Weighing up rationalism

Dabholkar's death vitiates the movement against superstition, and took away the chance for greater nuance in a debate that is too often hijacked by extreme voices

The Case for Reason

Understanding the Anti-Superstition Movement 
Narendra Dabholkar (Translated by Suman Oak) 

Westland

298 pages; Rs 699

Narendra Dabholkar was a Maharashtra-based doctor and anti-superstition activist who achieved national fame when he was gunned down by unidentified assailants in 2013. His killing, along with those of Govind Pansare and MM Kalburgi, alerted authorities to the grave threat faced by rationalists, an umbrella term for those working to promote a spirit of scientific inquiry. 

The book under review was written by Dabholkar in Marathi and is available in an English translation for the first time. In it, Dabholkar charts the growth of the Andhashraddha Nirmoolan Samiti (ANiS), the organisation he founded in 1989 to spread his message throughout Maharashtra (he was a native of Pune). 

Dabholkar’s aim in writing the book was twofold: One, to enumerate the various ways in which superstition affects the life of the common man. In this regard, the book is chock-full of examples of superstitious behaviour that ANiS activists uncovered as well as the actions they took to get people to see their viewpoint. 

A lot of the examples Dabholkar quotes are instantly recognisable. Bhanamati (black magic) and buvabaji (playing God) are common occurrences in our land. ANiS activists challenged such practitioners to open debate, or if that were not possible, to perform their miracles before them. Little wonder these charlatans were exposed. 

Two, Dabholkar goes beyond specific instances of superstition to speak about rationalism as a way of life. An atheist, he writes passionately about the need for a social revolution, one that should attack the very idea of God if India is to be rid of the many troubles that afflict it. He sees a direct line between belief in God and the string of superstitions that holds back Indians. 

While Dabholkar’s advocacy in the first instance is laudable, his broader argument fails to convince. He presents gullibility — a despicable trait in his view — as a direct consequence of Indians’ fatalism, which in turn, stems from their religious views. His acknowledgement that people are superstitious about major life events like career, marriage and offspring falls neither here nor there. 

Broadly, Dabholkar’s argument can be attacked on two planks. One, his unquestioned belief that science has the answer to every question. Rationalism, like theism, is a belief system and to assume that the faculty of reason can, say, quench our thirst for the sublime is to take a dim and incomplete view of human needs and potential. 

Two — and this is more pertinent — Dabholkar’s tendency to paint all rituals as emerging from a reactionary ignorance. He cites the case of Shani Shingnapur, the Ahmednagar shrine that restricted entry of women to the sanctum sanctorum until a Bombay High Court order overturned the practice in 2016. 

While the restriction in that case was based on nebulous notions of “energy” at the site of the temple, the current case of Sabarimala brings a measure of balance to the debate. While the Supreme Court has directed the shrine to permit the entry of women, some have questioned if this is really a case of gender discrimination given that Ayyappan, the God the shrine is dedicated to, is a celibate deity. 

It would have been interesting to hear Dabholkar’s views on the matter. Would he decry women devotees for seeking to pray in the first place, an act that is as problematic as superstition in his book, or would be look upon this as a gender fight worth lending his voice to? 

Neither position is free of contradiction for a rationalist. If he were to stand up for the right of a woman to pray before a celibate God, he would be effectively arguing that God, or a God, is an entity whose nature can be in conflict with the demands of His devotees, and that it is up to modernists and rationalists to choose one over the other. But that would go against the rationalist’s creed of a non-existent God. 

It is thus possible to both appreciate Dabholkar’s work and acknowledge its limitations. Few will deny that unchecked superstition has been a bane of Indian society and an enlightened effort to move people away from orthodoxy is desirable. But it is equally important to not drown an entire edifice, one that fulfils deep human needs, in our race for egalitarianism. 

Dabholkar’s death, and of other rationalists, was an unmitigated tragedy. Not only did it vitiate the movement against superstition, it also took away the chance for greater nuance in a debate that is too often hijacked by extreme voices. While his murderers effected a sickening termination to the argument, The Case for Reason reiterates that, intellectually, neither Dabholkar nor they were entirely right.