Culture wars

The fragile fabric of Indian culture again faces the threat of desecration, and again its self-righteous protectors have turned out in the usual disorderly fashion to protect it from an international conspiracy. In Delhi, a painting by M.F. Husain has had to be pulled from an exhibition. In a related fracas, a respected artist’s beard has been pulled up by the very roots. And in Khajuraho, Uma Bharati has refused landing rights to the Spice Girls, unless they come swaddled like mummies. Their presence in skimpier apparel, she fears, might vitiate the ethereal, other-worldly aura of the historic site and desecrate its world-famous erotic art — which features fewer articles of clothing than any Spice Girl. By that logic, of course, Uma Bharati should first ban all prospective visits by certain people in Mumbai, notably Urmila Matondkar and Mamta Kulkarni. She could also profitably turn her attention to the titles that Khajuraho’s cinema halls are running in the morning show.

In recent times, the culturewarriors have gone to ridiculous lengths to make the world safe for right thought. The Miss World show in Bangalore raised an infernal din over the commercialisation of women’s bodies, the poisoning of culture and sundry other matters. The people who raised it should have had the maturity to realise that Miss World is no longer a very hot item. Overseas, even go-kart racing is more popular. The fact that concerned Indians chose to react so stridently to Miss World betrays a complete — and completely misplaced — lack of confidence in the strength of Indian culture. The only redeeming feature of that incident was that no one seriously considered violence as an option. The most radical threat advanced was that of self-immolation. The case of M.F. Husain, however, was positively shameful. Not only did the activists desecrate a gallery with unimaginable ferocity, they also managed to increase the artist’s threat perception several notches. It might be argued that they were only taking a stand on their religion,just as some Christians did in response to Benetton advertisements. But the manner in which they chose to put their point across, by offering serious bodily harm, was obnoxious.

People should try and see such situations in perspective. Whether a Miss World show gets to be a major cultural influence is an issue that is decided entirely by the hand that holds the television remote. The politician’s view is irrelevant to personal choice. The work that started the first bout of Husain-bashing would have been seen by a handful of people — largely other artists — had the Sangh Parivar not picked it up. The one under threat now would have been seen by even fewer people because it was to be shown in Delhi, which is not exactly an arts-loving city. None of these issues would have stirred the popular imagination without a little prodding from the political class. The same applies to the Spice Girls controversy. It has come in handy for Uma Bharati, spicing up her predictable temple spiel in the last leg of thecampaign. It certainly will not discomfit the Spice Girls, who will simply shift their venue, possibly out of India.