Allison’s study tells us about the importance of vernacular literature and regional archival sources for historiography, an alternative methodology to be adopted for the critical analysis and better understanding of rīti literature instead of relying on Western models and methodology derived from Romanticism and Victorian aesthetics. Furthermore, this book points out what and how our approach to history should be.
Purushottam Agrawal (retired professor of Hindi, Jawahar Lal Nehru University, New Delhi), one of panellists of this event, remarks that everyone talks about the vernacular, but what is our attitude toward it even today? The situation remains the same as it was before. One cannot understand the past and present of Hindustan until one listens to and respects those who do not speak or write in Sanskrit or English. Highlighting the dismissive attitude toward Ramchandra Shukla and other scholars, Prof. Agrawal sarcastically remarks that nowadays, you cannot earn the label of progressive without calling such scholars as Brahmanical. It is important that instead of outright rejecting the work of our ancestors, we evaluate their works with respect and critical attitude. Kavita Ke Naye Pratiman, written by Namvar Singh, was not only written to establish Nayi Kavita but is also a book about the literary and cultural debates happening in the twentieth century. Yet, we do not acknowledge such books.
Tanuja
Kothiyal (Professor of History, Ambedkar University, New Delhi), another panellist present at the event, recounts the time of the 1980s-90s, when the
idea of region and regionalism started emerging in the history-writing, and
such historiographical trends emerged and became prominent in CHS (Centre for
Historical Studies), JNU, then as well. However, even until that time, regions
were regarded as subcategories of the empire. And many scholars were
encountering themselves with such questions as what builds regions actually—is
it area or is it language? Regional sources were not even considered as a
source to write Empire Histories. And there were assumptions that the empire
reaches regions, but regions don’t reach the empire, and in this approach lies
a methodological problem.
(Tanuja Kothiyal speaking at the book launch event.)
Prof.
Kothiyal further argues that regional archival sources change our perspective
with regard to the historiography. Recently, we have seen among the scholars a
shift in taking a central point of history writing, moving from "empire
centric" to "regional centric." Such changes in the historical
trends bring to light the fact that things need to be seen with respect to the
relationship between region and empire, apart from judging them only through
religious binaries. Empires appear distinct when viewed through the lens of
regional archives. Such approaches offer new tools and methods along with
adding new perspectives to look at systems.
The new historiographical trends in history writing focus on regional archives. These regional archival sources give us the idea of how regions affected the Mughal empire. The exchange of ideas between regions and empires is not a one-way process. The imperial court poetry affected the regions, but sometimes regional poets also affected the Mughal court. By regionalizing history, we will see the results of the transfer of ideas and languages in a more transparent way. Although, it is well established in academia that by focusing on regions, we will be able to see a more nuanced picture of the Mughal Empire. So, when Mughals started to have matrimonial relations with the Rajputs, it was not only Mughals affecting various Rajput features, but the Rajput code of honour also affected the Mughals. So, for example, in "The Baburnama: Memoirs of Babur, Prince and Emperor” (a translation of Baburnama done by W.M. Thackston), we see Babur describing in great detail the ladies associated with him by name and mentioning their conduct. He is talking about the parties and imperial feasts in which Mughal women were involved. Therefore, the Mughal ladies were playing a crucial role in the Mughal empire.
But when Akbar consolidated the Mughal empire, we see in Akbar Nama (“The Akbarnama of Abu-l-Fazl,” a translation by H. Beveridge) that Mughal ladies were mentioned through their titles. It is also because of the institutionalization of the empire. So, in various domains, the Rajputs’ codes of conduct and honour were affecting the Mughals. These features were the results of alliances established between Mughals and Rajputs.
By
reaching out to regional poetries in Braj Bhasha, we should be able to see the
nuanced and much more informed picture about the Mughal Empire. Regional poetry
will be giving a perspective about the contemporary thinking processes.
Sanskrit and Persian sources are important, but these sources will give an
elite picture of the empire. In history, considering the multiple sources is
very useful for historians. By comparing the regional sources with Persian
court poetry and prose, we will be able to gain more insights about the
medieval period in India. Rīti Kāl poetry became a source of
understanding of India’s medieval past. The colonial historiography is obsessed
with the elite sources, and the historiography shaped by their ideas has
neglected the archival sources in the regions. Now it is fully established in
academia that regional poetries and prose will provide a more balanced and
nuanced picture of understanding the centre and regional binaries. Without
understanding regions and centres as equally important and both affecting each
other, sometimes overlapping, our understanding will be superficial. The
evolution of history writing is an ongoing process that incorporates emerging
historiographical tools and methods, providing us with various perspectives for
analysing texts. Our attitude should not be dismissive of archival sources in
vernacular languages as sources in these languages speak more about the common
people and their behaviour. In medieval India, various vernacular languages
gained ground and particularly during the eighteenth century, vernacular
languages produced a significant amount of literature.
By reaching out to vernacular sources not only of the past but also of the present, we will have a more nuanced picture of Indian history, politics, and culture. These sources need to be studied in totality as it will provide us a comprehensive outlook of our present and future. History students should not ignore the insights coming from local languages. The works being done in Urdu, Hindi, and other Indian languages will give us a comprehensive and clear understanding of society, polity, and culture. Academic works should take into account all these sources in local and vernacular languages. By considering these sources, we will enrich our understanding of India’s past as well as present.
(Dalpat Rajpurohit speaking at the
event.)
Sudhish
Pachauri (retired professor of Hindi, University of Delhi), another panelist,
critiques the methodology used so far to assess the literature of this period
and argues that the methodology for assessing the Rīti Kāl of the 16th
to 18th centuries was developed in the West, and its aesthetic sense was shaped
by Western models—Romanticism and Victorian aesthetics. In this context, Dalpat
Rajpurohit (Assistant Professor at University of Texas, Austin USA), present at
the event, raises an important question before us: If we read rīti literature
using those Western parameters, then what are the reasons that such parameters
could not be developed on our soil? And this question is equally relevant for
the academic world and intelligentsia here in India. The devaluation of the Rīti
Kāl was a result of the Western understanding of this literature and
developing a proper understanding is only possible when this literature is read
through the standards set by the poets and their poetry of that period itself.
The
insights given by Busch in her study bring the disciplines of history and
literature closer in the sense that both can learn a lot from each other. This
perspective reminds us of an argument made by Kesavan Veluthat in his recent
book titled “Clio Revisits Calliope: A Historian’s Excursion to the Kavya
Literature” (2025), where he argues that Clio, the muse of history, and
Calliope, the muse of epic poetry, are not antagonistic to one another. They
complement each other. A sense of history is essential in
appreciating poetry; so also, a literary sensibility is a desideratum in
understanding the past.
(From left to right: Aditi Maheshwari, Abhay Kumar Dubey, Tanuja Kothiyal, Dalpat Rajpurohit, Purushottam Agrawal, Sudhish Pachauri, Arun Maheshwari)
In her study, Busch challenges the
common assumption of considering Persian as the sole language of high literary
and political expression in Mughal India. She argues that other vernacular
literary cultures coexisted and interacted with high-culture literary
traditions rather than being subordinate to them. Brajbhasha, being a part of
vernacular literary culture, was also a prominent language, particularly in the
courts of Rajput kings, and it played a crucial role in articulating royal
authority, and the poetry compiled in Brajbhasha was a form of political
expression and not merely devotional or romantic. Prof. Kothiyal substantiated
this argument through her insights, as she states that the period of the
15th–18th centuries is the period when art and literature were getting
patronage from Mughal courts. At this time Brajbhasha was at its zenith, though
it was not a court language. The literature written in Braj Bhasha does not
limit itself only to beauty. The literature written in it is neither the literature
of praise nor of opposition; Brajbhasha used to adapt itself to every kind of
register. We could have made Braj anywhere. Prof. Sudhish Pachauri also cites
an example of Keshavdas's Jahangir Jas Chandrika which is not merely a
eulogy of Jahangir's glory; an important aspect of the work is that it also
highlights a profound debate between purushartha and submission to fate,
in which Jahangir symbolizes purushartha and the governed populace
represents submission to fate.
Prof.
Agrawal remembers and praises Allison Busch approach of engaging in a dialogue
with both Indian and non-Indian intellectual traditions— as she does not
dismiss either of them. He recalls, "She once delivered a lecture at the
IIC, which was published in the IIC Journal. One quote from that lecture, which
I have not been able to forget to this day, is when she said, "Hindus were
also writing histories, but they were doing it in Hindi." In this context,
Chhatraprakash, composed by the poet Laal, is a living example—not
merely a literary work but also a historical text. Citing Allison Busch, Prof.
Agrawal raises a question: What historical circumstances cause some cultures to
preserve their literary traditions while others forget them? He further quotes Gayatri
Spivak that— 'Postcolonial intellectuals only respond.' And to some extent,
this quote is absolutely correct. However, in this context, we must never
forget that India, Africa, and other colonies have suffered colonization that
Britain, France, and other European countries did not experience. Colonization
itself has changed the fate of history.
We
can understand the shared interactions between languages by examining Sheldon
Pollock's argument in his essay, "The Cosmopolitan Vernacular" (1998),
where he states that literary cultures have historically shifted from using
cosmopolitan languages—such as Sanskrit in India, Latin in Europe, or Classical
Arabic in the Islamic world—to vernacular languages, the everyday tongues of
regional populations (the argument is paraphrased). And in the same
essay, Pollock talks about a paradox that vernacular literary cultures often
arose not in opposition to cosmopolitanism, but through and with its support.
Rajpurohit makes us cautious that we should not forget that the western
literary culture was developed after having interactions and dialogues with
other literary cultures including Japanese, Russian, Italian, French and so on
like Keshavadasa interacted with Sanskrit.
We
often see different languages antagonistic to each other, create strict
compartmentalization between them, and overlook the shared relationship between
two or more languages recorded in their historical evolution. What we don’t
often see and overlook are the political motivations behind these developments,
and we unwittingly become targets of such agendas by involving ourselves in the
manufactured conspiracies designed to create divisiveness among various groups
living in a society. This is what the involved politics in these processes
want.
This
could also be understood through highlights made by Busch, as she shows in her
study how Brajbhasha poets drew from the Sanskrit alankara-shastra (rhetorical
theory) and rasa theory, as a result of which they created a poetic
discourse that extended the classical tradition into the vernacular domain.
With time, Rīti literature was transformed and ultimately marginalized
by colonials and early nationalists. There was an obsession in the minds of
nationalists with the idea of creating a new national identity, which at the
same time marginalized the local languages. Even with this new print language,
certain parts of literature were given more attention, and some portions were
neglected completely. During these times even Hindi literary historiography
relegated Brajbhasha rīti to “medieval decadence,” while valorizing bhakti
literature as Hindi’s redeemable tradition.
Prof.
Agrawal makes an important argument that the problem with colonial
intellectuals was that the concepts they were constructing about Indian society
and history did not align with the knowledge present here. Before the British
period, any sense of all-India identity was not acknowledged by the
colonialists, even though the literature in Sanskrit and other regional languages,
as well as folk memories, may not have envisioned political unity but certainly
contained memories of dialogue and conflict between various regions. All of
this resulted from the colonialists' insensitive attitude and their inability
to understand the sensibilities of Indian society. At the same time, it must be
kept in mind that the concept of the nation-state developed in Europe—which was
based on one religion, one language, and one race—cannot be applied to the
Indian context. Based on experience, the leadership here expanded this concept
in a unique way. From intellectuals to politicians, they imagined an Indian
nation founded on the coexistence and dialogue of multiple languages,
religions, and cultures (Imagining the Nation). Prof. Agrawal ended his talk
with these words— Itihas se mukti asambhav hai. We must have a sense of
history. Rajpurohit reminds Pollock’s argument that he once stated that
decolonization cannot truly happen until we understand what Indian literary and
intellectual traditions were like before the colonial period. Busch critiques
such presentist biases and stresses engaging with pre-colonial archives,
reassessing India’s early modern literary heritage through the lens of
postcolonial and intellectual history for understanding social, political, and
literary dynamics of Mughal-era India.
Through
her book, Allison Busch outlines what vocabulary, standards, and concepts are
necessary to read and understand the Rīti Kāl. Allison Busch's work is a
great service to us, and especially to the Hindi literary world, argued by
Prof. Pachauri. Her central argument was that the Rīti Kāl should be
understood through its own elements, rather than through models derived from
Romanticism and Victorian aesthetics—a point we took far too long to grasp. At
the same time, this book also points toward how our perspective on history
should be shaped.
Rahul
Khandelwal and Maaz Rashid are PhD Research Scholars in the Department of
History and Culture at Jamia Millia Islamia.
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