Does the world need a 700-page book about one people within the Indian Union? Considering that Gujaratis number 65 to 70 million, you could argue that they deserve as much attention as, say, the French. Indeed, Ted Zeldin’s “The History of French Passions” only covers the period 1848-1945 in twice as many pages. Western readers accept the availability of over 260 current books on French history, while having access to less than 20 on the history of India in its entirety, and only a couple of titles covering Bengal or, say, Tamil Nadu. The challenge author Salil Tripathi faces is to justify his exhaustive survey of the Gujaratis, a topic not hallowed in historiography in the way that the French are.
The first task Tripathi executes is to define who the Gujuratis are, a people living both in the state of Gujarat as well as Maharashtra, and also spread all over the world. While coastal Gujarat has a distinctive identity dating back centuries, and was a flourishing sultanate before its absorption into the Mughal empire, under the British Raj it formed part of the Bombay presidency. Bombay/Mumbai remains an important metropole for Gujaratis, even though it is now the capital of neighboring Maharashtra. Nevertheless, argues Tripathi, speaking Gujarati unifies them, as does the celebration of baby showers, as does the habit of married women avoiding referring to their husband’s names. These and other subtle characteristics apply to many otherwise diverse sub-groups, including Hindus of several castes, Parsis (Zoroastrians), Sunni Muslims, Shia Muslims (from Iran), Bohra Muslims (from Fatimid Egypt), and Jains (a sister religion to Buddhism, which, unlike it, never died out in India proper). This common identity does not, deplores Tripathi, rule out inter-Gujarati communal violence, with the capital Ahmedabad earning the reputation for the worst riots, and the state’s former first minister and now federal premier, Narendra Modi considered by many of his opponents as the formentor-in-chief.
While Gujaratis quarrel about who has a right to belong to Gujarat at home, they have been successful in establishing themselves as valued citizens abroad. One thinks of Gandhi’s contribution to the African National Congress, or to the belated acknowledgement of their contributions to Uganda, a generation after Idi Amin shortsightedly drove them out. Tripathi tells the saga of the Patel clan valiantly manning motels across the American Midwest, leveraging family solidarity to get on the first or second rung of capitalism, and often succeeding in the sweepstakes we call the American dream. Gujarati’s thrift, patience and reliability are values that have served them and their host communities well.
Despite their commercial talents, Gujaratis can hold their own in the fiercely competitive arena of Indian literary achievements, Tripathi argues. Both the Bengalis and the Marathas surpass them in self-promotion, however, while the lack of translations make their work less visible in the English-reading world. Nevertheless it would be surprising if such a prosperous and cosmopolitan community did not produce its share of poets, playwrights, novelists and essayists. Few, if any, of these names will be familiar to readers, but Tripathi does a good job of highlighting their efforts, and making one wish for readily available translations.
One of the charms of Tripathi’s narrative is his knack for reminding readers of how Gujarat touches our lives. A Parsi merchant built the HMS Minden, the ship on which Frances Scott Key composed “The Star Spangled Banner”. The Gujarati flight from Uganda is chronicled in Mira Nair’s 1991 film, Mississippi Masala. What traveler in the American Midwest has not stayed at a hotel managed by a Gujarati Patel? One indeed gets the impression that Gujaratis have made their imprimatur everywhere.
For many non-Indian readers, however, the only familiar name in the book will be MK Gandhi. He haunts Tripathi’s narrative like a tutelary spirit, given his formative influence on the modern middle class of Gujarat, and the moral vacuum created not so much by his erasure under the current government but by his conversion into an idol devoid of meaning. Older voices speak of the Mahatma with feeling and nostalgia. Younger people interviewed by Tripathi express resentment at Gandhi’s social and political choices, and wonder if India did not go down the wrong path under his leadership. Though this is clearly a legitimate question, and one that Tripathi does not dodge, the rejection of Gandhi’s tolerance and non-violent teachings, is vigorously condemned.
Tripathi is uniquely placed to tell these varied stories. From his family history comes an intimate connection with poets, philosophers and independence leaders. From his years as a business journalist, he can explain the rise of the Ambanis, the Adanis, and the Tatas in a way that would make a business school professor proud. His old school tie(s) give him a ringside seat at many of Gujarat and Mumbai’s greatest corporate dramas. And finally as a leading light at PEN, he has trenchant words to explain the caste violence, the denial of human rights, and the repression against Indian Muslims.
Western readers may wonder how much Gujuratis differ from their neighbors in India, Maratha, Punjabi, Bengali or Tamil. Tripathi might have made more of an effort to clarify this, but for his Indian readers the answer to that is probably too self-evident. I recall once working with an Indian colleague who was surprised that in Europe we don’t all speak the same language, which shows that geographic distances can indeed blur distinctions. Westerners could do worse than learn to think of India as a European Union with a somewhat stronger Brussels and, importantly, an army.
This deep dive into the Gujarati people, with their billionaires like Amani and Adani, their Parsi philanthropists, their global diaspora, their industrial and merchant prowess and the legacy of their greatest son, Gandhi, holds the reader’s interest on almost every page. Sadly but perhaps understandably, the scope of the book leads to a certain amount of repetition. We hear the same stories told again from a slightly different angle, as if we were listening to our Gujarati uncle over several nights. Otherwise Tripathi’s crisp tone and eye for characters makes this long book eminently engrossing. Nationalists will decry the author’s raising of Gujarat’s dirty laundry in public, but left-wingers will probably accuse him of being too indulgent to his fellow countrymen when they get themselves inflamed. This book is above all an appeal for Gujaratis to embrace their better selves, their tradition of tolerance, non-violence, compromise and enterprise.
You must be logged in to post a comment.