Sunday 15 July 2012

Entry 20 -- History and Myth

ENTRY 20– History and Myth

The gardens and mausoleum, Srirangapatna



entrance to the eighteenth-century fortress, Srirangapatna



The well-known writer of the history, meaning and function of religion, Karen Armstrong, gives a very specific understanding of the term myth, as well as explaining its importance.  She writes that as soon as people became aware of their own mortality, they created stories that gave meaning to their existence and explained their relationship to the divine presence; more than this, myths gave instruction about how to live in response to that understanding.  Myth helps people to understand their place in the world and find their true orientation.  In other words, myth has both ontological and ethical power, shaping meaning and action based on that meaning.  Human beings, says Armstrong, have always been myth makers. 
I don’t think we have stopped this recasting of our understanding of the past in mythic terms.  I define myth, following Armstrong, as a story rooted in history that allows an understanding of present reality, offering a sense of meaning or identity; a narrative of the past that shapes a perception of reality, and so an understanding of national or cultural identity.  This allows for both religious myth and historical myth, a way of seeing one’s relation to the divine, and also a way of understanding one’s national or cultural past; and sometimes, of course, these come together.

I was not surprised, then, in my preparations to come to India, to encounter some of the myth-making around the figure of Tipu Sultan, by both English historians of the Victorian era who condemned him, and Indian historians of the twentieth century who would canonize him.  Tipu Sultan is a figure who has long captured my interest, and so it was with pleasure that I realized the historical sites of his life and death lie just outside the city of Mysore, in Srirangapatna, a journey of only twenty or thirty minutes by car.  Sriragnapatna was not on the itinerary for field excursions for the Mount Allison students, which have taken us to Hindu and Jain temples of Chalukya and Hoysala eras, going back eight hundred and a thousand years into the Indian past.  And soon we will visit the massive archaeological site of Vijayanagar in the northern half of Karnataka state, a city built in the fourteenth century but declining, suddenly, in the sixteenth century.  A separate journey to Srirangapatna was in order.
John, in pursuit of history -- or myth
A couple of weekends ago, having made arrangements to hire a car and driver, and to be accompanied by the Head Academic at VIIS, Dr La.Na. Swamy, I headed out to a town I had read much about, and now was going to see, the home of Haider Ali and Tipu Sultan, and a battle that may or may not have changed the course of Indian history (as a side note, I have followed one of the conventional spellings for both Haider Ali and Tipu Sultan, although there are variations, each one accepted as also correct).

In the eighteenth century, a new and short-lived power dynasty emerged in southern Indian, based not in Mysore but in Srirangapatna, just a short distance away from the capital where the ruling kings lived.  Haider Ali, the commander-in-chief to the Maharaja or King of Mysore, Krishanraja Wodeyar II, rose to a position of power and came to dominate the weak king.  Ultimately Haider Ali seized control of the kingdom and, as military commander and, in effect, supreme ruler over Mysore, came to expand the territories of this southern Indian kingdom moving the capital from Mysore to Srirangapatna.  His expansionist activities drew him into conflict with military advances of the British East India Company, ending in conflict in the First and Second Mysore Wars (1767-69 and 1779-1784 respectively).  A shrewd and powerful leader, when Sultan Haider Ali died in 1782, he left his son Tipu Sultan not just a war that was incomplete, but a vastly expanded realm and a reputation of authority and control by force.  The short-lived dynasty begun by Haider Ali and ending with his son Tipu Sultan also marked the return of Muslim rule over a predominantly Hindu population.

Tipu Sultan, also known as the Tiger of Mysore for his expansionist tendencies, his merciless treatment of his enemies, and his absolute control over the sultanate of Mysore, was also a devout Muslim, a scholar, a poet and a linguist; these latter qualities, however, were secondary in history to his desire to expand his kingdom and his willingness to engage in conflict, which led to two further wars with the British.  Following a humiliating defeat to British forces in the Third Mysore War (1789-1792), the British took two young sons of Tipu Sultan as hostages to ensure the payment agreed to under the terms of peace was actually made.  It was, and the sons, a little older, were returned to their father.

Allying himself with Napoleon in the wars against the British, Tipu Sultan was forced into a Fourth Mysore War (1798-99) when the British determined to defeat France and all her allies.  Led by their commander, Arthur Wellesley (later Duke of Wellington, the victorious general at the Battle of Waterloo), the British led a final attack on Srirangapatna in May 1799.  At this time of the year, just preceding monsoon season, the river was at its lowest level and the fortress surrounding Srirangapatna, built on an island in the Cauvery River, was at its most vulnerable.  In a short and decisive assault costing only thirty British lives, the invading force captured Srirangapatna; during the initial fighting, Tipu Sultan was killed in leading his forces into battle, although it was not until later in the day that the British identified his body.  This ended the dynasty Haider Ali had sought to establish, and the British reinstated the Wodeyar monarch on throne of Mysore (albeit under the close supervision of a British policy advisor), thus establishing British influence and control in southern India.

The very brief account above does not, of course, mention the myth of Tipu Sultan; it is simply a narrative of a few key elements of what has become, for some Indians, something of a legend and more, a myth.  The Tiger of Mysore has been remembered by some Indian historians, since Independence in 1947, as something of a national hero.  He is being hailed as the one who stood up against the might of the British Empire and, in an unsuccessful last stand before the onslaught of British power, the one who tried to protect and preserve Indian independence.  Part of the myth of Tipu Sultan is that of the great unifier of southern India; however, the seizing of land and ousting of rulers through militaristic expansion can be interpreted in ways other than nationalistic attempts to unify a people, particularly when considering the time period under discussion.
carved stone on the Haider Ali and Tippu Sultan mausoleum


The evidence of this dynasty at Srirangapatna still stands.  I visited this town and saw the usual tourist sites, as well as some a little further off the usual tourist trail.  I joined the throngs of Sunday visitors to the Gumbaz, or domed mausoleum, honouring the bodies of Haider Ali and his wife, as well as Tipu Sultan.  Entering through an arched gateway, a tree-lined path leads to the mausoleum itself, seemingly in small imitation of that great mausoleum, the Taj Mahal.  For a modest fee of twenty rupees, a shoe keeper will keep watch over shoes as visitors ascend a few steps to the raised platform area that surrounds the Gumbaz; this also leads over to the mosque located just beside it.  Because this is Moslem holy ground, the site of both the mausoleum and mosque, shoes cannot be worn.  Although the shoe keeper’s fee is not large, by walking along the path that leads around the outer edge of this combined structure with its stone pavement on the raised platform, one can leave shoes for free under a bush beside the back steps and ascend there.  Which we did.

A huge dome rises above the bier where father, mother and son are entombed; ornate carvings in the stone of the structure portray leaves and vines and flowers.  These images of nature are allowed on an Islamic structure, as are quotations from the Qur’an; images or depictions of people, who might inappropriately be deified or idolized, are forbidden.  Miniature towers or turrets are at each corner of this perfectly cubed structure, its width and depth equal to its height.  The large dome is topped with the traditional symbol of Islam, the crescent moon.
the Gumbaz, domed mausoleum, at Srirangaptna
Inside, we walked around the walls and look at the place of entombment in the centre, a perfect raised square.  Photographs are strictly forbidden, but my colleague from VIIS pleads special exemption from such restrictions as a recognized historian with the Karnataka Historical Authority, and I am allowed to take a couple of pictures.  I first look up to the interior of the magnificent dome, the architectural feature adopted from the Eastern or Byzantine church of the fourth through seventh centuries, but more usually associated with Islamic architecture as Islam spread rapidly through the Middle Eastern world in the seventh and eighth centuries.  Painted in rich colours in the Muslim style, the inside of the dome is even more impressive than the exterior, which inspires wonder by its size and seeming weight; the painting is filled with motifs suggestive of flowers and leaves, in the fashion of the carved stone on the outside. Beneath the dome, some visitors bow in silent reverence out of deference to one who was Muslim, or perhaps to a defeated national leader.  There are clearly, judging by their attire, both Muslim and Hindu visitors to the site. A rich cloth laid over the burial spot has been covered with garlands of flowers, marigolds and jasmine and roses, and in the warmth of the open domed structure, the scent of flowers is strong.

After the visiting the Dome and the grounds surrounding it – including the mosque, the eighteenth-century stables and military barracks, we reclaimed our shoes and returned to the parking area, filled not only with cars, buses and motorcycles, but stands selling all manner of souvenirs and foods.  Off to the side of the parking area, we paid a brief visit to the memorial monument built to honour Colonel William Baillie, who surrendered with his troops to the forces of Hyder Ali in 1780 at the height of the Second Mysore War; Colonel Baillie was imprisoned inside the fortress at Srirangapatna, and died there two years later.  It was partially due to this imprisonment and death that the British made the decision to undertake another conflict with Tipu Sultan a few years later.

memorial plaque to Col. Baillie, erected in 1816
entrance gate to the summer palace
The memorial was erected by his nephew in 1816, and the relative lack of care and interest in this site suggests the living myth of Indian nationalism under Tipu Sultan; his memorials (both the Dome and the plaque marking the spot where it is said he died) are carefully maintained, with neat pathways and carefully edged grass.  Access to the monument for Col. Baillie is gained by walking through mounds of garbage and a short path overgrown with weeds.

Then it is on to the summer palace, the home and seat of power for Tipu Sultan.  Entrance to the Palace Grounds is through a large arched gateway and admissions office – Indians, 20 Rupees and Foreigners, 100 Rupees – and then into the neat paths bounded by carefully trimmed trees.  The Palace itself was designed for the warm Indian climate, to maximize air flow, to provide porches that give shelter from sun and rain but are still open to the cooling breezes that might come from the nearby Cavery River, and to create an impression of power, wealth and beauty.  The walls are painted with scenes of successful military campaigns filled with soldiers, elephants, banners and glory.  Deeper into the interior the walls are painted with floral patterns in what must have once been bright and decorous colours. The vicissitudes of time and age, of dampness and light and lack of proper care, have worn and faded the once majestic walls.  
Summer Palace of Tipu Sultan
Even now only minimal protection is provided, as bamboo screens are rolled down to prevent further fading from direct sun.  But birds flit inside the open air rooms that have no exterior walls, and stains and signs of damp rot are visible  in the plaster beneath the paint.  While the information and explanatory notes provided, highlighting artifacts and art, suggest a glorious and noble past, as though this alone was the heart of a once proud India (not just Mysore kingdom), the historic palace suggested to me a fading of the past, a desire to maintain a myth without supporting evidence.

 From the former opulence of the palace, we went to the site, marked with a monument, path and neatly trimmed lawn, where it is said that Tipu Sultan was died in battle.  There are, however, two sites for one death: one official and one unofficial.  At the official site, the stone monument simply declares “The Body of Tipu Sultan Was Found Here.”

The official site is open and accessible, suggests a brave fight by the Mysorean troops who battled the British a considerable length of the fort.  The fort itself consisted of ramparts and battlements that stretch around the city of Srirangapatna, with a second palace inside, a temple, and three outer concentric rings of defensive walls with a river running past on all sides.  The official sites highlights the bravery and courage of Tipu Sultan, plunging into the battle at last with the regular troops only to be cut down by a British sharpshooter; in the popular myth, printed in tourist literature and small pamphlets about the historical significance of Srirangapatna, the death of Tipu rallied the troops to fight even more bravely before finally succumbing to the British because they had lost the inspiration and directin of their leader, the Tiger of Myspre.  The fighting here was inside the fort, and in the melee of women and children fleeing, the inability to use their cannons, and without a commander in chief, the British finally prevailed.
monument to the official site of the death of Tipu Sultan
passageway to where Tipu Sultan likely died
The unofficial, and somewhat less accessible site, suggests a different story of a force caught off guard by a British assault from the least likely direction.  The brick and stone walls still bear the marks of assault by cannon; although the river has been altered by damming since Tipu’s time, one can still see the open stretch of marshy land through which the river winds, and can speculate that at the end of a long dry winter perhaps even the marshes had dried to allow not only ready movement of troops but also horses, weapons and equipment.  

The British attacked at dawn in the far north-west corner, at the furthest distance from the centre of power.  We travelled out to that far corner, and saw the remains of ramparts and walls, both inner and outer, and the lookout spot where the first British troops likely entered into the fort. 

Near there, probably in the noise and confusion of battle – with cannonballs being fired from across the river, Tipu Sultan had to act to move his troops into position.  From British records it seems they encountered little to no resistance as they moved into the space between the first two outer walls.  Possibly, Tipu Sultan, coming out to this outer edge to determine what was going on, was surprised to see British forces already filling the narrow passageway, and at that time he was both shot and bayoneted as the troops rushed past him.  It was only later in the day, when the battle was done and the bodies were being retrieved, that it was realized that the Sultan himself had been killed so early in the day, in the heat of battle, in an unlikely place.

Still driving within the confines of the fortress wall or their remains, we had the driver stop the car along a length of outer wall a little further away – almost a kilometre – from the centre of town, the heart of the fort (no longer present) the main entrance gates, the official site of Tipu’s death, and all the stands selling tourist items and temple offerings.  Heading down a short slope, we walked along the stone wall until we came to a passageway leading through the wall to the “inner-outer ditch” – two walls created the ditch, and further outside there was yet another such ditch and another wall. 
remains of the second defensive wall

The walls soar up forty feet high in some places where they have not crumbled, and the ditches are grown up with weeds and scrub vegetation.  After going through the passageway, and turning left (the only option), the walls curve slightly.  One can imagine standing in that spot, perhaps with Mysorean troops coming in behind, and realizing that the British advancing down the ditch as well as over the walls, Tipu Sultan and the troops with him had little chance.  The quarters were really too close for effective sword fighting, and with muskets at the ready, and the short stabbing motions of a bayonet much more effective than the larger motions needing to use the Mysorean great swords, the result would not be surprising.

evidence of assault by cannon from across the river, 1799
After spending time here, speculating, measuring, inspecting stone and earthworks and trying to determine based on construction patterns what had been altered in the last two hundred years, we moved on a little further down the ramparts.  We saw the site where Col. Baillie had been imprisoned, and still travelling the length of walls that stretch several kilometres around their circumference, we came finally to the first place of the British assault.  Now it is has potential to be a scenic spot, but it has not been maintained, it is not easy to walk to the site, and garbage, as in many places in India, seems the dominant feature.  It is worth noting this site, as the British, coming across the strongest flow of the river where it divides around the island, had caught the Mysorean forces off guard and the assault was swift and decisive. Within the space of a few hours on May 4, 1799, the British took Srirangapanta fort, Tipu Sultan had died in battle, and the Fourth Mysore War had effectively ended with a loss of only thirty British lives in this final assault.  Subsequently, the British East India Company with the might of the British Empire behind it, began to take over virtual control of centres of power in southern India; the Wodeyar monarchy was reestablished, and the heir to Tipu Sultan was sent into exile.

And for some, Tipu Sultan stands as a hero for India, not just Karnataka or the Mysore region.  The myths of Tipu Sultan suggest not that he is the son of a man who usurped the power from its rightful holder, and who was known for his merciless streak and punishment in his rapacious desire to extend his realm; rather, the Tiger of Mysore is now the Tiger not because of cruelty, but because of nationalism, resistance to a foreign power, and standing for the Indian people.  The monarch of a small realm in a large Indian subcontinent, standing against the might of the British Empire, story of Tipu Sultan is told like an Indian version of David and Goliath except with tragic results, and the mausoleum and palace, the fortress and mythic site of death, are revered places claim the myth is history.

A Muslim in a predominantly Hindu world, the Tiger of Mysore seems in some ways an unlikely hero, and yet as an Indian in fight against the British, he represents the nation less the India of the past (different monarchies and regions, divided along linguistic lines) than the India of the present, a political union of diverse peoples, religions, cultural forms and languages who need a common bond beyond the Constitution.  A common myth can unify, bond an shape a national identity.  Just as in Canada we have created mythic qualities to stories of Canadian achievement – Vimy Ridge, the national railroad, peacekeepers – and those myths help forge a national identity, so the developing mythology of Tipu Sultan in southern India is nurturing a stronger sense of what it means to be Indian – not Hindu or southern, but Indian.   Myths have the power to divide, to shape identity, to unite, to mould nations.  While the story of Tipu Sultan can be told in many ways, in its mythic form it becomes larger than life, and in so doing gives life to national identity and aspirations.
At the end of a long but excellent day -- sitting where the British began their assault on Srirangapatna

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