘doing’, which allows them to place it within a conceptual web with two other nodes, action (kriya, karman) and agent (karta). As this triad of agency–action–agent has significant ethical and political implications, they underline that by choosing to take any initiative, an agent negotiates his/her identity and emerges as virtuous or otherwise. Similarly, the agent’s ability to act is often inscribed within socio-political institutions and the social order might not allow certain subjectivities to emerge as agents of progressive democratic change.
The world of the Mahabharata, however, does not quite make room for the triangular matrix of agency–action–agent to stay on sure ground. As Dalmiya and Mukherji argue, the epic exhibits strong tendencies that undermine human initiative altogether. The Bhagavadgita, for example, calls on the agent to act, but does not allow him/her to claim this action as belonging to him/her. Additionally, the Gita completely subverts the authority that the agent ascribes to him/herself as the ‘doer’ of an action by implying that such claiming of actions is an egotistical gesture, an exercise in ahamkara (p. 4). Consequently, they suggest that it might be too simplistic to imagine the Mahabharata to only depict careful negotiation of the freedom-determinism duality, as widely prevalent in Western thought and cultures. The epic couples action with dharma by destabilising the doer and thus places agency squarely within complicated, multi-layered dharmic contexts.
Towards the end, Dalmiya and Mukherji highlight a curious aspect relating to the Mahabharata as an epic text (pp. 16–8). From a pedagogic perspective, they argue that the epic exercises agency to ‘make something happen’, to bring about change in its listeners/readers. In fact, they suggest that it adopts various strategies like retelling, to fulfil its mission as an itihasa, an instructive document of the past and align its listeners/readers with dharma (p. 16). As a result, the text lends itself to retellings that mark it with varying ethical and political inflections and situate it within a polyphonic web while rendering it as tradition.
In light of this introductory discussion, the editors club the 12 essays under three headings, ‘Action’ (pp. 29–106), ‘Actor’ (pp. 107–94) and ‘Epic Agency and Retellings’ (pp. 195–246). The first part anthologises four essays, the second comprises of five pieces and the concluding section has three essays. S.C. Bhattacharya’s opening essay, ‘Mahabharata. Itihasa. Agency’ (pp. 31–44) perceptively reflects on the significance of the Mahabharata conceiving itself as itihasa and not kavya (poetry). Bhattacharya suggests that itihasa does not exactly correspond to ‘history’, but imagines parts of the past as useful examples that can propel listeners/readers towards dharma. He also argues that the past enjoys agency in the Mahabharata in the form of karma, the accountability of individuals towards their actions. The rest of the essay studies Karna’s character in the epic text, reading the much-admired hero’s life as demonstrating both the agency of the past as well as its limitations (p. 38).
‘In Search of Genuine Agency: A Review of Action, Freedom and Karma in the Mahabharata’ (pp. 45–61), by Amita Chatterjee, explores these issues by identifying points of convergence between selected stories from the Mahabharata and the Donald Davidsonian scheme of action, action-explanation and agency. ‘The Theory of Karma in the Mahabharata’ (pp. 62–80) by C.G. Framarin convincingly argues against the widely held view that the account of karma provided by the Mahabharata is too simplistic and impoverished. Framarin asserts that the epic is justified in being suspicious of contemporary evaluations of karma that make use of the term samskara to refer to a subset of states that orient the agent towards having an occurrent desire. The Mahabharata, instead, justifiably assumes that desires themselves propel agents towards repeating actions that had produced pleasurable results for them in the past (pp. 77–8). In ‘Karmayoga and the Vexed Moral Agent’ (pp. 81–106), Arti Dhand offers a passionate ethical evaluation of articulations and representations of karmayoga, suggesting that a certain duality marks its presentation in the epic text. While it is a praiseworthy technique for achieving soteriological liberation through the cultivation of equanimity, self-discipline and contentment with one’s lot in life, it is also the remainder of a Brahmanical viewpoint that prioritises social order and stability over ethics and morality and, ultimately, creates hurdles for strengthening social justice.
In part 2, ‘Complexities in the Agency for Violence: A Look at the Mahabharata’ (pp. 109–28) by G. Mukherji examines in detail how instrumental violence serves as a political and psychological receptacle enabling the expression of human agency. State violence, Mukherji argues, is seen as justified in the epic as it is supposed to enact justice and preserve the social order operating within the larger schema of dharma. Curiously, however, the Mahabharata also reflects on the psychological impact of war and the trauma suffered by its survivors from both sparring sides. This, according to Mukherji, serves as an indirect critique of the agency of violence that the text otherwise upholds, at the risk of marginalising socio-political tendencies inclined towards revolutionary violence. In ‘Irresolution and Agency: The Case of Yudhisthira’ (pp. 129–42), Shirshendu Chakrabarti presents a nuanced argument against the commonplace view of Yudhisthira as ‘a colourless character, vacillating and irresolute in nature’ (p. 129). Chakrabarti argues that a certain inscrutability characterises Yudhisthira and does not allow him to reconcile his contradictory impulses. In the pragmatic sphere, it may appear as irresolution, but is the key to understanding the agency that the eldest of the Pandavas enjoys in the epic text. This is so because within Yudhisthira, the inscrutability manifests as unrelenting self-questioning that provides him with a sense of contentment and freedom.
Arindam Chakrabarti’s ‘Can the Subhuman Speak or Act? Agency of Sagacious Serpents, Benevolent Birds, Rational Rodents, and a Mocking Mongoose in the Mahabharata’ (pp. 143–61) grapples with the wonder that listeners/readers of the epic experience when they encounter talking snakes, fish, birds and animals in its narrative. Most of these beings also exhibit intelligence, reasoning, empathy and wisdom, which are shown by the epic to have become quite rare in the human world. Through a reading of selected stories, Chakrabarti seeks to establish that such representation is an attempt towards opening a third point of view, a trans-species outlook that judges humans from a shared non-human subject-position (p. 144).
Uma Chakravarti argues in ‘Textual-Sextual Transitions: The Reification of Women in the Mahabharata’ (pp. 162–78) that the Mahabharata portrays a range of sexual practices without necessarily passing moral judgements on them. She asserts that the epic does not raise fundamental ethical questions regarding reproductive practices, even as it clearly does so in relation to acts of killing or lying. Bhishma’s abduction of the Kasi princesses on the occasion of their self-choice (swayamvara) attracts Chakravarti’s particular attention in this context. In ‘Ekalavya and the Possibility of Learning’ (pp. 179–94), Sundar Sarukkai explores the ethical inflections involved in Drona asking for Ekalavya’s thumb. He underlines that Ekalavya cuts off his thumb in a moment of absolute lack of reflection and asks what the criteria might be to evaluate such ‘spontaneous ethical action’ (p. 179). Sarukkai also insightfully argues that an enquiry into the relationship between spontaneous action and reflective ethics as inscribed in the epic’s narrative is intertwined with an analysis of ethics of presence and absence. Drona, for instance, is absent as the ‘real’ teacher from Ekalavya’s life. Sarukkai ends with an intriguing but cogently argued assertion that the episode involving Drona and Ekalavya can be read as an allegory for the entirety of the text, as its ethical consideration entails thinking about the motivations of a subject for future action that he/she may undertake (pp. 180–3).
In part 3, ‘Tagore’s Reading of the Mahabharata’ (pp. 197–213) by Sudipta Kaviraj seeks to account for the significance usually ascribed to Tagore’s dialogic retelling of the story of Karna from the Mahabharata. Specifically regarding the episode depicting Karna’s meeting with Kunti, Kaviraj argues that Tagore not only displays great sensitivity towards Karna’s view about his proposed support for Duryodhana in the impending war, but also blends a novelistic and narratorial polyphony with the epic text.
‘Answerability Between Lived Life and Living Text: Chronotopicity in Finding Agency in the Mahabharata’ (pp. 214–31), by Lakshmi Bandlamudi, explores the relation between the Mahabharata and its various listeners/readers spread across time and space from a Bakhtinian perspective. She explores the meanings and contexts surrounding the question of agency in the epic text within a dialogic framework. The episode that particularly attracts her is the debate between Draupadi and Yudhisthira on forgiveness in the Vana Parva. She also pays attention to debates around agency enjoyed by Kunti in the epic text with the aid of Bakhtinian tools of critical analysis, such as answerability and chronotopicity.
In the concluding essay, ‘Drona in the Ekalavya Episode in Sarala Mahabharata’ (pp. 232–46), B.N. Patnaik discusses the ethical and political significance of the role played by Drona in the Ekalavya episode of Sarala Mahabharata, the most acclaimed work of the Odia poet Sarala Das, or Das, believed to have been composed in the fifteenth century. In this Puranic retelling, according to Patnaik, Das not only makes Krishna an all-pervasive presence but also departs from the narrative ascribed to Vyasa in other prominent ways. One of the most significant differences is Ekalavya’s insistance that Drona should accept his thumb as guru dakshina (p. 241), a gift to the teacher. Drona accedes to this offering, for he believes that Ekalavya is spiteful and has ‘stolen’ knowledge. Yet, as Patnaik argues, there is a complex political layering to this acceptance as portrayed in Sarala Mahabharata. It appears that Drona effectively disarms the archer Ekalavya by receiving his thumb, as he considers Ekalavya a potent young warrior representing the interests of marginalised tribal and forest-dwelling peoples.
As these chapter summaries reveal, this book is undoubtedly a detailed, nuanced and welcome addition to the critical literature on the Mahabharata. Its essays not only respond to questions about agency that the editors raise in the introduction but also speak with each other, making this a significant addition to existing scholarly knowledge about ethics, aesthetics and politics in the Indian and larger South Asian contexts.