India: A Wounded Civilization by V.S. Naipaul

Naipaul is not a much-liked figure in India. There are good reasons for it. First, nation-states do not like being condemned or harshly judged – India is no exception in this regard. Second, if a writer in his bashing enthusiasm goes on hitting while ignoring some key facts about a particular people and their history, he loses some of his credibility. There is a lot in Naipaul's oeuvre that cannot be dismissed, no matter how much his work makes one cringe.

He sees deep flaws in contemporary India, its culture and goes on to trace the genealogies of these flaws in India's history and its deep mythical past. Flaws that still reign the ordinary Indian mind. One of Naipaul's key findings is that Indians are neither skilled nor do they have any solid understanding of the real world. (For instance, Indians cannot make cheese). When facing a crisis, they take refuge in their glorious past, and retract from the immediate. Naipaul looks at history, key Indian figures, contemporary literature to prove his point.

What is so good about reading Naipaul is that he makes one listen and pay attention. One sees a lot of truth in what he says about India. It would be foolish to reject his work with smugness. However, what is so annoying about the book is that he does not see anything good or worthwhile in India's present or even past. He completely ignores the syncretic traditions of India, its music, classical dance forms and so forth. He does not see much in them because he cannot. He does not understand any Indian languages and is completely deracinated– and therefore– unqualified to judge. Even the native Indians do not automatically become proficient in admiring and understanding these classical Indian art forms. Even British historians, writers, politicians, while India was under their rule wrote extensively about Indian culture, primarily with arrogance –and at times with absolute ignorance. However what makes Naipaul different is that his dismissals are thoughtful and carefully crafted. I also assume that his engagement with the country is a way of dealing with his own past; this aspect of his work shows some sort of deep concern for the country. One criticizes because one cares.

Looking at the world we live in today; civil unrest, climate change, diminishing resources, water crisis. It is okay that some people (Indians) are not practical enough, that they recede rather than take charge, that they dream and practice 'karmic' theories in regards to their conception of the world, that instead of raping environment (further) and turning rivers into drains for material gains (all these Naipaul sees as a flaw in Indian character). In some weird way, primitive India, with its backwardness, is what in today's western Europe is referred to as sustainable living. Gandhi, with all his flaws and quirks, is sensitive when he professed 'Swaraj,' which apart from its layered meanings, is an appeal to Indian people to adopt more sustainable and eco-friendly lifestyles – ways that are more inclusive, that go beyond the merely anthropocentric ones.

I must say that what is so exemplary about this book is Naipaul's language. If one reads him for long and then picks up a book by any other Indian writer or a writer from elsewhere, one immediately recognizes that one is not in the same superior, exciting world of words anymore. One should read him just to see how words unfold and flow with a softness and strength of an exquisite porcelain.