<<
>>

Conclusion

The six epic chapters - MBh 12.98-103 - provide us with the clearest account of what is entailed by the concept of heroism and who exactly is a hero in India's Classical Age (at least according to the author(s) of the chapters).

The concept of heroism is defined by the superlative martial actions of the sura, the heroic warrior par excellence, and his unwavering displays of bravery in the face of daunting or impossible odds. Indeed, this martial ideal is stated in absolute, if not paternalistic terms:

Like children, all in the world depend upon the arms of heroic warriors, always. So heroic warriors deserve honour under all conditions. In all the three worlds there is found nothing that is superior to the hero's fighting [saurya; JW: ‘heroism; heroic power']. The heroic warrior protects every­thing; everything depends upon the heroic warrior. (MBh 12.100.17-18)

In the context of the six epic chapters, heroism is a deeply gendered concept available exclusively to men willing to risk their lives in battle, and is considered to be culturally normative as part of the widespread myth of Ksatriya excellence. Since this gendered ideology appears to be culturally and politically dominant, at least in our Sanskrit sources, then perhaps it repre­sents a form of hegemonic masculinity which required all martially inclined men to position themselves in relation to it. As R. W. Connell states, ‘Hegemonic masculinity is always constructed in relation to various subor­dinated masculinities as well as in relation to women'.[1285] In the epic chapters the heroic ideal is consistently juxtaposed with the failed masculinity of cowards and the supportive, yet subordinate role of females, whether family members or heavenly nymphs. Consequently, if a man was recognised to be a sura - that is, to have successfully enacted some of the values of this hyper­masculine ideal - then his performance would yield social power and dom­inance in the forms of wealth and fame, as well as legal and religious legitimation.

According to Simon Brodbeck, the concepts of personal fame and renown (yasas, kirti) play a significant role for the warrior class through­out the epic and reflect a masculine economy of prestige in which ‘popularity, fame and fortune' are presented ‘as natural goals' for warriors, whose honour and reputation are paramount and must be earned and protected through repeated acts of aggression.[1286] As Krsna explains to Pandava Arjuna in a famous section of the epic known as the Bhagavad Gita (2.34), ‘for one who has been honoured, dishonour is worse than death'. As has been shown, the six epic chapters underscore the threat of public shame and punishment because if a warrior flees the battlefield then he will suffer ‘the loss of property, execution, ignominy, and a bad reputation' (MBh 12.101.31). In these terms, while there is no shame in being wounded in war, it would be a moral and soteriological failure to not be injured or killed in battle. Consequently, a warrior's body is his most valuable asset for achieving fame, fortune and a blissful afterlife in a violent marketplace: it is his primary means to the dividends of patriarchy, but it comes with the highest price.

Since acts of bravery grant a warrior rewards such as fame and wealth in this world and heavenly ascension in the afterlife, we can think of heroism in ancient India as a transcendent ideal. That is to say, heroism can only be achieved within the framework of the military, in the chaos of battle. Conversely, heroism cannot be achieved through world-renouncing asceti­cism or in the domestic realm of the ancient Indian ‘householder', whose lifelong duties involve being married, typically to one woman, having male children and patronising ritual sacrifices.[1287] Since the domestic realm is also considered to be the domain of women, then the ideals of heroism reflect a form of masculinity that offers certain life choices unavailable to females.[1288] Heroic masculinity also transcends social norms because it affords certain privileges for the slain warrior's family who are excused from making food offerings or libations, from taking a purifying bath, and from observing any period of impurity (MBh 12.99.44).

While it may have been a small consolation, the fact that a warrior's family gains the benefit of not having to observe a state of mourning or impurity may have contributed to family members' sense of pride and conviction in sending a beloved son or husband to war.[1289] Indeed, in the eleventh book of the Mahabharata, entitled the Stri Parvan (Book of the Women), grieving mothers of slain warriors express their sorrow for their sons' deaths in battle. Some of the mothers even express pride in encouraging a violent death because it ultimately protected the family and its lineage, as well as granting their sons access to heaven with all its rewards. Conversely, some wives express jealousy and disdain at their slain husbands since they have left them behind and get to enjoy the company of nymphs in heaven (see e.g. MBh 11.20.22-5). Consequently, female char­acters, particularly the wives and mothers of epic heroes, are portrayed as key proponents who enforce a man's duty to fight in battle while preparing him for an honourable death.[1290] This ideal is underscored at MBh 5.131-4, which narrates a conversation between the noblewoman Vidura and her son Samjaya (‘Victory'), wherein she scolds him for being dejected on account of his defeat in a prior battle. After chastising him by questioning his parentage (‘neither I nor your father begot you!'), manhood (‘you are a man with the tools of a eunuch!') and courage (‘get up, coward, don't lie there defeated'), she demands that Samjaya live up to his name by fighting and dying in battle. To quote part of her scathing reprimand: ‘May no woman ever bear a son like you, without anger, without enterprise, without man­hood, the joy of your enemies! Don't smolder - blaze up. Attack with vengeance and slay the enemies' (MBh 5.131.28-9). The didactic function of this story is stated in no uncertain terms: if a pregnant woman hears it then she will give birth to a brave and virile son (vlra) who will become a heroic warrior (sura) able to conquer his enemies (MBh 5.134.17-21).
The heroic ideal, with its promise of worldly fame and heavenly ascension, thus caters directly to the martial class and soldiers from lower classes because it offers a transcendent path - a saurya marga - that surpasses normative morality, duty and social hierarchies while at the same time it subverts states of ritual

Heroism, Military Violence, and the State in Ancient India purity and ascetic liberation. In these terms, the six epic chapters completely undermine, if not outright reject, the validity of competing modes of social and religious life for warriors, whether low- or high-born.

Unfortunately, because our sources are deeply influenced by the ideologi­cal and theological concerns of the priestly Brahmamcal tradition, it is impossible to know if the ideals of heroism presented in the six epic chapters document the practices and beliefs of actual martial groups or reflect the rarefied machinations of individuals, whose primary goal is to instruct the king. It may be the case that the chapters represent a reality somewhere between the two scenarios and document the attempt of politically minded Brahmans and royal councillors to insert themselves into the existing prac­tices of different martial groups. If the ideals of heroism in some degree were current among martial groups or tribes, then presumably they contributed to group cohesion and the enforcement of a circumscribed masculine identity that demanded bravery and toughness in potentially deadly situations. Nevertheless, while heroism functions as a dominant expression of hegemo­nic masculinity, it is likely that only a minority of men would have been able to embody or enact its ideals while alive, though presumably some men were afforded the title ‘hero' after being killed in the front lines of battle. On the other hand, many more men were probably able to capitalise on the indirect benefits of hegemonic masculinity in the form of social prestige and wealth, as well as demonstrating their commitment to dharma and the gods by serving in the army or by being members of a warrior band.

Finally, Bhisma’s core political message to Yudhisthira is easy to infer; namely, that as a major stakeholder the king should take a direct role in propagating the hyper-masculine ideals of heroism because they are so closely intertwined with the goals of the army and the state: according to the chapters, they reinforce each other. Heroism thus functions as a key ideological tool of the state and the chapters skilfully interweave individual, ethical, ritual and cosmological ideals in a tour de force of militarised propaganda. In other words, the chapters are clear that to edify and manip­ulate real bodies, the body politic must take a direct role in shaping the identities of warriors. In terms of the underlying goal of the six epic chapters, heroism is a fundamental ideal the king must propagate in order to define the identity of his troops, to secure victory and to absolve himself from any soteriological failings.[1291] Consequently, the state should be directly invested in

the process of constructing and disseminating the ideals of heroism for its own political and military needs. With this said, while heroism plays a direct role in securing the king's transcendent sovereignty - that is, his state of political dominance and metaphysical absolution - the king suffers a somewhat different fate than his loyal soldiers.[1292]

<< | >>
Source: Fagan Garrett G., Fibiger Linda, Hudson Mark, Trundle Matthew (eds.). The Cambridge World History of Violence. Volume 1: The Prehistoric and Ancient Worlds. Cambridge University Press,2020. — 756 p.. 2020

More on the topic Conclusion:

  1. Conclusion
  2. Conclusion
  3. Conclusion
  4. CONCLUSION
  5. Conclusion
  6. Conclusion
  7. Conclusion
  8. Conclusion
  9. Conclusion: where to next?
  10. Conclusion
  11. 5.5 CONCLUSION
  12. CONCLUSION
  13. Conclusion
  14. CONCLUSION AND REFLECTIONS
  15. Conclusion The Pyramid of Peace: Past, Present and Future
  16. Conclusion
  17. Conclusion