– Aditi BanerjeeMy parents came to Chicago from Calcutta in the 1960’s. They associated with Bengalis and their closest friends have remained Bengali — it is with the Bengalis of Chicago that we have celebrated and to this day celebrate Thanksgiving, New Year, Durga Puja, Kali Puja, and Saraswati Puja. What binds them together is not just the language but also the shared memories of the home they left behind — a fragmented India, where Bengal was distinctive from the rest of the country. They saw themselves as Bengalis, not as Indians.The India they left behind is drastically different from the India I found this summer when I spent a few months there. This is an India where Bengalis speak Hindi as much as they speak Bengali, while many in my parent’s generation can’t follow a Bollywood movie without subtitles. This is an India where my cousins listen to bhangra and Hindi soundtracks more than they listen to Rabindra sangeet. This is an India where the anthem being sung is the national anthem, not that of individual states. This is an India where Indians are finally seeing themselves as Indian.So, the new immigrants who are coming from India are identifying themselves not as members from a particular region, but as members of an increasingly unified nation. They are more apt to celebrate Diwali than Kali Puja when both celebrations fall on the same weekend. They are more likely to talk to their friends in Hindi than in Bengali. They are more likely to join NetSAP than the local Bengali association.This shift is similar to the changes in identity prevalent among the second generation, the so-called ABCD’s, American Born Confused Desis, like myself. While I learned to speak Bengali before English, and while I bonded with the children of my parent’s Bengali friends, what drew us together wasn’t our ethnicity: it was our shared experience of being brown folk in a white world, of weekend get-togethers with other immigrant families and eating Indian food, of being dragged to pujas celebrated in local high schools rented out for the weekend. It was our shared experience of being perceived as the dorky nerds in school, of teachers and parents expecting us to excel in math and science and to be at the top of our class, of teachers and parents expecting us to be engineers or doctors, of being asked whether we spoke Indian. In short, what bound us together wasn’t being Bengali-American or even necessarily Indian-American; it was the experience of being foreigners born in this country, a shared experience of alienation.I first heard the term South Asia when I came to Tufts. I was told that the differences between Pakistanis, Indians, and Bangladeshis were negligible — in short, since other Americans couldn’t distinguish between us, why should we? Eventually, I was told that we should think of ourselves as Asian-American — we shared common experiences and came from the same general continent after all. The underlying premise behind each of these movements was the idea that what formed a group identity was based largely on how others perceived us and what would bring political clout and social coherence.This is a fundamentally flawed approach. Of course, it is valuable and necessary to have communities of Indian-Americans, South-Asian-Americans, and Asian-Americans. But communities and group affiliations are different from what constitutes political and social identity. Identity cannot be based on political expedience or social convenience — it cannot be based on circumstances of birth or geographical origin or even race/ethnicity. Even culture is not enough, though it is a closer approximation of what matters — it is our values, our worldview, our beliefs about ourselves and the world we live in, it is the way we think, the way we conduct ourselves, the philosophy behind our actions. Of course, this is very much based on culture and ethnicity, but it goes beyond these parameters to something larger.Bengali-Americans, Asian-Americans, South-Asian-Americans function well as communities but cannot suffice as identities. They will shed and morph over time as migration patterns and political and social realties shift. The same way the Bengali identity has given way to an Indian identity, the current South Asian vogue will give way to something else in the coming years. These identities are inherently unstable, based on external circumstances, not innate characteristics of personality that are necessary to constitute any real or permanent identity.For example, while I may go for months without uttering a word of Bengali or even without speaking to another Indian, not a day would pass by without my praying to Krishna or reciting the Gayatri mantra. While I would be as amenable to marrying a Punjabi as I would a Rajasthani or a Bengali, I would find it very difficult to marry a man who didn’t believe in reincarnation or karma or dharma. While I might be equally happy at a South Indian temple or a Chinmaya Mission or an ISKCON center, all three share fundamental characteristics of the faith dear to me. While I may not take my children to the local Durga puja celebrated by Bengalis in the future, I would tell them the stories I know from the Ramayana and the Mahabharatha.Well, first of all, to think religion and politics aren’t mixed to begin with is a naïve and dangerous presumption. Politics does not happen in a vacuum; all actors, especially political actors, are motivated by convictions based on ideology and morality, which come from social norms as well as religious beliefs. The debate over slavery was inextricably intertwined with Christianity; the universal recognition of human rights is based on a consensus of religious viewpoints on basic values; the partition that tore through the subcontinent was a bitter battle over the soul of a nation as characterized by religion. The more conscious we are of how religion affects our identity and viewpoints, the more we can try to be open-minded and fair. If we deny the religious component of our identity, we just become blinded to what is going on in our subconscious and our own prejudices — we no longer know ourselves. Religion does not exist in a separate component within our being; it pervades and permeates our personal life and also our public life, our career, our social interactions and our conduct as citizens.Before debating the merits of adopting a Hindu-American identity, we have to understand what it means to be a Hindu-American; how is it distinctive from being any other type of American or indeed any other type of Hindu? I’ve touched a bit on how Hindu-Americans are different from the groupings of people as Indian-Americans or Asian-Americans. It’s an identity that looks at the individual rather than broad categories of ethnicity or race; it’s an identity that is chosen rather than assignedBut how are American Hindus different from other Hindus, principally Hindus from India? It is admittedly difficult to separate the two; India is Hinduism’s birthplace and the traditional homeland for a religion that has done little proselytizing beyond its borders. However, we must understand that the faith and philosophy of Hinduism is distinctive from the social customs and rituals that have come to plague it through the years. Just as Christianity is not about the Crusades or slavery or sexual abuse perpetuated by priests, similarly, Hinduism is not fundamentally about dowry, or the current caste system, or the subordination of women in the name of religion.These are social practices caused more by the history of Indian society than by the philosophy of the religion. What does it mean to be a Hindu? Not so long ago, people identified themselves as followers of Shiva or Vishnu or the Vedanta philosophy, not as Hindus. When we began to call ourselves Hindu, it came from an acknowledgment that despite the diversity of the faith, a diversity of beliefs and practices that we cherish, there is an underlying unity — an acceptance that though there is one truth, we call it by different names, that we are all taking different paths to the same God, the same destiny, an acceptance of the truths of the Vedas that we may never have even read.Though we in America may never understand a word of Sanskrit or though we may celebrate pujas on the weekend for convenience rather than on the actual day it is supposed to be held, though our vision of Hinduism may be colored more by the popularization of yoga and meditation than by the teachings of the Puranas, we still subscribe to the same beliefs that allowed Shaivas and Vaishnavas to bridge the gaps between themselves and forge a common identity as Hindus. These beliefs are strong enough to bridge the geographical distance that separates American Hindus from Hindus of other nations.It is this unity that matters the most, this unity that we need to recognize and acknowledge. Whether we pray to Kali or Krishna, Rama or Ramakrishna, whether we revere the words of Swami Vivekananda or Sri Aurobindo, there is a unity of belief underlying it all. However, we must understand that American Hindus are also distinctive from other Hindus around the world. These distinctions are based on the society in which we are living. Think of people like Deepak Chopra, who has repackaged Ayurvedic science for a western audience, or Krishna Das, who fuses traditional bhajans with western music. Think of the hundreds of yoga teachers who have combined traditional hatha yoga with aerobics or pilates or even martial arts. Think of Hindu weddings as they happen in America today, three days’ worth of ceremonies compressed into an hour or two with English translation for those non-Sanskrit speakers like me.I am not as Indian as my parents or others of their generation are. I date and probably would not consent to an arranged marriage; I drink at social gatherings; I do not speak Bengali as frequently or as well as I should. But does that make me less Hindu? I pray, meditate and practise yoga; I read books on the Gita and other scriptures; I believe in the philosophy they hold dear. I value the same things they do – family, caring for others, and honor – but I express these values differently. I practice the religion differently. I am Hindu, not in the Indian way but in a new American way. When I think of a Hindu-American, I think of myself.I have reinterpreted my religion to adapt to the society and lifestyle I have adopted as my own. Some would call this deviating from the authentic religion. I disagree. I think it is healthy to reinvent and reinterpret and reform any philosophy or religion. That is how people and societies and religions survive and evolve. It is this process of adaptation and assimilation that has preserved Hinduism for so long. It is the reforms that preserve the essence of the faith while accommodating social changes and modernization that have added to the richness and wisdom of the religion.As American Hindus, we have the opportunity to contribute to that process. It is something we should not shy away from – it is a responsibility we should accept and honor. Why? First, because it is necessary for the survival of the religion. Religions that are stagnant and refuse to change with the times, to adapt to the society in which they are living, die away. Christianity has been so successful in its appeal to people around the world for so many centuries precisely because it has been more flexible than others in accepting the tide of the times.Why should we care about whether Hinduism survives as a religion? This reminds me of an article I read a while ago in National Geographic. There are languages that are dying by the thousands every year. Sure, in some ways it is effective and efficient to have fewer languages to ease communication between groups. But, one problem is that as these languages die out, vocabulary and culture associated with these languages also vanish. For instance, words that identify the medicinal properties of herbs and plants. Without this vocabulary, we lose the knowledge of potential cures for cancer and other illnesses.Religions contain invaluable knowledge. Whether one is a Hindu or not, there is an interest in preserving as many traditions of the religions of the world as possible — preserving not as in maintaining their status quo but in encouraging the growth and evolution of such traditions and faiths while staying true to their roots. Diversity in and of itself is a public good.  The Hindu Students Council (HSC), a student body that has nearly 70 chapters in US universities – a positive example of the emerging Hindu-American identity.Additionally, a Hindu American identity can be more encompassing than ones based on geographic boundaries. We may reach out beyond the differences of race and ethnicity towards other Hindus of Caribbean, African, or European descent and find commonalities that bring us together. Exposure to and awareness of the variety and diversity of practicing Hinduism in different societies and cultures would enrich our own practices and understanding of the religion.More specifically, as Hindus ourselves, we have a particular interest in formulating and articulating a Hindu-American identity. I believe that the “confused” in ABCD (American Born Confused Desi) comes from being confused about what it means to be a desi in America. Of course, there are things that we share in common with all Indians, but the lasting impact of being born as an Indian-American comes from the rift between the values our parents teach us and the values we find ourselves surrounded by in the U.S. Some of these differences are based on social norms and cultures, some on religion. In order to better understand these differences and our own coherence, we need to examine our religious identity, and in particular, what we accept from our heritage and what we reject.Doing that in a group or community format is preferable to each of us doing it individually, because many heads are better than one, and having the support of others going through similar experiences gives us comfort and guidance. And in the end, we are not islands isolated from one another — we are all members of communities, of a sub-community as Hindus and a larger community of Americans and global citizens. And in order to contribute to the important dialogue between civilizations and faiths, we must begin with the discussions and dialogues within our own faith and religion.How do we do this? The best and most important way is through education. The only way we can get to think of ourselves as Hindu is to understand first what it means to be Hindu. We need to learn more about our religion. I’ve read so little of our scriptures, and all of it has been in poorly translated English. My knowledge is fragmented: bits and pieces of the Puranas, selected verses of the Gita. But imagine the possibilities if we could all get together and put together our own fragments of knowledge  we’d be so many steps closer to a coherent understanding of the fundamentals of the religion. There are so many resources out there, and they’re best used if shared and as the products of collaboration.Interaction and dialogue are also key. Conferences and forums encouraging widespread community participation and input are invaluable. Forums based on being Hindu rather than being of a certain ethnicity or nationality are important. Also, open-ended discussions on topical issues such as what our views as American Hindus are on social issues such as women’s rights or interfaith marriages would be useful.Darwinism is not just for living beings. Survival of the fittest applies to religions, societies, and civilizations. To succeed not just as individuals, Americans, or Indian-Americans, but as Hindu-Americans, we need to understand better both sides of the hyphen — what does it mean to be Hindu and what does it mean to be American? As really the first significant generation of American Hindus, we have the unique opportunity to frame, formulate, and generate the dialogue and debate needed to give birth to an identity that will hopefully stand the test of time and generations.These are just my thoughts. This is just one voice in what I hope is a massive dialogue and discussion about what unites and distinguishes us as Hindus living in America.(Aditi Banerjee is a student at Yale Law School. Her interests include international law & foreign policy and issues related to Hinduism and the Indian Diaspora. This is the text of a paper presented at a seminar on “Hindu Ideological Empowerment and Derivative Activism” held at Chicago on 1-2 November 2003). |
