Religion in the Subjunctive Vaisnava Na

Religion in the Subjunctive: Vai

X>

ava Narrative,

Sufi Counter-Narrative in Early Modern Bengal

Tony K. Stewart*

Vanderbilt University

*Corresponding author: tony.k.stewart@vanderbilt.edu

Abstract: When VaiX>avas in 16th century Bengal first recognised KPX>a Caitanya (1486–1533) as divine, they attributed to him all the forms of the pur@_>ic KPX>a, starting with the yug@vat@ra as the corrective for the ills of the Kali age. These and related martial forms quickly yielded to more comforting and benign images of divinity that ultimately emphasised the erotic sentiment in the play of R@dh@and KPX>a, embodied in Caitanya as the androgyne. With Mughal ascendancy, the political landscape seemed to run counter to the successful implementation of the yug@_vat@_{ra’s mission until Satya P}a_r—a figure with allegiance to both VaiX>ava and Sufi ideals—arrogated to himself that now-vacated roˆle. In this new form of devotion, VaiX>avas and Sufis were united in finding a common solution to the decline. Though Satya Pa_{r was only} a fictional character, his tales circulated widely, prompting numerous attempts to reconcile Hindu and Muslim theologies. One example each from the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries will illustrate the novel strategies as authors tried to imagine a world wherein the multiple religious traditions of Bengal could share the land with a common cosmology and a common devotion, an innovative speculation that is subjunctive in its impulse yet explicit in its suggested solutions.

The pur@_{>ic master narrative of decline}

The hyperbolic declension narrative that marked the pur@>ic literary treatments of the final cosmic cycle, the Kali age, seemed to gain traction in VaiX>ava circles in late 15th century Bengal. A few years later, touting this trope and the need for god, KPX>a, to descend to set right the world, a small group of devotees in Navadva_{pa celebrated one of their own as the corrective. Ne´ Vis´vambhara Mis´ra} (1486–1533CE), this youngbr@hma>aencountered a charismaticguruin the person

of`_{s´vara Pur}a_{who initiated the young man into the VaiX>ava fold during a trip to} Gay@ _{where he had gone to perform the obsequies for his father. When he} re-turned Vis´vambhara was god-maddened and his charisma fuelled the imagination of the VaiX>ava community of Navadva_{pa. For about a year these devotees met} regularly as a group, singing the glories of KPX>a, dancing in private, and even in

ß_{The Author 2013. Oxford University Press and The Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies. All rights reserved.}

processions on the streets. At the height of these ecstasies, the local VaiX>avas began to see Vis´vambhara differently: they recognised in him the presence of divinity and openly proclaimed that he was KPX>a, brought to earth as the divine descent of the Kali age (yug@_vat@_{ra) by the call of the senior devotee}

Advait@_c@_rya.1 _{He was svaya: bhagav}@_{n, God Himself. His earliest hagiographers}

openly championed him as KPX>a, descending to right the ills that beset humanity in this degraded period that marks the winding down of the universe as the end of time cascades towards a cataclysmic end.2 While initially popular, this was a roˆle for Caitanya that would fade over the course of the 16th century, leaving it to others to discharge. The circumstantial evidence for his followers’ decision to vacate this form of avat@ra seems likewise to signal a dramatic change in the actual function of the yug@vat@ra, making Muslims central to the restoration of moral order, rather than implicated in its decline.

A close reading of the pur@_{>ic rhetoric of the demise of the civilised Hindu} world in the Kali age and the hagiographical tradition devoted to Caitanya does not actually pinpoint the aetiology of decline in the Kali age because degradation is teleological, projected as inevitable given the nature of KPX>a’s universe. What the texts do cite are indicators of it, especially the misconduct ofbr@_{hma>as, of women,}

of the lower social order, and the constant references to the blood sacrifices of the S´@_{ktas. The 16th century hagiographical record stands in direct contrast to the} contemporary narratives, for the bulk of the scholarship generated in the 20th century—when Hindu–Muslim conflict often took dramatic violent form—tended to imply, if not outright name, Muslims as the cause of the problems. The cate-gories of Hindu and Muslim that emerged in the late 19th century from agglom-erating these diverse groups into political identities had been naı¨vely read back onto the literatures of the earlier centuries, in spite of the dearth of references in the original set of hagiographies themselves, which are curiously mute.3_{The only} significant passage in the hagiographical tradition that so names Muslims as part of the proof of the ills of the Kali age, but by no means the only one, comes from the popular (not sectarian) Caitanya man˙gala of Jay@_{nanda—actually the term} Jay@_{nanda uses is mleccha or ‘foreigner’ (not musalm}@_{n), more precisely ‘foreign}

babbler’, i.e. he who speaks incomprehensibly and does not know Sanskrit.4There was no concise formula, many were the indicators of the Age’s degradation, but the earliest texts of Caitanya’s hagiographical corpus present a unified voice in their insistence that the world was ailing, just as thepur@_{>ashad intimated, and}

that Caitanya offered a remedy through the offices of theyug@_vat@_ra.

Changing the emphasis of Gauna_{ya VaiX>ava theology}

to slay King Ka:sa, as numerous poets and singers lamented—but this is where the expectations of Caitanya as theyug@_vat@_{rawere stymied, for contrary to the earlier}

predictions, after taking his formal vows of renunciation, Caitanya did not set out to slay demons or use celestial martial power to right the moral order. For most of the next six years he would make pilgrimage around India, returning to Puri where he passed most of the final eighteen years of his life near the temple of Jagann@_tha. In his final years he became increasingly lost in the mysteries of KPX>a’s love for R@_dh@_.5

For at least a half century the hagiographers in Bengal did not seem to regis-ter the implications of the shift in emphasis regarding the nature of Caitanya’s divinity and the concomitant forms of ritual practice, such was the apparent disconnect between the various groups in Bengal and the community in Puri. The shift was slow and timid as they began to explore more openly and with greater interest the erotic element; Locana D@_{sa’s Caitanya man˙gala marked the} turning point, followed shortly by theCaitanyacandrodayaof Kavikar>ap+_{ra. It was}

only with KPX>ad@_{sa’s Caitanya carit}@_{mPta, composed about three quarters of a}

century after Caitanya’s demise that the new story of Caitanya’s later life and his experience of the love of R@_dh@ _{emerged in its fully developed form.} According to that text, by the end of Caitanya’s life in 1533 CE, Caitanya was

understood to manifest exclusively the love of R@_dh@_{. There was no more hint} of martial forms ofavat@_ra.

the period of the much more cosmopolitan and culturally synthesising Sultanate dynasty of Husain Sh@_{h (r. 1494–1538). These martial images began to} yield to more pacifying forms during the reign of Husain Sh@_{h and even more so} in the Mughal period; devotees began to favour the baby B@_l@_gop@_{la, and most} of all the loving two-armed form of the flute-playing, gopa_{-flirting cowherd}

Govinda.8

The reign of divine kingship and righteous rule of the world conveyed through those early celestial images gradually surrendered to an erotic theology that was accessible through refined emotion, an experience that cultivated a distinctly apolitical interiority that was played out in the minds and hearts of devotees. The locus of devotional activity in Bengal shifted away from dependence on the costly and politically potent permanent structures of the royal temple compound to something more personal and more mobile. Even during Caitanya’s life this shift seemed to be presaged by the insistence of the hagiographers that the massive Jagann@_{tha image in Puri, which was known asacala jagann}@_{thaor immobile}

sov-ereign of the world, was twinned by Caitanya himself, who was the sacala jagann@_{tha or mobile Jagann}@_{tha, the new image of divinity.}9 _{During this great} theological transition of the mid- to late-16th century, marked by a swelling of the ranks of VaiX>avas across northern India, there was a noticeable corresponding shift in the nature of the favoured icons: the large fixed temple-based icon (m+_{lamurti) seems to have given way to the smaller processional forms (utsava}

murti) as the most common image installed in temples and home altars.10 These images were conveniently mobile; they could be easily transported and when times were unsettled, hidden away for safe keeping.11

While it is impossible to establish an unequivocal causal link to account for this this dramatic turn in the form of the image, it seems more than just circumstan-tial, for most VaiX>avas of this period—in Bengal and across north-central India— clearly shifted the focus of their experience of divinity away from the martial imagery of theyug@_vat@_{rato something more benign. Caitanya asyug}@_vat@_rawas

deemed of little import; by the end of the 16th century, the hagiographies tell us that theraison d’eˆtreof his descent was to experience for himself the sublime love that R@_dh@_{tasted. Caitanya was now understood to be an androgyne, R}@_dh@_and KPX>a forever fused in union, yet mysteriously remaining separate.12The point of his descent to earth was no longer this-worldly, it was not to heal the world’s ailments by force, but to create a momentary utopia that would serve to transport devotees away from this earth to heavenly Vraja, a different solution to what they had previously imagined for their afflicted world. All other theories regarding the form of theavat@_{ra—more than a dozen in all—were deemed incidental to the real}

was to leave the field foryug@_vat@_{raopen to other claimants who, in turn,}

rede-fined its nature and function.

Satya Pa_{r, new avat}@_{ra for the Kali age}

Starting in the 16th century, the most widely acknowledged and celebrated figure in Bengal to be attributed the roˆle ofyug@_vat@_{rawas a holy figure named Satya P}a_r. Like pur@>icavat@_{ras, Satya P}a_{r suddenly appears in the literature a wholly mythic} figure, but with some seemingly historical roots. In the late 18th century ‘Tale of L@_{lmon’ or L}@lmoner k@hini of Kavi ?_{rif (Beng.} ?_{ripha), his worship is actually} attributed to the daughter of Sultan Hus@_{in Sh}@_{h, a story that continues to} circu-late.13_{Satya Par has no historical basis, though his form clearly reflects the Bengali} culture of the times. He is the product of the Bengali imaginary,14 _{which here} seems to find a way to accommodate the increasing presence of Muslims in a VaiX>ava world by finding in the Muslim thesolution to the ills of the Kali age, rather than attributing to the Muslim its causes, as is routinely done in the pol-itical rhetoric today. Satya Pa_{r’s hagiographic narratives are fictional, his lifespan} seems to stretch across centuries, and today he enjoys worship by devotees at several tombs (maz@_{r and darg}@_{h), the most prominent being K}@_lasar@ _{village in} B@_r@_{sat subsdivision of twenty-four Parganas, visited by Gir}a_ndran@_{tha D}@_{sa in} 1968 as he collected stories of the pa_rs.15 _{The extent of Satya P}a_{r’s popularity is} attested by the vast literature dedicated to telling his tales. Manuscript evidence suggests it constituted the second largest body of literature in early modern Bengal after that dedicated to Caitanya—there are today more than 750 extant manuscripts composed by more than hundred different authors, Muslims and Hindus alike.16_{As his name suggests, Satya Par deliberately conflated the images} of both Hindu and Muslim holy figures. In his mixed sartorial style, brahmanical and Sufi, in his action and instruction from Qur’@_{n and Bh}@_{gavata Pur}@_{>a, and in} the style of his argument he signals an ‘exchange equivalence’ among the many types of holy figures who populated the Bengali landscape of the day—br@_hma>as,

VaiX>avavair@_ga_{s, S´aivasa:ny}@_sa_{s, S´}@_{kta ascetics, Ha}bhayoga_{s, Sufip}a_{rs andfaq}a_rs,

warriorgh@_za_{s, and even lesser gods and goddesses, the latter paired with}

extra-ordinarily devout Muslim matrons orba_ba_{s and long-sufferingsat}a_{s. In this}

imagin-ary, where equivalence and commonality were emphasised over difference—the efficacy of the act trumping doctrine or theology—the underlying aetiology of the widespread disruption of righteousness that characterises the Kali age is re-assessed. The fictive hagiographies of Satya Pa_{r declared that foreigners were} not the indicators of the problem of worldly degradation. Rather, Muslims, who were by then thoroughly Bengali, provided a way to survive the calamities and set the world back on track.

made their livings clearing the jungles of Bengal, especially in the eastern reaches and the Sunderban mangrove swamps, showing them how to accumulate vast wealth. He aided merchants who worshiped him, those who found themselves venturing out of the safe inland waterways onto the ocean to do their trade; but he just as easily threw obstacles in their path when they failed to live up to their moral obligations and promise to worship. Satya Pa_{r was a frequent visitor} to the courts and chambers of kings, zamindars, and petty landlords, present to defend those who had been wronged. As a provider of wealth and a broker of peace and justice, Satya Pa_{r embodied many of the classic ideals of theyug}@_vat@_rawhich

his followers claimed, but the emphasis was perhaps more mundane.17

Satya Pa_{r and a cohort of both mythic and historical p}ars could do what their Hindu counterparts could not do, or in some instances, failed to do, that is, they could tame and domesticate the unsettled reaches of Bengal (which were generally off limits to traditional Hindu groups) by extending protection to devotees in forms that were functionally familiar, if not precisely equivalent, and for whom sectarian identity was of little concern. The pa_{rs and shaykhs, with their special}

relation to the jungles and their wild inhabitants of tiger, crocodile, rhino, serpent, and pestilence could extend protection to areas Hindus had traditionally avoided— one hears of sa:ny@sas living in the forest, but not taming armies of tigers or

crocodiles as certainpa_{rs are reported to have done. They did not, however,}

dis-place their Hindu counterparts of gods and goddesses and holy men and women, but extended their reach across the frontier, continuing the same kinds of activ-ities to a new audience, largely lower classes, such as woodcutters, honey gath-erers, salt manufacturers, and of course farmers. For instance, where the goddess S´ital@ _{was propitiated to avert smallpox, pustular diseases, and afflictions of the} skin, the Muslim mother figure Ol@_ba_ba _{complemented her reach by handling} cholera, dysentery, and other water-borne diseases in a perfectly analogous fash-ion, even to the point that today in the Sunderbans they sit side by side to receive p+j@.18Authors naturalised this perspective by establishing functional equivalents of key religious figures: larger-than-life mythic figures, such as KPX>a; historical greats such as Muhammad and ?_{li; and individuals who populated the typical} classes of religious functionaries, such as Sufi pa_{rs or Vai}X>ava vair@_ga_{s and}

N@_thayoga_s.

Equivalence and complementarity: remodelling avat@_{ra theory}

was in his own lifetime. The historical pa_{rs who walked among the Bengali}

populations were so elevated—for example, Sh@_{h Jal}@_{l of Sylhet—that their} nu-merous miracles made them equal to any Hindu god. Religious figures become types, and theology universalised and timeless. Second, the primary focus of religious intervention is immediate aid to the individual plight, whether it be the alleviation of penury or help with sick cattle, the arrangement for a proper marriage partner or the aid of a string-pulling friend in the bureaucracies, all of which are tantamount to the worldly powers necessary to survive in a climate that can be alternately fructifying or inhospitable. This is popular religion, iron-ically usually characterised as unsophisticated and for the masses, but in fact, is hyper-individualised and tailored to each specific individual’s needs and based on a logic of analogous forms that proves very sophisticated. In both functional arenas, formal systematic theology is absent, and texts become iconic, so the Qur’@_{n and Bh}@_{gavata Pur}@_{>a (about the only two texts ever cited) become} emblematic of Truth, with distinctions and differences disregarded. Sectarian ritual injunction is routinely ignored except in its most basic form or rejected altogether, and that frequently as an indictment of those who hypocritically pretend to live by its standards.19 Instead, ritual practice is reduced to basic morality—being good—and showing respect to those with power, that is, avoid-ing calamity by appropriately recognisavoid-ing genuinely holy men and women and by honouring the gods.

In the case of theyug@_vat@_{ra, there are at least three different ways that}

equiva-lence is sought or established, each sharing in a commonly conceived project but for ever-so-slightly different ends. To illustrate, we will look at three examples in a logical order, which coincidentally turns out to be chronological as well—theS´+nya

pur@_>aof R@_m@_{i Pa>nita, theNab}ava:s´aof Saiyid Sult@n, and theSatya par p@n˜c@laof

Phayajull@_{—the first two, respectively, show Hindu and Muslim efforts to} incorp-orate the others’ figures; the third much more neutral in its evaluations of the place of these gods and holy men, reaching a true functional equivalence which favours neither formal tradition. All three of the strategies surface in these popu-lar pa_{r literatures throughout the early modern period. But it was this last}

per-spective that had by the late 17th century become the most common in the cycle of pa_{r romances. Ironically that position is the least recognised today, likely the}

result of the associated rituals being nearly generic in form and the associated theological perspectives likewise undifferentiated in doctrinal terms, which makes the propositions untenable in a world governed by the stark marking of difference among Hindus and Muslims that began with such earnest in the reform move-ments starting in the early 19th century.

In the last section of the BengaliS´+_{nya pur}@_{>a, a text of uncertain provenance}

sufficient to summon Lord Dharma or Dharma ah@_{kura—a figure associated and} later conflated with Satya Pa_{r—to come down to earth. R}@_m@_{i wrote:}21

In this fashion did the twice-born lay waste creation—

their injustices most egregious.

In Vaiku>bha heaven Lord Dharma cried out as he contemplated the full significance.

In the created world darkness descended. Dharma took the form of ayavana,

a black hat on his head,

in his hand aturuska[¼Turks’] bow and arrow. Pressed under the greatest burden

fear struck down the earth

until the singular name of Khod@_{rang forth.} The Stainless One (niran˜jana) without form (nir@k@ra) descended as anavat@_{rafrom heaven (bhest).}

From his mouth emerged the imperishable (damvad@_ra).22

As many deities as there were collectively appeared, all of like mind,

gaily wearing their loose pajamas. Brahm@_{became Muh}@_mmad,

ViX>u became the Messenger of God (pek@mbara),

S´+_lap@_{>i [¼S´iva] became Adam (adamph).}

Ga>es´a became the warrior-pa_{r (g}@_ja_), K@_{rtika became the magistrate (k}@na_),

and all the sages (muni) became mendicants (phaka_r). Covering over his own magnificence

N@_{rada became inspired religious leader (s´ek),} Purandara became a scholar (malan@). Candra, S+_{rya, and the original deities} descended as footmen to serve,

and together they played their musical instruments. Ca>nik@_Deva_herself

took the form of a H@_y@_Ba_ba_[¼Eve]

and Padm@_{vati became B}a_ba_{nur [lit. Lady of Light¼F}@_tem@_]. Any number of deities

came together with singular focus and entered the city of J@_japura.

The narrative follows the logic of VaiX>avaavat@_{ratheory: when God descends to}

earth he brings with him his entire retinue, hisdh@_{ma, in order to set right the}

well-known gods with different names and appearances, leaving little doubt re-garding their legitimacy. From his Hindu perspective, the presence of the Muslims simply extends whatavat@_{rasalways do: they come down from heaven to save the}

world and its populations. The seemingly opposed religious traditions are easily rectified, the theology sufficiently general to embrace the historical peculiarities, and Islam is not only made understandable, but necessary—hardly the stuff of conflict as is assumed in the post-colonial world, though the perspective operates according to an appropriation of Muslim religious lore to nominally Hindu ends, correcting the failures and excesses of this particular group of twice-born (who are routinely named as deficient and mean-spirited).

Less than a century after R@_m@_{i Pa>nita’s work, poet Saiyid Sult}@_{n composed his} grand history of the lineage of the Prophet Muhammad, the BengaliNabava:s´a.24

In this text he reverses the approach used by R@_m@_{i Pa>nita and incorporates} Hindu figures into the line of prophets ornaba_{s. Brahm}@_{, S´iva, R}@_{ma, and KPX>a} were allnaba_{sin the great line alongside Noah, Moses, and Abraham. By}

incorpor-ating popular Hindu gods, the author acknowledged their reality and presence, but subordinated them to Muhammad, who is of course the Seal of the Prophets. In this schema, Muhammad was designated an avat@_{ra, the etymological sense of}

which is ‘descent from above’ with the implication again of redressing the ills of the world—the perfect Bengali word for what Muhammad was believed to have done. Significantly, the cosmogony notes the tale of the Vedas and the earth’s plea for relief, a common trope to initiate descent in VaiX>ava texts.25 The Light of Muhammad, nur muhammadi, is instrumental to creation, but `_{s´vara and P}@_rvata are incorporated into the cosmogony side-by-side with M@_{rica and M}@_rij@_ta.26 _By accommodating the Hindu pantheon to the extent that he did, even when some of the figures, especially KPX>a, are deemed to be less than righteous and sent to mislead the world (interestingly, much as the Buddha in thedas´@vat@rasystem),27 Saiyid Sult@_{n adopts a vocabulary to describe the Prophet’s lineage that is not only} consistent with general avat@_{ra theory, but actually appropriates it by asserting}

that Muhammad, rather than KPX>a Caitanya, is theavat@_{raof the Age.}28

Muham-mad, of course, takes centre stage in this depraved age. In R@_m@_{i Pa}>nita’s S´+_nya

pur@_{>a,the gods assume human forms as Muslims, granting Muhammad and his}

where there is a very strong Muslim presence and concomitant emerging separate identity. But in central Bengal, R@_{nha, and all through the southern reaches of the} Sunderban mangrove swamps, what had previously been either Hindu or Muslim perspectives on these religious figures and gods became something altogether different and decidedly more generic by the late 17th century.

This third—and what becomes the most common approach to this popular strategy of seeking equivalence—can be sampled from the Satya par p@n˜c@la _{of a}

late 18th century text by a poet named Phayajull@_{, which has been chosen to} illustrate the trend because of its clarity. What makes this particular text a good illustration of the trend is not only its approach to a full equivalence of functional types of religious figures, but its indirect critique of the historical activities of warrior-pa_{rs (gh}@_za_andg@_ja_{), whose actions are no longer compatible}

with the consolidating religious sensibility. Writing in the southern R@nha district of what is now West Bengal, Phayajull@ _{composed a popular tale about the holy} figure of Satya Pa_{r in a Bengali performance genre called p}@_n˜c@_la_{. He begins by}

paying respect to a host of luminaries, enjoining the listener to follow his lead.30 Starting with Pa_{r Nir}@_{n˜jana—the Stainless One—then to Muhammad, to}?_la_{, to the} four friends of rasul and to the four im@ms, and of course to Ibrahim. Then Phayajull@ _{names several locally important historical figures: Ism}@_{‘il Gh}@_za _of Gana M@_nd@_{rama and Bana Kh}@_{n Murid Mian˜. He rhetorically asks how it would} be possible for him to name all the pa_{rs, who number in excess of one hundred}

eighty thousand. He bows to the feet of femalepa_{rsand a hundred times more to}

the feet of Ba_ba_F@_tim@_{. He then glorifies the Hindu deities}ah@_{kura Gop}a_n@_{tha of} Kh@_n@_{kula and Dharma}ah@_{kura. Veneration is offered to the site of V}Pnd@_{vana on} the banks of the Yamun@ _{and to K}PX>a and Balar@_{ma who lived there, and to} Navadva_{pa where Caitanya was born from the womb of S´ac}a_{. He bows to} Pan˜c@_{nan of Kum}@_rah@_{bi, then praises R}@_{ma and LakXma>a, the sons of} Das´aratha. Next comes eulogy to the goddesses LakXma_{, Sarasvat}a_{, and G}@_n˙g@ Bh@_giratha_{. He bows to S}a_t@_deva _{and other sat}as like her, to Daivaka_{, Rohin}a_{, and} again S´aca_Deva_{, who bore Gor}@_c@_{nd [¼Gauracandra]. The ordering sets up two lists} in parallel, a clear projection of Muslim and Hindu equivalence. Phayajull@ _then praises Satya Pa_{r as the supreme lord and admonishes his reader:}

...Satya Par S@heb, you do good for all without discriminating. You are Brahm@, you are ViX>u, and you are N@_r@_{ya>a. O brotherg}@_ja_{, pay heed to this} conjunc-tion [of divinity] and go pay your respects to thepa_{rwho resides here in your} midst. Leave off the idea of pilgrimage to Makk@_{and come here instead—this is} what Phayajull@_{advises you to do.}

sacred place, a position that also suggests that power is more efficacious when derived locally. While the injunction may be read in a general way for all auditors of the text, the message seems to be especially directed at the two warrior-pa_rs— Ism@_{‘il Gh}@_za_{of Ga}na M@_nd@_{rama and Ba}na Kh@_{n Murid Mian˜—the first of whom} came directly from Mecca to tame Bengal, the second of whom is in the direct line of one who did the same. Today, neither one of these figures is considered par-ticularly prominent, indeed their details are sketchy at best, but both were con-nected to political regimes that sanctioned sectarian violence—and they no longer seem to have purchase in Phayajull@_{’s cosmology of equivalence.}

As attested in several chronicles, Bana Kh@_{n Murid Mian˜ was Sh}@_{ykh N}+r al-Dan

Qubb-i-‘?_{lam (d. 1415CE), the son of the famous Sh}@_{ykh ‘Al}@_{’ al-#aqq and important} figure in the court of Sultan Ibr@_ha_{m Sh}@_{h Sh}@_rqa_{of Jaunpur (r. 1402–1436CE). It} was Qubb-i-‘?_{lam who, among other feats, engineered the surrender and} conver-sion of the Hindu ruler R@_j@_{Ga>es´a (r. 1415–1435CE), a major triumph for Muslim} rule in Bengal, but a victory that turned sour when Ganes´a later reneged, which is to say that Bana Kh@_{n Murid Mian˜ was ultimately unsuccessful in his quest.}31 _So too Ism@_{‘il Gh}@_za_{, who is positively identified in the early 17th c. Persian Ris}@_lat ush-Shuhad@_{‘ composed by P}a_{r Mu}$ammad Shabb@_ra_,32_{who reported that thegh}@_za_,

born in Mecca, had migrated to Bengal and worked in the courts of Rukn al-Da_n B@_{rbak Sh}@_{h (r. 1459–1474}CE). According to this narrative, Ism@‘il Gh@za enjoyed

much success as a warrior-pa_{r, subduing the armies of various Hindu kings, most}

notably the Gajapati of M@_nd@_{rama (in Orissa) and King K}@_{mes´vara of K}@_mar+_{pa in}

the northeastern hills, the latter through particularly miraculous deeds. Eventually he was betrayed by a jealous courtier and executed by his emperor, who subse-quently repented for his mistake, but not before Ism@_{‘il Gh}@_za_{had demonstrated} miraculous power even after his beheading. Credited with continuing to fight long after his head was separated from his body, Ism@_{‘il Gh}@_za_{’s head, torso, and four} limbs were eventually buried separately, each considered a legitimate tomb (darg@_{h) and pilgrimage point in Rangpur, northeast of Ghor}@_gh@_ba.

If the stories of these two gh@_za_{s are stories of conquest by foreigners, they}

portray rather Pyrrhic victories. They seem oddly out of place when Phayajull@_has argued that Satya Pa_{r as theyug}@_vat@_{raappealed to both Muslims and Hindus by}

championing reconciliation, where Muslims and Hindus were understood to wor-ship the same God by different names, but for the same ends. In his opening statement Phayajull@ _{articulated a different religious sensibility diametrically} opposed to the two warrior-pa_{rs and their failures seem to be precisely the}

point: the warrior ways of earlier pa_{rs andgh}@_za_{s failed to establish Islam as the}

signals that Islam had discovered a religious landscape that was receptive to its message in universal terms, a landscape that had made it its own, accommodated it, and appropriated it without being dominated by it. Islam had become Bengali. These two warrior-pa_{rs, seemingly considered by Phayajull}@ _{to be less than} glorious, lived just before the great historical period when Bengali emerged as the language of local culture, the literary vehicle for translations of Sanskrit and Persian as well as new creations. This was the period that began with the reign of Hus@_{in Sh}@_{h, who is celebrated as the great patron of Bengali literature and a} promoter of Bengali language; it continued through the 16th and 17th centuries of Mughal rule. This was the time of the great VaiX>ava transformation initially inspired by Caitanya whose followers abandoned the martial prospect in favour of a more benign and accommodating belief. Indeed, even Caitanya is reputed to have proposed that the Bh@_{gavata Pur}@_{>a and the yavana s´}@stra [_¼Qur’@_n] espoused equivalent truths in his frequently cited encounter with a Sufi pa_{r as}

he was leaving Vraja.33

Phayajull@_{’s opening encomia signal a religious sensibility that bound VaiX>avas} to Sufis in a new world, a world where practitioners were visibly marked as different, but whose discursive practices were compatible, where the warrior-pa_{r—whose very existence was predicated on conflict—ceased to be celebrated.}

Is it a coincidence that this rapprochement emerges when Bengali vernacular began to gain ascendancy as a literary language, representing a perspective common to Hindu and Muslim alike? But this perspective was neither formalised in theology nor in sectarian ritual, which is to say it was popular, but never institutionalised in the same manner that the sectarian traditions were. This lack of overt institutionalisation inevitably makes the religious prospect generic, that is, there can be no formal theology or doctrine, nor are there any formal liturgical practices because there is no developed institutional authority to sanc-tion them—worship is nearly universally generic with the offering of simples´ar>i

(s´inni, that is, rice flour, sugar, milk, and spices rolled into a ball) in the manner of p+j@. The result leaves little by way of historical records apart from vast numbers of manuscripts telling the ‘tales’ of these figures. Institutions ultimately vest au-thority in the archive of their own activities through art and architecture, through textual injunction, and historical chronicles and other records—while the religious impulse that seeks to establish the kinds of equivalences found in the Satya Pa_{r and} otherpa_{r stories (kath}@_{) lives nearly exclusively in fictional or mythic literatures}

that are dismissed as ‘popular’ and therefore granted little credence as religious documents.

Invisibility and the subjunctive

many other texts clearly signals this rapprochement: Satya Pa_{r wears abr}@_hma>a’s

sacred thread, the chain belt and dagger of the warrior-pa_{r, the ascetic’s patchwork}

garb common to all mendicants, and he carries the Bh@_{gavata Pur}@>a of the VaiX>avas and the Qur’@_{n, while teaching that}?_{llah and Bhagav}@_{n or K}PX>a are not different. It is, no doubt, in the eyes of many today, an unholy abomination; a misguided folk construction that has little or no legitimacy for either community. Satya Pa_{r and others like him, straddle what today are considered to be mutually} exclusive worlds of Hindu and Muslim. As a result, those few contemporary scho-lars within the tradition and religious leaders who do reckon his tradition look with disdain and denounce him (thereby inadvertently acknowledging his pres-ence and power) by classifying his followers as heretics. He is an abomination, or deemed irrelevant, and therefore to be ignored, for reasons that are familiar to us now. The story behind this categorisations are now well recognised—the 18th and 19th centuries Orientalists’ definition of religious traditions in India as an orgy of mindless confusion; the purification movements spawned by various reformers, both Hindu and Muslim; the active intervention of the colonial administration with the census, which assigned for the first time discrete religious identities that then became political identities, with concomitant legal reforms and legisla-tive quotas, and so forth. In short, the construction of the categories of knowledge left no positive place for the likes of Satya Pa_{r or Phayajull}@_{’s notion of} equiva-lence. The same result inheres in theories of Sanskritisation and Arabicisation, which mindlessly assume the so-called ‘high standard’ is commensurate with sophisticated theology and is automatically assumed to articulate the desirable goal of every religious or social practice for Hindus and Muslims, respectively. The result: Satya Pa_{r and similar figures are prejudicially dismissed as unlettered folk} religion—an Islam that is accused of being popular, rural, peasant, naı¨ve, rustic, or plainly stupid.34 _{For the last two centuries, Islamic reformers have not granted} Satya Pa_{r the status of being Muslim at all, and because he is ap}ar, Hindu reformers today reject him as well. With this systematic denigration, the exploits of Satya Pa_r and his cohort of mythicg@_ja_s,ba_ba_{s, andp}a_{rs seem to be slipping from our learned}

view, caught between the hegemonic discourse of modern Hindu reformers and the equally dominating Islamists’ Arabic-centric discourse of history, theology, and law. This blindspot is important because I do not think the Bengal case is unique. The nature of public discourse on religion in South Asia has effectively hidden this Bengali innovation from our contemporary scholastic view, in spite of the empirical evidence in the form of extant manuscripts, ongoing p+_j@_{s, and}

his followers no doubt would argue. A term that has been recently coined for this discursive ignorance, but which has not yet gained wide currency, isagnotology.36 It examines how the very structures of our knowledge hide from us possibilities that we have difficulty even imagining. We cannot imagine it because the way we think and prioritise knowledge does not allow it—and here we witness the shaping power of institutionalised, sectarian religions with their systematised, if not sys-tematic, theologies, the coercive power of doctrinal decision-making, and the in-junction of ritual on basic human behaviour. As scholars we are complicit in this cover-up because we focus on dominant forms that are made dominant by insti-tutions that keep histories and records; folk religion, of course, fails to institutionalise itself in this way.37

Throughout South Asia, much of the historical record of institutional Sufism in the pre-modern period has been instantiated in the physical site of the tomb and darg@_{hand reinforced by a strong literary output of teaching by both word and}

example, that is, practical religious guidance through correspondence (maktub@_t)

and more pointed theological perspectives laced with homiletics (ish@_r@_t),

pos-itions which in turn find reinforcement through, and are often redacted in, col-lected sayings (malf+_C@_{t) that are in turn contextualised in hagiography (tazkirah).}

The institutional edifice of course is designed largely to preserve and perpetuate this legacy. The greater institutionalisation the greater the exclusive claim to truth and the more difficult for alternatives to be given currency, a trend that is in turn reinforced by contemporary scholars who rely heavily on these preserved forms of cultural production. When the legacy of a pa_{r or s´h}@_{ykh successfully suppresses}

alternatives, it can be by design,38but in many instances results as a by-product of the looming presence of the institutions that legislate and govern. A court which can claim the patronage of a famous Sufi similarly legitimates hissilsilaor lineage while simultaneously legitimating the sponsoring court. That connection with overt political power extends the reach of the institutionalised Sufi; in more gen-eral terms, political power and theology blot out those less successful in combining the two.

Unlike these historical figures, Satya Pa_{r and his ilk have few of the trappings of} the formal silsila: no formal teachings, no collected sayings, no correspondence, and so forth. How could any mythic figure generate those institutional founda-tions? While there are rituals, they are, as noted above, nearly completely generic and of a form that is isomorphic with many rituals in any village worship in Bengal (the offering of s´a_{r>iin a type ofp}+_j@_{). Interestingly Satya P}a_{r does have several} darg@_{hsassociated with his tombs, but there is nosilsilato carry on his teachings}

because his ‘teachings’ again are not doctrinally marked, but rather consist of simple moral instruction about being good, showing respect to pa_{rs and other}

because of the spotty nature of his historical record—the fact that his institutional base is limited and falls between the more clearly demarcated mainstream Hindu and Muslim communities today—Satya Pa_{r has been nearly invisible to the} scho-lastic community for the last century, while his tales remain popular as ever. And he is not alone. His fictional universe is inhabited by a host of other mythological figures. In a curious contrastive twist, the mythology of the Hindu traditions has been enshrined in the academy and the popular imagination as an extraordinary record of Hindu religious sensibility, but any Muslim figure associated with myth-ology is automatically delegitimised, if not worse; in fact, scholars today will strongly discourage anyone from characterising anything in the Muslim world as mythology, as my own experience attests. But standing outside the institutional structures of mainstream Islam has given Satya Pa_{r a unique place in the Bengali} imaginary, for it has allowed Bengalis to envision a world apart from the con-straints of the doctrinally driven sectarian perspective—and therein lies much of his power.

a lack of doctrinal, ritual, and historical precision found in the text production of more established traditions; what is being proposed must by definition be vague. Yet these tales provide indirect counter-narratives to the hegemonic, or in Bakhtin’s terms, the monologic of the Hindu discourse of the VaiX>avas and Sunnis, and to a lesser extent S´@_{ktas and Sh}a_’a_{s that dominated the literary} pro-duction of the period. We might think of this activity as ‘test-driving’ ideas that function in asubjunctivemode, suggestive of, but not over-determined by theology. And I would suggest that while this case is unique to Bengal, the tendency is not, for devotional traditions across India in the early modern period were experiment-ing, allowing themselves to imagine a different world that offered new and better opportunities for their followers. It may well be that in this period the efflores-cence of bhakti, as it is so often described by scholars, is a modelling form of subjunctive religion, narratives that are exploratory and often revelatory, experi-mental before becoming fixed in ritual and doctrine.

The efforts of Phayajull@ _{linger on the fringes of the master narratives of the} mainstream religious traditions, and being somewhat generic in their religious propositions, they tend to function as invisible religion. In their openly explora-tory mode, they also represent a significant cultural memory, a product of the Bengali imaginary.42 I would suggest that the religious fictions of Phayajull@_and others also served as a laboratory as they attempted to imagine other possibilities, a place where they could project a world where Hindus and Muslims did in fact share a common cultural space. The early modern Bengali literature that portrays mythical figures such as Bana Kh@_{n G}@_ja_{who marshals a tiger army and Dak}Xina R@_{ya with his crocodile retinue, Bonb}a_ba _{the Lady of the Forest who protects} innocents as they traverse the jungly Sunderban mangroves, and other figures such as M@_{nik P}a_{r, the great veterinarian and wonder-worker, or Khw}@_j@_Khijir, who looks after boatmen—all of these tales hold clues to a culturally significant experiment that is Bengali, the exploration of a common cosmology for a diverse population whose primary interest seemed to be simply the living of a good life in a hard land. But this exploratory and experimental mood of devotionalism may not be unique to Bengal at all, but indexical of a broader cultural trend of the period.

Notes

1 For complete references to this instrumental roˆle in the hagiographies, see Tony K. Stewart,The Final Word: The Caitanya Carit@mPta and the Grammar of Religious Devotion

(New York and London: Oxford University Press, 2010) pp. 62–63, 66, 133. See also Rebecca J. Manring,Reconstructing Tradition: Advaita?_c@_{rya and Gaun}a_{ya Vai}X>avism at the Cusp of the Twentieth Century(New York: Columbia University Press, 2005), p. 39. 2 References to theyug@_vat@_raanddas´@_vat@_{rawere found especially frequently in the} earlier hagiographies, such as Mur@_{ri Gupta’s SanskritK}PX>acaitanyacarit@mPtamand

in the later hagiographies of Kavikar>ap+_{ra’s SanskritCaitanyacandrodayan}@bakam,

and fewer still in Locana D@_{sa’s BengaliCaitanya man˙galaand KPX>ad}@_{sa Kavir}@_ja’s mixed Sanskrit and BengaliCaitanya carit@mPta, these latter two focusing on the

erotic dimension of Caitanya’s divinity. For a comprehensive set of citations, includ-ing translations of key passages, see Stewart,The final word, pp. 56–7, 112–16, 121–6, 136, 176–80, 203–6, 230, 251, 260.

3 Ayesha Irani argues with the writing of Saiyid Sult@_n’sNabava:s´ain the mid-17th

century, ‘there seems to be a greater hardening of religious categories....The text is addressed to ‘themusalm@_{nsof Ban˙gades´a,’ and the term ‘hinduya}>a’ is also used’. [All

citations to the text will be from Saiyid Sult@_{n’s 1978 edition in A. Sharif (ed.)} Nabava:s´a, 2 vols.mh@_k@_{: Bangla Academy]. She goes on to observe that ‘such deictic} utterance is typical of the Nabava:s´a, and points to the Hindu “other,” whose

dis-course/ways are distinct from those of the Musalm@_{n’ (personal correspondence,} December 2012). It should be noted, however, that the context in which the Naba_va:s´awas composed and circulated was courtly, a place where the epics and Bh@_{gavata pur}@>awere routinely publicly read, so a ‘counter-text’ highlighting the illustrious exploits of the lineage of Muhammad, starting with Adam, would certainly orient the audience (auditor or reader) to its Abrahamic heritage and thereby draw distinctions. But how much difference can be imagined when S´iva and KPX>a and others are incorporated into the scheme of prophets and Muhammad is made yug@_vat@_{ra(infranote 29). The categories as ethnic markers andj}@_ti/k+_{ladesignations} (marriage issues) often seem to be as prominent. Unfortunately, there is a dearth of texts from the period in question with which to make the case, but by the mid-19th century, the distinctions are rapidly crystalising. I am deeply indebted to Ayesha Irani’s close reading of this essay and her many provocative suggestions and corrections.

4 Jay@_{nanda Mis´ra, Caitanya man˙gala, ed. Bimenbehari Majumdar and Sukumay} Mukhopadhyay (Calcutta: The Asiatic Society, 1971), 5.1–14. In v. 6, the ruler was labelled of mleccha j@_{ti, and in v. 8, mlecchas are reported to have attacked} br@_hma>as. See Stewart,The final word, p. 61, for a translation of the passage. 5 For vivid descriptions of the final years of his life, see KPX>ad@_{sa Kavir}@_ja,Caitanya

carit@_mPta, edited with the commentaryGaurakPpataran˙gi>a bak@ by R@dhagovinda

N@_{tha, 3d ed., 6 vols. Kalik}@_t@_{: S}@_dhan@_Prak@_s´ana_{, 1355–59 BS [c. 1948–52]; 4th edn,} 1369–70 [c. 1962–63]), pp. 3.4–20. The Dimock and Stewart translation follows this edition with identifical versification; see E. C. Dimock Jr. (trans.) and T. K. Stewart (ed.), The Caitanya Carit@_mPta of KPX>ad@sa Kavir@ja, (Cambridge, MA: Harvard

University Press, 1999).

6 Richard Eaton,The Rise of Islam and the Bengal Frontier, 1204-1760(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993) Mughal state policy on conversion, see esp. pp. 178–9. 7 It is worth noting that two of the famous sixgosv@_ma_{s, R}+_{pa and San}@_{tana, were in the}

employ of Hus@_{in Sh}@_{h, as reported in theCaitanya carit}@mPta2.1.157, 173–93. It is

Entwistle,Braj: Centre of Krishna Pilgrimage(Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1987). Likewise, in western India, patronage to VaiX>avas by both Sultanate and Mughal courts was widespread; see Samira Sheikh, “The Matiya Rebellion and Religious Categories in Early Modern Gujarat,” (typescript).

8 The sculptural and architectural record confirms this. In addition to the direct evidence found in the various museums across West Bengal and Bangladesh, see George Michell, ed., Brick Temples of Bengal: From the Archives of David McCutchion (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1983) and Pika Ghosh, Temple to love:

Architecture and Devotion in Seventeenth-Century Bengal (Bloomington and

Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2005).

9 For references and translated passages, see Stewart,The Final Word, pp. 57, 119, 123, 140. 10 Notably the activities of Narottama D@_{sa in the early decades of the 17th century} served to establish a new norm in Bengal for worship utilising the smaller images, starting with his installation of images at the Kheturi Festival. See Narahari Cakravarta_{, 1300} BS. R. Vidy@ratna (ed.). Narottama vil@sa. Murshidabad:

R@_dh@_{rama>a Press of Baharamapura; for a synopsis of events and translations of} key passages, see Stewart,The final word, pp. 290–6.

11 See for instance the tale of M@_{dhavendra Pur}a_{and the image of KXiracor}@_Gopa_n@_tha and the installation of S@_kXa_gop@_{la in successive chapters in KPX>ad}@_{sa Kavir}@_ja, Caitanya carit@_mPta, 2.4–5. For more on this shift of image, see Tony K. Stewart,

“Replicating VaiX>ava worlds: Organizing Devotional Space through the Architectonics of the Ma>nala,” South Asian History and Culture 2, no. 2 (2011):,

300–36, esp. pp. 300–303.

12 KPX>ad@_{sa Kavir}@_{ja,Caitanya carit}@_mPta, 1.1–4, 2.8; see also Dimock and Stewart 2009, Introduction, pp. 99–106.

13 Tony K. Stewart, trans., “The Wazir’s daughter who married a sacrificial goat: Kavi ?_rif’sL@_{lmoner Kecch}@_{” inFabulous Females and Peerless P}a_{rs: Tales of Mad Adventure in}

Old Bengal (New York and London: Oxford University Press, 2004), pp. 29–50.

Dines´acandra Sena and Basantaranjan R@_{ya, report in the introduction to their} edition of the late 18th century Harila_l@_{of Jayan}@_r@_y@_{>a that Satya P}a_{r was born} from the womb of a daughter of Hosen S´@_{ha; see Jayanr}@_y@_{>a Sena,Haril}a_l@_{, eds.,} Dinesacandra Sena and Basantaranjan R@_{ya (Calcutta: Calcutta University Press,} 1928), p. vi; this is also noted in Gira_ndran@_{tha D}@_{sa, B}@_n˙gl@ _pa_{r s}@_{hityera kath}@ (B@_r@_{sat, Cabbis´a P}@_rga>@_{s, WB: S´ehid Library, 1383 bs [c. 1976], p. 447.}

14 In this article, I am using ‘imaginary’ as the translation of the Frenchimaginaireon the order of Sartre; see Jean-Paul Sartre,The imaginary: A Phenomenological Psychology of the Imagination, trans. Jonathan Webber, rev. Arlette Elkaı¨m-Sartre (London and New York: Routledge, 2004); Sartre’s original text from the 1940 Gallimard edition was simply titledL’imaginaire.

15 Gira_ndran@_{tha D}@_sa,B@n˙gl@par s@hityera kath@, pp. 451–2.

16 For a survey of this literature, see Tony K. Stewart, “Alternate Structures of Authority: Satya Pa_{r on the Frontiers of Bengal” in Beyond Turk and Hindu:} Rethinking Religious Identities in Islamicate South Asia, eds. David Gilmartin and Bruce B. Lawrence (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 2000), 21–54.

S. Lopez, Jr. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995, 578–97. The texts include those of Dva_{ja R}@_{mabhadra’s Satyadeva sa}:hit@_{, Bh}@_{ratcandra’s Satyan}@_r@_ya>era vratakath@, S´an˙kar@_c@_{rya’s Satyan}@r@ya>a p@n˜c@la, and Ayodhy@_r@_{ma Bhabb}@_c@_rya’s Satyan@_r@_ya>a kath@.

18 I am grateful to Anu Jalais who, during her work on Bonba_ba_{, provided me with} visual documentary evidence of his practice in fall 2010.

19 One cannot help but think of the position held by the great north Indian poet Kabir and in Bengal L@_{lon among the B}@_uls.

20 When the manuscript was first edited and published the date was pushed much further back, with a number of literary historians arguing this was one of the earliest extant Bangla texts; even these much later dates can be contested, but even if the text proved to be of more recent provenance, the argument does not change.

21 R@_m@_{i Pa>nita,S´}+_nyapur@>a, ed. C@rucandra Bandyop@dh@ya, with an introduction

by Muhamm@_{d S´ah}a_dull@_{h and Vasantakum}@_{ra Cabbop}@_dhy@_{ya (Kalik}@_t@_: Sata_{s´acandra Mukhop}@_dhy@_{ya from Basumat}a_S@_{hitya Mandira, n.d. [1336 bs} pre-face], pp. 233–36. For an earlier and ever-so-slightly different transcription based on fewer manuscripts (but published with a different title), see R@_m@_{i Pa>nita,} Dharmap+_j@_bidh@_{na, ed. Nan}a_gop@_{la Bandyop}@_dhy@_{ya, completed by Yog}a_ndran@_tha R@_{ya B}@_h@_{dur, S}@_{hitya PariXad Granth}@_vala _{no. 56 (Kalik}@_t@_{: R}@_mak@_{mal Si:ha} from Ban˙ga_{ya S}@_{hitya PariXat Mandira, 1323} BS), pp. 263–5. It should be noted

that the title of the earlier printed work is considerably more accurate regarding the content of the text, which is more interested in rituals and the narrative justifications for them, than more traditional pur@_{>ic lore, with the exception of} the cosmogony.

Please note I have chosen to transliterate the Bengali words in their literal spellings, rather than change them into Persian or Arabic equivalents because these words were already or were becoming Bengali and no longer denoted the precise meanings of their counterparts. To substitute the Persian or Arabic originals would automatically imply that the Bengalis were failing to live up to the standards of the formal language of theology and law, when in fact they were appropriating the terms, changing them in the process, and thereby making Islam a Bengali cultural form, no longer imported. So the warrior pa_{r, transliterated gh}@_za _in Persian, becomesg@_ja_{in Bengali, and so forth. Names of historical figures, however,} who have their origin in the Middle East and Africa are in Arabic, and from the greater Iranian regions in Persian.

22 The meaningdamvad@_{rais unclear, so the editors supplied three distinct meanings:} destruction, the imperishable, and the name of a historical pa_{rDam M}@_d@_{r, who} lived during the reign of Sult@_{n Ibr}@_{him S´ark}a_{. Fabrizio Ferrari favours a reading of} Pa_{r Bad}a_al-da_{n, but for our purposes it does not change the point regarding the way} divinity is presented, see 2004. ‘Problematiche di interpretazione storica e teologica dello Sunya Purana. Note su Niran˜janer UXm@_{per un’analisi del sincretismo} hindu-islamico del Bengala’.Annali di Ca’Foscari,43, 31–53.

23 The Gauna_{ya VaiX>avas extrapolated this concept to identify more than 180} fol-lowers who were believed to have descended with Caitanya during his life, as out-lined by Kavikar>ap+_{ra; see Kavikar>ap}+_ra,Gauraga>oddes´adapik@, ed. with Bengali

R@_dh@_{rama>a Press of Baharamapura, 1329}BS). For more see Stewart, ‘Replicating

VaiX>ava worlds’, passim, and idem.,The Final Word, passim.

24 Saiyid Sult@_n,Naba_va:s´a, ed., Ahmad Sharif, 2 vols. (mh@k@: Bangla Academy, 1978).

In the opening chapters of her dissertation, Ayesha Irani has argued that Ibn Ishaq’s Sir@_{is the model for the structure of theNabiva}:s´aand the source for many of its stories; see Ayesha Irani, “Sacred Biography, Translation, and Conversion: The Nabava:s´aof Saiyid Sult@n and the Making of Bengali Islam, 1600–Present” (PhD

Dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 2011). This careful and sensitive study traces the Arabic, Persian, Sanskrit, Awadhi, and Bangla sources of tales, while considering Saiyid Sult@_{n’s mastery of multiple genres in those languages.} 25 Saiyid Sult@_n,Nabiva:s´a, vol. 1, section 6, pp. 23–42.

26 Irani, Sacred Biography, Translation, and Conversion, ch. 4, ‘Cosmogony and Conversion’, pp. 211–55.

27 Saiyid Sult@_{n, Nabiva}:s´a, vol. 1, sections 85–7, pp. 468–501. See Irani, “Sacred

Biography, Translation, and Conversion,” ch. 6, Hari the Failed Prophet: A Warning to the People of Bengal,” pp. 299–339.

28 Saiyid Sult@_n,Naba_va:s´a, 2: 474, vv. 150–5.

29 On the surface it would appear that theNabava:s´aseems to be articulating

some-thing different from the various other texts that assume the mechanics ofavat@_ra theory:avat@_{ras are parts or the whole of God who literally ‘cross over’ (t}P-) and

‘down’ (ava) from heaven to earth in the traditional Sanskritic sense of the term; in the Naba_va:s´a God, who resides in heaven, creates these figures on earth. Yet conceptually there seems to be only a fine distinction and one can see how easy it would be to equate God creating a Prophet and God descending to earth. Note how the descent of KPX>a in the critical passage in theBhagavad ga_t@_{4.7–8 utilises} the rootsbh+_{- (becoming, existing, arising) ands}Pj- (to emit from one’s self, create,

beget); in J. A. B. van Buitenen’s translation: ‘For whenever the Law languishes, Bh@_{rata, and lawlessness flourishes, I create (bhavati) myself. I take on existence} from eon to eon, for the rescue of the good and the destruction of the evil, in order to reestablish the Law.’ (van Buitenen, J. A. B. (trans.) 1981.The Bhagavad Ga_t@ _{in the Mah}@_bh@_{rata: text and translation [Chicago: The University of Chicago} Press, 1981], pp. 86–7). The activity and sentiment both seem to be simpatico. I am grateful to Anna Bigelow who pointed out that the Arabic root n-z-l means to descend and a major component of Qur’anic interpretation is the issue of theasbab al nuz+_{lor the occasions/reasons of revelation (descent) in the context of why this} particular verse was revealed at this particular moment. For this intriguing parallel of historically attuned descent, see Stefan Wild, “‘We Have Sent Down to Thee the Book with the Truth . . .’: spatial and temporal implications of the Qur’anic concepts ofNuz+_l,Tanzal, and‘Inz@l” inThe Qur’an as Text, edited by Stefan Wild (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996), pp. 137–53.

30 Satya Pa_{r P}@_n˜c@_la_{of Phayajull}@_{, quoted in Gir}a_ndran@_{tha D}@_sa,Ban˙gl@_pa_{r s}@_{hitya kath}@_, pp. 453–4.

32 G.H. Damant, “Notes on Ism@_{‘il Gh}@_za_{, with a Sketch of the Contents of a Persian}MS,

entitled ‘Ris@_{lat ush-Shuhad}@_{,’ found at K}@_>b@ _D+@_{r, Rangp}+_{r,” Journal of the Royal} Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. XLIII, no. 3 (1874): 215–39.

33 KPX>ad@_{sa Kavir}@_{ja,Caitanya carit}@_mPta, 2.18.175–203.

34 Strangely, scholars have further ghetto-ised these traditions courtesy of Redfield’s Great Tradition/Little Tradition dichotomy, which sought to recognise the latter as worthy of inquiry, but with the classification relegates them to a secondary status. See Redfield, R. 1960.The little community and peasant society and culture.Chicago: The University of Chicago Press.

35 It should be noted that ignorance is not a failed epistemology, which is a type of error.

36 Robert Proctor and Londa Schiebinger, eds.,Agnotology: the making and unmaking of ignorance(Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2008). The issue of agnotology can have serious moral ramifications for its tendency to silence individuals or groups through the structures of knowledge as they play out in public discourse, such as the treatment of minorities; see for instance Miranda Fricker,Epistemic injustice: power and the ethics of knowing(New York and London: Oxford University Press, 2007). 37 The archive as part of this institutionalised base of power balancing public and

pri-vate histories is provocatively explored by Derrida; see Jacques Derrida,Archive Fever: A Freudian Impression, trans. Eric Prenowitz (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1996).

38 See Tony K. Stewart, “The Subject and the Ostensible Subject: Mapping the Genre of Hagiography among South Asian Chishta_{s” inContemporary Islam Between Theory and} Practice, edited by Carl W. Ernst and Richard Martin (Columbia, SC: University of South Carolina Press, 2010), 227–44.

39 The set of tales takes shape through a number of indigenous Bengali genres that are routinely publicly performed (as opposed to texts meant for study), includingkath@ andkiss@_(story),k@_{hini(narrative ‘histories’ that are largely mythological),p}@_n˜c@_la andp@_l@_g@_{na(dramatic performances and plays with singing and dancing), and of} coursega_{ta(song). They are tales of charisma-encountered, which involve a stock} trade of magic and miracles, public feats of intellectual gymnastics or mind-bog-gling poetic prowess, and of course inevitably heroic valour—much in the manner of Arabian Nights.

40 Pierre Macherey,A Theory of Literary Production,trans. Geoffrey Wall (London and New York: Routledge, 1978).

41 I follow Bakhtin’s articulation of dialogic and monologic; among other places, see M. M. Bakhtin, “Discourse in the Novel,” pp. 259-422, In Michael Holmquist, ed.,The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays by M. M. Bakhtin(Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981), passim.