Editorial Board Peter Knapczyk -Co-Editor-in-Chief, The University of Texas at Austin Elliott McCarter -Co-Editor-in-Chief, The University ofTexas at Austin Jyothsna Buddharaju -Editor, The University of Texas at Austin Cary Curtiss -Editor, The University ofTexas at Austin Justin Fifield -Editor, The University of Texas at Austin Dana Kornberg -Editor, The University ofTexas at Austin Kathryn Page-Lippsmeyer -Editor, The University of Texas at Austin Jacqueline Pallardy-Editor, The University of Texas at Austin Urmila Patil-Editor, The University ofTexas at Austin Nicola Rajic -Editor, The University of Texas at Austin Sanvita Sample -Editor, The University ofTexas at Austin Keely Sutton -Editor, The University ofTexas at Austin 
Faculty Advisor Syed Akbar Hyder, Department of Asian Studies 
Editorial Advisory Board Richard Barnett, The University ofVirginia Manu Bhagavan, Hunter College-CUNY Nandi Bhatia. The University ofWestern Ontario Purnima Bose, Indiana University Raza Mir, Monmouth University Gyan Prakash, Princeton University Paula Richman, Oberlin College Eleanor Zelliot, Carleton College 
The University of Texas Editorial Advisory Board Karnran Ali, Department of Anthropology James Brow, Department ofAnthropology Barbara Harlow, Department ofEnglish Janice Leoshko, Department ofArt and Art History 
W. Roger Louis, Department of History Gail Minault, Department ofHistory Veena Naregal, Department of Radio-Television-Film Sharmila Rudrappa, Department of Sociology Martha Selby, Department ofAsian Studies Kamala Visweswaran, Department ofAnthropology 

SAGAR 
A SOUTH ASIA GRADUATE RESEARCH JOURNAL 
Sponsored by South Asia Institute James Brow, Director The University of Texas at Austin 
Volume 16, Spring 2006 
Sagar is published biannually in the fall and spring of each year. The editors are responsible for the final selection of the content of the journal and reserve the right to reject any material deemed inappropriate for publication. Articles presented in the journal do not represent the views of either the South Asia Institute at The University of Texas at Austin or the Sagar editors. Responsibility for the opinions expressed and the accuracy of the facts published in articles and reviews rests solely with the individual authors. 
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Volume 16, Spring 2006  
TABLE OF CONTENTS  
Articles  
Reconsidering the Partition of South Asia: Government Sources and Oral History ALEXANDER PAINTER  1-21  
Pygmalion: Changes of Class and Culture KRJSTEN RUDISILL . . .. ... . . ...... .. .. .  23-34  
The Role of Gender in Conflict: Bombay Communal Riots of 1992-1993 }YOTHSNA BUDDHARAJU .. .. .... ............  35-50  
Untangling Uposatha: Indology, Etymologic, History in Buddhist Studies BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL .. . .. ... ... ........ .  51-65  
The Buddha's Biography as a Teaching of the Bodhisattvayana JUSTIN FIFIELD ....................  67-84  
Bibliographies  
A Bibliography ofDeath and Dying in Ancient Indian Religions MATTHEW R. SAYERS .... ...... ..........  85-106  


Reconsidering the Partition of South Asia: 
Government Sources and Oral History 

ALEXANDER PAINTER 
SUNY, UNIVERSITY AT BUFF ALO 

The history of South Asia was irrevocably altered by the Partition of India in 1947. One of the most significant aspects of Partition was the communal violence that occurred on a broad scale in many parts of the subcontinent. This study will explore how official sources and oral testimonies represented or obscured the experience of violence for the men and women who lived in the region of the Punjab through the tragedy that is Partition. I intend to compare and contrast the different kinds of evidence from both categories of sources, official sources and oral histories, and assess their important role in grasping the violence of Partition. It is the argument of this paper that to improve our current understanding of the experience of violence in the Punjab during Partition, historians must utilize both official sources and testimonies recovered by oral historians. Such a narrative would successfully bridge what David Gilmartin describes as a disjunction between the analyses of Partition performed in the elite high political realm, and the popular histories that represent the subalterns (Gilmartin 1998, 1069). 
I will focus specifically on the Punjab in part because as the scholarship has recognized, the violence that engulfed regions of the Punjab was different from the violence in other parts of India during this period. I examine the value of official sources and oral testimonies available to historians for the study of Partition in the Punjab. The official sources scrutinized here are documents of the Punjab Boundary Commission gathered from the Punjab Archives in Lahore: the India Office Library in London: the Quaid-i-Azam Academy in Karachi; the Department of National Archives in Islamabad: and compiled by the Pakistani National Documentation Center at Lahore. Other official documents examined here are The Reports of the Bengal Boundmy Commission and of the Punjab Bounda1y Commission (1947) and statistical data from the 1921 and 1941 censuses of India. The oral testimony explored in the final section of this study was described by Urvashi Butalia in The Other Side of Silence. When analyzing memory historians must navigate 
2 ALEXANDER PAINTER 
several pitfalls; two potential issues are the agendas of those being interviewed. and the time elapsed between the event and the recovery of the memory. In examining these sources, I ask three questions. First, what information is put forth in these documents? Second, what evidence do Muslims. non-Muslims, and other testifying groups attempt to obscure? Last, what is the value of these documents as evidence for a historian of Partition, and which historiographic tradition do they lend more support to? The answers suggested by the evidence may help improve our current understanding of a complicated, yet key, moment in an ongoing history linking the state and the arenas of everyday life in South Asia (Gilmartin 1998. 1092). 
OFFICIAL SOURCES 
Until recently scholars have not revisited the official sources compiled during the Partition of Punjab, which record the political events and atmosphere that surrounded this ordeal. In my study of the historiography of Partition in the Punjab, I have witnessed a distinct trend to emphasize the political negotiations between the elite leaders of the political parties involved, as apparent in a recent article by Ishtiaq Ahmed. Using the official documents of the Punjab Boundary Commission compiled and selected by Mian Muhammad Sadullah, Ahmed states that the purpose of his study is to bring out the main arguments put forth by the actors involved in the complete negotiation process beginning before the Punjab Boundary Commission and ending with the Radcliffe Award (Talbot 1999. 117). Moreover, Ahmed considers the cultural and political implications of religiously dividing the Punjab into eastern and western territories (ibid., 118). While this research is needed, it does not go far enough. While I use the same documents, I explore each represented group's depositions, and highlight why Muslims and non­Muslims chose to divide the Punjab along religious or secular principles. My research aims to clarify how the represented groups gave depositions before the Pmtjab Boundary Commission to reach a compromise, but ultimately emerged with sharply polarized positions regarding Partition. 
In the first part of this study, I examine contemporary official sources about Partition to highlight the experience of violence during the Partition of the Punjab in 1947. These sources are a compilation of official documents from the 1947 Punjab Boundary Commission, the Radcliffe A ward, and the 1921 and 1941 Indian Censuses; they include testimony from the representative groups most intimately involved in the political process of Partition. These groups were the Muslim League, the Indian National Congress, the Sikhs, the Scheduled Castes and British civil servants. While this set of primary sources provides rich information on Partition, two broad questions must be addressed when looking at these Boundary Commission testimonies. First, what information is put forth in these reports by British officials and by each religious community affected by Partition? Second, what information is obscured? Finally what is the value of these documents as evidence for a historian looking at the violence during Partition? 
ISSUES CONFRONTING THE PUNJAB BOUNDARY 
COMMISSION 

On June 3 1947, the Governor-General's office sent a telegram to the Radcliffe Boundary Commission, outlining criteria for Partition in the Punjab; the telegram provides the necessary context for the disagreements that emerged at the Boundary Commission hearings. Viceroy Mountbatten's telegram stated: 
The Boundary Commission is instructed to demarcate the boundaries of the two parts of the Punjab based on ascertaining the contiguous majority areas of Muslims and non-Muslims. Jn doing so it will also take into consideration other factors. (Sadullah 1993, 78) 
Mountbatten listing ambiguous and unspecific other factors as a decisive condition for Partition fast became a point where opinions clashed. Consequently, between July 21 and July 31 , representatives of the Muslim League, Indian National Congress (INC) and non-Muslim at the Boundary Commission crystallized the divergent interpretations of what decisive criteria the Punjab would be divided by. The three primary factors highlighted by these representatives at the Boundary Commission were population, economics, and religious landmarks. Not surprisingly, the arguments each religious community set forth served their own particular interests when constructing a newly imagined boundary between India and Pakistan. 
The second issue that highlights the inability of the Muslim League, the INC, and non-Muslims to agree upon a boundary was the announcement of a notional boundary, an imaginary border, which separated the Punjab into religiously distinct Eastern and Western territories. Mountbatten announced this too on June 3, 1947: 
It was necessary, in order to ascertain the will of the people of the Punjab, Bengal. and part of Assam, to lay down boundaries between the Muslim majority areas and the remaining areas, but I want to make clear that the ultimate boundaries will be settled by a Boundary 
ALEXANDER PAINTER 
Commission and will almost certainly not be identical with those 
which have been provisionally adopted. (Sadullah 1993, 2) 
Again, the Boundary Commission hearings make it plain that the Muslim League, INC and non-Muslim communities interpreted Mountbatten's statement in the light of their competing agendas. For instance, Indian National Congress Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan notes in the non-Muslim community's report to Boundary Commission Chairman Cyril Radcliffe that the notional boundary dividing the Punjab was intended to be an interim boundary until the final border was decided upon later (ibid., 162). INC representative M.C. Setalvad reasserts this position, by arguing that because the Boundary Commission had been formed, the preliminary notional boundary no longer had any practical consequence or effect on Partition in the Punjab (ibid., 2:2-3). In contrast, Muslim League Justice Din Muhammad argued in his community's final report to Chairman Radcliffe that as the Boundary Commission determined the final boundaries for Partition, without the agreement of all represented groups on what other factors would establish fixed borders, Partition must revert to the notional boundary based strictly on population statistics (ibid., 3:19). This conflict on the status of the notional boundary reveals how each group intended to expound their interpretation as the closest to the intentions of the British chairs on the Boundary Commission, and therefore ultimately correct. 
ARGUMENTS OF REPRESENTED GROUPS: 
RELIGIOUS AND SECULAR 

The first task of this study is to distinguish whether arguments of the Muslim League, the Indian National Congress, the Sikhs, the British, and the Scheduled Castes were based on religious or secular considerations. Mountbatten's radio announcement of June 3, 1947, makes clear the intention of the British to establish a border in the Punjab on the basis of religious community and population data. An explanation for this British philosophy, while very useful, will be left unanswered in this study. Religion again pervaded the argument put forth by the Muslim League for the creation of Pakistan during Partition, and the same was true for the non-Muslim Sikh delegation. In contrast, because the Indian National Congress was a secular political party, their depositions deliberately focused on economic considerations and not religious affiliation. These divergent perspectives without a doubt contributed to the incompatibility apparent among the various represented groups as they testified before the Boundary Commission, headed by Cyril Radcliffe. 
A conscious decision to establish population as the decisive factor in determining boundaries is evident after analyzing the various Muslim League testimonies at the Boundary Commission. This agenda is transparent in several statements by the Muslim League representatives. Justice Din Muhammad's assertion in the Muslim League's final report that the principal task of the Boundary Commission was to ascertain contiguous majority areas of Muslims and non-Muslims is a clear example (Sadullah 1993, 3: 10). Justice Muhammad argued further that a majority could only be determined in a territory by counting heads and by no other means, as was decided by the Governor-General's office in their June 3 announcement (ibid., 9-10). The basic motivation behind the Muslim League's agenda was the feeling that a non-Muslim-majority Congress was constantly and deliberately under­representing and under-privileging the Muslim community. Din Muhammad thus likened the non-Muslim-controlled Congress in the Punjab to robbers, and argued that the Muslim League's insistence on division was rooted in their tenured status as victims (ibid., 49). 
A pivotal document used by the Muslim League to support these territorial claims was the 1941 Census. First, the significant Muslim majority revealed by the Census substantiated the Muslim League's claim that Muslims were in an indisputable majority in the districts claimed by the League, which as a result should be allotted to Pakistan (ibid., 66-67). Justice Din Muhammad argued, therefore, that under no circumstances should either whole or part of these districts be taken out of the Muslim majority category (ibid., 11-12). Second, with a Muslim majority confirmed in these districts, the Muslim League would control significant commercial and transportation centers in the Punjab, such as Lahore and numerous canal ways. While Muslim League representatives at the Boundary Commission acknowledged that non-Muslims might be wealthier or more resourceful in certain districts of the Punjab, Muslim League control of this territory was still justified because Muslims were the majority of workers at the factories and the majority of users of the canal and railway system. For example, in the district of Lahore alone, according to 1941 Census figures, Muslims were in the majority above non­Muslims by over 3.5 lakhs (350,000) (ibid., 35). Justice Din Muhammad argued that given this data, ignoring the Muslim majority of the region would undercut the principles ofjustice the Boundary Commission was instructed to follow at its inception (ibid. ). 1 
In keeping with this emphasis on population data as the decisive criteria in determining boundaries, the Muslim League representatives discounted a 
1 The principle that the Boundary Commission was to detennine Partition according to population is what Justice Din Muhammad states is in jeopardy by ignoring the 1941 Census data. 
ALEXANDER PAINTER 
variety of other factors. Justice Muhammad Munir bluntly asserted that historical, ethnic, religious, social, and cultural factors were secondary to population figures when determining contiguous majority districts, and therefore unimportant unless backed up by population figw-es (ibid. 112). Munir became an attorney for the district of Lahore following the Government of India Act in 1935, and more importantly, at the outset of the Boundary Commission he was a High Court Judge at the district level in Lahore (Chaudhri 1973, ii). One factor clearly attacked by the Muslim League legal representatives in their testimony was religious considerations: specifically, the location of Sikh shrines, and their relevance to determining final boundaries. Muslim League representatives argued that if the Sikh claims for territory of religious importance were a factor in deciding Partition boundaries, Muslim claims along the same lines needed to be considered as well, resulting in unmanageable circumstances for the creation of a permanent boundary to divide the Punjab (Sadullah 1993, 3:119). Furthermore, Muhammad Munir argued that according to the June 3 plan put forth by Mountbatten, it was not agreed that the Sikhs were permitted to argue that because their religion and religious leaders originated in the Punjab that they were a special case, as it would violate the basic principle of contiguity and majority. It is then clear from these documents that the Muslim League insisted to the Punjab Boundary Commission that contiguous majorities based on 1941 Census data should be the basis for determining boundaries. 
Much as the representatives of the Muslim League established a clear agenda in their depositions before of the Punjab Boundary Commission, the Indian National Congress representatives also offered their own distinct interpretation. The Congress representatives, again a team of Jaw officials, also posited population as an important factor; however, in order to construct an equitable boundary between Muslim and non-Muslim communities they emphasized the consideration of other factors. The Congress representatives' deliberate focus on the importance of other factors highlights their attempt to shift the emphasis away from population data alone. The other factor highlighted most often by the INC representatives to the Boundary Commission was economic interests. M. C. Setalvad, a member of the Congress's delegation, argued that in the single case of Lyallpur, where Muslims were in a majority by five percent, non-Muslims held ownership of sixty-five percent of the economic assets in the district such as land, heavy industry, canals, railroads, and factories, and that these interests had to be considered when exploring how to divide the Punjab (ibid., 2:40-41). The Congressional representatives supported their claim with statistics gained from the urban immovable property tax figures of 1945-1946. They pointed out how non-Muslin1s paid seven times the amount of property taxes as Muslims in Lyallpur, and sales and income taxes in excess of ten times the Muslim contribution (Sadullah 1993, 2:92). 
The Congressional representatives further invoked the historical precedents of how boundaries were determined in the Balkans after the First World War, and the Indian province ofOrissa in 1931. Using this comparison, 
M. C. Setalvad argued that demarcating boundaries between two historically and economically distinct communities must take into account factors such as transportation, communications, and economic livelihood (ibid., 29). One specific comparison to the Balkans that Setalvad asserted was that there economic necessities had supplemented the ethnic and historical preponderance of either Czechs or Slovaks (ibid., 30). Another precedent the Congress used was the drawing of boundaries for the province of Orissa in 1931. Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan highlighted the fact that Orissa's boundary had to be determined not only by population data, but also by linguistic, economic, and geographic considerations (ibid., 3:174). Mahajan was the most qualified INC delegate to the Boundary Commission, and quickly became the INC' s counterweight to the justices of the Muslim League (Mahajan 1963, 113).2 The INC perspective on the event derived from the Report ofthe Orissa Committee which held that language, race, the attitude of the people, geographical position, economic interest, and administrative convenience were all relevant factors to determine Orissa's boundary (Sadullah 1993, 2:31). It is clear Congress would have had the upper hand in many of these other factors in the Punjab. The other factors were, therefore, extremely important aspects of the Boundary Commission's interpretation of the Partition of the Punjab; they were definite alternatives to population as decisive criteria. 
In this way, Congress constantly undercut the value of the 1941 Census figures that the Muslim League used to buttress their claims to several districts. In his final report to the Boundary Commission, Justice Mehr Chand Mahajan asserted that in one case the Muslim League's claim of being in the majority in the Shakargarh Tehsil was fictitious, because both the 1931 and 1941 censuses were unreliable as the Sikh and Hindu communities had actively boycotted them in protest to British occupation (ibid., 3:189). These boycotts are documented in the general remarks for the Census of India for 1941 . The 1941 Census Commissioner for India stated that the 1931 and 1941 Censuses coincided with widespread civil disobedience in the Punjab and Bengal (Census 1943, 9). Mahajan countered the 1941 population data presented by the Muslim League with statistics from the 1921 Census that had 
' Mahajan 's background in law started with his education at the Government Law College, which eventually brought him the position of High Court Bench of the Punjab. 
ALEXANDER PAINTER 
the participation of all major religious communities: the Muslims, Hindus and Sikhs. He concluded that because prior Censuses up to 1921 had shown a clear non-Muslim majority in Shakargarh this earlier data could not be omitted from consideration (Sadullah 1993, 3:191). The Census of India for 1921 does not give the statistics for the Shakargarh Tehsil; however, non-Muslims hold a majority in the district of Gurdaspur where Shakargarh is located (Census 1924, 192-93 ). 
Exploring the Sikh depositions at the Boundary Commission, the authority of other factors was again the central issue discussed. Here, the value of religion was asserted when claiming territory in the Punjab. According to the Sikh legal representation, the line of reasoning that boundaries were to be determined merely on population data ran counter to the fundamental reason for Partition; religious difference (Sadullah 1993, 3:229). The districts of Sheikhupura, Gurujranwala, Gurdaspur, Lahore, and Amritsar were contested by the Sikh community. However, most important to the Sikh delegation was the district of Nankana Sahib, the birth place of their founder Guru. In the final Sikh report a representative of the Sikh Assembly Party, Sardar Hamam Singh, compares the Sikh community's special position in these parts of the Punjab to the position that the Jewish community was determined to have in Palestine, on the basis of the Balfour Declaration of 1917 (ibid., 133). Indian National Congress representative Justice Teja Singh used his argumentative skills (he was a High Court Judge for the district of Gujrawala) to elaborate this perspective in two significant religious analogies (Singh 1982, 41-44). First, he likened the importance of the ten central Sikh Gurus, all of whom had shrines associated with them in West Punjab, to the status of Christ in Christianity, Muhammad in Islam, and the principal incarnations of Vishnu in Hinduism (ibid., 2:234). Second, he gave the Gurdwaras, the Sikh places of worship, the same religious status as the Muslim shrines in Mecca and Medina (ibid., 174). These analogies performed two tasks for the Sikh community. They were a deliberate attempt of the Sikhs to base their argument on historical precedent, since the British regarded religious factors as essential when constructing boundaries. At the same time, the Sikhs set out to show that the Muslim League claims for a nation based on religious community in South Asia were inferior to Sikh claims, because Islam did not originate in the subcontinent, but in the Middle East. Thus, it is clear the main thrust of the Sikh claims to territory in the Punjab was religiously oriented. 
Like the Congress representation at the Boundary Commission, the Sikhs also viewed economics as an important factor, and made it the second thrust of their claims. Economic interests were vital for the Sikhs because much of the capital and investment provided to build the infrastructure of the Punjab was from the Sikh community, and additionally they were part of the non-Muslim maJonty landowners in the Punjab before Partition. According to Sardar Harnam Singh in his arguments for the Sikhs on July 24 1947, government data made clear that the Sikh community owned 90,000 acres more than the Muslim community in Gurdaspur, Pathankot, Pasrur, and Narowal tehsils in the Punjab (ibid.). This is significant since the Muslim League based their claim on a population majority in these districts. To counter the Muslim League's stance, the Sikh Assembly Party's Hamam Singh highlighted the Sikh's ownership of more land and thus attempted to shift authority away from population figures by arguing that the economic interests of non-Muslims far outweighed the interests of Muslims (ibid., 175). Another way the Sikh representatives asserted the authority of their claims to territories in the Punjab was by drawing attention to the earlier British decision to allocate land and irrigation resources to demobilized Sikh soldiers who had served in the Imperial Anny. Sardar Hamam Singh cited the Administration Report of the Punjab, which demonstrated how the Upper Bari Doab Canal had been 
planned for the benefit of disbanded Sikh soldiers (ibid., 161). 
Throughout their depositions, the Sikh representatives attacked the rationale of the Muslim League's claim of a population majority in certain Punjab districts. The Sikhs first highlighted the fact that one-third of the Muslim occupants in Lahore district, according to the 1931 Census, were landless people and menials (ibid., 125). Addressing the Muslim League, Indian National Congress and non-Muslim representatives of the Boundary Commission, Sardar Hamam Singh labeled this population as ''floating people" (ibid.). He argued that the mobile Muslim population could not be given the same status as people who owned the land, and that this would undercut the integrity of the Boundary Commission (ibid.). Kingsley Davis substantiates the Sikh claim of a significantly smaller urban Muslim population to a non-Muslim by pointing out that in 1931 6.5 percent of all Muslims living in the Punjab lived in urban settings (Davis 1949, 261). Another issue on which the Sikh representatives contested the Muslim League's claim to population majority in the Punjab was the inclusion of South Asian Christians in the League's data, by the request of the Christians in an earlier memorandum. Both Sikh delegates, Justice Teja Singh and Sardar Hamam Singh, argued that adding Christians to the Muslim League's population figures was contrary to the guidelines of drawing boundaries on the basis of Muslim and non-Muslim communities, as spelled out in the June 3, 1947 atmouncement by Governor-General Mountbatten (ibid., 155). 
The final group who attempted to assert their claims to the Boundary Commission were the Scheduled Castes. However, unlike the Muslim League, the Congress. and Sikh communities whose reports to the Boundary Commission were considered before finalizing boundaries, the Scheduled Castes were continuously and deliberately disregarded. The central agenda of the Scheduled Castes was to gain recognition as a separate, secular community on the basis of class, which would allow them to be granted territory separate from Muslim and non-Muslim territories. A letter on June 18, 194 7, from Sunder Singh, a Scheduled Caste representative of India's new Constituent Assembly, states that it was not understandable how 37.5 lakh 
(3.75 million) Punjabi Sikhs could receive representation on the Boundary Commission while 16 lakh (1.6 million) Scheduled Caste people could go unrepresented (ibid., 45). The letter further claimed that Crown and waste land should have been set aside for colonization by the Scheduled Caste community (ibid., 45). The Scheduled Castes delegation again sought representation in a July 10, 1947 letter to Mountbatten, in which they argued that to avoid denying rights and justice to their unfortunate community, they must have their case represented before the Punjab Boundary Commission (ibid., 143). The Scheduled Caste representation shows how the drawing of boundaries was far more complicated than the June 3, 1947 announcement by the Governor-General, which declared that Partition would be demarcated primarily in terms of areas of Muslim and non-Muslim majorities (ibid., 6). 
THE BRITISH 
After exploring the arguments of the major political groups and the Scheduled Castes, I now consider the role of the British officials at the Punjab Boundary Commission hearings. An examination of the relevant documents makes transparent a distinct British agenda, which was to expedite their exit from India and reduce the possibility of India becoming '"Balkanized." The first part of this agenda was made clear by the British on June 5, 194 7 at the inception of the Boundary Commission, when Mountbatten stated that the paramount reason for the hearings was to speed up the process of giving complete autonomy to the Indians (ibid., 18-19). According to Mountbatten, this concern to accelerate the process of Partition was behind his refusal to invite the United Nations to the Boundary Commission hearings. He argued that the best arrangement for a successful Partition of the Punjab would have included the United Nations; however, due to the British desire to accomplish Partition by August 15, 1947, this would not be feasible (ibid., 30). Additionally, the British announced that unless a compromise was reached by the August 15th deadline, the division of the Punjab would be established according to the notional boundary, thus handicapping the effectiveness of the Boundary Commission hearings in two ways (ibid., 170). Cyril John Radcliffe chair of the Boundary Commission, labeled the potential disagreements ;egarding other factors to determine boundaries as impossible hurdles that would prevent agreement on any on boundary (Radcliffe 1947, 11). First, the primary factor in the Muslim League's argument for Partition was boundaries based on population majorities. Since the notional boundary already followed these guidelines, the Muslim League only had to counter the Indian National Congress's and non-Muslim arguments to obtain their goal. Indian National Congress representative Mahajan in his autobiography supports this speculation clearly. At the outset of the Boundary Commission hearings Justice Mahajan said Muslim League delegate Din Muhammad told him bluntly that the Muslim League would report only their list of demands, and would not compromise with the INC and Sikhs (Mahajan 1963, 115). Second, because non-Muslims, already in a majority in East Punjab, thought that the notional boundary was unsatisfactory, the potential for communal conflict increased markedly as the deadline neared without a compromise between the various groups. This potential for violence later became a reality. 
In addition, the British accelerated Partition in the Punjab by refusing to consider statistics collected by individual communities, even if these statistics were based on government data, and they also disregarded the arguments of communities in the Punjab outside of the guidelines of religious affiliation. For instance, in a July 22, 1947 telegram from two British officials, S. E. Abbott and Evan Jenkins, the intentional disregard of data gathered by the communities is apparent. The British officials refused a request by the Sikh delegation to postpone the Boundary Commission deadline. The request, if granted, would have allowed the non-Muslim delegation to collect updated revenue and population figures from other government sources in order to support their claim that the 1941 census figures were flawed. The British argued the process would be time-consuming and pointless since the information might never be used unless agreed to by the Boundary Commission (ibid., 83). 
As demonstrated earlier, another community that was consciously denied adequate representation by the British was the Scheduled Castes in the Punjab. The British maintained they would not hear the arguments of delegations beyond the Muslim League, INC and non-Muslim communities because all parties involved had originally decided upon this organizational format for the Boundary Commission, wherein the Scheduled Castes were never intended to be separately represented (ibid., 116). Thus the sources reveal how the British were concerned to speed up the Partition of the Punjab so as to facilitate their departure from India, whatever the consequence for the Punjab Boundary Commission hearings and their legitimacy. 
OFFICIAL SOURCES AND ANALYZING 
THE EXPERIENCE OF VIOLENCE 

Undoubtedly, an examination of these official sources of the Punjab Boundary Commission enhances our understanding of Partition in the Punjab. However, the information included in these documents fleshes out the historiography of high politics more than it does the histories from the bottom up. We see this in the pervasiveness of an elite perspective throughout the testimonies. Each of the represented communities at the Boundary Commission designated representatives either previously or currently in politics or the judicial system, therefore, the Boundary Commission reports put forth an inherently elite perspective. Thus the Boundary Commission hearings substantiate David Gilmartin's point that the high politics historiography is an analysis of negotiations between the British, the Indian National Congress, and the Muslim League that led to the creation of Pakistan (Gilmartin 1998, 1069). Therefore, if a historian were to base his or her interpretation entirely on this compilation of documents, the Partition of the Punjab would appear to be entirely uninfluenced by the politics of local life (ibid.). Then all the violence during the Partition of the Punjab in 1947 would be presented as a consequence of the political decisions made at the highest level; further, acts of violence would represent not an enduring communal discourse, but merely sporadic riots. 
Despite their limitations, these official sources are still valuable for historians analyzing the experience of violence during Partition. The lack of attention to the communal atrocities that transpired during the same time as the Punjab Boundary Commission hearings is striking. Although the official sources spanned from June 3, when Mountbatten announced the creation of a Boundary Commission for the Punjab, through the August 15 deadline establishing Pakistan as a nation in 194 7, only six instances of violence were recorded. British officials only discussed the communal conflicts twice; once, in reporting that communal violence between Muslims and non-Muslims had been on the rise since August 1946 (Sadullah 1993, 1:220). Further, in the few instances of violence they documented, only one group was categorized as perpetrators, the Sikh community. A letter dated August 2, 1947, highlighted numerous attacks by Sikh on villages and trains containing Muslims in the Amritsar and Lahore districts. The British stated that this violence was brought on by the Sikhs' disagreement with the final Boundary Commission Award, which did not give them the Nankana Sahib district with their founder's birthplace (ibid., 237-38). 
This lack of attention to the pervasive violence raises questions. Specifically, why were Sikhs shown to be the only culprits? Equally important, why was the escalating communal fighting only mentioned twice by the British? It seems plausible that the disregard of supplemental information from the non-Muslim delegations, as well as the silence about the growing violence as the deadline neared, served the British agenda to withdraw from India immediately. 
Much like the selective British recording of Partition violence, the Muslim League's arguments also depicted a very narrow interpretation of the violence in the Punjab by local Muslim communities. In the Muslim League's final report to the Boundary Commission, Justice Din Muhammad gave numerous examples of statements by Sikh leaders calling for violence against Muslims in contested districts in the Punjab. He cited the Sikhs uttering phrases such as "the might of the sword alone shall rule," and "our battle-axe shall decide if the Muslims shall rule" (Sadullah 1993, 3:50-51). The testimony highlighting the Sikhs' violent nature emphasized the concern stated by the Muslim League that a non-Muslim majority would continue to oppress the Muslims if Partition did not occur. However, these statements mark the first time the Muslim League presented such testimony to the Boundary Commission. Equally striking about these statements is the League's failure to mention any retaliation by Muslims against the non­Muslim communities in this tense environment or the context surrounding the statements that could have led to the quoted statements. Clearly, the Muslim League hoped to portray an image of faithfully following British guidelines for Partition, while simultaneously establishing the Sikh's as an unstable component of the Boundary Commission. 
When we consider the violence reported by non-Muslim communities to the Punjab Boundary Commission, the Sikhs are the only represented non­Muslim group in these official sources. The Sikhs, like the Muslim League, gave several depositions about the communal violence against their community. Here, the perpetrators of Partition violence are clearly identified as Muslims. This directly contradicted the Muslim League's report to the Boundary Commission. In the Sikh argument it was Muslim leaders, not Sikhs, who incited their community to violence. Justice Teja Singh describes how the leaders of the Muslim League commonly incited protesters at public meetings to chant, "We shall take Pakistan in the same manner as we took Hindustan, by the use of sword" (ibid., 223). The Sikh report to the Boundary Commission documents the only acts of violence included in the official sources, through a series of appendices. These appendices give statistical data gathered from police in the Multan and Rawalpindi districts in the Punjab, both Muslim-majority districts. According to the information supplied by the Sikhs, more than 2,400 non-Muslims were killed or burnt alive in communal conflicts instigated by Muslims, who in tum suffered only 52 casualties (ibid., 
270). Additionally, the value of non-Muslim property that was destroyed was over 140 million rupees (ibid.). In every category, Justice Teja Singh chrifies that the Sikhs were undeniably target of the Muslim attacks (ibid.). 
The first questions to ask when examining the Sikh testimonies of violence is, why did they focus on the cities of Rawalpindi and Mul1:m? The answer may be found in the Sikh argument for the Bmmdal)' Commission. The Boundary Commission should consider religion and economics when finalizing a boundary in the Punjab. In Rawalpindi and Multan the non­Muslim community held a majority of the assets, both property and means of production. Thus the Sikh Boundary Commission representatives belonged to the wealthier part of the population, and stood to lose most of their wealth if Partition disregarded economic factors. Another question that must be addressed is why the Congressional report to the Boundary Commission did not corroborate the Sikh assessment of violence, or even mention it. As in the other testimonies of violence from these official sources, the dialectic is primarily between the Muslim League and Sikhs, not the Congress. As seen in the maps of the Punjab included in the Punjab Boundary Commission's final report, the cities of Multan and Rawalpindi are located deep within Muslim majority districts, in the southern and northern regions of West Punjab (Sadullah 1993, 4:2). Because the Muslim League believed population should determine the demarcation of boundaries, whereas Sikhs believed that religious factors should decide Partition borders, both Multan and Rawalpindi were high risk zones for communal conflict. According to Justice Teja Singh, on July 22, 1947, communally motivated Muslim attacks occurred to promote the Muslim League agenda, which was to establish a homogenous Islamic nation (ibid., 3:227). 
In this case, the official sources are just as valuable for what was not covered, reported, or documented by the representatives to the Boundary Commission. While acts of communal violence were brought up before the Boundary Commission, they were often characterized as isolated occurrences directly related to the political atmosphere in the subcontinent. Moreover, there is no recognition of the effect that the violence had on the Muslim and non-Muslim communities that were involved. Furthermore, the horrific forms of the violence were grossly underrepresented throughout these official sources. 
Most visibly, very little attention was given to the massive forced migrations of population. As late August 12, 1947, British officials in the Punjab did not report any large scale transfers of population, and more importantly, did not anticipate the need to create a plan to respond to mass migrations since they were not considered effective political options (ibid., I :32). Furthermore, the transfer of Muslim or non-Muslim populations that occurred in the Puajab before and throughout the Boundary Commission hearings did not receive attention from any delegation in the arguments presented at the hearings. 
Another kind of violence insufficiently documented was the widespread atrocities against Muslim and non-Muslim women throughout the region. In fact, throughout the hearings of the Punjab Boundary Commission, not a single instance can be found from any delegation that dealt with the women affected by Partition. The violence against women came from aggressors typically from outside of their religious community, which suggests that such an erasure of the female experience from the official record was deliberate. This hypothesis is strengthened when we consider the oral testimony from Partition survivors in the final part of this paper. 
One other aspect of Partition that the Boundary Commission hearings failed to record was the lack of any connection between the Hindu population in the Punjab and the communal violence. The testimonies of violence mentioned during the Boundary Commission hearings essentially focused on Muslims and Sikhs: however, a majority of the non-Muslim communities represented were Hindu. The issue then is why the reports did not mention Hindus as perpetrators of any communal violence in the Punjab. 
Finally, what was the root of the polarization between the Muslim League and Sikhs during Partition? One possible explanation is that the Sikhs were present primarily in hotly contested territories, and were not in a majority in any single district. Because of this, the Sikhs routinely competed with the Muslim population for control of scarce resources and territories either sacred or economically important. 
ORAL TESTIMONY 
In the final part of this study, I consider the oral testimonies of Muslims and non-Muslims who experienced Partition first-hand, and their value as evidence as compared to the official sources. The oral sources used in this section are drawn from Urvashi Butalia's The Other Side of Silence: they consist of testimony from individuals personally affected at the local level in the Punjab, from the Muslim, Hindu, and Sikh communities. The impact of gender relations is clear in these interviews (Butalia 2000, 12). 
Before analyzing the information available in the oral histories, we must consider the potential pitfalls of such evidence for historians. Urvashi Butalia, author of The Other Side of Silence, acknowledges that memory and oral testimony can lack objectivity, and are therefore imperfect sources for historians (ibid., 8). However, because the history of Partition is contested, and its ramifications have continued to shape the political milieu in South Asia, recent Partition historiography has incorporated personal histories to highlight the impact of Partition on the lives of ordinary people, both men and women (Gilmartin 1998, 1069). This focuses on the local experience of violence during Partition returning agency to ordinary people who are more often than not absent in the high politics historiography. 
Further complicating this study is the use of oral testimonies coming from a secondary source, Butalia's account. In other words, the oral testimonies explored in this study bear the mark of the researcher's bias. Butalia makes it clear that the testimonies included in her narrative were selected on seemingly arbitrary criteria of which testimonies meant the most to her personally (Butalia 2000, 11 ). Second, the limited number of oral testimonies included here is not intended to represent the communities of Muslims and non­Muslims affected by the violence of Partition in the Punjab. Still these interviews of Partition survivors are of local events and help to put forth a necessary retelling of this ordeal, while contributing significantly to a history from below of Partition in the Punjab. 
Evidence from Oral history 
One major benefit of the oral testimony is the reinsertion of a subaltern perspective into the historical discourse about Partition. The experience of violence is multi-layered. Still, clear distinctions are evident between male and female experiences of Partition throughout these oral testimonies. Butalia learned through the testimonies of women the intimate details of their lives, such as what occurred within their homes and to their children. Men, however, predominantly spoke of relations between communities or the broad political realities (ibid., 12). Thus the next part of this study explores the oral testimonies and highlights two particular issues that confronted men and women during Partition: martyrdom, and the movement of people. 
The fact that women were particularly targeted by violence as symbols of the opposing religious community was at the core of the Partition experience of martyrdom. ''Voluntary" suicides (a label given by Butalia) and organized murders across rural and urban Punjab were the most prevalent forms of extreme suffering experienced by women, and these experiences are accessible through oral testimonies. In an account from Thamali, a town near Rawalpindi, Basant Kaur described numerous incidents of violence that she asserted were widespread and common during Partition. This Sikh woman states that many other Sikh women were killed because their male relatives and husbands in the community feared what the Muslims would do to their children and spouses physically, in addition to forcibly converting the Sikh women to Islam (Butalia 2000, 159). Basant Kaur highlights one memory of violence from March 1947 in this excerpt: 
My Husband? My nephew killed him, my nephew. Because they had killed the girls, his daughter, sister, grandchildren, with their kirpans, and then my jeth's son had a pistol and he killed his mother, his uncle . . . then my nephew killed my husband with a pistol. He had a small daughter, one-and-a-half years old, she also ate pistol shots. Yes, my husband was killed by my nephew as I told you; he killed him because my husband said he did not want to become a Muslim. (ibid., 160) 
Bir Bahadur Singh, Basant Singh's son, elaborates on the experience of violence in his account: 
In Guiab Singh's haveli twenty-six girls had been put aside. First of all my father, Sant Raja Singh, prayed, he did ardaas, saying we have not allowed your Sikhi to get stained, and in order to save it we are going to sacrifice our daughters, make them martyrs. He killed two, and the third was my sister, Mann Kaur .. . my sister came and sat in front of my father, and I stood there, right next to him. It was such a frightening, such a fearful scene. My father with his own hands moved her dupatta aside and then he swung kirpan and her head and neck rolled off and fell. (ibid., 163) 
From these interviews, it is clear that women were the chief targets of such violence, and that the men believed that they committed these acts of violence to secure the women's honor and ensure the community's purity. 
We may infer more from such evidence. First, the gathering of women to be martyred in villages largely happened at the insistence of the men of their communities. It is generally undisputed that men from the other community attacked the women as well. That said, Butalia notices poignantly that women often faced violence both from their own families and from their communities, with their own men lionizing the women who died as heroes (Butalia 2000, 170). The testimony given by the male perpetrators highlights why such violence was persistent during Partition. 
In another interview, Mangal Singh addresses this issue. Singh, a Sikh reputed to have assisted in killing seventeen family members before migrating during Partition, reasoned that the women would not have survived the trek to East Punjab, and their martyrdom would save them from the worse fate of conversion or death at the hands of a Muslim (ibid., 154). Going one step further, Mangal Singh justified the murders as the fulfillment of a final request from his fearless female relatives (ibid.). The question must be asked, why would the men construe these killings as beneficial to their women? 
From the interviews, it appears that some women did seek martyrdom rather than a forced conversion. Bir Bahadur Singh recounts the death of several women, again from Rawalpindi, who voluntarily drowned themselves in the local well. One of the women, Sardami Guiab Kaur, was a Sikh mother who had earlier witnessed the killing of women at the hands of Sant Raja Singh. She insisted her daughters and herself also be saved, and that the men should not allow the women to be abducted by Muslims who would put their lives and honor at risk (ibid., 164). The episode ended with the voluntary drowning of eighty Sikh women from this community. While this interview substantiates the memories put forth by the men, whether or not the women who died perceived matters in the same light as the men is a question left unanswered by these testimonies. This clarifies the problem about many of these testimonies: a majority of the evidence is tinted by a particular, masculine interpretation. Unfortunately, we may never find out more about this issue because of death due to old age of women who survived the violence of Partition. 
The forced movement of people during Partition is another aspect addressed in these interviews. Again, men and women were affected differently. The oral testimonies describe atrocities specifically aimed at women, such as abduction. In the oral account of Anis Kidwai, a Muslim social worker from Delhi, the female abductees during Partition faced violence from the very police they sought assistance from. Kidwai remembered: 
In all of this sometimes a girl would be killed or she would be wounded. The ''good stuff' would be shared among the police and army, the "second rate stuff' would go to everyone else. And then these girls would go from one hand to another and after several would tum up in hotels, or they would be handed over to police officers, in some places to please them. (ibid., 118) In the extensive contact that Kidwai had with refugees from the various regions of the Punjab, this was a common occurrence. Her testimony therefore highlights the numerous threats that women confronted during Partition. Kamlaben Patel, another social worker, elaborates on memories she had chosen not to share until Butalia sought her out, because of her refusal to believe human beings could commit such acts of violence (Butalia 2000, 105). Patel describes a broad range of atrocities committed against women unfortunate enough to be captured or abducted by men of the other community, including, but not limited to, mass rapes, physical mutilation, and tattooing of religious symbols from the other community (ibid.). Each of these testimonies detail the violence that followed the abductions during Partition, but how can these horrors be understood? What was the purpose of such violence? 
The testimonies do not offer concrete answers to these issues, but they do open up a discussion. A Hindu writer who had met several of these women explains violence as an intent to tarnish the honor of the religious community (ibid., 147): 
Tens of thousands of our pious mothers and sisters who would faint at the sight of blood were kidnapped and sold for many rupees. I have seen some of them recovered from the holy land. Their foreheads bore tattoo mark declaring them Muhammad's wife . .. 
It bristles with difficulties. That is obvious. But no less obvious is the 
fact that the problem is a challenge to our manhood, no less than to 
ournationalism. (ibid.) 
While this study acknowledges that the testimony of an individual does not represent the opinion of every Muslim and non-Muslim in the Punjab, the information in these oral accounts offers disturbing insights into the experience of violence during Partition. 
These oral histories help us to penetrate the human experience during Partition. While the testimonies are from a small sample of individuals and focus primarily on the experience of violence throughout the events of 1947, they expand the possibilities for future studies of Partition. The accounts of martyrdom, abduction and migration attest that the kinds of violence observed in Partition had their basis in social relations that predated the event, and were not solely the reaction of communities to political realities. For individuals involved in and affected by the violence of Partition, the issue may have been merely the exacerbated tensions that permeated society. Thus, Bir Bahadur Singh's recollection of his experiences in Rawalpindi before and during Partition clearly reveals his conviction that discrimination between the religious communities generated the violence during Partition. Remembering the interactions between neighbors and friends at dinners during his childhood, Singh puts forth: 
No one would ask, but on their own two, three people would bring us things. And they used to say very calmly, you don't eat things cooked by us, but sometimes the utensil they would bring . . . you see we used to drink milk from their houses, but the milk had to be in an unused utensil, a new one. But we never asked what difference it would have made if we had actually drunk out of the same cup. What would have happened? Ifwe had been willing to drink from the same cups, we would have remained united, we would not have had these differences, thousands of lives would not have been lost, and there would be no Partition. Our relations, our attitude should be the same towards Harijans, Sikhs, Muslims, anyone, we should not treat people differently. (ibid., 182-83) 
This excerpt suggests how a history from below can expand our understanding of the causes of such extreme cases of violence. Moreover, it shows that the everyday social relationships did affect the political environment during Partition. 
Without a doubt, oral testimonies from men and women who survived the ordeal of Partition in 1947 are invaluable to reconstructing and understanding the experience of violence during the creation of Pakistan. Regardless of the pitfall of subjectivity encountered when including oral testimonies in any analysis, such evidence highlights how the atrocities of this period symbolized significantly more than momentary brutality committed by any single community. As Gyanendra Pandey has pointed out, when investigating the history of any society, narratives expressing the experience of violence contribute to the process of reifying the community and asserting its boundaries (Pandey 2001, 4 ). Furthermore, David Gilmartin correctly argues that centralizing the tension that exists between multiple constructions of identity and the search for a moral community helps integrate the violence and politics that pervaded Partition to create a master narrative of the events during 1947 (Gilmartin 1998, 1069-70). However, a master narrative does not yet exist for the experience of violence during Partition, nor can emphasizing one category of sources over another approach one. But the creation of a single explanation for the experience of violence during Partition is not the impetus of the analysis in this study. This examination of how Partition was represented in both official sources and oral testimonies continues the attempt by historians to meld an understanding of the violence of Partition with the political narrative of Partition's causes, with the hope of contributing to the creation of an adequate master narrative for this seminal event in modem South Asian history (ibid., 1069). 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Brown. Judith. 1985. Modern India: Origins of an Asian Democracy. New York: Oxford University Press. Butalia. Urvashi. 2000. The Other Side ofSilence, Voices from the Partition ofIndia. Durham: Duke University Press. Chakarbarty. Dipesh. 2002. Habitations ofModernity: Essays in the Wake ofSubaltern Studies. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Chaudhri, Nazir Hussain. 1973. Chief Justice Muhammad Munir; His Life, Writings and Judgments. Lahore: Research Society of Pakistan. Davis, Kingsley. 1949. "India and Pakistan: TI1e Demography of Partition.'' Pacific Affairs 22(3). Gilmartin. David. 1998. "Partition. Pakistan, and South Asian History: In Search of a Narrative." The Journal ofAsian Studies 57(4). Jalal, Ayesha. 1985. The Sole Spokesman: Jinnah, the Muslim League, and the Demand for Pakistan. New York: Cambridge University Press. Mahajan. Mehr Chand. 1963. Looking Back: The Autobiography of Mehr Chand Mahajan, Former ChiefJustice ofIndia. London: Asia Publishing House. Menon, Ritu and Kamla Bhasin. 1998. Borders and Boundaries: Women in India 's Partition. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press. 
Moon. Penderel. Divide and Quit. 1962. Berkeley: University of California Press. 
Pandey, Gyanendra. 1999. Memo1y, History and the Question of Violence: Reflections 
on the Reconstructions ofPartition. Calcutta: K P Bagchi. ---. 2001. Remembering Partition: Violence, Nationalism and History in India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
Radcliffe. Cyril John. 1947. The Reports ofthe Bengal Boundary Commission and of the Punjab Boundary Commission. New Delhi: India Legislative Department. Roy, Asim. 1990. "The High Politics of India's Partition: The Revisionist Perspective." Modern Asian Studies 24(2). 
Sadullah, Mian Muhammad. ed. 1993. The Partition of the Punjab 1947: A 
Compilation ofOfficial Documents, Vol. I-JV. Lahore: Sang-e-Meel Publications. 
Singh. Darbara. 1982. Ten Eminent Sikhs. Amritsar: Literature House. 
Talbot, Ian. 1996. Freedom's Cry: The Popular Dimension in the Pakistan Movement and Partition Experience in North-West India. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 
Talbot. Ian and Gurharpal Singh. 1999. Region and Partition: Bengal, Punjab, and the Partition ofthe Subcontinent. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 


Pygmalion: Changes of Class and Culture1 
KRISTEN RUDISILL 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN 
George Bernard Shaw-critic, playwright, novelist, and screenplay writer of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries-has had a lasting influence on theater around the world. Shaw's plays, as well as his social ideas and theories of drama, have been incredibly popular in India, far from his native Ireland. Shaw's best-known work is his 1912 play Pygmalion, which was made into a film in 1938; Shaw won an Academy Award for the screenplay. In 1956 it was adapted into the musical My Fair Lady, which was also made into a film. Pygmalion has captured the imagination of the Indian people and has been translated and adapted into many Indian cultures and languages. P.L. Deshpande did a Marathi adaptation, Madhu Rye wrote Shantu Rangili, a Hindi musical based on Pygmalion and My Fair Lady, and the Gujarati version Pzmarani was one of longest running plays in Bombay history with several thousand shows (Contemporary 1989; Richmond 1990, 396). One of the best-loved Indian versions of Pygmalion, however, is Cho Ramasamy's 1964 Tamil play Manam oru Kurang11 (The Mind is a Monkey ), which was also made into a film. To the best of my knowledge, the only Indian adaptation of Shaw's play that has been translated into English is my own unpublished translation of Manuam oru Kurangu. This paper will discuss Ramasamy's adaptation in order to explore the elements of Shaw's philosophy and story that have most appealed to the Indian sensibility. 
Pygmalion: A Romance in Five Acts is the story of Henry Higgins, professor of phonetics, who accepted a challenge from his friend Colonel Pickering-the author of Spoken Sanserif and student of Indian dialects-to make good on his boast to pass off flower seller Eliza Doolittle as the "Queen of Sheba" (Shaw 1981, 525). He proposes to do this by teaching her proper English speech, grammar, and manners, and helping her to lose her low-class accent. Shaw had a great interest throughout his life in the New Alphabet, 
1 An earlier version of this paper was presented at the 2005 American Comparative Literature Association Annual Meeting. It was also nominated for the Horst Frenz Award. 
dedicating part of his estate to support its project of developing a phonetic alphabet. Due to the different pronunciations and spellings that are correct according to the English alphabet, Shaw realized that "no man can teach himself what it should sound like from reading it; and it is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making some other Englishman despise him" (Shaw 1981, 513). Henry Higgins could place a man within two miles in London just from hearing him speak. 
This background applies perfectly in Tamilnadu as well; although Tamil has a phonetic alphabet, people's vocabulary and pronunciation of the language varies based on region, class, and caste. It is easy to identify people by their speech, and the handicap of a low-class accent is just as stigmatizing in today's Tamilnadu as it was in Victorian England. 2 Ramasamy has adapted the character of Eliza Doolittle, flower seller, to Marudhayi, vegetable seller. In India flower sellers usually have their own comers where they set up a table and chair and quietly sell the beautiful scented chains of jasmine and other flowers that they string together from loose flowers, although some will sell from a basket. It is much more common to see a vegetable seller walking around with a basket and loudly advertising her wares, making this a closer match to the nature ofEliza's original job. 
In addition to speech, names are distinct markers of identity in India, and Marudhayi's name is particularly symbolic in this story. Sometimes Eliza is respectably called "Miss Doolittle" by Colonel Pickering and other gentlemen, but she is able to continually use the name "Eliza Doolittle" and be accepted as high or low-class. This is not the case in India, however, where most names will place a person in a certain socioeconomic class, religion, and region. Marudhayi's name changes first to Malathi, when she is pretending to be a London-educated doctor, and later to Mallika Devi, film star. These name changes symbolize Marudhayi's complete removal from the lives and identities she had lived before. Eliza experiences this break nearly as strongly, crying to Higgins once the experiment has succeeded, 
Oh! If only I could go back to my flower basket! I should be independent of both you and father and all the world! Why did you take my independence from me? Why did I give it up? I'm a slave now, for all my fine clothes ... (Shaw 1981, 595) 
2 Queen Victoria died in 1901; in 1912, when Shaw wrote Pygmalion, George V was on the throne. 
The difference, however, is that unlike Marudhayi, Eliza is able to maintain her ties with both of these past Jives, attending her father's wedding and eventually moving back into 27 A Wimpole Street with Higgins and Pickering. 
After hearing Higgins brag that he could train her in three months to speak well enough to get a place as a lady's maid or shop assistant, Eliza decides to take her earnings and approach him for lessons. Eliza is motivated by her career goal to sell flowers in a shop instead of on the street, although Higgins does suggest that she could get married. She had been thrown out of her father's house by her sixth stepmother and lived alone on her earnings for several years, and at the time of the story was eighteen to twenty years old. 
In Indian culture an unmarried girl of that age would never live alone. Marudhayi's parents are both dead, but she has been left in the care of her relative Murukesan, who travels to different villages doing agricultural work while she goes to Madras City to sell vegetables every day. Marudhayi and Murukesan are to be married eventually in a typical arranged marriage. The course of Marudhayi's whole life changed, however, when amateur play director Gopinath had a fight with his lead actress and decided to replace her with a real vegetable seller in that role. His young friend Chellappa, who is an adaptation of Shaw's Freddy, saw the play and fell in love with Marudhayi, until he heard her speak outside of the theater and realized her true identity. In response to Marudhayi's indignation and anger at his subjecting her to this humiliation, Gopi bragged that, "I can make him come to you, fall at your feet, and beg for marriage" (Ramasamy 1990, 23 ). What follows is one of the play's two direct references to Shaw:3 
Muru: What is this-a new game? 
Gopi: No, Murukesan-if you and Marudhayi agree I will show that 
it can be done like that. 
Muru: Will you get some idea like this? 
3The second reference comes on page 41 , after Marudhayi tells Gopi innocently that she knows 
Abraham Lincoln. The scene mns as follows: 
Gopi: What9 You know Abraham Lincoln? What, is he your uncle9 
Marn: Oh! I am sorry. 
Gopi: Someone at the party is going to mention Bernard Shaw. Are you going to have seen him 
yesterday? 
Marn: What did you say9 
Gopi: Nothing at all. Anything else! Abraham Lincoln! This girl .. 
Maru: Who is Abraham Lincoln9 
Gopi: This idea occurred not only to me-do you know Bernard 
Shaw-Bernard Shaw! 
Maru: Who is that Penaccha? 
Gopi: Penaccha! The junk shop owner Abdul Paccha' s younger brother! Stupid! Bernard Shaw is a great western scholar. This occurred to him. 
Muru: Having seen that, you are also saying it? 
Gopi : Are you saying that having seen that I am going to copy it?­No, not at all. The idea came to him first; that's all. Now it has come to me. He was born first; it came to him first. That's all! Ifwe change habits and manner of speech just a little, that's enough-people will see Marudhayi and think that she is very learned and a girl from a big place. 
Muru: What is all this for, sir-useless speech-if you talk this way 
four times-Marudhayi will be ready to try to do it. 
Maru: Why four times? What he has said now is enough. Let's try to 
do it. 
Muru: Marudhayi! What would we gain from this? Your brain has 
spoiled. (Ramasamy 1990, 23-4) 
Although Marudhayi very much wants to try the experiment, the 
arrangements must be made between her male guardian, Murukesan, and 
Gopi. Murukesan cares deeply for Marudhayi and sees more clearly than either 
her or Gopinath the potential outcome of the experiment; he is very reluctant 
to give his permission. This distinguishes him from Eliza's father, Mr. Alfred 
P. Doolittle, the character on whom he seems to be modeled. Doolittle is a drunk who is happy to sell off his daughter to Henry Higgins for five pounds to buy liquor with. Somewhat ironically, Doolittle, through his ''original morality" and a connection to American philanthropist Ezra D. Wannafeller, ends up moving into the upper classes along with, but separate from, his daughter. Murukesan, happy with his way of life and with innocent Marudhayi the vegetable seller, can neither go along with her on her rise through the classes, nor hold her back in poverty and labor with him. 
Both Ramasamy and Shaw reveal their socialistic tendencies in their dramatic treatment of these stories about women learning to be (or act) higher class. It is clear from both Shaw's and Ramasamy's plays that they believe class to be accidental, superficial. and subject to change. Their heroes are men who recognize the essential equality of all people, however poorly they may express it: 
Higgins: My manners are exactly the same as Colonel Pickering' s. 
Liza: That's not true. He treats a flower girl as if she was a duchess. 
Higgins: And I treat a duchess as if she was a flower girl. 
Liza: I see. The same to everybody. (Shaw 1981, 592) 
Shaw's lifelong socialist convictions are part of what has continued to attract Indians to his work and thought. 
Jawaharlal Nehru-Prime Minister of India from its independence in 1947 until his death in 1964-also held deep socialist convictions, the effects of which are still present in India's constitution and also linger in its the economic policies. The caste divide in India is much deeper and more difficult to overcome than a mere economic divide, and there is a complex system of reservations by which the underprivileged can access government jobs and university seats. It is possible to change status, but usually this entails raising the status of an entire caste within the hierarchy, rather than an individual removed from his community moving up or down the social scale (see Hardgrave 1969). 
Although Marudhayi reaches a higher position economically, her social position and relationship with the members of the middle-class (whom she sought to impress through the experiment) change very little. A flower-shop owner has a great deal more prestige than a girl who carries a basket and sells flowers on the street, but actresses in Tamilnadu have always been stigmatized. Women are supposed to be modest and avoid contact with men, but actresses are on stage and on display for male audiences. They are considered "public women" and unfit for association with "good" middle­class women, no matter how much money they earn (see Hansen 1992). The advent of cinema meant that more women were willing to act, since they did not have to do so in front of live audiences. It is true that some film actresses, like the current Chief Minister of Tamilnadu J. Jayalalitha, have gained wealth, fame, and power from the profession, but they are still isolated and removed from normal middle-class society. 
That the profession remains suspect is clear from The Mind is a Monkey. When she is deciding whether or not to accept Jagadish's offer to star in his films, Marudhayi says to Gopinath: 
IfI don't agree to this now, tell me what I will do with my life. Can I go to sell vegetables again? It doesn't seem to me that I can. Wrong or right, it appears to me that it is not suitable. IfI go for some other work I cannot read or write. You taught me how to move, except you didn't teach me to read. I can't go back to my old life, but there is no way to a new life: both ways of life are spoiled. (Ramasamy 1990, 56) 
When it is revealed in the newspapers that Malathi has agreed to be in films, Chellappa is still determined to marry "only her," even though his father Jambulingam says, "Bah! Will you marry a cinema star?" (ibid., 58) in response to his son's proposal. He mentions that if Chellappa were married to a cinema star he would not be able to take her anywhere in public. Jambulingam treats it all as a bad joke, commenting, '"Rather than listen to this, I could pull out my tongue and die" (ibid.). The point, of course, is moot, because the scene ends with Gopinath's arrival and his announcement that Mallika Devi has refused to marry Chellappa. At this point Jambulingarn removes all of his objections to the match and blesses all her present and future films. 
Pygmalion and Manam oru Kurangu are similar in that they contain social commentary on the hypocritical nature of middle-class society; in addition, the two plays are witty and incredibly funny. Ramasamy and Shaw have both earned the distinction of being most famous for being comedy and cultural criticism. Of Shaw, David Bearinger wrote, 
As a self-proclaimed "professor of natural psychology," he enjoyed nothing more than lifting up the pretentious skirts of polite society. He was a merciless critic of moral and intellectual hypocrisy, a joyous iconoclast, irreverent showman, and sometimes bitter cynic. (Bearinger 1981, xiv) 
Bearinger also says that Shaw used laughter to make audiences grasp and accept ideas they would normally reject (ibid., xv). He used his comedy to interest audiences in the social issues that he was so passionate about himself, such as '"the perils of money, of marriage, of doctors, of women's liberty . .. the perils of the English language .. . . " (Harrison 1981, x ). 
Cho Ramasamy's comedy works in much the same way as Shaw's. N.S. Jagannathan, in an interview with playwright G.P. Deshpande, credited Ramasamy's plays with actually having concrete social effects: "Now there are political plays of various kinds ... We also have, admittedly at the level of low farce, plays in Tamil by Cho Ramaswami that are extraordinarily effective in the exposure of the corruption of values in Indian politics" (Contemporary 1989, 107). Low farce or not, Ramasamy is one of the few Tamil playwrights to be mentioned along with the playwrights of a modem Indian theater movement that has been concentrated in Bengali. Kannada, Marathi, and Hindi. He is active politically and has written numerous essays of political criticism; he is also the editor and founder of the political journal Tughlaq, and has recently retired as a member of the Rajya Sabha.4 
Both Ramasamy and Shaw include scenes in their plays that make fun of the middle-class in particular, and especially those who are insecure of their own precarious social positions. At Mrs. Higgins's at-home, Eliza, although earlier restricted by Professor Higgins to two subjects: "the weather and everybody's health" (Shaw 1981, 556), managed to speak of such inappropriate things as an aunt who was possibly murdered for her hat and her father's drinking habit. She then ended her visit spectacularly by swearing "with elegant diction," in response to a perfectly innocent question from Freddy, "[n]ot bloody likely" (ibid., 561). Although the other guests were shocked, they worked hard not to show it, because they believed wholeheartedly that Eliza was speaking the "new small talk" in which they would never admit to not being proficient for fear of being seen as "old­fashioned." 
Instead of having a practice run for the test party as in Shaw's play, Ramasamy condensed the two scenes into a single garden party that Gopinath hosted to introduce his friend Malathi, M.D., recently returned from London, to the best of Chennai society. The guest list included Chellappa and his father, a magazine editor, a film producer/director, a painter, a politician, and a doctor, among others. Doctor Sandar, who went to medical school in London nearly twenty years earlier, echoes the character Nepommuck from Shaw's play as the expert most likely to expose the charade. In earlier scenes, just as Higgins did, Gopinath has coached Marudhayi on some English phrases that she should restrict herself to, as well as several topics that are necessary for the "modem girl." Gopinath explained the situation in middle­class India to her when she expressed her reservations about the party based on not being able to speak English: 
4 This is the Upper House of the Indian Parliament, somewhat equivalent to the British House of Lords. 
Gopi: How many modem girls can speak English to a person without mistakes? If you know four words in English, that is enough-only four words! You can manage if you can remember them when moving around high-class people. 
Maru: Four words? 
Gopi: Yes: Thank you; I am sorry; How nice; How lovely. 
Maru: Is that all? 
Gopi: But one more thing you need to remember: before saying all these words, you need to make the sound, "Oh!" Modem girls' knowledge of English is only this much. Oh! Thank you! ; Oh! I am sorry!; Oh! How nice!; Oh! How lovely!-That's all. 
Maru: What if I suddenly forget all four? 
Gopi: Not to fear! "Oh!" by itself is enough-if you go to a party that's all you need to know! Half the time these women will just shout, "Oh! Oh! " In truth, you don't need even that. Whatever they say, you just need to smile, and that is enough. A modem girl! It is enough to show your teeth. In this society, many high-class people will show their teeth. 
Maru: I don't understand anything. (Ramasamy 2000, 30) 
He later adds another phrase to the list: ''It was boring." In addition, she learns to drink her coffee very slowly, to look bored, to say she prefers English movies to Tamil ones, and to always claim to be on a diet. As for important conversation topics: ''You need to memorize and tell instantly the names of Hollywood stars. Second, you need to know all the names of the dog breeds in two countries" (ibid., 40). She manages brilliantly at the party, fools everyone, and Chellappa falls in love with her again, this time as the sophisticated and cosmopolitan Dr. Malathi. 
Doctor Sandar, however, is not fooled as Nepommuck is in Shaw's play. Nepommuck, allegedly a former student of Henry Higgins, fell for the scheme entirely and proclaimed Eliza to be of Hungarian royal blood just as he himself claimed to be, even after Professor Higgins told him that he believed her to be "an ordinary London girl out of the gutter and taught to speak by an expert. I place her in Drury Lane" (Shaw 1981, 570). Instead of directly confronting the doctor in this way, Gopinath spent a good deal of the party maneuvering to keep him from speaking to Malathi, especially about medicine. He made up an elaborate story about a little girl that Malathi had failed to save with a complicated operation, causing her to give up the medical profession for good and avoid speaking of it at all costs. After several minutes of this, the doctor decided to leave the party, having offered no opinion on Malathi or her medical knowledge. It is Chellappa that Gopinath confronted directly, teasing him about his new love by saying, "Doesn't she look a little bit like that vegetable vendor, Marudhayi?" (Ramasamy 2000, 50). 
Ramasamy's play diverges most drastically from Pygmalion in its ending. Shaw's play is written as a play to be read, not performed. There are numerous passages of explanation and exposition where it seems that a narrator should be speaking, and that it would be very difficult to portray all that he describes without one. The play technically ends with Eliza saying goodbye to Higgins from his mother's house and Higgins saying to Pickering, "Pickering! Nonsense: she's going to marry Freddy. Ha ha! Freddy! Freddy!! Ha ha ha ha ha!!!!! [He roars with laughter as the play ends]" (Shaw 1981, 598). 
The play may end there, but the story certainly does not. There are another ten pages of prose that follow, which Shaw says "need not be shewn in action" (ibid.). In these pages, Shaw finishes the story and explains the choices of his characters. Eliza does marry Freddy, and they move back in with Higgins and Pickering. Eventually Pickering loans them money to open a flower shop, which later expands into a greengrocery. Higgins remains a bachelor, quite unlike in the My Fair Lady version of the story, which implies that Higgins and Eliza will later marry. Gopinath is as confirmed a bachelor as Shaw's Higgins and fully intended that even after spending these three months studying with him that Marudhayi would still be Marudhayi and marry Murukesan as she had originally planned. Gopinath, however, astonished himself by falling in love with his own creation and asked Mallika to marry him. Marudhayi, although pleased by her marriage proposals from both Chellappa and Gopinath, visible signs that she had truly succeeded in her goals, still wanted to marry Murukesan. The divide between them, however, had become too wide. She offered to give up her wealth and life as a cinema actress and go back to selling vegetables only to have him say: 
Muru: Ifyou want to do that type of thing, then put on a costume like that and act it in the cinema as an actress. The people will enjoy it. But in real life that won't happen. Having left and rejected all this completely, you can't come back. If you are determined and come that way, you will come to hate me! You will think that I have 
spoiled your life! 
Maru: Then what are you saying? Are you going to leave me this 
way to be an orphan? Isn't this Marudhayi your responsibility? 
Muru: My Marudhayi is dead! Life without her is hell for me. Somehow I have passed the time thinking of her. Here I see only Mallika Devi. Ever since I came how much have I been trying? I have been trying so much to call "Marudhayi" one time. But I can't see my Marudhayi in you. As far as I am concerned, you are only Mallika to me. I don't know whether or not it is right for this Murukesan to marry Mallika Devi. But he definitely doesn't want to. Mallika, goodbye. Mallika Devi! I am leaving. (Murukesan goes.) (Ramasamy 1990, 81) 
Marudhayi then accuses Gopinath of playing with her life as if she were a doll or a toy, just as Mrs. Higgins accused Henry and Colonel Pickering of playing with Eliza's. She begs him to change her back, just as Eliza begged Higgins, but 
Gopi: No one could still do that. Marudhayi's childlike quality did not come through teaching. It came with birth. Ifit is lost, it cannot be recovered. Innocence is something in-born. It cannot be taught. 
Maru: Please tell me, Gopi, ifl am still only Mallika Devi! Can't I 
become Marudhayi? 
Gopi: You can't, Mallika! If needed, Marudhayi could change into Mallika. Now, in truth, everything that is Mallika Devi was once Marudhayi. But Mallika Devi is incapable of changing into Marudhayi. (He is going outside. Then he turns.) I am sorry, Mallika. (He is going out. Then the telephone rings.) 
Mall: (crying, she picks up the telephone) Yes! It's me .. . yes; Mallika speaking .. . yes; it's Mallika only! Yes! I only am Mallika Devi. (She is crying.) (ibid., 82) 
The play ends on this note of despair. Marudhayi, Murukesan, and Gopinath 
all remain unmarried, but Chellappa, at least, has found his match in the 
equally fickle Hemalatha. 
Cho Ramasamy has taken George Bernard Shaw's classic story and brilliantly adapted it to the Indian situation. As Shaw himself recognized in his criticism of the ''well-made play," no matter how well-developed your formula, comedy is difficult "because it requires a sense of humor and a good deal of vivacity" (Dukore 1974, 637). Shaw's jokes about the English language and the social situation of England's middle class would not seem funny in an entirely different cultural context. Ramasamy's genius is to take the basic story and its humor, and adapt it to the social situation his audience is familiar with. The two plays echo each other not only in the stories that they tell, but also in their socialist messages and realistic style of conversation. In an intriguing but unexplored passage, Arundhati Banerjee commented that theater critic Dipendu Chakraborty "thinks that despite quite a few Ibsen productions on the Bengali stage, original Bengali play writing has taken up the Shavian style-if any western style at all-rather than the lbsenian" (Banerjee 1996, 64). Shaw was a great fan of Ibsen and one of his primary critics. He wrote several essays on Ibsen's work and believed his true genius to lie in the art of discussion. Shaw has very little patience with mere topical farce or simple fables with morals, but believes very strongly that "interesting" plays must discuss problems relevant to the lives of the members of the audience. Ramasamy's play takes Shaw's as a springboard for ideas and transforms it into an original. culturally accurate and relevant portrayal of the Madras middle class through witty, humorous discussions. Manam ont Kurangu is a play that is all that George Bernard Shaw most valued and admired about the dramatic form and is a fitting continuation of Shaw's much beloved story. 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Banerjee, Arundhati. 1996. "Ibsen and the Bengali Theatre." Seagull Theatre Quarter~v 10 (June): 51-67. Bearinger, David. 1981. "'Shaw and His Plays." Jn Bernard Shaw: Selected Plays, xiv­
xxvii. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company. 
Contemporary Indian Theatre: Intervieivs with Playivrights and Directors. 1989. For the Festival of Contemporary Theatre September 3-17, 1989 for Nehru's Birth Centenary. New Delhi: Sangeet Natak Akademi. 
Dukore. Bernard F. 1974. Dramatic Theory and Criticism: Greeks to Grotowski. Australia: Heinle and Heinle. Hansen, Kathryn. 1992. Grounds for Play: the Nautanki Theatre of North India. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hardgrave. Robert L., Jr. 1969. The Nadars ofTamilnad: The Political Culture ofa Community in Change. Berkeley: University of California Press. Harrison, Rex. 1981. "Preface.'' Jn Bernard Shaw: Selected Plays, ix-xiii. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company. 
Ranrnsamy, Cho. 2000. Manam oru Kurangu. Chennai: Alliance. 
---. 2002. The Mind is a Monkey. Translated and with an Introduction by Kristen Rudisill. Unpublished manuscript. Richmond, Farley P., Darius L. Swann, and Phillip B. Zarrilli, eds. 1990. Indian Theatre and Traditions ofPe1formance. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Shaw, George Bernard. 1974. "Preface to Three Plays by Brieux." In Dramatic Theory and Criticism: Greeks to Grotoivski, edited by Bernard F. Dukore. Australia: Heinle and Heinle. 
---. 1981. ''Pygmalion: A Romance in Five Acts." In Bernard Shaw: Selected Plays, 513-609. New York: Dodd, Mead and Company. 

The Role of Gender in Conflict: 
Bombay Communal Riots of 1992-1993 

JYOTHSNA BUDDHARAJU 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN 

The 1992-1993 communal riots in Bombay left a distinct mark on Indian society. Despite nearly sixty years of secular rule, divisions along religious lines in India still hold strong. An interesting phenomenon that emerged from these riots is the participation of women. Traditionally, Indian women have played a limited role in wars and physical conflicts; Bombay's riots, however, saw an active participation of women in protecting the "Motherland" from the "brutish" Muslims who have incessantly plagued Indian (Hindu) society. This phenomenon has seen a heightened emphasis on religious divisions to satiate other inadequacies present in Indian society. In this paper I examine two aspects of the role of women in these conflicts: imagery and participation. I focus on the imagery of females as pure, fragile beings that need protection, and also the role of men in this process. Turning to the matter of participation, I determine whether women played an active role in the communal riots, and if so, the nature of their participation, as well as their motivations. 
Feminist historiography implies looking at history through the lens of gender to study the way in which history is written. Without making women the sole subject of my analysis, I look at the engendered hegemonic discourse present in the Hindu Right that has been imposed upon men and women. I posit that the Hindu Right-specifically the Shiv Sena-has used gender to emphasize the role of Hindu men in protecting Hindu women, and the role of Hindu women in supporting their men under all circumstances, whether in accepting rigid social rules or in supporting Hindu men in times of conflict. The present form of revivalism follows patterns seen during the nationalist period when the recovery of tradition was likewise a recovery of the so-called traditional woman. Aspects of the traditional woman are highlighted to reflect the changing needs of the present (Sangari and Vaid 1990, 10-12). As Sangari and Vaid suggest. segments of the scriptural texts and canons are universalized to reflect right-wing hegemonic discourse. Everyone outside this realm is made "the other." This convenient reading of Hinduism helps reinforce existing inequalities in the system and gives them credence. I suggest this process is again at work in present-day Hindu revivalism, and an overwhelming patriarchy is present in this rhetoric even though it was not articulated at the outset. 
COLONIAL MASCULINITY IN INDIA 
The riots in Bombay were a result of communal tension in the city following the Babri Masjid demolition on 6 December 1992 by Hindu militants from right-wing Hindu groups, including the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Shiv Sena. The Bombay riots had two phases: the first phase was the immediate backlash led by Muslims against Hindus; the second phase was mostly led by Hindus in reaction to the death of four Hindu Mathadi Kamdar (unorganized laborers) who were allegedly killed by Muslims. The Hindu backlash led to many more casualties, and the eventual death toll was approximately two thousand. In addition, there was significant property damage and migration of residents out of the city or to areas in Bombay where their co-religionists were in the majority. 
The Sri Krishna Commission was convened to investigate the cause of the riots. The commission was disbanded by the Shiv Sena-Jed government in January 1996, but was later reconstituted in May 1996 due to public opposition. The Commission Report produced in 1998 determined that Shiv Sena's leaders, such as Bal Thackeray, incited their supporters to violence. Ultimately, the report found that the riots were largely motivated by politics rather than inherent religious divides. 
The need for a different kind of credibility sets the historical narrative apart from fiction. This need is both contingent and necessary. It is contingent inasmuch as some narratives go back and forth over the line between fiction and history, while others occupy an undefined position that seems to deny the very existence of a line. It is necessary inasmuch as, at some point, historically specific groups of humans must decide if a particular narrative belongs to history or to fiction. In other words, the epistemological break between history and fiction is always expressed concretely through the historically situated evaluation of specific narratives. (Trouillot 1995, 8) 
This passage, from historian Michel-Rolph Trouillot's Silencing the Past, describes the construction of historical narrative. In a similar manner, the Hindu Right constructs its version of history by constructing a narrative using a selection of facts based on their inherent biases against Muslims and other minorities. This project is not a recent phenomenon; rather, it has been in the works since the colonial period. 
Colonialists, by using language such as the "effeminate Bengali babu," distinguished Western-educated Indian elite, mostly Hindu, from other so­called manly races, such as Europeans. According to the British, the effeminate nature of Hindus made them easier to colonize (Sinha 1995, 2). The emasculation ofHindu men was apparent from the colonial period, during which the colonial ordering of the politically aware Bengali babu designated them to an unnatural or perverted form of masculinity (ibid., 5). In her discussion of the Ilbert Bill of 1883-1884, Sinha asserts that colonial economic, political, and administrative strengths were put aside for a direct correlation between the racial exclusivity of "manly" over "unmanly" men. This distinction was drawn because colonial manhood was calculated in terms of property, which was lost to the colozined (ibid., 17). 
The impotence of the Hindu male extended to other areas, such as economic prowess, political hegemony, and social progress. In the eyes of the British, the Hindu male lagged behind in these three areas due to their effeminacy and impotence. The male Hindu elite never fully recovered from this humiliation, and the colonial denigration of the elite Hindu male later became the motivation for the Hindu Right's move to reassert the potency of the Hindu male. 
THE FEMININE IN HINDU RIGHT'S RHETORIC 
Just as colonial discourse led to the emasculation of the Indian Hindu male, Hindu women were also forced into colonial parameters of female emancipation. As Partha Chatterjee notes, Hindu women were subjugated under the patriarchies of both colonialism and nationalism. 
Women from the new middle class in nineteenth-century India thus became active agents in the nationalist project-complicit in the framing of its hegemonic strategies as much as they were resistant to them because of their subordination under the new forms of patriarchy. (Chatterjee 1993, 148) 
I suggest that not much has changed since the nationalist period. At that time, women were subject to the patriarchy in their confinement within the private sphere where they were responsible for the stability of the household. Similarly, the present BJP coalition glorifies Hindu women by referring to their fellow members as sisters, rather than wives of party affiliates. The negative counterpart to this model of Hindu women are so-called modem, feminist, westernized Hindu women who are too self-absorbed to take care of their families. The Hindu woman is portrayed as chaste and nurturing, but with no reference to sexuality. She is to be protected from the harmful world outside the home. 
As Rashmi Verma notes in her article on the provincializing of Bombay, nostalgia is more the active production of the present than the production of the past (Varma 2004, 82-83). In Anand Patwardhan's documentary film, Father, Son, and the Holy War, celebrations commemorating the Maratha King Shivaji's success against Muslim armies are coupled with scenes of actress Mandaki bathing herself ( 1994 ). Legend has it that before the Muslim invasions, Shivaji's aunt bathed openly without fear. Muslims changed the way of life for Hindu women who were no longer at liberty to lead the innocent and carefree lives they once led. Instead, they had to remain within the confines of a patriarchy that would protect their safety and interest. In such legends, women are portrayed as needing the protection of men, and treated like mere property. The deliberate omission of Hindu female sexuality from this narrative project forces it to be imposed on ''the other" as well, namely, Muslim women (ibid.). It is crucial to distance the enemy from Hindu women. Just as the nationalist project reconstituted the patriarchy to ensure the constrained participation of women in the nationalist movement, the Hindu Right too refashions its patriarchy to legitimize the participation of women within the parameters of their narrative. 
CREATING "THE OTHER" 
Security is the pretext used to engage in preemptive violence, killing in the name of protection (Anand 2005, 203). The main premise of the Hindu Right, the Sangh Parivar Hindutva, is that because Hindus are in the majority, their rights have to be protected, rather than subverted in an effort to appease minorities. Hindutva ideology asserts that there is a basic inevitability for Hindu-Muslim violence in India, because these peoples are so distinct from each other (ibid., 205). I agree with Dibyesh Anand that the 1993 communal riots were largely the result of creating distinct communities through mobilization, purification, and definition of "self' (Hindu) and ''the other" (Muslim). Collapsing all heterogeneity into two categories-Hindu and Muslim-forces people to look through the lens of religion only. Patwardhan, in Father, Son and Holy War, finds that Muslim women in Bombay who identified their common interests with Hindu women before the 1993 riots, felt that during the violence they were marked by their being Muslim, while their identities as women became irrelevant. 
The creation of distinct Hindu and Muslim identities has recent origins; it is the postcolonial result of the nationalist project. Prior to independence, the tenn Hindu was used to describe all religions evolving from the Indian subcontinent, including Sikhism, Jainism, and Buddhism, despite their distinct histories, beliefs, and socio-cultural practices (Burlet 1999, 41-42). This all­encompassing definition of Hinduism took on political meaning during the nationalist period, working to the favor of political activists like Gandhi who used the term to unify people practicing various religious and socio-cultural traditions, and linking the majority of Indians during their struggle for national independence. But the connection between religious identities and political affiliations also led to the solidification of boundaries between Hindus and Muslims, and the partition of India and Pakistan can be attributed to divisions created by political leaders, rather than basic religious differences. 
Although the Indian government adopted the ideology of secularism, the Hindu Right has argued that successive governments have cynically misused the policy of secularism to gather votes and secure power bases among minority groupings. This misuse has led to corruption and violence, and has plunged Indian society and its economy into deep crises (ibid.). 
REPRESENTATIONS OF MUSLIMS 
Muslim boys, even married ones, try to have friendships with Hindu girls. I tell you, most Muslim boys are very good looking, and Hindu girls are very innocent-once they give you their heart, its easily broken ... I personally feel they ' re spoiling the lives of these Hindu girls. Our blood gets hot. We can't stand them . .. . It's time that the Hindu girls fight violence with violence. -Hindu professional, non­participant (Cohn 2003) 
The representation of Muslims had a significant impact on the events leading up to the 1993 riots. Right-wing groups are primarily concerned with the production of an ideal Hindu male identity built around the Hindu male who has shrugged off all other identity models. Their immediate negative counterpart is the so-called unconscious Hindu male, westernized and effeminate, lacking in material wealth and disrespectful of women (Bacchetta 1994, 192-194). The Muslim male easily fits into this alternative category. The Hindu Right depicts Muslim males as the eternal enemies of the Hindu community. It divides them into two categories: foreign invaders and ex­Hindu converts (ibid., 193). It portrays the former as partially responsible for the downfall of the Hindu nation, and their descendants as the contemporary middle-class leaders of Muslim fundamentalist groups. 
According to Bachetta, ex-Hindu Muslim converts are supposedly the invaders' lower class allies, who converted due to coercion or for material gain. They were the weakest of the Hindu stock and traitors to the Hindu Nation. Regardless, the Hindu Right considers all Muslim males to harbor anti-national sentiments, while also disrespecting and violating femininity. The Hindu Right degrades sexuality and disaggregates sexual signifiers from its ideal models for Hindus, but does not expel them from the discourse altogether. Instead it projects sexuality onto "the other" (ibid. , 193-94) Thus, the opposite of the chaste Hindu male is the Muslim male polygamist or rapist, while that of the chaste, motherly Hindu woman is the Muslim prostitute or potential wife. 
The stereotype of the male Muslim is posed as a danger to the body of the Hindu woman and, through her, the purity of the Hindu nation. Simultaneously, he is seen as a threat to state, national, and international security. These representations of Muslims as a danger to the security of the Hindu body politic facilitates the politics of hate against Indian Muslims (Anand 2005, 207-8). Muslims are presented as a threat at the personal, local, national, and international levels, as well as sites of fear, distrust, anger, envy, and hatred; they therefore generate desires for emulation, abjection, and extermination (ibid., 208). 
Dibyesh Anand suggests that in the politics of Hindutva the construction of a desired masculinity (ideal Hindu male, virile yet with controlled sexuality) requires the demonizing or destruction of competing masculinities and men. As V.D. Savarkar, one of the premier leaders of Hindutva, asserts, the aim of Hindu nationalism is to recuperate manliness and bring militancy to religion while bringing religion to the political forefront (ibid., 207). Evidence of this is seen in Father, Son and Holy War, in which Shivaji, rather than Gandhi, is proclaimed as the symbol of Hindu manhood. He is used as a symbol for purging the Hindu nation of debilitating non-violence which has crippled India with Muslims, who are denigrated as "foreshortened" men. Using Shivaji as a symbol to band Hindus together as a brave and united group, followers of the Hindu Right try to destroy the image of Hindus as weak, cowardly, and effeminate people. Hindutva ideology creates a myth of Muslims as being morally corrupt, barbaric, violent, rigid, backward, dirty, and fanatic (ibid., 205). To support this rhetoric, Hindus present evidence from the Prophet's sex life, licentious Arabs buying young girls and boys, men with four wives, Muslim prostitutes, the lack of democracy in the Muslim world, thus arguing that Islam and Muslims are violent and barbaric. 
According to Burlet, reasons for the growth of the Hindu Right include their use of extra-constitutional tactics, such as paying criminals to initiate riots in order to secure votes. Also, law and order mechanisms remain reticent in ending or condemning violence perpetrated against minority groups, because of corruption or blatant support for one group or the other (Burlet 1999, 40­41). The above-mentioned conditions, however, have existed in fudia prior to the prominence of the Right in fudian politics. fustead, I believe that it was the Shah Bano case that became the trigger for greater participation in fundamentalist politics. 
Shah Bano, a 62-year old Muslim woman with five children, was divorced by her husband in 1978. The Muslim personal code, shariah, allows the husband to do this without his wife's consent by repeating the word, talaaq (divorce), before witnesses, three times. Upon her divorce, Shah Bano approached the court to request maintenance, similar to alimony, under civil law. The Supreme Court ruled in her favor and granted Shah Bano adequate maintenance. Orthodox Muslims felt threatened by the government's encroachment onto the territory of shariah law. The Legislature, then run by the moderate Congress Party, nullified the Supreme Court decision and upheld shariah law which allows Muslim men to maintain their divorced wives until the conclusion of the iddat, or waiting period (usually three months). With the passage of the Muslim Women Act in 1986, the maintenance of divorced Muslim women fell upon their natal homes. Critics suggest that this act was passed to appease minority opposition and safeguard the Muslim vote bank, in reaction to minority opposition to the Supreme Court decision. 
In Father, Son and Holy War, interviewees claim that the Shah Bano case made Hindus impotent, and argue that minorities were being given far more rights than the majority. fu actuality, the case became the medium through which Hindu and Muslim fundamentalists exerted their authority. The nullification of the Supreme Court's decision raised the concern that fundamentalist minorities could exert pressure on government and judicial decisions. As Lata Mani argues, communalism is inextricably linked to the colonialist project (Mani 1999, 119-21). While Muslim fundamentalists argue that the Supreme Court is meddling in the traditional, private sphere of Muslims, Hindu fundamentalists argue that Muslims have to be civilized, thus taking on the role of the colonialist lamenting the fate of Muslim women and wanting to modernize them. 
The Shah Bano case served to legitimize the Hindu Right's position by presenting it as the representative voice of the national consensus against Muslim personal law. By including a diversity of arguments into its rhetoric, the Hindu Right homogenizes the Right's ideological perspective for the reader (Bacchetta 1994, 208-11 ). Literature from the right-wing Hindu group, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) reads: 
Even those who were silent on the Muslim communal problem have come out openly against it. As such a collection of such campaign views in the background of communal and divisive Muslim campaign would be a valuable food (sic) for intellectual grasp of the problem. Hence this attempt. (ibid., 211) 
This attempt by the RSS to reach out to the public did not entail fighting for women's rights; rather, it became a battle of religion and politics. The Right increasingly found itself fighting alongside mainstream media and feminists, albeit with different reasons than these groups, while working in tandem with the moderate Congress Party, thus bringing the Right's voice to the political forefront throughout the late 1980s and 1990s. 
In the 1980s, the Indian government television stations started serializing Hindu epics such as the Ramayana and Mahabharata, which are given scriptural reverence. When the economic crisis deepened and separatist movements proliferated, the government increasingly resorted to using well­wom nationalist strategies to forge a sense of unity. Communalized nationalism had given Hindu nationalist groups legitimacy; in the post­independence period, the attempts to develop Hinduism as a catalyst for a Hindu nation coincided with the uncertainties of capital growth, thus creating fertile ground for Hindu nationalism (Mazumdar 1995, 6). 
INVOL YING WOMEN IN THE FRAY 
The Hind11tva project is essentially a nationalist project, which allows women specific roles and responsibilities. Shaping views of sexuality is one of the cornerstones of the fundamentalist project, and is vital to portraying the enemy as "the other." The assertion of patriarchal dominance is an important element in the fundamentalist project. The project helps refashion patriarchies to legitimize the participation of women in the nationalist project while superficially empowering women to attract female followers (Srinivasan 2004, 135-36). 
The participation of women in the Hindutva project is basically a holdover from participation in the nationalist project; the main difference is the manner in which this participation is taking place. During the nationalist period most women restricted their participation to boycotts, such as those in the Swadeshi movement, and to peaceful protests against the colonialists. The Bombay riots of 1993 saw significant participation of women in the militant actions of the Hindutva movement (Bannerjee 1996, 1213). I argue that women's participation in the riots was exaggerated to some extent, and the demographics of the female participants in the riots differed significantly from the women of the nationalist period. The Hindutva movement was interested less in the rights of women than in the prevalence of Hindu patriarchal hegemony. This hegemony created a comfort zone for women, giving them protection and community support after the mechanisms of Jaw and order had failed them. At the same time, accepting Hindutva demands loyalty to its ideology, and disenfranchised women are easy targets for the Hindutva. Women from all walks of life did not participate in the riots; rather, female participation was dependant on a number of factors including class, caste, education, and economic status. 
The opening scenes of Father, Son, and Holy War show burning cars and charred bodies. When questioned about who is responsible for these acts, interviewees admit that working-class Hindus were responsible for the looting. "The low castes looted and the high castes bought." Although the Shiv Sena professes to bring together Hindus under an umbrella organization. differences across caste and economic status still exist. Despite the Shiv Sena's efforts, participation in the violence during the Bombay riots correlated to class rather than gender. 
Feminist scholar Anne McClintock has argued that women's militancy is only possible when men allow it to take place purposefully. In other words, the patriarchal hegemony over women's militancy still exists. 
Where for Fanon does women's agency begin? He takes pains to point out that women's militancy does not precede the national revolution. Algerian women are not self-motivating agents, nor do they have prior histories or consciousness of the revolt from which to draw. Their initiation in the revolution is learned, but it is not learned from other women or from other societies, nor is it transferred analogously from local feminist spontaneity, for women learn their militancy only at men's invitation. Theirs is a designated agency-an agency by invitation only. (McClintock 1997, 97-98) 
Women's rights and control over their own body and sexuality are intrinsic to the rightwing project because it does not consider women to be autonomous beings, but the property of individual men and the community. 
The process of male appropriation of female bodies and sexuality is gradual and begins with the violation of women's rights (Bannerjee 1996, 1215-21). Regardless of reproductive rights, sexual rights, and economic participation rights, the Right has always held that women have to give up their autonomy in the interest of the community (ibid.). This gradual process begins with dress codes, the valorization of family and patriarchal controls, and the regulation of marriage alliances. By setting stringent standards, the Right demarcates between ·'them" and ''us." In the case of the Hindutva movement, feminist organizations have failed to capture the support of women, while right-wing movements have taken up all issues central to women's interests, from personal laws to economic empowerment, and have produced an ideology of empowerment subject to patriarchal protection. 
Violence perpetrated by women is uncommon in India. Although certain Hindu goddesses, such as Kali, engage in aggression, even these traditions do not condone violence against others. Instead, reports of female involvement in violence have always emphasized the peacemaking role of women, such as the nurturing mother (ibid., 1223). 
But the riots of 1993 saw Hindu women play a highly visible role. Women led mobs and dragged Muslim women and children into the streets, applauded their gang rapes, and joined men in stoning and burning Muslim women (Mazumdar 1995, 2). Although the above incidents may be isolated incidents, anthropologist Atreyee Sen' s article on Mumbai slums and urban violence corroborate with the Mazumdar's analysis ofright-wing mobilization in India. Low-income, working class women who allied themselves with the Shiv Sena were the main female perpetrators of the violence of 1993 (Sen 2004). The Mahi/a Aghadi (women's organization), Shiv Sena's women's wing, transformed themselves from a behind-the-scenes, subservient support group, to a militant, partially autonomous women's task force. Shiv Sena women engaged in various forms of collective violence in the name of delivering social justice. They thrashed eve-teasers (men who harass women) and rapists, chided men who abandoned their wives, and forced businesses to employ poor women. In this way, they became the representative voice of women who could not tum to the established forms of law and order for protection or restitution. To these disenfranchised slum-dwellers, group violence, as practiced by Mahi/a Aghadi, was a means for securing women's honor, mobility, and productivity in the Mumbai slums (ibid.). For Shiv Sena women, collective violence and vigilante justice was necessary for the survival of underprivileged women living in the city. Although female militancy gave these women protection, it could only be legitimized to the public under the guise of religion. Rather than any innate interest in aligning 
with the religious Right, women's support for Hindutva is due to their search for basic protection. 
WOMEN'S ACCEPTANCE OF HINDUTVA 
Female involvement in the Hindutva movement began in the 1960s when the BJP and coalition members led a protest for a constitutional ban on cow slaughter. Today, female involvement numbers in the thousands, and the Bharatiya Mahila Morcha, the women's wing of the BJP, has full time cadres working for the party to help solicit more votes. The Mahi/a Mandals (women's associations) try to gather more recruits and the Durga Vahini, an all-female mass paramilitary organization, is reaching out to volunteers (Mazumdar 1995, 3-5). Women involved in these groups are from all sectors and economic backgrounds, but physical violence has tended to be committed by poor, disenfranchised women. As alluded to earlier, the Right includes women in its movement by engaging in topics central to female empowerment, and by giving them a sense of community and protection that feminist organizations cannot provide. 
Although Indian women of all social strata have been affected by the nationalists' strategy of tapping the women's electoral base, not all have chosen to participate in the violence. By holding women's prayer meetings, celebrating religious imagery in which female power is portrayed as the source of India's greatness, and promoting female politicians, the ultra­nationalists have gained strong support from women who were not in agreement with the feminist approach to emancipation. These women recognized their chance to rise up the chain of command, with leaders such as Uma Bharati coming to the forefront of the party. 
The interpretation of female participation, nevertheless, assumes a lack of forethought on the part of the women, given the fact that the patriarchal implications of the Shiv Sena's ideology still holds strong. The ideology presented in Father, Son and Holy War shows that subconsciously the patriarchy still persists. In the film Uma Bharati incites followers to go forth against the Muslims, and when asked to provide bullets to shoot them, she retorts, "Why do you waste bullets on eunuchs?" Although she represents females in such organizations, her presence and speech is always in relation to men. As Mazumdar notes, motherhood and the importance of the mother raising brave and heroic sons takes precedence over the rights of women. Teaching the children the right prayers, taking them to participate in the Right's ceremonies and teaching them about Hindutva is the primary responsibility of female followers (ibid., 18-20). The roles of wives and mothers never come in conflict with the roles denoted by feminist organizations which are disparaged as westernized and modem. 
Support for the Hindutva movement cannot be explained by ideology alone, however; it is a matter of economic incentives as well. The Shiv Sena draws on icons of religion that speak to men and women in different ways. Take, for example, the Shiv Sena's tiger symbol (Bannerjee 1996, 1217-21). For Shiv Sena women, it may represent feminine power because the tiger is associated with the goddess, Bhavani, Shivaji's patron goddess. For Shiv Sena men, on the other hand, it becomes a symbol of militant Hinduism because the symbol represents strength and aggression. 
On an economic level, the Shiv Sena has disseminated incentives through an extensive local network. The Sena's combination of appeals and benefits has been successful because the economic and political patterns in Mumbai provide a context in which the Sena's mobilization tactics become attractive to the ordinary Hindu slum-dweller (ibid. 1220-22). Within Thane, a Bombay locality, a progressive ''dada-ization" (dada is a colloquial term for a gangster or mafia boss) took place from the 1970s to the 1990s. During this time a crisis of govemability and the de-industrialization of Bombay led to residents' economic and political frustration, which was easily exploited by the Shiv Sena. The first generation of leaders were businessmen, who provided jobs for their local constituencies during the rapid urbanization of Bombay during this period (Hansen 2001, 103). At the same time, Mahi/a Aghadis were reaching out to women, offering women the benefits of being part of the movement by running day care centers and income-generating programs (Bannerjee 1996, 1221-22). 
The shakhas (local offices) skillfully balanced economic and ideological incentives for women. They provided informal gathering places for women, built effective ties and mutual loyalties among them, and sponsored religious rallies to create a sense of belonging to the Hindu community. The shakhas became centers to address grievances and organize the daily affairs of the slums. Thus, the residents of the neighborhoods used shakhas to settle family disputes, secure water or electricity connections, and obtain help in finding jobs (Shaikh 2005). Hansen has also highlighted the role of shakhas in spreading rumors and mobilizing people for action, be it for violence, elections, or festivals (Hansen 2001, 12-13). Their role in working class neighborhoods assumed greater importance when the Right's grassroots organization reached out to multitudes in the slums. The popularity of the shakhas not only demonstrates the organizational abilities of the Right, but also the inability of the state, municipality, and other associations to provide these services. The Shiv Sena used the shakhas to establish its hegemony over the neighborhoods and exploited this dominance for its own political agenda (Shaikh 2005). 
PROBLEMS WITH CONSTRUCTING HISTORY 
Sikita Bannerjee and Sucheta Mazumdar argue that the feminization of violence played an important role in the Bombay riots. Previously, women tended to play a supportive role in conflicts. The Bombay riots were the first time that women actively participated in the stoning. I argue that, for the most part, women were not active in the Bombay riots, and the actions of those involved are sufficient for generalizations about a growing threat in the right­wing movement. Just as women participated in the Bombay riots due to an overarching patriarchy, I suggest that many scholars have fallen into the trap of personal bias against the Right, and that this has led to an exaggeration of the threat posed by the active participation of women in the Bombay riots. While there are women leaders whose rhetoric is inflammatory, they span the political spectrum, and when Hindu women loot and bum, they are motivated by factors beside political affiliation alone (Menon 2003, 20-51). 
Madhu Kishwar, a women's rights activist, mentioned in her recordings that women active in both the Right and the moderate Congress Party participated in the riots. She writes: 
In Bombay, a woman corporator was killed by a police bullet while she was leading a riotous mob in an attack on Muslim homes and shops ... She belonged to that faction of the Republican Party which has an alliance with the Congress(!). (Kishwar 1998, 181) 
From Usha Menon's research, it is clear that poor women looted and burned when the opportunity presented itself and they were confident that they would not get caught, but such women were not hardened criminals; they were part of the urban poor who aspired to be part of the middle class and craved durable goods that symbolized a middle-class way of life. Also, right-wing preachers remained ineffective in mobilizing Hindu women. According to Burlet, women often intervened during the Hindu-Muslim riots to protect and save people from other communities. Furthermore, women in some slum dwelling communities set up self-defense militias at the behest of older women to protect local Hindus and Muslims from the effects of nationalist activity in their area. They legitimized such action by arguing that nationalist actors were promoting divisiveness and encouraging violence in their attempt to secure political power (Burlet 1999, 45). Examples such as these show that while there is some evidence that women actively participated in the violence, it is not necessarily caused by a complete indoctrination by the Right. Rather it is a matter of class and economic opportunities. 
That being said, some women did participate in the violence of the riots. The Shiv Sena provided an identity to bring Hindu women together and mobilize them, by limiting the focus to a small, homogenous base, providing economic benefits, and cultivating a mutual relationship of trust with Maharashtrian women. The feeling of belonging to a community enabled women to come out and protest in a violent manner, but it was not as widespread a phenomenon as suggested by Mazumdar and Banerjee. Instead, only relatively small group of disenfranchised women were willing to participate in the violence. 
CONCLUDING REMARKS 
The role of gender and particularly women played out in several ways during the Bombay riots of 1993. On one level, the rhetoric of gender has been used to build the image of the fierce, virile, but self-controlled Hindu male. He is respectful of women and is their protector. The Hindu woman, on the other hand, is portrayed as the chaste mother or pure sister needing the protection of the male. Using these two stereotypes, those outside of this image become "the other," who, according to the rhetoric, is to be eliminated, if needed, to establish the Hindu nation. This rhetoric meshes well with the nationalist project against colonialism. The patriarchal hegemony presents itself in the image of the female who is constructed relative to the male, as a mother, wife, or sister, rather than as an independent woman. 
On another level, the practice of this rhetoric has different meanings for males and females. While the focus on males is outside the scope of this paper, I have examined the phenomenon of women's involvement in the Bombay riots. Although the riots saw many women participate in the riots, I have argued that this a phenomenon that should be attributed to class and the need to belong, rather than the acceptance of Hindutva ideology. Furthermore, there is little evidence that that women's participation was widespread, while there is evidence to suggest that Hindu and Muslim women both participated and resisted the violence. Some who actively participated in violence were completely disenfranchised and did so for ideological reasons, while others were motivated by pure economic gain. To suggest that female participation in violence is a growing threat, therefore, would be unwise. 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Afshar, Haleh. 1996. Women and Politics in the Third World. London: Routledge Press. Anand, Dibyesh. 2005. "The Violence of Security: Hindu Nationalism and the Politics of Representing 'the Muslim' as a Danger." The Round Table 94(379): 203-215. Banerjee. Sikata. 1996. "The Feminization of Violence in Bombay: Women in the Politics of the Shiv Sena." Asian Survey 36(12): 1213-1225. Burle!. Stacy. 1999. "Gender Relations, 'Hindu' Nationalism. and NGO Responses in India.'' Gender and Development 7(1): 40-47. Chatterjee, Partha. 1993. The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Forbes, Geraldine. 2003. "Reflections on South Asian Women's/Gender History: Past and Future.'' Journal ofColonialism and Colonial History 4(1). Hansen. Thomas Blom. 2001. Wages ofViolence: Naming and Identity in Postcolonial Bombay. Princeton: Princeton University. Hasan Zoya. 1994. Forging Identities: Gender Communities and the State. New Delhi: Kali for Women Press. Mazumdar, Sucheta. 1995. "Women on the March: Right-Wing Mobilization in Contemporary India.'' Feminist Review 49: 1-28. McClintock, Anne, et. al. 1997. Dangerous Liaisons: Gender, Nation, and Postcolonial Perspectives. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Menon. Usha. 2003. "Do Women Participate in Riots? Exploring the Notion of 'Militancy' among Hindu Women." Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 9(1 ): 20-51. Trouillot, Michel-Rolph. 1995. Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History. Boston: Beacon Press. Pandey. Gyanendra. 1992. "In Defense ofthe Fragment: Writing about Hindu-Muslim Riots in India Today.'' Representations 37: 27-55. Rasluni Varma. 2004. "Provincializing the Global City: From Bombay to Mmnbai." Social Text8122(4): 65-89. Sangari. Kmnkum and Sudesh Vaid. 1999. Recasting Women: Essays in Indian Colonial History. New Brunswick: Kali for Women. 
Sen Atreyee. 2004. "Mmnbai Slums and the Search for 'a Heart': Ethics, Ethnography. and Dile1mnas of Studying Urban Violence." Anthropology Matters Journal 6(1). http://www.anthropologymatters.com. 
Shaikh, Juned. 2005. "Worker's Politics. Trade Unions and the Shiv Sena's rise in Central Bombay." EPW Special Articles. 30 April. http://www.epw.org.in/show Articles.php?root=2005&leaf=04&filename=8599&filetype=html. 
Sinha. Mrinalini. 1995. Colonial Masculinity: The "Manly Englishman" and the "Effeminate Bengali" in the Late Nineteenth Century. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 
Srinivasan. Bina. 2004. "Religious Fundamentalism. Community Disintegration. and Violence Against Women: All Issues are Women's Issues.'' Socialism and Democracy 18(1): 135-144. 
Yoneyama, Lisa. 1999. Hiroshima Traces: Time, Space, and the Dialectics ofMemory. Los Angeles: University of California Press. 
Untangling Uposatha: 
Indology, Etymologic, History in Buddhist Studies 

BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL 
UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 

If, then, it is the aim of Sanskrit philology to supply one of the earliest and most important links in the history of mankind, we must go to work historically; that is, we must begin, as far as we can, with the beginning, and then trace gradually the growth of the Indian mind ... Now every one acquainted with Indian literature, must have observed how impossible it is to open any book on Indian subjects without being thrown back upon an earlier authority . .. the Veda. It is with the Veda, therefore, that Indian philosophy ought to begin, if it is to follow a natural and historical course. So great an influence has the Vedic age ... exercised upon all succeeding periods of Indian history, so closely is every branch of literature connected with Vedic traditions, so deeply have the religious and moral ideas of that primitive era taken root in the mind of the Indian nation, so minutely has almost every private and public act of Indian life been regulated by old traditionary [sic] precepts, that it is impossible to find the right point of view for judging Indian religion, morals, and literature, without a knowledge of the literary remains of the Vedic age. 
-Max Muller1 
Max Muller's words still echo loudly in studies of Indian religions. Heeding them, researchers of Buddhism have mined Vedic texts for the formative seeds of Buddhist thought and practice. Yet Muller's promise has, at times, led scholars astray. While Vedic terms and ideas do filter into Buddhism (e.g. iitman, karma), chronologically later rites and concepts do not always have a Vedic pedigree-even if there appears to be a Vedic etymology. Similar words do not always denote similar meanings, and sometimes linguistic analysis obscures rather than elucidates. Faux amis leak into history. Muller's 
1 Millier 1860, 9. 
natural growth model of philology too easily construes lexical similarity for conceptual congruence. It confuses etymology and history, and takes linguistic linkage as de facto proof of historical connections. Miiller's etymological logic, or etymologic refracts the development of religious thought and practice through a lens of lexical growth. It promises to bring researchers closer to the original intent, or embryonic core, of a concept or rite through tracing linguistic roots. In short, it imposes a tidy, evolutionary science of linguistics onto a decidedly messier period ofhistory. 
In this essay I hope to suggest a counter vantage with respect to one Buddhist practice, the fortnightly rite of Uposatha, where the false promises of etymologic are especially apparent. Buddhologists frequently insist that Uposatha derives from, and should be understood through, a Vedic antecedent ritual called Upavasatha. Melford Spiro, in his well-known work, Buddhism and Society, renders it as follows: 
[T]hese devotional days [Uposatha] were appropriated by Buddhism from the religion of pre-Buddhist India, in which the days of the full and new moons were regarded as sacred. They were, appropriately the sacrificial days. The day preceding the sacrifice was a sanctified day, the sacrificer observing abstinences of various kinds-from food, labor, sexual intercourse and so on. The day of sacrifice (the upm'asatha) became the Buddhist Sabbath (uposatha). (Spiro 1982, 
215) 
Spiro claims that Uposatha arises directly from Brahmanical customs. Buddhists turned the Vedic ..day of the sacrifice" into a .. Buddhist Sabbath.'' As I will demonstrate, this is not the case. Although the terms are etymologically related, Uposatha derives not from Brahmanical rites but from the practices of other mendicant sects. Buddhist texts themselves call for such a horizontal exan1ination, chronicling the institution of Uposatha as part of competition with paribbiijakas. Nowhere do Buddhist texts compare Uposatha with Upavasatha of the Vedic tradition. I argue that Buddhist methods of begging, eating, meeting, and dressing developed not so much in contrast or conversation with Brahmanical procedures; after all, a highly organized Brahmanical monastic culture did not develop until the medieval period (Olivelle 1992, 16). Rather, Buddhists instated these practices against the piirva pak:ja of other contemporary ascetical groups-Jains, Ajivikas, and other wandering mendicant sects generically referred to as paribbiijakas (Skt: parivrajaka) or sama~1as (Skt: frama~w) (Dutt 1924, 40-44; Shiraishi 1996). To link Buddhist terms to Brahmanical etymology obscures the often larger 
contribution of similar terms, practices, and doctrines concurrent in competing mendicant movements. 
In order to demonstrate the fragility of deriving Uposatha solely from Upavasatha in accordance with etymologic, I will explore depictions of Uposatha in the earliest available bodies of Buddhist literature, the Vinaya Pifaka and Sutta Pi!aka, texts which although scribed centuries after the Buddha's time, nonetheless provide scholars with the only clues (aside from epigraphy) for what early Buddhism looked like.2 These descriptions point to a historical scene rife with disputing mendicant sects professing contending philosophical doctrines. I conclude by musing on why scholars have, almost compulsively, read Buddhism through Vedism by considering Uposatha's imbrications in the discourses of late nineteenth-century Indology. 
UPOSATHA IN BUDDHIST AND JAINA TEXTS3 
Perhaps the most convincing reason to ignore direct connection between Brahmanical Upavasatha and Buddhist Uposatha is that Buddhist texts make no mention of Vedic Upavasatha. Instead, Pali descriptions contrast early iterations of Uposatha with the rites of other mendicant sects, particularly those of Jains' (nigaJJfha). In the MulzJposatha, or "Root of Uposatha," Sutta,4 the Buddha disparages Jain Uposatha as follows: 
[Jains] thus instruct their disciple on Uposatha as follows: Come and look here man, having thrown down all your clothes, say "I am not anyone, of anyone, or by anyone, and nor do I own anyone, am I of anyone, or by anyone." Yet his mother and father know "this is our son." He also knows "these are my mother and father." His son and wife know "this is my provider," he also knows "this is my son and 
2 The Vinaya Pi.taka and Sutta Pi.taka are considered by Theravadins to be the two earlier "baskets" of the Pali Tipi.tika, originally preserved orally and canonized at the first Buddhist Council after the Buddha's death. The Abhidhamma Pi.taka, tradition has it, was finalized at the third Buddhist council during the reign of King Afoka. This essay draws primarily from the Dlgha and Majjhima Nikayas and the Khandaka of the Vinaya Piraka. For more see Steven Collins' "Introduction" in Wijayaratna 1990. 
3 Admittedly, trying to piece together an evolution of Uposalha practice from analysis of Nikiiya and Vinaya passages is a delicate business. It calls into question a number of issues, including the relationship of the Pali Tipi.tika to the actual fonnation of Buddhism (considering its canonizing 400-600 years later). Nonetheless, as mentioned at the outset, these texts also constitute scholars' only non-epigraphical sources for understanding early Buddhism. I would argue that scholars should use these texts to imagine early Buddhism, but do so conscientiously-that is, to consider their contents as plausibilities rather than firm truths. To forego the Pali texts as sources for examining early Buddhism is, in my opinion, to throw out the baby with the bath water. 
4AN.3.70, Warder 1961, 1:205-14. 
54 BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL 
wife." His servants and slaves know "this is our lord." He also knows "these are my servants and slaves." Thus, at such a time when he is to be instructed in truth, at that time they [instead] instruct him in false-speech. I speak of this as lying. By the end of the night he enjoys his possessions (bhoga) even though they were not given [back to him]. I speak of this as taking what is not given. Thus is the Nigai:i~a Uposatha, Visakha. Taken up in this way, O' Visakha the Nigai:i~ha Uposatha is not of great fruit nor of great praise nor of great illumination nor expansiveness 5 
In this section, the Buddha prepares for a description of his own version of Uposatha by first criticizing Jain practices. The passage disparages Niga!Jfha Uposatha for being more show than substance: theatrical displays of austerity are substituted for genuine moral discipline. While quite severe in the short­term, Jain ascetical practices, according to the Buddha's critique, appear utterly incongruous with the rest of disciples' lives. Although the Jain disciple described is thoroughly a worldly man (he is a father, husband and assumedly wealthy owner of slaves and servants), he nonetheless performs the most excessive acts of poverty and renunciation, such as walking around naked and proclaiming detachment from the world. Before moving on to an explanation of his own Uposatha, the Buddha chooses to censure and reconfigure, not the Upm1asatha practices of Brahmans, but the flawed Uposatha practices of other mendicants. 
The serious derision to which Niga!Jfha Uposatha is submitted in this section likely results from the fact that Jaina and early Buddhist fortnightly gatherings shared many similar features; it was thus an obvious object of contrast and competition for Buddhists. This is confirmed in early Jaina texts' , such as the Sutrakritanga 's, descriptions of fortnightly gatherings called (in Jaina Prakrit) Posadha or Posaha and (in Jaina Sanskrit) pausadha. Jaina Posaha is an all-day assembly where lay patrons and monks meet in specially­erected halls, undertake abstinences and recite doctrine. Posaha-observers take up ethical precepts resembling those of Buddhist Uposatha and Jaina monks even recite a Patimokkha-like confession called the Pratikrammana (Deo 1956, 152). The Sutrakritanga describes the event as follows: 
The Venerable One spoke thus: "There are some followers of Sramanas who have made this declaration: we cannot submit to the tonsure, renounce the life of a householder and enter the monastic state, but we shall strictly observe the Posaha on the fourteenth and 
5 Translation mine. AN 3. 70.3, ibid .. I :206. 
eighth days of each fortnight, (on the new-moon, and) full-moon days, we renounce gross ill-usage of living beings, grossly lying speech, gross taking of things not given, (unlawful) sexual intercourse, (unlimited) appropriation of property; we shall set limits to our desires in the two forms and the three ways. They will also make the following renunciation: "neither do nor cause anything (sinful) to be done for my sake." Having (on Posaha-days) abstained from eating, drinking, bathing and using beds or chairs may they, on their decease, be said to make a (righteous) end of their life? "Certainly, they do make such an end of their life." (Jacobi 1968, 2:429-31) 
The Jaina texts ' description of Jaina Posaha resonates unmistakably with Buddhist texts' renderings of Buddhist Uposatha. The Buddha describes his own observance, called brahmiiposatha or ariyiiposatha6, as "cleansing of the sullied mind through expedient means (upakkamena)."7 This technique involves observing eight abstinences for one day and night. One abandons taking life, stealing, intercourse, lying, intoxication, eating after noon, "dancing, singing songs, watching performances at fairs, applying garlands, perfumes or makeup, putting on jewelry or adornments,"8 high or large beds and high, and large chairs."9 A final verse summarizes: 
Do not kill a breathing-thing nor take what is not given/ Do not speak falsehood or be a drunkard/ One should resist sex/ One should not eat during the evening an improperly-timed-meal/ One should not wear a garland nor indulge in perfume/ One should sleep in a simple bed laid upon the ground/ This very eight-limbed Uposatha/ is explained by the Buddha as the elements for the end of suffering. 10 
Buddhist and Jaina texts describe strikingly similar ceremonies. Both Posaha and Uposatha mandate abstinences concerning killing, lying, theft, sex, drinking, eating, self-adorning, and the use of beds and chairs. All eight Buddhist Uposatha abstinences occur in Jain ritual. 
In light of the strong similarities between early Jaina and Buddhist practices, I would argue that one should read the Mulzlposatha Sutta as the product of direct competition between Jain and Buddhist sects. Other passages 
6 
AN 3.70.4,5, Warder 1961 , 1: 206-7. 7 Translation mine. AN 3.70.4, ibid., 1 :207. 8 Translation mine. AN 3.70.15, ibid., 1:212. Q Translation mine. AN 3.70.16, ibid. '0Translation mine. AN 3.70.24, ibid., 214-15. 
in the Pali corpus confinn this. In fact, parts of the Vinaya Pitaka explicitly state that Buddhists not only competed with fains, but that Buddhists created their own Uposatha to compete with Jaina, and sama~1as', Uposathas. Thirty­six paragraphs in the second section of the Mahavagga detail the fonnation of Uposatha. Perhaps most fascinating of all, the passage credits a Magadhan king, Birnbasara, rather than the Buddha, with suggesting Uposatha's creation. It is Bimbasara who, recognizing the need for fortnightly gatherings, implores the Buddha to create a holiday like that of other ascetic sects. The chapter begins: 
At that time wanderers (paribbiijakii) from other sects (titthiyii) gathered on the fourteenth, fifteenth and eighth days of the lunar fortnights and spoke of dhanna. People went to them to hear dharma [and] they acquired affection (pemai?1) for wanderers of other sects; they acquired faith (pasiidaf'f1) [in them]; [and in tum] wanderers of other sects acquired adherents. Then when king, general Bimbisara of Magadha, had gone into seclusion and was meditating, thus a consideration arose in his mind that, ''wanderers of other sects now assemble on the fourteenth, fifteenth and eighth days of the lunar fortnight and recite dhanna. People approach them to hear dharma. They acquire affection for wanders of other sects; they acquire faith [too]. Wanderers of other sects acquire adherents. Well now, those noble ones, as well, should meet on the fourteenth, fifteenth and eighth of the lunar half-month." (Oldenberg 1977, 1:101, 2; translation mine) 
Bimbasara then asks the Buddha to have his followers (Sakyaputta sama!1as) assemble for three days each fortnight. The king's request stems from his concerns about the popularity of other mendicant sects and the laity's growing affection and faith, pemai!1 and pasiidafJ1, for them instead of Buddhist bhikkhus. According to this passage, then, the Buddha creates fortnightly assemblies, ( 1) in order to compete more effectively against other ascetical sects and (2) in response to the urging of a king. Moreover, this passage admits that Buddhist Uposatha is modeled on the practices of frama!W competitors. 
The following Vinaya passages relate the Buddha' s trial and error refining of the nascent bi-fortnightly observances. Initially Buddhist monks assemble and sit silently, but the public demands more: 
People assembled to hear dhanna. They got angry, became disillusioned and expressed irritation: '"how, truly, can the Sons of Sakkya mendicants assemble on the fourteenth, fifteenth and eighth days of the lunar fortnight, [and then] just sit there silent like dumb pigs? Surely, they should speak dhamma when they are assembled! " (ibid., 1:102, 7; translation mine) 
In response to Jay admonishing, the Buddha prescribes that bhikkhus should recite dhamma at assemblies. Up until this modification, the word Uposatha is not used. Instead the occasion is simply described as a time when monks came-together (sannipattitva). Only with the Buddha's third stipulation, the inclusion of the Patimokkha monastic confessional. does the word Uposatha appear: 
What if I were to allow (anzganeyy01J1) the bhikkus to recite the 
precepts that I have designated for them, the Patimokkha, [and so] 
this will become their Uposatha-duty (uposathakamma). (ibid.) 
This passage, and the subsequent expression 11posatha1J1 kareyya, suggests that Uposatha here connotes a type of ascetic behavior that, though known to bhikkhus, is not yet associated with their fortnightly observance. Thus, these sections further suggest that the Buddha' s institution of Uposatha on the fourteenth, fifteenth and eighth days of the lunar fortnight actually constitutes the integration of some already-extent sramai1ica/ Uposatha practice into Buddhist fortnightly gatherings. 
The remaining Vinaya chapter relates the Buddha's adaptation of a general mendicant practice into a format specific to his adherents, particularizing when it is held, who attends and what sorts of performances occur. Thus, Vinaya accounts of Uposatha's development, especially viewed alongside passages such as the Muhlposatha Sulla, show it to be adopted from the concurrent practices of competing mendicant groups. Horizontal searches through Jaina literature further confirm Uposatha as one in a series of Buddhism's conscious borrowings of ritual, conduct and organization rubrics from contemporaneous ascetic sects (see Shiraishi 1996, 20 I). These borrowings were not capricious; as I will show in the next section, they helped early Buddhism compete for royal and lay support against other mendicant movements, a function vital for its survival in the context of ancient India. 
DHAMMA, DEBATE AND DEVOTEES: 
UPOSATHA AND PARIBBAJAKA COMPETITION 

Patronage was crucial for early Buddhists. To take Pali suttas at their word, in Buddhism's nascence, bhikkhus had no pennanent residence or cohort of lay supporters. They relied heavily, if not exclusively, on the fickle generosity of 
58 BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL 
constantly changing population to feed, shelter and clothe them. 11 Early Buddhists did not compete directly with Brahmin priests for public charity, as Brahmins tended to enjoy steady steams of income from providing ritual services. Brahmin ascetics did exist, both as forest-dwelling viinaprasthas and peripatetic parivriijakas, both of which are extensively described in Dharmasutras. However, Brahmanical ascetics were generally lone almsmen, not organized into groups, such as Buddhists, Jains and Ajivikas. Buddhists competed more directly with formalized mendicant sects, tiffhiyas, organized into groups (sanghas and gai:ias), espousing unique philosophical doctrines (dhammas), following particular codes of conduct and crowded around well­known teachers (gai:iiicariya). According to Pali suttas, these sects often wandered the same routes as Buddhists, frequenting designated mendicant pleasure parks, iiriimas. 
The kingdom of Magadha's expansion during the time of the Buddha precipitated increases in wealth and agricultural surplus, which, in tum, allowed large urban populations to flourish. These cities (nagara) and market towns (nigama) doubled as congregation-points for groups of ascetic wanderers, who camped in tree-groves and nearby parks. The following Majjhima Nikiiya sutta paints a suggestive portrait of the Magadhan capital city, R.ajagaha, bustling with competing tiffhiyas crammed into iiramas: 
Thus have I heard: one time the Blessed One was staying at Riijagaha in the bamboo grove of the Squirrel Sanctuary [literally, the place where squirrels are fed]. At that very time, many very famous wandering mendicants (paribbiijakas) were staying at the wandering­mendicant pleasure park (paribbiijakiiramo) where peacocks are fed. Among them were: Annahiiro, Varadharo, Sakuludiiyin and other very famous wandering mendicants. Then in the early part of the day, the Blessed One having dressed and taken up his begging bowl and robe, entered Rajagaha for alms. Then a thought came to the Blessed One: indeed, it is too early to wander in Riijagaha for alms. Now then let me meet with Sakuludiiy in the wandering-mendicant pleasure 
11 I acknowledge Gregory Schopen 's recent interventions for studies of early Buddhist monasticism-it seems likely that monks did own property, wealth and, in some cases, fund themselves. Nevertheless, his critique, in my opinion, does not fully deny the centrality­and reality-of begging and poverty in the early sangha. 
park where peacocks are fed. Then the Blessed One went [there]. At that time the paribbajaka Sakuludayin was sitting with a great collection of paribbajakas who were noisy and talking up a great din with various kinds of ''animal talk" (tiracchiinakatharJ7); such as: gossip about kings, thieves, ministers, armies, fears, wars, food, drinks, clothes, beds, garlands, perfumes, relations, villages, market towns, cities, janapadas, women, men, heroes, roads, rumors at the welL those who are already ghosts, small-talk, the source of the world, the source of the oceans and discourses on being and non­being.12 
This description occurs virtually verbatim in other Pali sztttas. 13 The Buddha enters a city and resides at one aroma while groups of other mendicants congregate at a nearby park. In contrast to the disciplined, orderly assembly of Sakyaputta samm:ias, other paribbajakas throng together and gossip about worldly matters. 
In this climate of direct renunciant competition, Pali texts describe the Buddha as making every effort to dignify and distinguish his bhikkhu sangha as a "field of merit without peers" (puFiiiakkhetta anuttara).14 To do so, the Vinaya outlines detailed instructions on monks' appearance and comportment, often crafting regulations from the view-point of potential donors: "monks should do x so people don' t think y ." Injunctions particularize Sakyaputta bhikkhus from other mendicants in a number of ways: according to begging conduct: walking silently, eating what was given, never speaking with donors, eating quietly, never rejecting food: according to external appearance: donning three-piece yellow robes assembled from discarded rags and self-dyed, shaving their heads (unlike others who rip their hair out or wear matted locks) and carrying particular accoutrements; according to the location of their rainy season retreats: preferring to reside a certain distance from towns and wildemess;15 and according to the types of people they associated with: shunning naked ascetics (acelakas) and female wanderers (paribbiijaka) (see Shiraishi 1996). Such codes of conduct attempted meticulously to distance Buddhist sama!ws from other sects, making them appear unmistakably comported and disciplined to the lay public. 
Buddhist texts describe competing sects in several places. The Siimai1!iaphala Sutta gives the most complete rendering of Buddha's six 
12 Translation mine. MN 77. Trenckner 1888, 2: I. I. 
13 ON LI 7 (PIS i. 7); 9.3 (PIS i. 178); 25.2(PTS iii. 37); MN 76.3-4 (PIS i, 514). 
14 DN III.5. 227; MN I.446; III.80; SN I.167. 220; V.343, 363, 382 and others. See Davids. Stede. 

and Pali Text Society (London England). The Pali Text Society ·s Pali-English Dictionmy, 464. 15 DN 25.5 (iii. 38). 
major competitors: the nihilistic Purana Kassapa, the Ajivika Makkahali Gosala, the materialist Ajita Kesakambali, the atomist Pakudha Kaccayana, the Jaina Nigai:i!ha Nataputta (generally regarded as Mahavira) and the skeptic Safijaya Belanhaputta.16 Other passages distinguish the Buddha's philosophy from those of competing schools of sama(ias and Brahmins. The Brahmajiila Sutta, enumerates long lists of heterodox beliefs: Etemalists, Non-Etemalists, Finitists, Infinitists, "Eel-wrigglers" (amariivikkhepika) and others.17 Some suttas verify the existence of designated debating halls within imperials cities, samayappaviidakasiilii, 18 where rival ascetic groups engaged in formal debate, doing battle with their mouth-weapons (mukhasatthihi). 19 One sutta even describes a Jain monk who derides the Buddha as ·•a magician who knows a converting magic (iiva!!anil?1 miiymJ1) that channs­
away disciples from other sects [to his own]."20 
The creation of Uposatha looks very different when considered in this context of intense inter-sect competition than it does when considered against the backdrop of Vedic ritualism. The practice of Uposatha no longer appears as a reconfiguring or ethicizing of Brahmanical practices. It seems to be one of several adaptations from other srama(1ic groups designed to help Sakyaputta bhikkhus attract patrons and compete with other sects. The Buddha's refining of Uposatha was probably part of a larger program which aimed to make Buddhist practices seem unique, disciplined and sincere (vis­a-vis the excessive, but temporary, Jaina practices described in the MuHiposatha Sutta, for example) in contrast to other ascetics. 
NINETEENTH-CENTURY BIAS, 
TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY BUDDHIST STUDIES 

I have argued that Buddhist texts themselves corroborate Uposatha's coining in response to Jain practices and that Buddhist institutionalizing took place amidst a backdrop of inter-sama(la competition. If all this holds water, why have scholars repeatedly defined Uposatha with reference to Upavasatha? More generally, what do Upavasatha>Uposatha arguments say about Buddhist Studies more generally and its purported object of study? 
16 This list appears repeatedly in the Mahiibodhi Jiitaka, the Milindhapanho, and the Majjhima Nik<~rn among other places. See also the Sandaka Sutta MN 76 (i , 514) . the Apa(1~wka Sulla 
MN 50 (i, 401) in Trenckner, The Majjhima-Nikaya. 17 Brahmajala Sutta DN 1 T, Davids 1890, I: I. 18 Potthapada Sutta DN 9, ibid., I: 178, I. 19 Brahmajala Sutta, DN I, ibid., I: I. 20 Translation mine. SamO(IO hi bhante gotamo may01·1, avayam1!1 maya111 .1ana11 Yaya 
afifiatitthiyan01!1 savake avayeti'ti. Upali Sutta, MN 56, Trenckner 1888, 1:375. 
I believe that the popularity of Upavasatha>Uposatha arguments and Buddhologists' evident affection for Vedic derivations find roots in the biases, enthusiasms and pragmatic circumstances during Buddhist Studies' nascence in the mid-nineteenth century. Buddhist Studies took its first breaths in Europe at a time of academic excitement regarding the discovery and translation of Vedic texts. Although a substantive translation did not appear until Max Miiller's in 1859, the Vedas had existed in the mind of Western scholars since the mid-1700 's "in the form of spurious fragments, misattributions and forgeries . . . as an alienated object or symbol in European consciousness" (Figueira 1994, 201). It was idealized in the romantic writings of Voltaire who, using a French forgery (&our Veidaim) , found the "natural monotheism" that predated European religions. Max Millier saw the Veda as a primitive natural revelation, disclosing ancient peoples' observations about the dawn, changing seasons, thunderstorms and other natural wonders. Millier touted the ~gveda as mankind's oldest and least corrupted religious corpus­pure aesthetic insights into nature, un-diseased by linguistically-induced superstitions and polytheisms. By the time of Buddhist Studies' institutionalization in European universities in the late-nineteenth century, Indology (of which Buddhist Studies constituted a subgroup) seemed to connote the study of Indian religions in reference to the Veda. A.A. Macdonell, one of Indology' s more notable contributors, commended: 
[The Veda is] an earlier stage in the evolution of beliefs based on the personification and worship of natural phenomena . .. To this oldest phase can be traced by an uninterrupted development the germs of the religious beliefs of the great majority of modem Indians. (Macdonell 1963, 6) 
As a consequence of Buddhism's place within Indology, and Indology' s prizing of the Veda, Vedic sources were available in a way that Jaina, Ajivika and other early Indic materials were not. Perhaps more significantly, many figures who laid the groundwork for Buddhist research had already carved out the contours of Vedic studies. In a span of ten years, Herman Oldenberg published translations of the ~gVeda (1888), G.ryha Siitras (1886), D'ipavamsa (1879), Therl and Theragatii (1883 ), and a translation and critical edition of the entire Vinaya Pifaka (1879-1883 , 1881-1885). In a similar period, Monier-Williams not only refined his standard Sanskrit dictionary, but also wrote expansively on Buddhism (see Monier-Williams 1964). Considering the limited availability of texts and the large overlap of Buddhist and Vedic translators it is perhaps unsurprising that descriptions of early Buddhism came in large part through comparison and analogy to Vedic traditions. 
62 BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL 
As a result of Vedism's gravitational pull, nineteenth century scholars imagined Buddhism primarily as a response to Brahmanical religion-a kind of early lndic Protestantism. From the second half of the century, European (especially British and German) scholars treated Buddhism as a fifth century intervention against the priestly excesses of Vedic India. The Buddha was regarded as an Oriental Martin Luther, reforming Indian religions in much the same way as his German analogue: rejecting ceremonialism and priestly privilege; and asserting the primacy of scripture and individual piety (see Almond 1988, 73-74). 
In line with this view of formative Buddhism as inheriting and protesting the systems and beliefs of the "Brahmanical Church" (as Herman Oldenberg analogized), scholars contrived Uposatha in the context of a transition between Vedism and Buddhism (Oldenberg 1998, 170). Uposatha constituted an anti-ceremonial ceremony: Vedic religion whittled down into a non­clerical, introspective form. The most conclusive proof was the name itself: Uposatha appeared to be a Pali-ization of the Vedic Upavasatha. Therefore, following the promises of etymologic, scholars explained Uposatha according to the Brahmanical practices that prefigured it. T.W. Rhys Davids writes: 
The corresponding Sanskrit word [for Uposatha] is upavasatha, the fast-day previous to the offering of the intoxicating soma, connected with the worship of the moon. Instead of worshipping the moon, the Buddhists were to keep the fast-day by special observance of moral precepts; one of many instances in which Gautama spritua/i:;ed existing words and customs. To place reliance on any sacrificial rite, or have anything do with the intoxicating soma, would have been quite unbuddhistic. (Davids 1894, 141; emphasis mine) 
Rhys-Davids' Buddhism transfigures primitive Brahmanical ritualism into a refined system of morality devoid of intoxicants, charms or offerings. It seems that Rhys Davids' use of the word unbuddhistic actually stands-in for un­Victorian; in being "spiritualized," Buddhism sloughs off those elements offensive to fin-de-siecle British sensibilities: "Thus it was, that while most of the superstition and folly which had encrusted the ancient faith was repudiated or ignored, its beauty, and poetry, and truth were first ennobled and spiritualized and then made subservient to that life of self-control, and wisdom, and universal charity" (ibid.) A footnote to this paragraph further illuminates Rhys Davids' vision. It itemizes those Brahmanical practices that 
were purged, purified or ennobled in Buddhism: Buddhists convert fire and soma-worship, caste, and ceremonial bathing from ritual practices to abstract moral principles. 
CONCLUSION 

This strong desire to explain Buddhism with reference to Vedism remains even today. The interpretations and assumptions of Max Muller and other nineteenth century lndologists may still exert an influence on 21st century Buddhology by tempting historians to read early Buddhism through Brahmanism, as a reaction, correction or transcending of Vedic ritualism. While in some cases etymological queries are warranted, often times scholars should be cautious in immediately linking Buddhist terms and practices to Brahmanical antecedents. Uposatha highlights these dangers because although it is a linguistic cognate to Upavasatha, its creation and celebration has little to do with fast days before the Soma sacrifice. Uposatha, it seems, was a common practice among numerous ascetic sects before and during the Buddha's time, and Pali sources acknowledge that Uposatha was created in order to compete with Jain and other irama~1ical sects. Thus, Uposatha' s origins are not, as is commonly assumed, rooted in the Vedic practices pre­dating the Buddha, but they derive from ascetical sects concurrent with the Buddha. 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Almond, Philip C. 1988. The British Discovery of Buddhism. New York: Cambridge University Press. Bailey, Greg, and Ian W. Mabbett. 2004. The Sociology of Early Buddhism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
Bechert, Heinz. 1995. "Introductory Essay: Dates of the Historical Buddha." In When Did the Buddha Live ?, edited by Heinz Bechert, 1-36. Delhi: Sri Satgum Publications. 
Chakravarti, Uma. 1987. The Social Dimensions of Early Buddhism. New York: Oxford University Press. Collins. Steven. 1998. Nirvana and Other Buddhist Felicities: Utopias of the Pali Imaginaire. New York: Cambridge University Press. 
Davids. T., and W. Rhys. 1894. Buddhism: Being a Sketch ofthe Life and Teachings of Gautama, the Buddha. Rev. ed .. Non-Christian Religious Systems. New York: E. and J.B. Young. 
Davids. T., W. Rhys and J.E. Carpenter. 1890. The Digha-Nikaya. London: Pali Text Society. 
Deo, Shantaram Bhalchandra.1956. History ofJaina Monachism from Inscriptions and Literature, Deccan College Dissertation Series 17. Poona: Deccan College Post­graduate and Research Institute. 
Dutt, Sukumar. 1924. Early Buddhist Monachism, 600 B.C.-100 B.C. London: Kegan Paul Trench Trubner. Eggeling, J. [1900] 1978. The Satapatha-Brahma!ia. Edited by Max Muller. 5 vols. Vol. 26, 41, 43, 44, Sacred Books of the East. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. 
Figueira, Dorothy. 1994. "'The Authority of an Absent Text." In Authority, Anxiety and Canon: Essays in Vedic Interpretation, edited by Laurie L. Patton. Albany: State University of New York Press. 
Fitzgerald, T. 1999. "Ambedkar, Buddhism and the Concept of Religion.'' In Untouchable: Dalits in Modern India, edited by S.M. Michael, 57-71. Delhi: Sage Publications. 
Horner. I. B. 1938. The Book ofthe Discipline (Vinaya Pitaka). 6 vols. Sacred Books of the Buddhists. Vols. 10-11, 13-14, 20, 25. London: H. Milford Oxford University Press. 
Jacobi. Hermaim. 1968. Jaina Sutras. 2 vols, Unesco Collection of Representative Works: Indian Series. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. 
Jaini. P.S. 2001. "Sramanas: Their Conflict with Brahmanical Society." In Collected Papers on Buddhist Studies, edited by P.S. Jaini, 47-96. New Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. 
Kangle. R. P. 1969. The Kautil~va Arthasastra. 2d ed. 2 vols. Bombay: University of Bombay. Monier-Williams, Monier. 1951. A Sanskrit-English Dictionary. New ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 
---. 1964. Buddhism in Its Connexion 1vith Brahmanism and Hinduism, and in Its Contrast with Christianity. 2d ed, Chowkhamba Sanskrit Studies V. 45. Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series Office. 
Morison. Kathleen D. 1997. "Conm1erce and Culture in South Asia: Perspectives from Archeology ai1d History." Annual Revieiv ofAnthropology 26: 87-108. 
Millier. F. Max. 1860. A History ofAncient Sanskrit Literature: So Far as It l1/ustrates the Primitive Religion of the Brahmans. 2nd rev. ed. London: Williams and Norgate. 
Nanamoli. Bhikku and Bhikku Bodhi. 2001. The Middle Length Discourses of the Buddha. Somerville: Wisdom Publications. Nikam. N. A. 1978. The Edicts of Asoka. Translated by Richard Peter McKeon. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Nonnan. K. R. 1989. "Asoka's 'Schism' Edict." In Collected Papers. 191-218. Oxford: Pali Text Society. ---. 1990. "Theravada Buddhism and Brahmanical Hinduism.'' In Collected Papers. 271-80. Oxford: Pali Text Society. Oldenberg. Hermann. 1977. The Vinaya Pitakam. Edited by Pali Text Society (London England). 5 vols. London: Routledge. 1992. Samnyasa Upanisads: Hindu Scriptures on Asceticism and Renunciation. New York: Oxford University Press. 
--. 1998. Bouddha: Vie Et Religion. Paris: J. de Bo1mot. Prasad. Nand Kishore. 1972. Studies in Buddhist and Jaina Monachism. Vaishali: Research Institute of Prakrit Jainology & Ahimsa. Prasad. NK. 1971. "'Uposatha." Vaishali Inst. Research Bulletin I: 187-96. Rothennund, H. and D. Kulke. 1999. A History ofIndia. New York: Routledge. Shiraishi. Ryokai. 1996. Asceticism in Buddhism and Brahmanism: A Comparative Study, Buddhica Britannica. Series Continua. 6. Tring: Institute of Buddhist Studies. Spiro, Melford E. 1982. Buddhism and Society: A Great Tradition and Its Burmese Vicissitudes. 2nd expanded ed. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tambiah, Stanley Jeyaraja. 1976. World Conqueror and World Renouncer: A Study of Buddhism and Polity in Thailand against a Historical Background. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
Thapar. Romila. 1997. Asoka and the Decline of the Mauryas: New Revised Edition. 
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Warder. A.K. 1956. "On the Relationships between Early Buddhism and Otl1er Contemporary Systems." Bulletin of the Shcoo/ of Oriental and African Studies, University ofLondon 18( l ): 43-63. 
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The Buddha's Biography as a Teaching of the 
Bodhisattvayana 
JUSTIN FIFIELD 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN 

The Mahiivastu is an ancient Buddhist Sanskrit text of the Lokottaraviidins, a branch of the Mahiisiimghika sect.1 It is ostensibly a biography of the Buddha Sakyamuni, from his birth as Megha (Sumedha in the Pali canon) in the time of Dipamkara Buddha, through his enlightenment and early career as the Buddha Sakyamuni. It is a very perplexing and intriguing text. In addition to the biography of the Buddha, jiitaka tales, siitras, and avadiina stories are interspersed throughout the text.2 Some of these sections fit well into the overall narrative of the Buddha' s biography, but others do not, and scholars are at a loss to explain their presence and function in the text. In fact, many have judged the Mahiivastu to be quite incoherent, and to have no overall organization. Moriz Wintemitz, a scholar of Sanskrit texts, echoes others when he states: "Far from its being a specimen of artistic literature, the Mahiivastu should rather be described as a labyrinth .. . There is no apparent principle of systematic arrangement" (Wintemitz 1971, 241 ). 
It is certainly true that the Mahiivastu is not a smoothly composed text; there are many repeated and disjointed stories, an almost complete lack of poetic transitions, and older and newer material woven together. A close examination of the text, however, does reveal at least one principle of systematic arrangement. The key to recognizing this is to look closely at the intentions of the authors of the Mahiivastu, and examine how they wanted the Mahiivastu to be received by other adherents. In the beginning of the text, it is stated that the Mahiivastu is part of the Vinaya-pif aka or disciplinary canon of the Lokottaraviidins. By stating this, the authors of the Mahiivastu are 
1 The Loko11aral'l'idins and the Mahi'isamghikas are both sri'imkayiina sects (so-called Hinayana sects, a tenn that will be avoided in this paper; sri'ivakayi'ina means "path of the hearer," referring to the traditional goal of becoming an arhat). 2 Ji'itaka tales relate stories of the Buddha's fonner lives; s1itras are religious discourses: and aradi'ina stories are stories, usually about the Buddha's past lives, which have a strong moral message. 
68 JUSTIN FIFIELD 
signaling that they want this text to be accepted as buddhavacana, ''the words of the Buddha," and as a vinaya text, a canonical genre of texts that focuses on proper conduct and discipline. This claim to canonicity is highly significant in light of the probable date of the Mahiivastu. Winternitz assigns it to the 4th or 5th century CE, a time when the Buddhist canons, although not entirely closed, were to a large extent determined (ibid., 247). The Mahiivastu is trying to claim canonicity after the fact. This was not an easy thing to do. There were rather strict rules governing later additions to the canon. Many texts were rejected by one sect or another, and the Mahiiyiina-sfitras in particular were repeatedly attacked for claiming to be buddhavacana. To avoid rejection, the authors of the Mahiivastu had to adhere to certain principles of canonical texts in order for their text to be accepted as canonical. An examination of these general principles, and their application in the Mahiivastu, will help clarify the function of the Buddha's biography in the text, and the function of the 
Mahiivastu in the Vinaya-pifaka of the Lokottaraviidins. 
These general principles must be derived from the existing canonical material. In general, canonical vinaya texts teach proper conduct and the practices that lead to salvation. The Mahiivastu does the same. However, the Mahiivastu is not concerned about the same types of practices as the majority of vinaya texts. Rather, the Mahiivastu teaches the proper conduct of a bodhisattva, and the long road to enlightenment as a buddha. It is, in the strict sense of the term, a teaching of the bodhisattvayiina (the path of the bodhisattva), a tradition of teaching that eventually led to the formation of Mahiiyiina Buddhism. The Mahiivastu combines an enumeration and description of the general stages and practices of the bodhisattvayiina with a long retelling of the Buddha's entire biography. The Buddha's biography is crucial to the Mahiivastu not only as an example par excellence of the bodhisattvayiina, but also as a means to claim canonicity. In fact the Mahiivastu' s claim to be a canonical vinaya text requires the extensive use of the Buddha's biography in order to draw on the innate canonicity invested in that hagiography. 
In order to demonstrate this fact, I will deal with several different topics. First, the Mahiivastu's identity as a vinaya text must be established. I will then examine the general principles of canonicity, with close attention to the Vinaya-pifaka and biographical stories. Finally, I will apply these principles to the Mahiivastu. This will reveal some principles of the Mahiivastu's construction, and help clarify its function as a vinaya text. 3 
3 I have not yet determined whether there is enough evidence within the Mahiimst11 to distinguish if it was primarily a descriptive or prescriptive text. In other words, its hard to say if anyone actually did the things outlined in the text. 
THEMAHAVASTU AS A VJNAYATEXT 

Many scholars do not accept the Mahavastu as a vinaya text. To Wintemitz, for example, the Mahavastu is hardly a vinaya text at all. He writes, "apart from a few remarks on admission into the order, it contains next to nothing about the Vinaya'' (Wintemitz 1971 , 241 ). J. J. Jones, the translator of the Mahavastu, also has doubts: "Although it is styled a Vinaya it almost seems as if, in the course of the period of its compilation, all the elements characteristic of a Vinaya were deliberately omitted" (Jones 1949, xiii). 4 These are serious doubts, especially when the text itself claims to be a vinaya text. In the short introduction after the initial benediction, the Mahavastu states: 
a1yamahasamghikanam lokottaravadinam madhyadesikanam 
pathena vinayapifakasya mahavastuye adi. (Rahula 1978, 360 2n) 
Here begins the Mahavastu, which is based on the redaction of the 
Vinaya Pitaka made by the noble Mahasanghikas, the Lokottara­
vadins of the Middle Country. (Jones 1949, 3) 
The sentence itself is quite clear, and is nearly identical to similar sentences found in other Lokottaravadin vinaya texts; ones that are not questioned (see Roth 1970). Why, then, did scholars dismiss this claim? The quotes given above indicate that many did not consider the subject matter of the Mahavastu to be "proper" vinaya material. This was no doubt based on a comparison of the Mahavastu with the Pali Vinaya-pifaka. The latter was the best known and most accessible Vinaya-pifaka available to western scholars. In addition, both the Lokottaravada and Theravada (by whom the Pali Vinaya-pifaka was written) were sravakayana sects, and therefore assumed to be quite similar. 
There is not much in common between the Mahavastu and the Pali Vinaya-pifaka. With the exception of the Mahavagga, the latter does not contain many biographical stories (that is, complete stories, rather than narrative frames and the like). In the Pali canon, most biographical stories­such as the biography of the Buddha,jatakas, and avadanas-are found in the Khuddaka-nikaya, a section of the Sutta-pif aka. There is no "Mahavastu­type'' text in the Pali Vinaya-pifaka. Faced with the Mahavastu, scholars could not find a ready parallel. In addition, the Mahavastu, except in the most 
All references to the Mah<7vastu are from volume one w1less otheiwise noted. 
general sense, is not concerned with the same topics as the Pali Vinaya-pi!aka. It does not discuss legalistic rules and their origins, nor enumerate any of the rules and regulations found in the latter (except rules regarding the most serious offenses, such as killing one's father or an arhat). As a bodhisattvayiina teaching, the Mahiivastu makes different assumptions about the path to salvation, and consequently emphasizes different conduct. It teaches conduct appropriate for one who has voluntarily vowed to stay in samsiira, the cycle of birth and death, in order to reach the full enlightenment of a buddha, similar to Mahiiyiina disciplinary texts. This is quite different from Pali Vinaya-pi!aka, which emphasizes nirvana and escape from samsiira as the highest goal. For example, the Mahiivastu assumes that the practitioner will be reborn as a god or layman countless times, usually as a cakravartin or universal king, and gives guidance on how to act. It teaches ways to cope with the sufferings of samsiira-that is, how to negate bad karma and guarantee a good rebirth-rather than ways to reach nirvana as quickly as possible. Thus, the Mahiivastu is rather unique in the way it straddles the traditional categories of disciplinary texts. On the one hand, it claims to be a vinaya text of a sriivakayiina sect, like the Theravada Pali Vinaya-pi!aka. On the other hand, it is a teaching of the bodhisattvayiina, and consequently deals with many of the same issues as Mahiiyiina disciplinary texts. It is no wonder, then, that many scholars questioned the Mahiivastu' s placement in the Vinaya­pi!aka. 
Ifthe Pali Vinaya-pi!aka is not taken as the standard for vinaya texts, then the arguments against the Mahiivastu begin to fall apart. There is actually much evidence in favor of its identification with the Vinaya-pi!aka. I have already quoted the Mahiivastu's claim to be part of the Vinaya-pi!aka. 5 In addition, there are many similarities between the Mahiivastu and other vinaya texts. First of all, the Mahiivastu is clearly related to the Mahiivagga, a text of the Khandaka section of the Pali Vinaya-pi!aka. Early on, scholars recognized the close connection between these two texts. Jones sums it up well: 
That there is a very close relation between the Mahavastu and the Mahavagga is abundantly proved by the close, practically verbal 
5 Some object that the introduction where this sentence is found is a later addition. Jones himself thought as much. However, in this discussion I am only interested in the present form of the text, understood as an entire unit. It will remain for other studies to peel apart the different layers, a staggeringly complex job. Jones himself said in the prefaces to Volumes I and II that he planned to compile a correspondence chart for the Mahavastu and the Pali Tipifaka, but gave up due to the complexities of the text and the difficulties with the language. 
parallelism between the last quarter or so of the former with the first 
twenty-four chapters of the latter. (Jones 1949, xii) 
Although the function of the Mahiivagga and Mahiivastu may differ, they are clearly closely related. Many have even suggested that the Mahiivastu was the "Mahiivagga-type" text of the Lokottaraviida Vinaya-pi!aka. Nalinaksha Dutt called the Mahiivastu the "the first book of the Vinaya of the Lokottaravadins," referring to the placement of the Mahiivagga as the first book of the Khandaka section of the Pali Vinaya-pi!aka (Dutt 1998, 64 ). 
There is also a curious Chinese colophon at the end of the Fo-pan-hing­tsi-ching (another biography of the Buddha, which Beal called the Abhini~kramana-siitra) that connects the Mahiivastu to the Vinaya-pi!aka: 
It may be asked, "By what title is this Book to be called?" to which we reply, the Mahasanghikas call it "Ta-sse'' (great thing, Mahavastu). The Sarvastivadas call it "Ta-chong-yen" (great magnificence, Lalita-Vistara). The KasyapTyas call it "Fo-woug-yin­un" (former history of Buddha). The Dharmaguptas call it "Shi-kia­mu-ni-Fo-pen-hing" (the different births of Sakya-Muni-Buddha). The MahTsafakas call it '"Pi-ni-tsong-kan" (Foundation of the Vinaya Pitaka). (Beal 1985, 386-87) 
In this quote the Mahiivastu is identified with several other biographies of the Buddha cThe Lalita Vistara is usually considered a Mahayana siitra, but it was originally the biography of the Buddha for the Sarvastivada). At the end of the list, we see that the Mahlsiifokas also had a biography of the Buddha, called the Pi-ni-tsong-kan. Here it is explicitly related to the Vinaya-pi!aka as a foundational text. It was also probably a "Mahiivagga-type" text, relating the emergence of the Buddhist Sangha (community of believers). This suggests that, at least according to the author of this colophon, the Mahiivastu was connected to the Vinaya-pi!aka (albeit perhaps obliquely). lncidently, Chinese translations of all these Vinaya-pifakas were available when the Fo­pan-hing-tsi-ching was translated, and were thus available to the author of this colophon.6 
6 One possible argument against this point, however, comes from the journal of the famous Chinese monk Fa-hsien, who traveled to India in the early 5'11 century. He claimed to have obtained a complete manuscript copy of the Mahiisiimghika Vinaya, but his translation did not include or mention the Mahiivastu. This ambivalence suggests that the Mahiivastu was not necessarily accepted by all adherents as a part of the Lokottarm,iida or Mahiisamghika Vinaya­pitaka (the difference between these two sects is unclear). Or perhaps the Mahlivastu was not circulated at Bodhagaya at that time (the place from which Fa-hsien took his manuscripts). 
A final piece of evidence linking the Mahiivastu to the vinaya is that the Mahiivastu is closely related to avadiina literature. The Mahiivastu regularly calls itself an avadiina at the end of stories where titles are given. The following titles are found throughout the text: Sri Mahiivastu-avadiina-kathii; Sri Mahiivastu-avadiina; and Mahiivastu-avadiina (Rahula 1978, 6). Avadiina stories have always been closely associated with vinaya texts. Their function is nearly identical: to show how proper conduct leads to good rewards and salvation. E. B. Cowell and R. A. Neil, in the preface to their edition of the Divyiivadiina, state: "Many of our legends belong to the Vinaya-pitaka" (Cowell and Neil 1886, viii). Wintemitz, citing S. Levi, says that over one­half of the avadiinas in the Divyiivadiina are from the Miilasarviistiviida 
Vinaya-pifaka (Wintemitz 1971, 284-5). Likewise Bhikkhu Rahula, in his 
critical study of the Mahiivastu, comments: "the avadiina class of literature 
originally belonged to the Vinaya itself' (Rahula 1978, 2-3). 
The most in-depth study of this topic is Akira Hirakawa' s A Study ofthe Vinaya-Pifaka. He found avadiina stories in all the versions of the Vinaya­pifaka (in Indian languages and Chinese translations). Although the bulk of the study is in Japanese (and thus inaccessible to me), the English introduction summarizes many of his conclusions. First, he found that all six categories of avadiina literature listed in the MahilprajnilparamittiSiistra are in some of the Vinaya-Pifakas. Secondly, the Pali Vinaya-pifaka had the fewest avadtina stories: only nine in total. The Mahiisiimghika-Vinaya, with which I am primarily concerned, had thirty-one. At the high end, the Miilasarviistivada­Vinaya had over one-hundred and seventy (Hirakawa 1970, 12-14). This further illustrates a point stated earlier, that the Pali Vinaya-pifaka does not contain many biographical stories. It is now clear that this is not the case with all Vinaya-pifakas, and that there is a whole spectrum of possibilities. Although the Mahiivastu may not be consistent with the Theraviida Pali Vinaya-pifaka, it would fit well into the Mahtisiimghika or Miilasarviistivtida Vinaya-pifaka, at least in terms of biographical stories. Given this, and the 
other evidence cited above, it is reasonable to assume that the Mahiivastu is a vinaya text, or perhaps more importantly, that the authors worked hard for it to appear as such. 
PRINCIPLES OF CANONICITY 
AND THE USE OF BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES 

As a vinaya text, the Mahtivastu had to conform to various principles of composition in order to establish canonicity. Many of these principles revolve around the use of the Buddha's biography. In the broader canon, the most common and extensive use of biographical stories is in narrative frames. All canonical texts use biographical narrative frames (with one important exception that I will note below). Their main function is to authorize teachings as buddhavacana or "the words of the Buddha," the key to canonicity. Lamotte, quoting from scripture, gives this explanation of 
buddhavacana: 
The word of the Buddha is "whatever reaches us as such through the succession of masters and disciples, whatever is found in the Sutra, appears in the Vinaya and does not contradict the nature of things (dharmata)." (Lamotte 1988, 164) 
According to this, there are two ways that a teaching can claim to be buddhavacana: (1) it is already in the canon (siitra and vinizya); and (2) it is demonstrably connected to the Buddha Sakyamuni through a ''succession of masters and disciples" and does not contradict the existing canon. 
Although the process of canon formation is not well understood, Buddhist tradition states that teachings already in the canon (criteria I) are those that were recited at the First Council, and recited again at subsequent Councils. The First Council was held after the Buddha's parinirvana (the death of a buddha) to recite the teachings of the Buddha, and establish an authoritative body of teachings, which they called the Tripifaka (literarlly, "the three baskets," consisting of the Si"itra-Pifaka, Vinaya-Pifaka, and Abhidharma­pifaka. ). It was this tradition-as opposed to actual historical connection­that mattered to the authors of the Mahavastu, who were trying to present the Mahavastu as a canonical text. The common narrative frame "Thus have I heard... " is the standard way of invoking a connection to the First Council, and is found in nearly all canonical texts. This frame "proves'' that the teaching was spoken by the Buddha Sakyamuni, and later retold by his attendant Ananda at the First Council (the "I" of the above quote). Ananda was a direct witness to the teaching, and thus a direct connection to the Buddha Sakyamuni (criteria 2 ). Ananda also related the location, setting, and circumstances of the teaching given by the Buddha, and this provided further "proof' of the canonicity of a given text. 
It is hard to overstate the importance of this narrative frame. Woodward, in the context of the Theravada, has called this sort of reasoning the "biographical imperative" of the canon ( 1997). He cites a particularly illuminating example from the Atthasalini, a Theravada text written by Buddhagho~a, wherein the authority of the Abhidharma came into question.7 He states: "Biographical frame stories are so common in Sutta and Vinaya 
7 The Abhidharma is the third and final section of the Tripitaka. Buddhagho~a. in the Therai·iida tradition. is the monk largely responsible for the fonnation of the Pali canon. 
texts, that according to Atthasalini "'heretics" pointed to their absence from Abhidhamma texts as a sign that they were not truly spoken by the Buddha" {ibid. 47). The Abhidharma texts lacked the standard biographical narrative frame, and thus could not be definitively linked to the Buddha Sakyamuni through an unbroken chain of disciples. They were, therefore, deemed spurious by some monks, who feared that they were merely the works of unenlightened poets or philosophers. 
Some texts were rejected from the canon even with biographical narrative frames. This is where the second criteria of buddhavacana came into play. The text in question had to broadly correspond to dhanna, which in practice meant the other texts already in the canon, and it could not contradict any of their basic tenets. The rejection of the Mahiiyiina sfitras by the various sriivakayiina sects is a clear instance of this. Almost all Mahiiyiina siitras have narrative frames, both the phrase ''Thus have I heard . .." and a description of the specific location and setting of the teaching. However, the teachings of the Mahiiyiina siitras, at least in the eyes of the sriivakayiina sects, did not correspond to their idea of dharma. They were dismissed as merely the compositions of poets, working for Mara-the evil god of samsiira-in order to lead the monks astray. The Mahiiyiina siitras were so plagued by these accusations that for the most part they abandoned any aspirations to sriivakayiina canonicity and established alternative means of authentication, such as appealing to other transmission lineages or buddhas. 
A second way biographical narrative frames are used in the canon is to describe specific circumstances from the Buddha's life that led to general rules of conduct. This type of frame is found most often in the Siitra­Vibhanga of the Vinaya-pifaka. The general pattern is this: there is a story about how a problem arose within the Sangha, the participants report the problem to the Buddha, and the latter pronounces a general rule. The rule is thus legitimized by the narrative story, which describes how the rule is the direct word of the Buddha (buddhavacana). The chronological relationship between the story and the rule is not always clear. The various Vinaya-pi[akas do not always agree on the story, although they usually have the same rules. This suggests that the stories are later than the rules, and were added after the Sangha had already split into sects. Many scholars cite this fact to argue that the Pratimok!ja-a text found in the Sfitra-Vibhanga that is a list of the rules without the stories-is earlier than the Siitra-Vibhanga (the rules with the stories). The Pratimok!ja is a purely liturgical text, used in the fortnightly recitation of the rules and confession of sins. It is significant that the Pratimok!ja, although perhaps older in age, is nonetheless non-canonical. The canonical version is the Siitra-Vibhanga, the version with biographical stories. In addition, the Pratimok!ja of the Mahiisiimghikas deviates from the Pali in 
an interesting way: it preserves the biographical stories for the piiriijikas, the four most serious offenses requiring expulsion from the order. All this suggests that the biographical stories were considered to be of utmost importance. A bare list of rules, while useful in ritual, seems to lack canonical authority. It is the biographical stories that give the text canonicity. In the case of the Mahiisiimghikas, the piiriijika stories were so important that they were included in the ritual recitation of the Pratimok~a. 8 In fact, it is likely that the only reason the Pratimok~a could exist as an independent, bare list of rules was because there was always the Sflfra-Vibhanga to check it against. 
These biographical narrative frames, all of which take the Buddha's last life as Sakyamuni as their setting, were not the only ones endowed with canonical authority. The Buddha's past lives were also considered canonical. This is clearly shown by the inclusion of the jiitakas and avadiinas in the Pali Sutta-pi!aka. This case is interesting because the stories of the Buddha's past lives do not usually have biographical narrative frames. Buddhagho~a's refutation of the heretics mentioned above from the Atthasalini is illuminating: 
But if a heretic should say, had the Abhidhamma been spoken by the Buddha, there would have been an introduction prefatory to it, just as in many thousands of the Suttas the preface generally runs as, "One Day the Blessed One was staying in Rajagaha," etc. he should be contradicted thus: "The Jiitakas , Suttanipata, Dhammapada, and so on. have no such introductions, and yet they were spoken by the Buddha." (Woodward 1997, 4 7) 
The stories of the Buddha's past lives were considered to be canonical for different reasons than szltras and vinaya texts, which relied on the use of narrative frames . In some way, they were authoritative by themselves. This may be due to the close connection between the Buddha's past lives and the enlightenment experience. One of the traditional descriptions of the enlightenment consists of the Buddha being able to perceive all beings' past, present and future lives, including his own. The Mahiivastu has this description: 
In the first watch of the night, the Exalted One ... comprehended the 
different comings and goings of men. In the middle watch he called 
to mind previous existences of others and of himself, and came to 
8 These same parajika offenses are also some of the few Pratimok~·a rules found in the Mahamstu. 
know the various occasions of former existences. In the last watch . . . 
[he reached enlightenment]. (Jones 1949, 5) 
The enlightenment experience gave the Buddha ultimate insight into all his past lives, and therefore the actions that led to his enlightenment. The efficacy of those actions in his past lives was in a sense proved by the enlightenment itself. It is not an overstatement to say that the enlightenment process allowed the Buddha to perceive the bodhisattvayana. 
This made the stories of the Buddha's past lives, in texts such as j atakas and avadanas, the most important and extensive canonical source for teachings on the bodhisattvayana. In fact, these stories were nearly the only source, along with a few mentions scattered throughout the canon. Any teaching of the bodhisattvayana that sought to claim canonicity, therefore, needed to make use of these stories. This is precisely what is found in the Mahiivastu, where stories of the Buddha's past lives are used to illustrate and legitimize the bodhisattvayana. 
The Mahavastu is not the only text that uses this strategy. A Theravada text named the Cariya-pifaka of the Khuddaka-nikaya follows this same pattern. This text enumerates the Ten Perfections of a bodhisattva. The Ten Perfections are those qualities that a bodhisattva must perfect through meritorious action and thought, over countless years and lifetimes, in order to become a buddha. They are common to nearly all sects of Buddhism (including, of course, Mahayana sects), although they are not always elaborated in the same way. The Cariya-pifaka is similar to the Mahavastu in that it is ostensibly simply a collection of biographical stories-here jiitaka tales---organized according to the Ten Perfections. These jataka stories are identical to those found in other parts of the Pali canon, but they are in verse instead of prose. The stories are used to illustrate the characteristics of the Ten Perfections of a bodhisattva. Besides the chapter names, there is nearly no additional information or narrative framing; the stories are told immediately after the chapter name, and stand alone to illustrate the Perfections. The only added material is at the end of some of these stories where there is a short summary phrase, such as: "'This was my perfection of morals" (Law 1938, 114). All this suggests that the construction of the Mahavastu, a bodhisattvayana text based on biographical stories, is not unique or aberrant. There were other attempts to use the Buddha's biography to create a canonical text about the bodhisattvayana, even if it was a siitra instead of a vinaya text.9 
9 How texts ended up in certain pifakas in the various srclvakay<lna Tripifakas is a question that needs more research. 
Significantly, the Cariya-pifaka is from the Pali canon, traditionally considered the most "non-bodhisattvayana" of the sravakayana sects. 
In contrast to this method of composing a bodhisattvayana text to maintain canonicity, the Mahayana disciplinary texts do not make much use of biographical stories (excluding simple narrative frames). Take, for instance, two Mahayana disciplinary texts roughly contemporary with the Mahavastu: the Ugra-pariprccha and the Dafabhiimika-siltra. Both of these siitras describe the proper conduct and discipline of a bodhisattva in a straightforward manner without the use of biographical stories. There are biographical narrative frames, but they are different in the two texts, illustrating the range of Mahayana siitras. The format of the Urga-pariprccha is a series of questions and answers, as its name, "The Inquiry of Ugra," implies. The story is that Ugra, a householder, goes to the pleasure garden of Anathapir:ic;lika in Sravasfi and asks the Buddha questions about the proper conduct of both householder and renunciant bodhisattvas. The Buddha replies by stating general principles, not by telling stories. The teaching is remarkably restrained and down-to-earth for a Mahayana siitra. There is little space devoted to elaborate miracles, hyperbolic statements about merit, or praise of various named bodhisattvas. 10 The Dafabhiimika-siitra, on the other hand, has all these features. The teaching is set in heaven, where the Buddha Sakyamuni is sojourning after his enlightenment. The assembled practitioners are all bodhisattvas, and it is a bodhisattva who actually gives the teaching. Once again, no biographical stories are used to illustrate the teaching, which in this text is the Ten Stages of a bodhisattva (dafabhiimi). In this text, the Buddha only plays the role of authorizing the teaching after the fact. 
These examples show that although the Mahavastu deals with many of the same topics and issues as Mahayana disciplinary texts (such as the Ten Stages, see below), it is much closer to the Cariya-pifaka in its construction. This demonstrates the intention of the authors of the Mahiivastu to claim canonical authority for their text. The Mahayana siitras, in most cases, did not try to claim canonical authority, at least within sravakayana sects. Rather, they employed a variety of other authenticating strategies, such as creating separate transmission lineages coming from the Buddha Sakyamuni, or appealing to the power of buddhas other than Sakyamuni. This left the authors of the Mahayana siitras free to write anything they wanted. The authors of the Mahiivastu, on the other hand, made a choice to conform to the canonical 
' 0 By miracles I mean the ones that are standard tropes in Mahayana siltras. like the smile of the Buddha that lights up the cosmos, not miracles in general, which are found in all types of teachings. 
78 JUSTIN FIFIELD 
strictures of buddhavacana, and thus ended up with a text similar to the Cariyii-pi!aka. 
PRINCIPLES OF CANONICITY 
AND BIOGRAPHICAL STORIES IN THE MAHA VASTU 

The conditions of buddhavacana and canonicity had a profound affect on the composition of the Mahiivastu. To restate, in order for the Mahiivastu to be accepted as buddhavacana it had to demonstrate that: (I) it was tied to the Buddha Sakyamuni, at least '"through a succession of masters," and (2) it was broadly in agreement with the rest of the canon. This is done in the Mahiivastu mainly through the use of biographical narrative frames and stories, parallel to the examples given above. 
The authors of the Mahiivastu must have asked themselves how they could create a canonical teaching on the bodhisattvayiina, and settled on a strategy similar to the Cariyii-pi!aka. This entailed basing their teachings largely on the one type of canonical literature that dealt with the bodhisattvayiina: the biographical stories of the Buddha Sakyamuni's many lives. This type of literature is found in many parts of the canon, and the Mahiivastu seems to have drawn from most of it. According to the divisions of the Pali canon, the Mahiivastu contains siitras from the Majjhima-nikiiya, Digha-nikiiya, Samyutta-nikiiya, and Khuddaka-nikiiya; sections from the Dhammapada, Suttanipiita, Mahiivagga, and still other parts of the canon; around forty jiitaka tales, some not extant elsewhere; and a few unique sections. 11 These identifications with the Pali canon are not always verbatim, and there is no doubt that some parallel sections in the Mahiivastu are both older and younger than their respective twins in the Pali canon. However, it is clear that the authors have not tampered much with their source material. The various siitras, jatakas, and avadiinas are presented as discrete units, usually with a title given at the end. There is little attempt to make smooth transitions, beyond grouping sections together by broad themes. For example, before a 
jiitaka story it is common for the Buddha to declare something like this: '"This was not the first time, monks, that Ya5odhara here was displeased. There was another occasion also when she was displeased" (Jones 1949, 2:62). Sometimes two or more versions of the same story or text are given. For instance, in the middle of the enlightenment story the so-called Avalokita­siitra is twice recited with significant variations. Several scholars have suggested that the lack of poetic re-composition is due to a hypersensitivity to 
11 See Wintemitz, 239-248 and Rahula, 6-13. The "unique sections" are very interesting because it has not been detennined if they were from other parts of the canon or original compositions. 
the sacredness of the source material. This hypothesis is compatible with the supposition that the authors of the Mahiivastu wanted to appeal to canonicity. The canonical material is naturally the most sacred. and was not to be tampered with. It is also possible that the authors wanted their audience to be able to readily identify the various sections as belonging to the canon, thus strengthening the canonical authority of the Mahiivastu. 
These biographical stories were used in the Mahiivastu in the same way as other canonical texts: as tools to establish buddhavacana and canonicity. The Mahavastu uses narrative frames on several levels. On the macroscopic level, there are frames for entire sections. The clearest and most interesting example is from the beginning of the section on the Ten Stages of a bodhisattva. This section is particularly significant because the idea of the Ten Stages is arguably the most non-canonical part of the Mahiivastu (at least from the viewpoint of the Pali canon); and clearly composed by the authors of the Mahavastu (as opposed to borrowing from other texts). Therefore, it was ofutmost importance for the authors to establish the canonicity of this section. To do this. the authors composed the longest and most elaborate narrative frame of the entire Mahiivastu. This frame tells the story of the Buddha's parinirvana. narrated from the perspective of Maha-Kasyapa, one of the Buddha's great disciples (Jones 1949, 53-61). It starts with Maha-Kasyapa perceiving that the Buddha had passed away because of an earthquake omen. Maha-Kasyapa rushes to the funeral and pays his respects. Then the body is bumed.12 Immediately after this, Maha-Kasyapa draws together the First Council. of which he is traditionally considered to be the leader. After the recitation of the "dharma" (presumably the siitras). Maha-Kasyapa asks Maha-Katyayana to recite the section on the Ten Stages. The former states: 
Tell me now the manner of the transitions from bhumi [stage] to bhumi, and how the glorious Bodhisattvas lapse as they pass from one life to another. And how do these choice beings advance? This tell me. And say what their dispositions are. How do they who are endued [sic] with the essence of being convert beings? How do they give alms? All this explain to me. Do you, who have seen Buddhas and can speak with charm. tell me their names and origin. (Jones 1949. 60) 
This narrative frame appeals to canonicity on many different levels. First, Maha-Katyayana. who has "seen Buddhas" and plays such a prominent role at 
" Up to this point the story is pretty much the same as other versions. After that, however, it is completely different. The Mahaparini11,ana-slltra is the most important source for this story. 
this version of the First Council, is himself an authority. 13 In fact, all five hundred monks at the First Council were arhats or liberated saints, and therefore authorities on the Buddha' s teachings (dharma). Their liberated knowledge and experience of hearing the dharma from the Buddha himself satisfy both conditions quoted above for buddhavacana. That is why everything spoken at the First Council is prima facie canonical. Here, the Mahiivastu is part of that recitation. Not only that, but the Mahiivastu is the second recitation, after the dharma or siitras. According to tradition, the second recitation at the First Council was the Vinaya-pitaka. The Mahiivastu is, in a sense, the whole vinaya, or at least the most important ''first book of the Vinaya of the Lokottaravadins," to quote Dutt again. 
It should also be noted that the account of the First Council is usually found in vinaya texts. In the Pali canon, it is found in the Cullavagga of the Vinaya-pifaka, a text closely related to the Mahiivagga. The latter text, as pointed out above, is very similar to the Mahiivastu. So the Mahiivastu's target audience probably would not have found an account of the First Council introducing this text out of place. 
There are many other minor details that tell us interesting things about the Mahiivastu and its authors, for there is little doubt that they composed this narrative frame. We find, for instance, this curious scene with Maha-Kasyapa giving the various saints jobs to do before the recitation of the Ten Stages: 
To the holy Pralambabahu Kasyapa said, "Create at once an arena on the summit of Mount Gridhrakuta. Eighteen thousand have come together for the assembly. Call up your magic power to scrutinize them all." ... To the holy man named Haryaksha, Kasyapa said, ''O son of the Sugata [Buddha], quickly exert your concentration to prevent the goods of householders being lost." To the holy man Varuna Kasyapa said, '"Keep away from men baneful flies and gnats." (Jones 1949, 59) 
This short passage raises important questions; for example, were there more than just the five hundred saints at the First Council, perhaps also householders? Does the ''eighteen thousand" refer to the eighteen thousand at the Great Assembly (mahiisiimghika) at which the Mahiisiimghika sect was formed? I won't explore these questions here, but this example shows the 
13 It would be interesting to see how Mahii-Kiityayana is portrayed in the other sections of the Mahiisiimghika canon that survives. 
myriad ways that the Mahavastu's narrative frames interact with tradition, and ultimately other texts, in order to establish some sort of canonicity. 
The Mahavastu also uses biographical stories to justify statements within a particular section, similar to the Siitra-Vibhanga or Cariya-pifaka discussed above. For example, in the "Siitra on the Many Buddhas," a section before the Ten Stages section, the Buddha describes another scheme for understanding the path of the bodhisattva: "the four stages in the careers of bodhisattvas" (Jones 1949, 39-46). After briefly naming the four stages, the Buddha tells a series of stories, in chronological order, about the various buddhas that he worshipped, and to whom he made the bodhisattva vow. Each of these buddhas are associated with one of the four stages. The biographical stories illustrate and authenticate the general scheme of "the four stages in the careers of bodhisattvas" by tying them to specific events in the past lives of the Buddha (and, significantly, the lives of other buddhas). Without these biographical stories, the scheme would presumably lose its claim to canonicity, like the Pratimok!fa of the Szitra-Vibhanga. 
The same pattern is found in the Ten Stages section, sometimes quite clearly, and at other times much less so. One clear example is in the Seventh Stage. After a brief description of bodhisattvas who do not lapse on the path, Maha-Katyayana tells a series of five jataka tales. Following this, Maha­Katyayana declares that these stories described "some of the hundred thousand difficult acts of body, speech and thought which are performed by Bodhisattvas who do not lapse" (Jones 1949, 105). Here there is a clear link between the jataka tales and the description of bodhisattvas who do not lapse on the path. The former authorizes and shows examples of the latter. Once again, by tying the general rule to biographical stories of the Buddha, the general rule shares the canonicity of the story. 
But there are also times where the connection between rule and story is not very clear. In the Third Stage, for example, after describing the miracles that take place after the declaration of a bodhisattva vow, a deva-bodhisattva recites a hymn of praise containing a short version of the birth of the Buddha in his last life. It is unclear how the birth and the teaching about the bodhisattva vow and miracles are connected, especially because the miracles surrounding the birth are different. Perhaps it does not serve a function in establishing canonicity, but rather has an aesthetic or poetic function. This again illustrates the myriad, sometimes confusing ways in which biographical material is presented in the Mahavastu. What is clear, however, is that biographical stories are often used to justify a general rule. 
The last way in which biographical stories are used to communicate and authenticate teachings is through the story itself. In this case the story is not authenticating any external description or rule; it simply functions as a didactic story that teaches proper conduct. Often these mini-teachings have nothing to do with the greater theme of the section. They teach proper conduct in a number of different areas, such as advice for universal kings, the ··five obligations of a Buddha," the "ten right ways of behavior," or the various ways to worship a buddha (Jones 1949, 39-46). Since these mini-teachings are presented as the actual actions of the Buddha in his past lives, they need no outside authentication; they are, in fact, already canonical. The authors of the Mahavastu were able to exploit the canonical status of these stories to teach various aspects of the path of the bodhisattvayana. It remains to be determined whether it is possible to trace any changes made to these stories by the authors of the Mahavastu. Perhaps in the process of borrowing them from the broader canon, the authors changed them in some way. Unfortunately, a detailed comparison of the Mahavastu with the canon has not yet been done. 
These are some of the many ways that the Mahavastu utilizes biographical material to teach the path of the bodhisattva. Much more work is needed on this topic, but I have shown that the Mahavastu is not as chaotic as others have thought. The authors of the Mahavastu had specific intentions when they composed the Mahavastu. I tried to explore one of these, namely that the Mahavastu' s authors wanted their text to be accepted as a canonical vinaya text. This discussion brings up some very interesting questions about the emergence of the bodhisattvayana, both as a teaching and a social movement. There is an emerging view among scholars that the bodhisattvayana originated within monastic communities, spearheaded by monks, as opposed to a lay-dominated "reformation." The Mahavastu certainly agrees with this hypothesis. There is no doubt that it was composed by monks, who were the only ones who had such a detailed knowledge of the canon. It was probably composed by so-called vinaya-dharas, the keepers and transmitters of the Vinaya-pifaka. IfI am correct in my interpretation, then the Mahavastu may be some sort of "missing link," a bodhisattvayana text within a sravakayana sect. There are many possible reasons for its composition by sravakayana monks. The Mahavastu may have been composed by monks before the Mahayana split off as a distinct social group, which happened around the same time ( c. 5th century CE). Or the Mahavastu may have been a reaction to the proliferation of Mahayana-siitras. As the popularity of the bodhisattvayana increased, perhaps the sravakayana monks felt pressure to respond to interest in bodhisattvayana teachings, whether from monks or laymen. Once the Mahayana became a distinct social group, the older sects may have started to lose patronage by bodhisattvayana adherents who were previously still within the fold. Perhaps the Mahavastu was an attempt to create a canonical text that would satisfy those practitioners that followed the 
bodhisattvayana, and keep them within the sect, for both religious and economic reasons. Answers to these questions have plagued Buddhist scholars for decades, and they won't be answered any time soon. However, this study has contributed to our understanding by showing that texts like the Mahavastu, which were dismissed because of the dominance of taxonomic categories like Hinayana, Mahayana, or vinaya, have much to teach scholars about the emergence of the bodhisattvayana. 
84 JUSTIN FIFIELD 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Beal, Samuel. 1985. The Romantic Legend ofSiikya Buddha: A Translation ofthe Chinese Version ofthe Abhini~kramanasiitra. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Cowell. E. B. and R. A. Neil. 1886. The Divyiivadiina: A Collection ofEarZv Buddhist 
Legends. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Dutt, Nalinaksha. 1998. Buddhist Sects. India: Motilal Banarsidass. Hirakawa. Akira. 1970. A Study ofthe Vinaya Pifaka. Tokyo: Sankibo-Busshorin. Jones. J. J. 1949. The Mahiivastu. London: Luzac & Company. Lamotte, Etienne. 1988. History ofIndian Buddhism. Translated by Sara Webb-Boin. 
Louvain-La-Neuve: Institut Orientaliste de Louvain. Law. B. C. 1938. Buddhaviimfo: the Lineage ofthe Buddhas and Car(vii-pitaka or the collection ofways ofconduct. London: H. Milford. Rahula. Bhikkhu Telwatte. 1978. A Critical Study ofthe Mahiivastu. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Roth. Gustav. 1970. Bhik~unl-Vinaya: Including Bhik~1ml-Praklrnaka and a Summary of the BhikSu-Praklrnaka of the Arya-Mahiisiimghika-Lokottaraviidin. Patna: K. 
P. Jayaswal Research Institute. Windisch. 1909. ''Die Komposition des Mahavastu." Abhandlungen der philo/og-hist. 
Klasse d. K. siichsischen Gesellschaft d. Wissenschaften 24(14): 469. Wintemitz. M. 1971. A History ofIndian Literature. New York: Russell & Russell. Woodward. Mark R. 1997 ...The Biographical Imperative in Theravada Buddhism." In 
Sacred Biography in the Buddhist Traditions ofSouth and Southeast Asia, edited by Juliane Schober, 40-63. Hawaii: University of Hawaii Press. 
A Bibliography of Death and Dying in Ancient Indian Religions 
MATTHEW R. SAYERS 
THE UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS AT AUSTIN 

I compiled this bibliography while preparing to teach a class entitled Death and Dying in Indian Religions. In this course, I sought to introduce undergraduates to the basic concepts relevant to life and death, and the process of dying and rebirth. I included surveys on death and dying related to several cultures. My dissertation, at the time of its genesis, involved comparing Buddhist and Hindu notions of the afterlife, and I had a keen interest in commemoration of the dead, the frclddha ritual, and the city of Gaya. These areas in particular, and ancient Hinduism and Buddhism in general, are well-represented here. 
This bibliography will be most useful to people interested in a cross­cultural perspective on issues related to death. Additionally, I have included sources which reflect a variety of disciplinary approaches to the issue of death, including anthropology, literature, and medicine. Of these, Humphreys, Huntington and Metcalf, and Reynolds and Earle stand out as excellent anthologies. I have also included several books on general issues of Hinduism-such as the Purai:ias and rituals-to compliment more detailed studies. These will be most useful to those seeking to familiarize themselves with general trends in Hinduism or to introduce students to the basic concepts needed to understand responses to death in Hinduism. 
Sources related to my research present a more focused approach. My interest lay in comparing Hindu and Buddhist ideas and practices in dealing with death. I chose to focus on two cities, Gaya and Bodh Gaya, in order to compare two cities that are geographically close to one another, but are associated with different traditions. Several books address how these two traditions influenced one another; Barua's Gayll and Bodh-gayll: Early History ofthe Holy Land offers a good starting point. Because both cities are popular pilgrimage sites, I have included several general sources on pilgrimage, a few on death and pilgrimage, and a handful on these two particular pilgrimages. 
Few scholars have written on the §raddha ritual exclusively. It is mentioned in sources on religious ritual or death, but works on the ritual itself are scarce. Kane's History of Dharma§astra includes some details necessary for exploring §raddha, but the most useful resource are the primary sources. I have included those Purai:ias which address §raddha in the greatest detail. 
Another important topic is the commemoration of the dead. I have included sources on commemoration through literature, architectural memorials, and ritual traditions that keep the memory of the deceased alive. Each of these has been placed in a separate sub-heading below. Settar and Sontheimer's Memorial Stones is an invaluable resource on hero-stones, an understudied phenomenon in South Asia. 
Turning to physical monuments, I recognize the significance of the stapa as a symbol of death, life, and the conquering of death. Here I include many sources on the role of the stilpa in early Buddhism. For further resources on Buddhism, Strong's comprehensive bibliography is an excellent resource. 
Archaeological works from ancient India are frequently overlooked, but they are the only physical evidence available to scholars of religious practice to determine what ancient Indians-Buddhist or Hindu-actually did. Inscriptions are likewise an invaluable resource and reveal a surprising amount of material on the thoughts of the donee about the afterlife and how one should commemorate the dead. 
The popularity and fame of the Tibetan Book of the Dead led to my inclusion of sources on Tibetan Buddhism. I have not listed the various translations of the book, since these are easily located; instead, the sources I include illuminate many aspects ofthe Tibetan practices concerning death. 
Because my course involved introductory material, the sources included below which do not deal with my dissertation topic are, for the most part, introductory. I excluded some topics altogether. For example, although the issue ofsatf is a major topic of interest in death and dying, I have only given a few related sources here. 
1. 
Primary Sources 

2. 
Archaeology and Epigraphy 

3. 
General Death and Dying 4 Vedic and Brahmanical Hinduism 


4.1. General Background 
4.2. Purar:iic Studies 
4.3. Pilgrimage 
4.4. Aging and Dying 
4.5. Death 
4.6. Death -Ritual and Funeral 
4.7. Commemoration of the Dead-Ancestor Worship 
4.8. Commemoration of the Dead -Memorials 
4.9. 
Gaya 5 Buddhism 

5.1. 
General Background 


5.2. Death 
5.3. Relics 
5.4. The Stiipa 
5.5. Bodh Gaya 
5.6. Tibetan Buddhism 
I. PRIMARY SOURCES 
Chhabra. Bahadurchand. Govind Swamirao Gai. eds. 1981. Corpus lnscriptionum lndicarum: Volume fl! Inscriptions ofthe Early Gupta Kings. Revised by Devatta Ramakrislma Bhandarkar. New Delhi: Archaeological Survey of India. 
Eggling. Julius. trans. 1882. 1885. 1894. 1897. 1900. The Satapatha-Brclhmana According to the Text ofthe Madhyandina School. In Sacred Books of the East. Volumes 12. 26. 41. 43. 44. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Fleet. Jolm Faithfull. 1970. Corpus lnscriptionum lndicarum: Volume fl! Inscriptions of the EarZv Gutpa Kings and Their Successors. Varanasi: Indological Book House. 
Gangadharan. N. 1972. Garuda Purana-A Study. Varanasi: All India Kashiraj Trust. Garudapuranam. 1968. Translated by Manmatha Nath Dutt Shastri. Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series Office. Harivam§a Purcl(w: Volume One Chapters 1-25. 2005. Translated by Blumupati Dasa. Edited by Pun:iaprafia Dasa. Vri.ndavan: Rasbihari Lal and Sons. 
I-Tsing. 1966. A Record ofThe Buddhist Religion as Practiced in India and the Malay Archipelago (A. D. 671-695). Translated by J. Takakusu. Dellu: Munshiram Manoharlal. 
Jacques, Claude. 1962. Gaya Mahatmya. Pondichery: Institut Frarn;ais d' Indologie. Masefield, Peter. 1994-5. The Udana Commentary. 2 vols. Oxford: Pali Text Society. Matsya Puranam. 1916. Translated by a Taluqar ofOudh. Allahabad: Indian Press. "Petavatthu: Stories of the Departed." 1998. In Minor Anthologies ofthe Pali Canon. 
translated by G. H. Gehman. Vol. 30, part 4. Oxford: Pali Text Society. 
Salomon, Richard, ed. 1985. The Bridge to the Three Ho~v Cities: The Samanya­pragha!faka ofNarayai:za Bha!!a 's Tristha!Isetu. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Subragalavi/asinl: Buddhaghosa's Commentary on the Dlgha Nikaya. 1971. 2nd ed. 3 
vols. Edited by William Stede. London: Pali Text Society. 
Tagare, G. V., trans. 1988. The Vayu Purai:za. Two Parts. In Ancient Indian Tradition and Mythology, Volume 38. Edited by G. P. Bhatt. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. Thaplyal, Kiran Kumar. 1985. Inscriptions of the Maukharls, Later Guptas, 
Pu~pabh1~tis and Y afovarman ofKanauj. Delhi: Agam Prakashan. Vayupuranam. 1987. Translated and Annotated by G. V. Tagare. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass. 
2. ARCHAEOLOGY AND EPIGRAPHY 
Broadly, A. M. 1979. The Buddhistic Remains ofBihar. Varanasi: Bharati Prakashan. Burgess, J.A.S. 1964. Archaeological Survey ofIndia, Vol. IV: Report on the Buddhist Cave Temples and Their Inscriptions. Varansi: Indological Book House. Choudary, P. C. Roy. 1965 . Temples and Legends ofBihar. Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan. 
Cunningham, Alexander. 1969. Archaeological Survey ofIndia Vol. XV: Report ofA Tour in Bihar and Bengal in 1879-80 from Patna to Sunargaon. Delhi: Indological Book House. 
---. 1969. Archaeological Survey of India Vol. XVI: Report of A Tour in North and South Bihar in 1880--81 . Delhi: Indological Book House. Kumar. Nagendra. 1971. Images of Patna (A Supplement to Patna District Gazeteer, 
1970). Patna: Government ofBihar, Gazeteers Branch, Revenue Department. Mitra, Debala. 1971. Buddhist Monuments. Calcutta: Sahitya Samsad. O'Malley, L.S.S. [1927] 1979. Bengal, Bihm·, Orissa & Sikkim. New Delhi: Ess Ess 
Publications. Ray, S. C. 1987. "Evolution of Hindu-Buddhist art in the Gangetic Valley: A Study on the Basis of Stratigraphic Evidence of Archaeological Excavations." In 
Investigating Indian Art (Proceedings of a Symposium on the Development of Ear~v Buddhist and Hindu Iconography Held at the Museum ofIndian Art Berlin in May 1986), 273-90. Berlin: Museum ftir Indische Km1st. 
Roy Chaudury, P. C., 1957. Bihar District Gazeteers: Volume 3 Gaya. Patna: Secretariat Press. 
Salomon, Richard. 1998. Indian Epigraphy: A Guide to the Study of Inscriptions in Sanskrit, Prakrit, and the Other Indo-Ar·yan languages. New York: Oxford University Press. 
Sinha, Bindeshwari Prasad. 1991. ··nm Earliest Buddhist Stlipas and Railings." The Indian Journal ofBuddhist Studies 3(2): 1-7. 
3. GENERAL DEATH AND DYfNG 
Aries. Phillippe. 1974. Western Attitudes toivard Death: From the Middle Ages to the Present. Translated by. Patricia M. Ranum. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. 
--. 1981. The Hour of Our Death. Translated by Helen Weaver. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Berger. Peter. 1967. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. Garden City, New Jersey: Doubleday. Bloch. Maurice and Jonathan Parry. 1982. Death and the Regeneration of life. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
Bowker. John. 1991. The Meaning ofDeath. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
Collins. Jolm J. and Michael Fishbane. eds. 1995. Death, Ecstasy, and Other Worldly Journeys. Albany: State University of New York Press. Cormack. Margaret, ed. 2002. Sacrificing the Self Perspectives on Martyrdom and Religion. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Coward. Harold, ed. 1997. Life after Death in World Religions. Maryl.moll. N.Y.: 
Orbis Books. Eliade. Mircea. 1954. The Myth ofthe Eternal Return. New York: Pantheon Books. --. 1974. Death, Afterlife, and Eschatology. New York: Harper and Row. Garces-Foley, Kathleen. ed. 2005. Death and Religion in a Changing World. Armonk. 
N.Y.: ME Sharpe. 
Goody. J. 1971. "'Death and the Interpretation of Culture: A Bibliographic Overview." In Death in America, edited by D. Stannard, 1-8. Philadelphia: University of Pe1msylvania Press. 
Goss. Robert E. and Dennis Klass. 2005. Dead but Not Lost: Grief Narratives in Religious Traditions. New York: Alta Mira Press. Henderson, Joseph L. and Maud Oakes. 1963. The Wisdom ofthe Serpent: The Myths ofDeath, Rebirth, and Resurrection. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 
Hertz. Robert. 1960. "A Contribution to the Study of Collective Representations of Death." In Death and the Right Hand. translated by Rodney and Claudia Needham. 27-86. Glencoe: Free Press. 
Holck, Frederick H .. ed. 1974. Death and Eastern Thought. Ashville: Abington Press. 
Holt, J. 1981. "Assisting the Dead by Venerating the Living." Numen 28: 1-28. 
Humphreys, S.C and Helen King. 1981. Mortality and Immortality: The Anthropology and Archaeology ofDeath. London: Academic Press. Huntington, Richard and Peter Metcalf. 1991. Celebrations of Death. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kauffman, Jeffery. 1995. Awareness of Mortality. Amityville: Baywood Publishing Company. Kramer, Kenneth Paul. 1988. The Sacred Art of Dying: How World Religions Understand Death. New York: Paulis! Press. Ma'sumian, Famaz. 1996. Life After Death: A Study of the Afterlife in World Religions. Oxford: Oneworld. Obayashi, Hiroshi, ed. 1992. Death and Afterlife: Perspectives on World Religions. New York: Greenwood Press. 
Reynolds, Frank E. and Earle H. Waugh, eds. 1973. Religious Encounters with Death: Insights from the History and Anthropology of Religions. University Park: T11e Pennsylvania State University Press. 
Robben, Antonius C.G.M., ed. 2004. Death, Mourning, and Burial: A Cross-Cultural Reader. Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing. 
Spiro, Howard M., Mary G. McCrea Curnen, and Lee Palmer Wandel, eds. 1996. Facing Death: Where Culture, Religion and Medicine Meet. New Haven: Yale University Press. 
4. VEDIC AND BRAHMANICAL HINDUISM 
4.1. General Background 
Apte, V. M. 1954. Social Religious Life in the Grhyas1~tras. Bombay: Popular Book Depot. Abbott, John. 1932. The Keys ofPower: A Study ofIndian Ritual and Belief London: Methuen. Bhandarkar, R. G. 1929. Collected Works of Sir R. G. Bhandarkar Vol. JV. Poona: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Insititute. Bhattacarya, Narendra Nath. 1975. Ancient Indian Rituals and Their Social Contents. Delltl: Manohar Book Service. Carman, John Band Frederique Apffel Marglin. eds. 1985. Purity and Auspiciousness. Leiden: E.J. Brill. 
Coward, Howard G, Julius J. Lipner, and Katherine K. Yotmg, eds. 1989. Hindu Ethics: Purity, Abortion, and Euthanasia. Albany: State University of New York Press. 
Duncan, Jonathan. 1808. "An Account of the Discovery ofTwo Ums in the Vicinity of Benares." Asiatic Researches 5: 131-132. 
Eck. Diana L. 1983. Banaras: City ofLight. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 
Ewing. A.H. 1901. "111e Hindu Conception of the Functions of the Breath." Journal of the American Oriental Society 22: 251-308. Gl10se. Nagendranath. 1937. The Aryan Trail in Iran and India: A naturalistic study of the Vedic Hymns and the Avesta. Calcutta: University of Calcutta. Jaiswal. Suvira. 1981. Origins and Development of Vais(wvism: VaiJ(lavism from 200 BC to AD 500. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers. Kane. P.V. 1968. History of Dharma§tistra. 5 Volumes. Poona: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute. Marriot. McKim. 1990. India Through Hindu Catagories. Newbury Park: Sage. 
Nath. Rai Bahadur Lala Baij. 1905. Hinduism: Ancient and Modern as Taught in Original Sources and Illustrated in Practical Life. Meerut: Vaishya Hitkari Office. 
O'Flaherty. Wendy Doniger. ed. 1976. The Origins of Evil in Hindu Mythology. Berkeley: University of California Press. --. 1980. Karma and Rebirth in Classical Indian Traditions. Berkeley: University ofCalifomia Press. Vidyarthi. Lalita Prasad. 1960. "Thinking about a Holy City." Eastern Anthropologist 13(4): 203-14. Stevenson. Sinclair. 1920. The Rites of the TH'ice-born. London: Humphrey Milford/Oxford University Press. 
4.2. P11rcl(1ic Studies 
Abegg. Emil. 1956. Der Pretakalpa des Garu~la-Purti(w: Eine Darstellung des 
hinduistischen Totenkultes end Jenseitsglaubens. Berlin: Welter De Gruyter. 
Arya. Sharda. 1988. Religion and Philosophy of the Padma-P11rc'i(1a. Delhi: Nag 

Publishers. Dange. Sindhu S. 1984. The Bhtigavata Purti(ia: Mytho-Social Study. New Delhi: Ajanta Publications. 
Desai. Nileshvari Y. 1968. Ancient Indian Society, Religion and Mythology as Depicted in the Mtirke11cfeya-Purti11a (A Critical Study). Baroda: 111e M. S. University of Baroda. 
Hazra. R.C. 1940. P11rti(1ic Records on Hindu Rites and Customs. Calcutta: The 
University of Dacca. 
Rocher. Ludo. 1986. The Purc/nas. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrasowtiz. 
Saraswat. Satya Swamp. 1989. The Philosophy of The Ethical Religion of The Vi,mu Purti(w. Delhi: hldological Book House. Shah. Priyabala. 1999. Vishnudharmottara-Purana: Pauranic Legends and Rebirths. Delhi: Parimal Publications. l11ompson. Richard L. 2000. Mysteries ofthe Sacred Universe: The Cosmology ofthe Bhtigavata Purtil}a. Alachua. Florida: Govardhan Hill Publishing. 

4.3. Pilgrimage 
Bhardwaj, Surinder Mohan. 1973. Hindu Places of Pilgrimage: A Study in Cultural Geography. Berkeley: University of California Press. Bharati, Agehananda. 1963. "Pilgrimage in the Indian Tradition." History ofReligions 3(1): 135-167. Eck, Diana L. 1981. "India's Tirthas: 'Crossings' in Sacred Geography." History of Religions 20(4): 323-344. Gold, Ann Grodzins. 1988. Fruitful Journeys: The Ways of Rajasthani Pilgrims. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Justice, Christopher. 1997. Dying the Good Death: The Pilgrimage to Die in India's Holy City. Albany: State University of New York Press. Saraswati, Baidyanath. 1983. Traditions of Tirthas in India: The Anthropology of Hindu Pilgrimage. Varanasi: Bose Memorial Institute. Turner, Victor. 1975. "Death and the Dead in the Pilgrimage Process." In Religion and Social Change in Southern Africa, edited by M. West and M. Whisson, 107-27 Cape Town: David Phillip. 
4.4. Aging and Dying 
Lamb, Sarah. 1997. ''The Making and Unmaking of Persons: Notes on Aging and Gender in North India." Ethos 25(3): 279-302. ---. 2000. White Saris and Sweet Mangos: Aging, Gender, and Body in North India. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tilak, Shrinivas. 1989. Religion and Aging in the Indian Tradition. Albany: State University of New York. 
4.5. Death 
Abhedanda, Swami. 1996. The Mystery of Death: A Study in the Philosophy and Religion ofthe Katha Upan~ad. Calcutta: Ramakrishna Vedanta Math. Arbmann, E. 1927. "Tod und Unsterblichkeit in Vedischen Glauben." Archiv fur Religionswissenschaft 25: 339-387. Bodewitz, H. W. 1982. "The 'Marriage' of Heaven and Earth (JB. l, 145-146; PB. 7. 10, 1-9; AB. 4, 27, 5-10)." Wiener Zeitschriftfur die Kunde Sudasiens 26: 23­
36. ---. 1985. ·'Yama's Second Boon in the Katha Upanisad." Wiener Zeitschrift fur die Kunde Sudasiens 29: 5-26. 
---. 1986. "Prana. Apana and other Pranas in Vedic Literature." Adyar Library Bulletin 50: 326--48. 
--. 1986. "The Cosmic. Cyclical Dying (parimara): Aitreya Brahmana 8.28 and Kausitaki Upanishad 2.11-12." In Sanskrit and World Culture. edited by W. Morgemoth. Schriften zur Geschichte lUld Kultur des alten Orients 18. 438-43. Berlin: Akademie Verlag. 
--. 1986. "Reaching Inunortality According to the First anuvaka of the Jaiminl1ya-Upa11i~ad-Brf1hma~a." In Dr. B.R. Sharma Felicitation Volume (Tirupati). 32-42 [of the English section]. --. 1991. Light, Soul and Visions in the Veda. Poona: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute (P.D. Gtme Memorial Lectures. Fifth Series). --. 1994. "Life after Death in the B.gvedasa'Tlllita." Wiener Zeitschrift fur die Kunde Sudasiens (Festschrift Gerhard Oberhanuner) 38: 23-41. --.1996 "Redeath and its Relation to Rebirth and Release." Studien zur lndologie und lranistik 20: 27-46. --. 1996. "The pancagnividya and the Pitryana/Devayana." In Studies in Indology: Professor Mukunda Madhava Sharma Felicitation Volume. edited by 
A.A. Goswanli and D. Chutia, 51-57. Dellli: Sri Satguru Publications. --. 1998. "Tirn Hindu Doctrine of Transmigration: its Origin and Backgrolllld." 
JT(Professor Gregory M. Bongard-Levin Felicitation Voltm1e) 23-24: 583-605. --. 1999. "Yonder World in the Atharvaveda." lndo-lranian Journal 42: 107­
20. --. 1999. "Pits. Pitfalls and the Underworld in the Veda." Inda-Iranian Journal 
42: 211-26. --.2000. "Distance and Death in the Veda." Asiatische Studien 54: 103-117. --. 2000. "Classifications and Yonder World in the Veda." Wiener Zeitschrift 
fur die Kunde Sudasiens 44: 19-59. 
--. 2002. "111e Dark and Deep Underworld in the Veda." Journal of the American Oriental Society 122.2 (Special Issue: Indic and Iranian Studies in Honor of Stanley Insler on his Sixty-fifth Birthday): 213-223. 
Brown. W. Nomian. 1941. "The Rigvedic Equivalent for Hell." Journal of the 
American Oriental Society 61(2): 76-80. Caland. Will1elm. 1893. Altindischer Ahnencult. Leiden: Brill. --. 1896. Die Altindischen Todten-und Destattungsgebriiuche mil Benutzang 
Handschritlicher Quellen. Amsterdam: Johannes MUiler. Campell. A. 1916. "Death and Cremation Ceremonies among the Santals." Journal of the Bihar and Orissa Research Society 2: 449-456. Chattopadhyaya. Kshatresachandra. 1937. ''Religious Suicide at Prayag." Journal of the U.P. Historical Society 10: 65-79. Clark-Deces. Isabelle. 2005. No One Cries for the Dead: Tamil Dirges, Rowdy Songs, and Graveyard Petitions. Berkeley: University of California Press. 
94 MATTHEW R . SAYERS 
Das, Veena. 1986. "The Work of Mourning: Death in a Punjabi Family." ln The Cultural Transition, edited by M. I. White and S. Pollack, 179-210. Boston: Routledge and Kegan Paul. 
Dhavamony, Mariasusai. 1982. ''The Meaning of Death in Hinduism." St11dia Missionalia 3l: 325-366. 
Dogra, Suresh. 1983. "Death and Suffering in Hinduism." ln The Problem ofDeath & Suffering in Indian Religions, edited by Clarence 0. McMullen, 20-24. Delhi: Lithouse Publishing. 
Edgerton, F. 1927. "TI1e Hour of Death." Annals ofthe Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute 8: 219-249. Filippi, Gian Giuseppe. 1996. Mrtyu: Concept of Death in Indian Traditions: Transformations ofthe Body and Funeral Rites. New Delhi: D. K. Pri.ntworld. 
Filliozet, Pierre. 1989. ''The After-death Destiny of the Hero According to the Mahabarata." hi Criminal Gods and Demon Devotees: Essays on the G11ardians ofPopular Hinduism, edited by Alf Hiltebeitel, 3-8. Albany: State University of New York Press. 
Freed, Ruth S., and Stanley A. Freed. 1993. Ghosts: Life and Death in North India, Anthropological Papers ofthe American M11seum ofNatural History 72. Seattle: Uuiversity of Washington Press. 
von Furer-Haimendorf, Christopher. 1952. "The After-Life in lndian Tribal Belief.'' Journal ofthe Royal Anthropological Institute ofGreat Britain and Ireland 83.1 : 37-49. 
Ghosh, Shyam. 2002. Hindu Concept of Life and Death As Portrayed in Vedas, Briihmm:ias, Ara~1yakas, Upai:ii~ads, Smrtis, Purii~ws, and Epics. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal. 
Goudriaan, Teun. 1983. "Some Beliefs and Rituals Concerning Time and Death in Kubjikamata." In Selected Studies on Rit11al in the Indian Religions: Vo/11me XLV Essays to D. J. Hoens , 92-117. Leiden: E. J. Brill. 
Griffiths. J. Gwyn. 1991. The Divine Verdict: A St11dy of Divine Judgment in the Ancient Religions. Leiden: E. J. Brill. Hillebrandt, Alfred. 1879. Das altindische Neu-und Vollmondsopfer in seiner einfachsten Form. Jena: G. Fischer. Hopkins, Thomas J. 1992. "Hindu Views of Death and Afterlife." In Death and Afterlife, edited by Hiroshi Obayashi, 143-155. New York: Greenwood. Jarow, E. H. Rick. 2003. Tales for the Dying: The Death Narrative ofthe Bhagavata­Purana. Albany: State Uuiversity of New York Press. Kapp, Dieter B. 1982. "111e Concept of Yama in the Religion of a Soutl1 lndian Tribe." Journal ofthe American Oriental Society 102(3): 517-521. 
Kinsley, D. R. 1977. " 'The Death that Conquers Death:' Dying to the World in Medieval Hinduism." In Religious Encounters with Death: Insights from the History and Anthropology of Religion. edited by E. Reynolds and E. H. Waugh. 97-108. University Park. PA and London: Pem1sylvania State University Press. Knipe. David. 1989. "Night of the Growing Dead." In Criminal Gods and Demon Devotees: essays on the guardians of popular Hinduism, edited by Alf Hiltebeitel. 123-56. Albany: State University of New York Press. Kolenda. Pauline Mahar. 1964. "Religious Anxiety and Hindu Fate." Journal ofAsian Studies 23 : 71-81. Kumar. Pramod. 1984. Moksha: The Ultimate Goal ofIndian Philosophy. Ghaziabad: ludo-vision. Kump. A. M. 1963 "Calling Back the Dead among the Korkus.'' Folklore (Ca/cul/a) 4(3): 73-78. Levin. M. 1930. "Mummification and Cremation in India." Man 30: 29-34. 44-48. 64-66. Lincoh1. Bruce. 1991. Death, War, and Sacrifice: Studies in Ideology and Practice. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lopez. Carlos. 1997. "Food and lnlmortality in the Veda." Electronic Journal ofVedic Studies. Malamoud. Charles. 1982. "Mort sans visage.'' In La Mort, !es morts dans !es societes anciennes. edited by G. Gnoli and J.-P. Vemant. 441-53. Paris: Cambridge University Press and Editions de la Maison des Sciences de l'Homme. --. 1983. "The Theology of Debt in Brahmanism.'' In Debt and Ancestors. 21-24. Delhi: Vikas Publishing House. McMullen. Clarence 0. 1983. The Problem ofDeath & Suffering in Indian Religions. Delhi: Lithouse Publications. Merh. Kusum P. 1996. Yama: The Glorious Lord ofthe Other World. New Delhi: D. 
K. Printworld. Mills. J.P. 1938. "Lhota Naga 'Apotia' Death.'' Journal ofthe Royal Anthropological Institute ofGreat Britain and Ireland 1: 23-27. Mimer. Murray. Jr. 1993. "Hindu Eschatology and the Indian Caste System: An 
Example of Structural Reversal." Journal ofAsian Studies 52(2): 298-319. 
Modaelli. M. E. 1947. Mrtis al/a cul/a def 'umanafamiglia. Milano. 
Orenstein. H. 1970. "Death and Kinship in Hinduism: Structural and Fm1ctional Interpretations." American Anthropologist 72(1): 357-377. 
Pandey. V. C. 1983. "Problem of Death and Individual Suffering in Hindu Religion." In The Problem ofDeath & Suffering in Indian Religions. edited by Clarence 0 . McMullen. 1-9. Delhi: Lithouse Publishing. 
Parry. 	Jonathan P. 1980. "Ghosts. Greed and Sin: The Occupational Identity of the Benaras Funeral Priests." Man: The Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute. n.s. 15(1 ): 88-111 . 
---. 1981. ..Death and Cosmogony in Kashi" Contributions to Indian Sociology 15(1-2): 337-365. 
---. 1982. "Sacrificial Death and the Necrophagous Ascetic.'· In Death and the Regeneration of Life, edited by Maurice Bloch and Jonathan Parry. 74-110. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ---. 1985. ··Death and Digestion: The Symbolism of Food and Eating in North Indian Mortuary Rites." Man: The Journal ofthe Royal Anthropological Institute. 
n.s. 20(4): 612-30. 
---. 1989. "The End of the Body." In Fragments for a History ofthe Human Body Part 2, edited by Michel Feher with Ramona Naddaff and Nadia Tazi, 490-517. New York: Zone. 
---. 1994. Death in Banaras. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rhys Davids. Thomas William. 1899. "The Soul in the Upanishads." Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 79-81. Roth, R. 1860...Die Todtenbestattung ini indischen Altertmn.'' Zeitschrift der 
Deutschen Morgen/iindischen Gesellschaft 8: 467. Sarkar, Amal. 1962. "Snake-cult in Indian Religion.'' Modern Review 111(5): 390-94. Sax. William S. 1997. "Fathers. Sons. and Rhinoceroses: Masculinity and Violence in 
the Pandav Lila." Journal ofthe American Oriental Society 117(2): 278-293. Singh, Puroshottam. 1970. Burial Practices in Ancient India: A Study of the Eschatological Beliefs of Ear~v Man as Revealed by Archaeological Sources. 
Varanasi: Prithivi Prakashan. 
Sprockhoff. J. F. 1980. "Die feindlichen Toten und der befriedete Tote." In Leben und Tod in den Religionen. Symbol und Wirklichkeit, edited by Gunther Stephenson. 263-84. Darmstadt: Wiss. Buchgesellschaft. 
Tirnpar, Romila. 1981. "Death and the Hero." In Mortality and Immortality: The Anthropology and Archaeology ofDeath, edited by S. C. Hwnphreys and Helen King, 293-315. London: Academic Press. 
Tiwari, Jagdish Narain. 1979. Disposal of the Dead in the Mahabharata. Varanasi: Kishor Vidya Niketan. 
Trawick, M. 1992 "Death and Nurturance in Indian Systems of Healing." In Paths to Asian Medical Knowledge, edited by Charles Leslie and Allan Young. 129-159. Berkeley: University of California Press. 
Varenne. J. 1961. "Le jugement des morts dans l'Inde, in 'Le jugement des morts.'" Sources Orienta/es IV, edited by Jean Yoyotte, et al. 207-230. Paris: Editions de Seuil. 
Yitebsky, Piers. 1993. Dialogues with the Dead: The Discussion of Mortality among the Sora ofEastern India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 
von Stietencron, Heinrich. 1976. "Vom Tod im Leben und vom Leben in Tod." In Der Mensch und sein Tod: Grundsdtze der drztlichen Sterbebeg/eitung. edited by Johannes Schwartliinder, 146-155. Frankfurt: Lang. 
Wilson. Liz. 1996. Charming Cadavers: Horrific Figurations of the Feminine in Indian Buddhist Hagiographic Literature. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press. ---. ed. 2003. The Living and the Dead: the Social Dimensions ofDeath in South Asian Religions. Albany: State University of New York Press. Wiist. Walther, ed. 1931. Studia lndo-lranica. W. Geiger Festschrift. Leipzig: Otto Harrasowitz. Young. Katherine. 1983 ...Dying for bhukti and mukti: The SrTvai~i:iava Theology of Liberation as a Trimnph over Death." Studies in Religion 12: 389-396. 




4.6. Death -Ritual and Funeral 
Aiyangar. B. N. 1913 ...Funeral Ceremonies." Quarterly Journal ofthe Mythic Society 
4: 13-25. 
Ayyar. 	K. V. Krislma. "Disposal of the Dead: From Exposure to Cremation." Proceedings of the Indian Science Congress, 1960. 47'11 session (pt. III): 507­
508. 
Bayley. C. A. 1981. "From Ritual to Ceremony: Death Ritual and Society in Hindu North India since 1600." In Mirrors ofMortality: Studies in the Social History of Death. edited by Joachim Whaley. 154-86. London: Europa Publications. 
Coomaraswamy. A. K. 1941. "Atmayajna: Self-sacrifice." Harvard Journal ofAsiatic Studies 6: 358-398. Crooke. W. 1900. "Primitive Rites of Disposal of the Dead. with Special Reference to India." Journal ofthe Anthropological lnstitut a/Great Britain 39: 271. Datta. Bhupendra Nath. 1936 ...Vedic Ftmeral Customs and Indus Valley Culture:· Man in India 16: 223-307. Davis. Richard H. 1988 ...Cremation and Liberation: The Revision of a Hindu Ritual." History ofReligions 28(1): 37-53. Donner. 0 . 1870. Das Pi1ujapit!yajiia, Das Manenopfer mit Klassen bei den lndern. Berlin: S. Cavalry and Co. Evison. Gillian. 1989. Indian Death Rituals: The Enactment of Ambivalence. Unpublihsed Ph.D. dissertation. Oxford University. Ghosh. Dipali. 1964. "Post-ftmeral Ritual in a Dimasa Kachari Village." Man in India 44(3): 247-51. Knipe, David. 1977. "Sapindikarana: The Hindu Rite of Entry into Heaven." In 
Religious Encounters ivith Death: Insights from the History and Anthropology of Religions. edited by Frank E. Reynolds and Earle H. Waugh. 111-24. University Park: Pe1msylvania State University Press. 
Krishan. Y. 1985. "The Doctrine of Karma and Sraddhas.'' Annals ofthe Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute 66: 97-115. 
Mitra, Rajandra Liila. 1870. "Funeral Customs of the Ancient Hindus." American Journal ofSociology 52: 309-311. Mines. Diane P. 1990. "Hindu Periods of Death ' Impurity."' In India Through Hindu Categories, edited by McKim Marriott, 103-30. New Delhi: Sage. Mookherjee, Harshanath. 1964. "Short Note on the Funeral Ceremony of the Snatals of Dhuapahari." Bulletin Cultural Research Institute 3(3-4): 45-48. Millier. Klaus-Werner. 1992. Das Brahmanische Totenritual nach der Antye~'fi­paddhati des Niirclya~1abha!!a. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag. Millier. F. Max. 1855. "Uber Totenbestattung und Opfergebrauche im Veda." Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenliindischen Gesselschaft 9: i-lxxxii. 
Nicholas. Ralph W. 1981. "Shraddha. Impurity, and Relations between the Living and the Dead." In Contributions to Indian Sociology New Series 15(1-2): 367-379. Panikar, R. 1973. ··sraddha: Vedic Liturgy for the Dead.'' In Asian Religions-History 
ofReligion. Tallahassee: American Academy of Religion, 22-37. Poudyal, Benna Ghimire, and Binod Ghimire. 1998. Hindu Death Rites (Antyeshti Samskar). Katlunandu: Barsha Ghimire. Prasad. R. C., trans. 1995. The Srclddha: The Hindu Book ofthe Dead. Delhi: Motilal 
Banarsidass. Regnaud, Paul. 1893. ''Le Sraddha Vedique." Revue de l'Histoire des Religions 25: 61. Sand, Erik Reenberg. 1986. ··Tue irclddha (ancestor ritual) according to some 
important Pura1_1as: Some Facts." In South Asian Religions and Society, edited by Asko Parpola and Bent Smidt Hansen, 97-107. London: Curzon Press. Sarkar. Girindra Nath. 1919. ··Birth and Fw1eral Ceremonies an1ong the Hos." Journal ofthe Bihar and Orissa Research Society 5: 134-142. Smith. Brian K. 1996. "Ritual Perfection and Ritual Sabotage in the Veda." History of Religions 35(4): 285-306. Winternitz, M. 1890. ''Notes on Sraddhas and Ancestral Worship." Wiener Zeitschrift fiir die Kunde des Morgenlandes 4(1): 199-212. 

4.7. Commemoration ofthe Dead -Ancestor Worship 
Blackbum, Stuart H. 1985. "Death and Deification: Folk Cults in Hinduism." History ofReligions 24(3): 255-74. 
Coccari. D. 1989. "111e Bir Babas of Banaras and the Deified Dead." In Criminal Gods and Demon Devotees: essays on the guardians ofpopular Hinduism. edited by Alf Hiltebeitel, 251 -269. Albany: State University of New York Press. 
---. 1989. ·'Protection and Identity: Banaras's Bir Babas as Neighborhood Guardian Deities." In Culture and Power in Banaras: Community, Performance, and Environment, 1800--1980, 130-146. Berkeley: University of California Press. 
Crooke. W. 1908. "Ancestor Worship and Cult of the Dead (Indian)." In Encyclopedia ofReligion and Ethics. edited by J. Hastings, 450-54. Vol. I. New York: Scribner. 
Dtm1ont, L. 1983. "The Debt to the Ancestors and the Category of sapinda:' In Debt and Ancestors. 1-19. Delhi: Vikas Publishing House. 
K.rishnamoorthy. K. 1989. "Hero: Death: Commemoration. as Reflected in Sanskrit Literature-A Study." In Criminal Gods and Demon Devotees: Essays on the Guardians of Popular Hinduism. edited by Alf Hiltebeitel. 9-16. Albany: State University of New York Press. Rajalakshmi. C. R. 1962. "On Ancestor Worship among Son Kolis." Bulletin of the Anthropological Survey India 11(2): 81-84. Sarkar. Amal. 1961. "Cult of the Dead." Modern Revie1v 109(2): 140-3. Satyendra. 1960. "Ghost Worship: Mekasur." Folklore (Calcutta) 1(2): 81-85. Shastri. Dakshina Ranjan. 1963. Origin and Development of the Rituals of Ancestor Worship in India. Calcutta: Bookland Private Limited. Surashcandra. Babu. 1940. Le Culte des Ancestres (pitr) dans L 'inde Antiqued 'Apres !es Pur<l~w. Paris: Librairie d'Amerique et d'Orient. Vidyalarpkar. Kailasacandra. 1976. pitr-puja (arya piija-paddhati me1!1 udbhava aur vikas). Delhi: Bharatiya Granth Niketan. 
4.8. Commemoration ofthe Dead-Memorials 
Chattopadhyay. K. P. 1943. "Korku Funeral Customs and Memorial Posts." Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society ofBengal 9: 201-209. Fischer. Eberhard and Haku Shah. 1973. Vetra ne Khambha-Memorials for the Dead. Alunedabad: Gujarat Vidyapith. Ghurye. Govind Sadashiv. 1925. "Fm1erary Monuments in India." Man in India 5: 26-57. Hw1t, E. H. 1916. "Hyderabad Cairns-Their Problems." Journal of Hyderabad Archaeological Society 180-224. ---. 1924. "Hyderabad Cairn burials and their significance." Journal ofthe Royal Anthropological Institute ofGreat Britain and Ireland 54: 140-156. Koppers. Will1ehn. 1942. ''Monuments to the Dead of the Bhils and Other Primitive Tribes in Central India.'' Annali Lateranensi 6: 165-183. Settar. S. and G. D. Sontheimer. 1982. Memorial Stones. Dharwar & Heidelberg: Karnataka University & Heidelberg University. 
4.9. Caya 
Asher. Frederick M. 1988. "Gaya: Momunents of the Pilgrimage Town.'' In Bodhgaya: 
The Site ofEnlightenment. edited by Janice Leoshko. 73-88. Bombay: Marg. 
Banerjee. Naresh. 1994. Glimpses of Gaya and Bodh Gaya. Bodh Gaya: Melwini 

Peace Foundation. 
Barna, Benimadhab. 1934. Gayii and Bodh-ga_vcl: EarZv History of the Holy Land. Calcutta: Indian Research Institute Publications. 
Feys, J. 1991. ..Ancestor Worship at Gaya.'' Sevartham 16: 37-62. 
lndraji, Pandit Bhagwanlal. 1881. "An Inscription at Gaya Dated in the Year 1813 of Buddha's Nirvana, with Two Others of the Same Period.'' Indian Antiquary 10: 341-347. Monier-Williams, Monier. 1876. "Sraddha Ceremonies at Gaya.'' Indian Antiquary 5: 200-204. O'Malley, L.S.S. 1901. "Gaya Sraddha and Gayawals." Journal ofthe Asiatic Society ofBengal. 73(3): 1-11. Paul. Debjani. 1979. "A Mathura Medallion in the Patna Musuem.'' Oriental Art 25 : 231-239. ---. 1985 . ..Antiquity of the Vi~r:iupada at Gaya: Tradition and Archaeology." East and West 35(1-3): 103-141. 
Singh, Sarjug Prasad. 1983. Studies in Indology-History and Culture of Gaya. 22"d Annual Session lnsitute of Historical Studies Calcutta. Gaya: Bilrnr Puratattva Evam Sanskriti Parishad. 
Thakur, Upendra, Naseem Akhtar, and Naresh Banerjee, eds. 1981. Glories of Gaya: Glimpes ofHistory and Archaeology. Gaya: Standard Printers. Vidyarthi, Lalita Prasad. 1961. The Sacred Complex in Hindu Gaya. London: Asia Publishing House. 
---. 1971. Uttar bhiirat kii eka sii1J1skrtik nagar: Gayii. Patna: Sammelan Bhavan. 
---. 1974. "TI1e Origin and Development of the Gayawal." Journal ofthe Bihar 
Research Society 60(3): 232-248. 
5. BUDDHISM 

5.1. General Background 
Bhattacharya, G. 1987 . ..Dana-Deyadharma: Donation in Early Buddhist Records (in BrfilunI)." In Investigating Indian Art (Proceedings of a Symposimn on the Development of Early Buddhist and Hindu Iconography Held at the Museum of Indian Art Berlin in May 1986), 39-60. Berlin: Museum for Indische Kunst. 
Boyd, James W. 1975. Satan and Mara: Christian and Buddhist Symbols of Evil. Leiden: Brill. Decaroli, Robert. 2004. Haunting the Buddha: Indian Popular Religions and the Formation ofBuddhism. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dehejia, Viday, ed. 1996. Unseen Presence: The Buddha and Sanchi. Mumbai: Marg Publications. Gombrich, Richard. 1971. Precept and Practice. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 
Grannoff. Phyllis. 1996. "The Ambiguity of Miracles: Buddhist Understandings of Supernatural Powers." East and West 46: 79-96. 
Kinnard. Jacob N. 2004. "The Field of the Buddha's Presence." In Embodying the Dharma: Buddhist Relic Veneraion in Asia, 1-26. Albany: State University of New York Press. Lancaster. Lewis R. 1974 ...An Early Mahayana Sermon about the Body of the Buddha and the Making oflmages." Artibus Asize 36: 287-91. Lewis. Todd T. 1994. ''Contributions to the History of Buddhist Ritualism: A Mahayana Avadana on Caitya Veneration from the Kathmandu Valley.'" Journal ofAsian History 28: 1-38. Mitra. R. C. 1954. "The Decline of Buddhism in India." In Vishva-Bharati Annals. Vol. VL edited by P. C. Bagchi. 1-164. Santiniketan: Vishva-Bharati. Monier-Williams. Monier. [1889] 1964. Buddhism in its Connexion 1vith Brahmanism and Hindiiism and Its Contrast 1vith Christianity. Reprint. Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series Office. Ohmuna. Reiko. 1998. "The Gift of the Body and the Gift of Dhamia:· History of Religions 37: 323-259. Rawlinson. Andrew. 1986. "Nagas and the Magical Cosmology of Buddhism.'' Religion 16: 135-53. Ray, Reginald. 1994. Buddhist Saints in India. New York: Oxford University Press. Roth. G. 1997. ''The Physical Presence of the Buddha and Its Representation in Buddhist Literature.'" In Investigating Indian Art (Proceedings of a Symposium on the Development of Early Buddhist and Hindu Iconography Held at the Museum of h1dian Art Berlin in May 1986). 291-312. Berlin: Museum fiir Indische Ktmst. 
Schober. Juliaime. 1997 . ..In the Presence of the Buddha: Ritual Veneration of the Burmese Mahamuni Image:· In Sacred Biography in the Buddhist Traditions of South and Southeast Asia. edited by JuliaI111e Schober. 259-88. Honolulu: University ofHawai"i Press. 
Schopen. Gregory. 2004. "What's in a Name: The Religious Ftmction of the Early Donative Inscriptions." In Buddhist Monks and Business Matters: Still More Papers on Monastic Buddhism in India, 382-94. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 
---. 2004. Buddhist Monks and Business Matters: Still More Papers on Monastic Buddhism in India. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. Siklos. Bulcsu. 1996. ''The Evolution of the Buddhist Yama:· In The Buddhist Forum, Volume IV Seminar Papers 1994-1996. 165-89. London: University of London Press. 
Walters, Jonathan S. 1997. ''Stiipa, Story, and Empire: Constructions of the Buddha Biography in Early Post-Afokan India" In Sacred Biography in the Buddhist Traditions of South and Southeast Asia, edited by Julianne Schober, 160-92. Honolulu: University ofHawai'i Press. 
---. 2003. "Deanimating and Reanimating the Dead in Rural Sri Lanka." In The Living and the Dead: the Social Dimensions of Death in South Asian Religions. 
edited by Liz Wilson, 112-26. Albany: State University of New York Press. Wayman, Alex. 1997. Untying the Knots in Buddhism. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers. 
5.2. Death 
Becker, Carl B. 1993. Breaking the Circle: Death and the Afterlife in Buddhism. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. Cuevas. Bryan Jare. 1996. "Predecessors and Prototypes: Towards a Conceptual History of the Buddhist Antarabhava." Numen 43(3): 263-302. Filliozet, Jean. 1963. "Le mort voluntaire par le feu et la tradition Bouddhique Indienne." Journal Asiatique 251: 21-51. Lamotte, Etienne. 1965. "Le suicide Religieux dans le Bouddhisme." Bulletin de las Classe des Lettres et des Sciences de l 'Academie Royale Belgique 51 : 156-168. Kapleau. Philip. 1971. The Wheel of Death: A Collection of Writings from Zen Buddhist and Other Sources on Death, Rebirth, Dying. New York: Harper. Karetzky, Patricia Eichenbaum. 1982. "Mara: Buddhist Deity of Death and Desire." East and West 32(1-4): 77-92. Keown, Damien. 1996. "Buddhism and Suicide: The Case of Channa." Journal of 
Buddhist Ethics 3: 8-31. Law, B. C. 1973. Heaven and Hell in Buddhist Perspective. Varanasi: Bbartiya. Przyluski, J. 1918-20. "Le Parinirvai:ia et !es funerailles du Buddha." Journal 
Asiatique 15: 488-529, 401-56, 5-54. Rangdrol, Tsele Natsok. 1987. The Mirror of Mindfulness. Hong Kong: Rangyung Yeshe Publications. 
Schopen, Gregory. 1976. Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected Papers on the Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 
---. 1987. "Burial Ad Sanctos and the Physical Presence of the Buddha in Early Indian Buddhism" Religion 17: 193-225. 
---. 1991 . "An Old Inscription from Amaravati and the Cult of the Local Monastic Dead in Indian Buddhist Monasteries." Journal of the International Association ofBuddhist Studies 14(2): 281-329. 
---. 1992. "On Avoiding Ghosts and Social Censure: Monastic Funerals in the Mulasarvastivada-vinaya." Journal ofIndian Philosophy 20: 1-39. 
1994. "Ritual Rights and Bones of Contention: More on Monastic Funerals and Relics in the Mulasarvastivada-vinaya." Journal ofIndian Philosophy 22: 1­
80. ---. 1995. "Deaths, Funerals. and the Division of Property in a Monastic Code.'' In Buddhism in Practice. edited by D.S. Lopez. 473-502. Princeton: Princeton University Press. ---. 1996. "The Suppression ofNm1s and the Ritual Murder of their Special Dead in Two Buddhist Monastic Texts." Journal ofIndian Philosophy 24: 563-92. Wayman. Alex. 1974. "The lntem1ediate State Dispute in Buddhism." In Buddhist 
Studies in Honor of I. B. Horner, edited by I. Cousins. A. Kunst. and K.R. Norman. 227-239. Boston: D. Reidel. 




5.3. Relics 
Altekar. A. S. 1956. "The Corporeal Relics of the Buddha." Journal of the Bihar Research Society (Buddha Jayanti Special Issue) 2: 501-511. Benard. Elisabeth. 1988. "The Living among the Dead: A Comparison of Buddhist and 
Christian Relics." The Tibet Journal 13: 33-48. Bentley. James. 1985. Restless Bones. London: Constable. Bentor. Yael. 1995. "On the Indian Origins of the Tibetan Practice of Depositing 
Relics and Dharar:iTs in Stiipas and Images." Journal of the American Oriental Society 115: 248-61. 
Brown. Robert L. 1998. "Expected Miracles: llrn Unsurprisingly Miraculous Nature of Buddhist Images and Relics." In Images, Miracles, and Authority in Asian Religious Traditions. edited by Richard H. Davis. 23-35. Boulder: Westview. 
Davids. T. W. Rhys. 1901. "Afoka and the Buddha Relics." Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 30: 397-410. 
Fleet. John Faithful!. 1906-07. "l11e Tradition about the Corporeal Relics of the 
Buddha." Journal ofthe Royal Asiatic Society 35: 341-63. 665-71. 881-913. 
Gennano. David and Kevin Trainor. 2004. Embod_ving the Dharma: Buddhist Relic 

Veneration in Asia. Albany: State University of New York Press. 
Schopen. Gregory S. 1976. "On the Buddha and His Bones: The Conception of a Relic in the Inscriptions from Nagarjunikonda." In Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected Papers on the Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts ofMonastic Buddhism in India. 148-64. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 
---. 1976. Bones, Stones, and Buddhist Monks: Collected Papers on the Archeology, Epigraphy, and Texts of Monastic Buddhism in India. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press. 
---. 1992. "'Monks and the Relic Cult in the Mahaparinibbanasutta: An Old Misunderstanding in Regard to Monastic Buddhism." In From Benares to Beijing: Essays on Buddhism and Chinese Religion in Honour of Prof Jan Yun­Hua, edited by K. Shinohara & G. Schopen, 187-202. Oakville: Mosaic Press. 
---. 1994. "'Stupa and Tirtha: Tibetan Mortuary Practices and an Unrecognized Form of Burial Ad Sanctos at Buddhist Sites in India." In The Buddhist Forum Volume III Seminar Papers 1991-1993, 273-93. New Delhi: Heritage. Shaw, Julia. 2000...The Sacred Landscape." In Buddhist Reliquaries from Ancient India, edited by Michael Willis. 27-38. London: British Museum Press. Strong. John S. 2004. Relics ofthe Buddha. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Trainor. Kevin. 2004. "Introduction: Beyond Superstition." In Embodying the Dharma: Buddhist Relic Veneraion in Asia. Albany: State University of New York Press. 1-26. Willis, Michael. 2000 ...Relics and Reliquaries." In Buddhist Reliquaries ji-om Ancient India. edited by Michael Willis. 12-23. London: British Museum Press. 
5.4. The Stfipa 
Harvey. Peter. 1984. "'The Symbolism of the Stilpa." Journal of the International Association ofBuddhist Studies 7: 67-93. Dallapiccola, Anna Libera. 1980. The Stupa: Its Religious, Historical and Architectural Significance. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag. De Marco. Guiseppe. 1987. "The Stilpa as a Funerary Monument: New Iconographical Evidence.'' East and West 37: 191-246. 
Goswamy, Brijinder Nath. 1980. "Introductory Speech: 111e Stilpa-Some Uninformed Questions about Terminological Equivalents.'' In The St11pa: Its Religious, Historical, and Architectural Significance. edited by Anna Libera Dallapicolla, 1-11. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner. 
Kottkamp, Heino. 1992. Der Stupa als Repriisentation des buddshistischen Heilsiveges: Untersuchungen zur Entstehung und Enllvicklung architektonisher Symbolik. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrasowitz. 
Snodgrass. Adrian. 1985. The Symbolism ofthe Stupa. Ithaca: Southeast Asia Program. 
Trainor. Kevin. 1996. "Constructing a Buddhist Ritual Site: Stilpa and Monastery Architecture." In Unseen Presence: The Buddha and Sanchi. 18-35. Mumbai: Marg. 
5. 5. Bodh Gayti 
Ahir. D. C. 1994. Buddha Gaya through the Ages. Dellii: Sri Satguru Publications. 
Barna. Dipak K. 1975. Buddha Gaya Temple: Its Histo1y. Buddha Gaya: Buddha Gaya Temple Management Committee. 
Chakravarty. Kalyan Kumar. 1997. Early Buddhist Art of Bodh-Gayii. New Delhi: Mm1shiram Manoharlal Publishers. ClU1llingham. Alexander. 1961. Mahiibodhi or The Great Buddhist Temple under the Bodhi Tree at Buddha-Caya. Varanasi: Indological Book House. Lawson. Simon. 1988. "Votive Objects from Bodhgaya" In Bodhgaya: The Site of Enlightenment. edited by Janice Leoshko. 61-72. Bombay: Marg. 
Leoshko. Janice, ed. 1988. Bodhgaya: The Site ofEnlightenment. Bombay: Marg. 
--. 1988. ''Buddhist Sculptures from Bodhgaya." In Bodhgaya: The Site of Enlightenment, edited by Janice Leoshko, 45-60. Bombay: Marg. 
Madhukar. Ktunar Himansu and Brindaban Behari Sahay. 1998. Bodh Caya: The Holy Pilgrimage of the Buddhists. Patna: Buddhist Centre for Action Research and Development Studies. Mahajan. Arvind. 2002. Sambodhi (Facets of Bodh-Gayii). Patna: Bauddha Sanskriti Kendra. Mitra. Rajendralala. 1972. Buddha Caya: The Great Buddhist Temple The Hermitage ofSakya Muni. Delhi: Indological Book House. Narayan. Sachindra. 1987. Bodh Caya: Shiva-Buddha-? New Delhi: Inter-India Publications. 


5.6. Tibetan Buddhism 
Bishop. Peter. 1993. Dreams of Power: Tibetan Buddhism and the Western Imagination. London: Athlone Press. 
Cuevas. Bryan J. and Kurtis R. Schaeffer. eds. Forthcoming (2007). Power, Politics, and the Reinvention of Tradition: Tibet in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries. Proceedings of the Tenth Seminar of the IA TS. Honolulu: Kuroda Institute/University ofHawai'i Press. 
Epstein. Lawrence. 1982. '"On the History and Psychology of the 'Das-log." Tibetan Journal 7(4 ): 20-85. Freemantle. Francesca. 2001. Luminous Emptiness: Understanding the Tibetan Book ofthe Dead. Boston: Shambhala. 
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80. 
NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS AND EDITORS 
JYOTHSNA BUDDHARAru graduated in May 2006 from the University ofTexas at Austin with a dual masters in Public Affairs and Asian Studies. She is currently working with the New York State Division of Budget. Her academic interests include governance in South Asia and lndo-Sino relations. as well as economic development in South Asia. 
CARY CURTISS is studying southern India in the Asian Cultures and Languages Program at the University of Texas at Austin. Her Master's work is on C. Rajagopalachari's role during the Indian independence movement. She plans to continue studying Tamil and studying modem history, religion, and politics in southern India during her Ph.D. work at U.T. 
JUSTIN FIFIELD is a Master's degree student in Asian Cultures and Languages at the University of Texas at Austin. He is interested in the history of religion in South Asia. particularly the development of Buddhism in ancient India, and its transmission to China. 
PETER KNAPCZYK is a second-year Ph.D. student in the Department of Asian Studies at the University of Texas at Austin. His research involves pre­modem intellectual and devotional traditions in South Asia, and Persian and Urdu religious literature. He earned an M.A. in ethnomusicology from Brown University and an M.A. in Asian Languages and Cultures from U.T. 
DANA KORNBERG is a second-year M.A. student in the Department of Asian Languages and Cultures. A native Floridian, she has more recently divided her time between Texas and north India. Dana focuses on modem Indian social history, Hindi language, and issues of development in the subcontinent. 
ELLIOTT MCCARTER received his B.A. in Religious Studies from the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, and his M.A. in Asian Cultures and Languages from the University of Texas at Austin. He is currently working on his Ph.D. at U.T. His main areas of focus are Sanskrit language and literature and medieval South Asian religious history. 
KATHRYN PAGE-LlPPSMEYER is currently starting her Masters work in Japanese Language and Literature through the Asian Studies program at the University of Texas, Austin. She lends her experience of editing and coordinating client publications for financial companies to SAGAR. 
ALEXANDER PAINTER graduated with an M.A. in History from the State University of New York, University at Buffalo, and received a B.A. in History and Adolescent Education from the State University of New York, College at Fredonia. His graduate study focus was in South Asian religion and politics. In his post-graduate work he has continued to study contemporary South Asian international relations, as well as learning Hindi and Urdu at The Johns Hopkins University School for Advanced International Studies. He plans to return to grad school for a second M.A. in South Asian International Relations with a focus on Strategic Studies in the near future. 
JACQUELfNE PALLARDY is a graduate student in the Asian Cultures and Languages Masters Program at the University of Texas at Austin. Her area interests include philosophy and education in South Asia. Jacqueline received her B.A. in the Program of Liberal Studies at the University of Notre Dame. 
URMILA PATIL, after much struggle and stress, has managed to advance to Ph.D. candidacy in 2006. A Sanskritist from India, her interests include Sanskrit, Indian religious traditions, and medieval history of India, particularly of the Deccan. When she is not dissertating, she teaches Hindi as an A.I. for second-year Hindi at the University of Texas at Austin. 
NIKOLA RAJic studied Indology and English language and literature at the University of Zagreb, Croatia. His Dravidian initiation occurred in Pondicherry, India, where he studied with various teachers affiliated with the Ecole Francaise d'Extreme Orient. Nikola is now an M.A. student at the Department of Asian Studies at U.T., Austin. The primary area of his studies is Tamil language and literature, and he is also interested in other Indian poetic traditions, especially bhakti. 
KRISTEN RUDISILL is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Texas, Austin. She is currently writing a dissertation titled "Brahmin Humor: Chennai's Sabha Theater and the Creation of Middle Class Taste from the 1950s to the Present." 
SANVITA SAMPLE is a second year dual degree student in Public Affairs and Asian Studies at the University of Texas at Austin. 
MATTHEW R. SAYERS is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Asian Studies at the University of Texas at Austin. His dissertation focuses on the tension between the idea of heaven and liberation as the ultimate reward for the perfonnance of the iriiddha ritual at the renowned pilgrimage site of Gaya. More generally, he is interested in the development of religious tradition in the Indian subcontinent in the first millennium of the Common Era, particularly the interpenetration of Buddhist and Hindu traditions. He currently teaches a class entitled Death and Dying in Indian Religions. 
BENJAMIN SCHONTHAL is a Ph.D. Student at the University of Chicago. His current research focuses on religion and politics in modem Sri Lanka. 
KEELY SUTTON received her B.A. in Philosophy and Religion from Appalachian State University, and her M.A. in Religion from Wake Forest University. She is currently working on her Ph.D. at the University of Texas at Austin with a focus on South Asian religious traditions. 



SAGAR 
SOUTH ASIA GRADUATE RESEARCH JOURNAL 
Call for Papers 
Sagar is a semi-annual research journal edited by graduate students working in the area of South Asia at The University of Texas at Austin. The journal provides a forum for scholars from various institutions and a range of disciplines to publish original research on South Asia (Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives) and its diaspora. All areas of study are invited: anthropology, art and art history, communication, ethnomusicology, folklore, history, literature, philology, political science, religion, sociology, women's studies, and other related fields. 
Article submissions should not be more than 6,250 words (approximately 25 double-spaced pages). 
Book reviews should not exceed 800 words. Annotated bibliographies on specific research topics will also be considered for publication. Please e-mail the editor with suggested books and bibliography topics. 
Please include full footnotes and bibliographies according to the "author­date system" of reference, as outlined in the Chicago Manual of Style. Please see our website for further style guidelines: http://asnic.utexas.edu/asnic/pages /sagar.index.html 
Contributors should submit articles digitally by e-mail in Microsoft Word format. Illustrations and photographs should be submitted unattached; all accompanying captions should be typewritten on a separate page (do not write on the pictures). Tables may be included in the body of the text. 
Authors must include their names, addresses, phone numbers, fax numbers, e-mail addresses, titles, universities, and year in graduate school (if applicable). Authors shall retain copyright of their articles if accepted for publication. By submitting articles, however, authors grant Sagar pe1mission to print them. 
For all inquiries, please e-mail the editors at sagar@uts.cc.utexas.edu or send 
mail to: 

Editorial Board, Sagar 
South Asia Institute 
The University ofTexas at Austin 
I University Station G9300 
Austin, TX 78712-0587 
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Sponsor: 
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SUBSCRIPTION 
An individual annual subscription for bound copies is twenty-five U.S. dollars. Institutional subscriptions are thirty dollars. Please make checks payable to Sagar: South Asia Graduate Research Journal. For more infom1ation contact the editorial board at sagar@uts.cc.utexas.edu