1 Introduction

In Madhya Pradesh, a high-caste brahmin woman named Bhuribai prostrates herself before a new sati shrine. It is 1974. For her, and for countless other traditional Hindu women in India today, the perfect woman is the pativrata, the devoted wife whose entire existence is dedicated to her husband. Ideally, such a woman dies before her husband; if by some mischance she does not, the wrong may be put right by taking her own life on her husband’s pyre. She is then worshipped as a goddess, the perfect example of the self-sacrificing wife. Bhuribai’s fervent prayer before that shrine is that she may never suffer the misfortune and disgrace of becoming a widow.

In her home, Bhuribai was fortunate. She suffered few hardships, was not ill-treated, and generally did as she pleased. Aware that she was in fact more intelligent than her husband, she took pleasure in her evident and efficient control of his household. But she remained quite ready to regard him as essentially ‘higher’, and herself as ’the shoes of his feet… his property’. Indeed, although she never actually worshipped him, Bhuribai conformed to the view widely held by both men and women throughout India that the perfect wife should regard her husband as her personal God. For, as both religious texts and traditional stories make clear, the man ordained to be a woman’s husband is far more than a man: he is the incarnation of the supreme law in her life; the definition and summation of her religious duty; a god to be appeased.

In 1977, however, Bhuribai’s husband died. Deprived of her one remaining desire to die before her ’lord’, and in his house where her wedding vows were taken — she announced her intention to become a satī or truly ‘virtuous’ wife herself. But, recent shrines notwithstanding, the immolation of widows has been illegal in India since the British Government abolished the practice with the Suttee Regulation of 1829. The village elders made her take the required ’test’ of the true sati: she had to perform the miracle of changing a ball of cow-dung into a coconut. Bhuribai failed. She was denied the supreme sacrifice of the ideal wife.¹

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But not all Hindu women share Bhuribai’s views concerning the proper role of women. In Search of Answers (Kishwar and Vanita 1984) is a collection of articles and letters published in Manushi, an outspoken magazine concerned with issues relating to Indian women today, during the first five years of its publication (1979-83). In her introduction to this disturbing document, Madhu Kishwar writes:

The pervasive popular cultural ideal of womanhood has become a death trap for too many of us. It is woman as a selfless giver, someone who gives and gives endlessly, gracefully, smilingly, whatever the demand, however unreasonable and harmful to herself. She gives not just love, affection and ungrudging service but also, if need be, her health and ultimately her life at the altar of her duty to her husband, children and the rest of her family. Sita, Savitri, ānusuya and various other mythological heroines are used as the archetypes of such a woman and women themselves are deeply influenced by this cultural ideal….

This ideology of slavery and contempt for women in the family plays a more important part than even beatings or bullets in keeping women oppressed.

(Kishwar and Vanita 1984:46-7)

One of the letters, translated from Hindi and included in the collection, roundly condemns the pervasive image of the self-effacing woman:

The ideals, ethics and morality heaped on women since time immemorial are suffocating and killing. The adjectives used to praise us have become oppressive. Calling us loving, they have locked us in the closed room of culture, calling us gentle, they have reflected us in a mirror of helplessness, calling us kind, they have tied us in cowardice, they have handcuffed us with modesty and chained our feet with loyalty, so that far from running, we have not been able even to walk….

Now we must refuse to be Sitas. . . . Our exclusion from the scriptures, from temples, from smritis, is also our strength…

(Kishwar and Vanita 1984: 298-9)

But what is this powerful ideology that is accepted without hesitation by some women, like Bhuribai, and yet rejected so vehemently by others? Where may we find its ideals, aims and arguments clearly set out? An increasing number of books and articles are being written in English on the role of women both in India and elsewhere.

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But India is in the special position of having an ancient, complex and highly intellectual socio-religious tradition of its own. Scholars from all over the world have spent lifetimes studying the contributions of the pandits of this rich classical past. Where then are the great debates on the status and role of women? Is there not a Sanskrit text on the subject from within this orthodox Hindu tradition?

Indeed there is. One such work that puts the orthodox point of view is Tryambakayajvan’s Strī-dharma-paddhati, or Guide to the Religious Status and Duties of Women. This little-known text was written in Sanskrit by an orthodox pandit in eighteenth century Thanjavur (Tanjore) in southern India. While it is clearly not in the same class as the great digests of Sanskrit religious law (dharmaśāstra) such as the Smṛticandrikā or the Parāśaramādhavīya, its importance lies in the fact that it is the only extant work of its kind. Although many dharmasastra texts contain a section pertaining to women (strīdharma), there are no other major works on the subject.²

From the socio-historical point of view, Tryambaka’s treatise gives a remarkable insight into the daily routines of the eighteenth century court of Thanjavur, and in particular into the life of the orthodox Hindu woman within it. This is especially interesting in view of the fact that the text predates the nineteenth century social reforms instigated by Rammohan Roy and enacted by the British. With regard to eighteenth century Sanskrit scholarship, the treatise throws important light on the encyclopaedic Dharmākūṭa (see pp. 10-12 below), serving as a dharmasastric appendix to the saga of Rama and Sītā as the ideal man and woman.

As always in dharmaśāstra, the result is an odd mixture of reality and utopia.+++(5)+++ It is a basic principle of mīmāmsā philosophy that something can only be prohibited if its occurrence is possible.³ Thus the prohibitions on wearing no blouse during the day (section IIA, pp. 91-5 below), for example, or on wearing heavy earrings during love-making (section IID, pp. 241–2), imply that women in fact might have done these things.

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The injunctions betray the ideals of utopia: a woman should always wake before her husband (p. 52); she should herself attend upon her husband instead of delegating such duties to servants (pp. 64-5); she should think only of her husband, worshipping him as her god (pp. 273, 280-2, 300, etc.); and so on. Whether they seem to us to be important or trivial, these ideals are the visible signs of the orthodox Hindu culture that Tryambaka is trying to defend. The attack on Hindu ‘righteousness’ (dharma) must have seemed to come from many quarters at once: the constant threat of Muslim domination and the encroachment of Islam; the insidious influence of Christian missionaries (such as those at the Jesuit Mission at Madurai) and European traders (the Danes, the Dutch, the French and the British); the customs of the local Tamil population whose women (especially those involved in the productive sphere) enjoyed a far greater freedom than their sisters at the Maratha court; and the increasingly popular devotional religion (bhakti) which claimed that women and low-caste (sūdra) men could reach heaven directly without even attending to their traditional duties.

Tryambaka is a collectivist.+++(5)+++ His concern is not with women as individuals but as parts that fit into and therefore strengthen the whole. While advocating conformity, however, the treatise is itself an admission of the power of nonconformist women to wreck the entire edifice of Hindu orthodoxy. For when women are ‘corrupted’, all is lost (see note 7 below).

The norms presented in the Strī-dharma-paddhati do not hold for all Hindu women in India today; yet, as I shall explain, a surprising proportion of the behaviour described is praised or adhered to in traditional areas even now. Nor do they necessarily tell us how women behaved in Tryambaka’s day; yet we may assume that highcaste women were expected and encouraged to conform. What they do tell us without any doubt is how an orthodox pandit in eighteenth century Thanjavur summarising a tradition already over a thousand years old in his day-thought women ought to behave. This is the pervasive ideology in question. The aim of the current study is to explore it in depth.

Mode of presentation and overview of the contents of the Strī-dharma-paddhati

The decision to merge translation and commentary rather than to conform to the usual separation of the two requires some explanation.

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The main reason for this is that the text itself is not unduly difficult. The Sanskrit style is largely that of the lawbooks and the epics. It has none of the more tortuous complexities of, for example, a treatise in Sanskrit grammar or logic. The important task in a text of this nature is therefore not an analysis of roots and compounds, but an elucidation of the overall world view within which the treatise was written; an exploration not of specific words and their meanings, but of the values assumed and the prejudices implied. For this kind of intellectual history, it was deemed unnecessary to separate text and translation from commentary in the traditional manner.

Nonetheless, specialists in dharmaśāstra and others wishing to make a thorough check of text and translation will have no difficulty in doing so. In the major portions of this study, as explained below, every ruling and comment is rendered into English. While all translated passages are incorporated into the commentary, they are clearly distinguished from it by inverted commas. The complete Sanskrit text is provided in the form of corresponding notes, together with additional textual comments and references.

It was also felt that a merging of commentary and translation in this way to form a continuous narrative would appeal to a wider audience than merely the specialist. Indeed it was hoped that a more readable analysis of this rather bizarre document would make it accessible to scholars and non-specialists alike in a wide variety of fields: from religious law, Indology and comparative religion to anthropology, sociology and women’s studies.

The basic divisions of the text follow those of the earliest available manuscript of Tryambaka’s work (see appendix pp. 331-8). The order in which the individual topics are dealt with, unless otherwise specified, does likewise. The emphases, however, are mine.

In particular, while I have divided the work into five major sections (I-V), I have chosen to discuss only the first three of these at length. The reason for this is simple but compelling. In manuscript form, the complete text covers 94 folios, comprising 184 closely written sides excluding duplicates and blanks. A detailed analysis of the entire work would have been prohibitively long. It was essential, therefore, to concentrate on those sections which may be considered unique or of special relevance in a study of this kind, while merely touching on topics which-although of interest in themselves—are already receiving attention from other scholars.

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A brief description of the contents of each of the five main sections will demonstrate the basis on which this choice was made. Furthermore, the exact length of each section, what proportion it forms of the whole text, and the mode of presentation used in the current study for each one (i.e. translation and commentary, extended essay, or summary) is given below in the form of a table.

Section I contains Tryambaka’s introductory remarks and is extremely short: only two and a half sides in manuscript form, representing 1 per cent of the total work. However, precisely because it is the opening section and thus provides a first sketch of the general framework into which the treatise will fit, it deserves special consideration. A coherent analysis of this section is essential in order to make this framework clear at the outset. This entails a precise English translation of Tryambaka’s text (indicated by inverted commas), together with the complete Sanskrit text (given as corresponding notes), and followed by a detailed explanation of the meaning and implications of each point raised. As a result, some of the more important assumptions and unarticulated tensions -even contradictions-inherent in the traditional image of the orthodox Hindu wife are brought to the fore.

In this and all subsequent sections, each textual attribution made by Tryambaka either for individual rulings or, indiscriminately, for groups of rulings is indicated in two ways. When introducing or commenting on a given ruling, the attribution is mentioned: either as given in the text if there can be no confusion (e.g. *according to Manu’ for manuḥ); or, if necessary, in an expanded form (e.g. ‘in the Anusāsanaparvan of the Mahabharata’ for tathā cānusāsanike). Secondly, the attribution is given in abbreviated form in parenthesis in the Sanskrit note (e.g. Sdhp. 21v.3-4 (Rām.) < Mbh.XIII.38.29b; in this case indicating that, although Tryambaka attributes the quotation to the Rāmāyaṇa, it in fact comes from the Mahābhārata). While every effort has been made to provide a source for each quotation given, some gaps inevitably remain. The author would be glad to hear from readers able to fill any of them.

Section II constitutes the bulk of this study. In terms of Tryambaka’s text, however, it represents less than a fifth of the whole. But this compact and complex section of the Strī-dharma-paddhati is unique. While detailed descriptions of the daily practice of the orthodox Hindu male householder form a recurrent and important

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topic of dharmaśāstra, it is unusual to find parallel rulings for women at any length.

This rare attempt to map out a woman’s day in detail (strīnām āhnikam) therefore deserves careful consideration. For everything the good Hindu wife should do-from the moment she wakes in the morning to the moment she sleeps at night—is discussed from the point of view of the ‘sacred norms’ of religious law (dharmaśāstra). Some of the rulings are identical to the equivalent rulings applied to men; some are the same in principle but different in detail; others relate to the husband’s obligations and thus to the wife’s corresponding duty to assist him in fulfilling them; still others, largely those concerned with housework, are peculiar to women. A close analysis of both the explicit beliefs expressed and the implicit understandings involved is rewarding.

The mode of presentation in this section is identical to that in section I: a precise English translation; the complete Sanskrit text given as notes; and a detailed discussion of each point raised. In particular, each ruling is discussed in the specific context of dharmaśāstra, as far as possible allowing the discipline to speak for itself. For ease of assimilation, this large body of rules has been further subdivided into four: those pertaining to the period before dawn (section IIA, pp. 51-101); those pertaining to the rituals at dawn (section IIB, pp. 102-55); those relating to the daytime (section IIC, pp. 156-233); and those associated with the evening (section IID, pp. 234–45).

Section III covers just under three manuscript sides, representing a mere 11 per cent of the total work. But it contains a fascinating and original digression on the inherent nature of women (strīsvabhāvaḥ) that deserves more detailed elaboration.

For Tryambaka bravely faces, and attempts to resolve, an apparently insuperable problem here. Briefly, it runs as follows. If, as is widely acknowledged, women are inherently wicked, is there any point in instructing them on how to be virtuous? Is not the Strī-dharma-paddhati itself a waste of time?

Tryambaka’s response is twofold. First, he admits that women are innately wicked; indeed he argues the point rather forcefully. Secondly, he insists that women also possess innate good qualities such as purity, and that—as womenthey are uniquely blessed; and he proceeds to demonstrate this with equal vigour.

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On examination, this apparent contradiction rests on a radical (if theoretically illogical) distinction between two crucial concepts relating to women: strīsvabhāva (the wicked nature of women) and strīdharma (the virtuous behaviour of women or, more accurately, wives). This distinction underlies many of the extraordinary pronouncements concerning women that must strike anyone familiar with Indian literature. The physical aspects of being female — menstruation, sexuality, childbirth, and so on-are taboo; women as biological creatures are condemned; the wild untamed goddesses, their counterparts in myth and symbol, are feared and appeased. Respect, even reverence, is reserved for those women in whom the biological has been controlled: the obedient wife, the selfless mother, and the gentle goddesses of the Indian imagination.

So important is this section to an understanding of the complexities surrounding the position of women in Indian culture that it has been treated somewhat differently from sections I and II. None of the rulings have escaped translation; nor is any of the corresponding Sanskrit absent from the notes. However, the entire section has been incorporated into an expanded essay on the nature of women in orthodox Hindu thought. The resulting presentation is no less faithful to Tryambaka’s work than the previous ones.

Section IV covers sixty and a half manuscript sides and represents a third of the whole work. However, for the reasons outlined above, it has been considered in far less detail than the foregoing sections. Under the general heading of ‘duties common to all women’ (strīnām sādhāraṇā dharmāḥ), Tryambaka groups together a variety of rulings to form nine extremely important and stimulating topics: general rulings on the behaviour appropriate to women; things a woman should avoid (varjanīyah); women’s property (strīdhanam); the concept of the devoted wife (pativratā); menstruation (rajasvalādharmāḥ); pregnancy (garbhinidharmāḥ); the woman whose husband is away (proṣitabhartṛkādharmāḥ); the practice of suttee (more properly, of ‘becoming sati’) or dying with one’s husband (sahagamanavidhiḥ); and widowhood (vidhavādharmāḥ). Clearly, each of these topics would benefit from a monograph of its own. Tryambaka’s rather laboured recommendation of sahagamana, or becoming satī, is of particular interest. In this study, however, because of the decision to concentrate fully on sections I-III, close translation and detailed analysis are replaced by summary.

Both Tryambaka’s divisions, and the order in which he deals with them, have been maintained. Within each subsection, the

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general attitude has been summarised; the main arguments quoted or paraphrased; and the important points highlighted. The more crucial, resounding or better-known rulings are translated in full, with the corresponding Sanskrit text given as notes. It is hoped that this treatment will provide readers with sufficient preliminary information on each topic to inspire them to pursue their interests elsewhere.

Section V is the longest: there are eighty-one and a half manuscript sides, representing almost half of the whole work. While section II of Tryambaka’s treatise is probably intended as a kind of instruction manual for the chief wife of the head of the household, together with her co-wives, this section seems to be more a collection of inspirational material perhaps directed primarily towards the new daughters-in-law coming as young brides into the home. In essence, however, it contains only one point: that a woman’s highest duty is service to her husband.

This unwieldy section forms the conclusion to Tryambaka’s treatise. His single stark message is defined in three ways: that she should have no regard for her own life; that she should even allow herself to be sold; and that obedience to her husband takes precedence over all other religious duties. These three subpoints are then illustrated at varying lengths with stories culled from the epics and purānas, often without added comment. Some of his quotations are short, others extremely long; many are well known; most have been translated in full by other scholars elsewhere.

There follows a brief discussion of what is meant by ‘service to one’s husband’ and ‘obedience to his command’; and whether the two could ever be in conflict. The next thirty-five manuscript sides tell virtually the whole story of Savitrī, the most famous pativratā of all, taken verbatim from the Mahabharata. The remaining three and a half pages consist of Tryambaka’s final summary, the closing verses, and the colophon.

The treatment of this section is similar to that of section IV. Tryambaka’s general approach to this mass of material has been retained: the main divisions, and the order in which they are taken, are his. The stories he quotes at such length are summarised as briefly as possible; and no additional comment is made unless strictly necessary. A few rulings and quotations that are especially appropriate or significant are translated in full with the corresponding Sanskrit text given as notes. The final summary, the closing

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verses, and the colophon each receive a full translation for which the Sanskrit text is also given.

Figure 1 shows the mode of presentation.

Section

nos.

Folio nos.

No. of MS sides

Proportion

Mode of presentation

of text (%)

I

1v.1-2v.5

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II

2v.5-21r.3 364

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Full trans.; Skt text; detailed comment.

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22}

III

21r.3-22r.8

[[3]]

[[14]]

Full trans. & Skt text incorp. in ext. essay.

Summary + selected

IV

22r.8-48v.6 60

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[[142]]

[[771]]

trans. & text.

V

48v.6-88r.I 814

[[441]]

[[184]]

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Figure 1. The Mode of Presentation

The author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati

The issue involves three names.

1. Tryambakayajvan, to whom the Strī-dharma-paddhati is ascribed in the colophon;

2. Tryambakarāyamakhin, the most famous of the family of pandit-ministers at the court of the Maratha Rajas of Thanjavur, and the ascribed author of the Dharmakūta, a remarkable encyclopaedic commentary on the Rāmāyana; and

3. Dhundhiraja(vyāsayajvan), court pandit and poet, protégé of Tryambakarāyamakhin, and author of the Mudrārākṣasavyākhyā The relationship between these three is far from clear.

Raghavan’s New Catalogus Catalogorum gives the following information.

1. Tryambakayajvan, pupil of Yajñesa, is the author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Garhasthyadīpikā.

2. Tryambakarāyamakhin, the minister of Serfoji, is the patron of Dhundhiraja and the ascribed author of the Dharmakūtu, which text was in fact composed by his protégé.

3. Dhundhirāja, son of Lakṣmaṇavyāsa, protégé of Tryambakarāyamakhin, Śāhaji, Serfoji and Raghunatha, is the author

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of the Dharmākūta (ascribed to Tryambakarāyamakhin), .he Mudrārākṣasavyākhyā, the Rājakośanighantu (ascribed to Raghunātha) and the Śāhavilāsagītā.

In his introduction to the Sahendravilāsa, Raghavan states categorically that the author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Gārhasthyadipika is not the pandit-minister, Tryambakarāyamakhin (1952:28, note 2).

Sastri’s Descriptive Catalogue of the Sanskrit Manuscripts in the Sarasvati Mahal Library gives somewhat different information.

1. Under ‘Tryambakayajvan’, the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Gārhasthyadipika are listed in two separate entries. No connection is made between the two.

2. Under ‘Tryambakarāyamakhin’, we find that this is the author of the Dharmakūta and that the author’s name is given variously as Tryambakarāyamakhin, Tryambakayajvan and Tryambakamakhin.

3. Under ‘Dundhivyāsa’ and ‘Dundhiraja’, son of Lakṣmaṇasudhi, we find two works listed: the Mudrārākṣasavyākhyā and the Sāhavilāsagītā. Sastri too notes that the Tryambakayajvan of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Tryambakarāyamakhin of the Dharmakūta are not the same.

Several Tryambakas are listed in J.H. Vora’s Kavikāvyakālakalpanā (an alphabetical index to the dates of Indian authors and works, written in Gujarati and loosely based on Aufrecht). Among them,

1. ‘Tryambaka’ is described as the pupil of Yajñesa and the author of the Garhasthyapaddhati;

2. ‘Tryambakayajvan’ as the author of the Dharmākūta; and 3. ‘Tryambakarāyamakhin’ as the author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Kuladharmapaddhati. (The Kuladharmapaddhati is given in Raghavan’s catalogue as a tantric work by yet another Tryambaka about whom one knows nothing more. Winternitz (1905:271) describes it as a work on tantric rites belonging to the nineteenth century. There is no manuscript of this text in the Sarasvati Mahal Library.)

I maintain that ‘Tryambakayajvan’ is Tryambakarāyamakhin; and thus that the author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati is also the author of both the Gārhasthyadīpikā and the famous Dharmākūta. The evidence is as follows.

First, the colophons of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Gār

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hasthyadipika are identical, each ascribing authorship to Tryambakayajvan, pupil of Yajñeśa.4 Secondly, the author of the Dharmākūta also gives his teacher’s name as Yajñesa (e.g. Dharmāk. VI.p.457). Thirdly, there is a clear statement in the Strī-dharma-paddhati itself that its author also wrote the Dharmakūta. On the subject of wearing the tilaka, a lengthy quotation from the Dharmakūta is prefaced with the words: ‘For in the Dharmākūta, (the commentary) on the Rāmāyaṇa, which was written by me… (ata evāsmatkṛtarāmāyaṇadharmākūte; see section II, p. 98, note 74). In addition, the Dharmakūta is both cited (e.g. ‘Further examples are to be found in the Dharmākūta (commentary) on the Rāmāyaṇa’; see section III, p. 250, note 18) and quoted at length (see section IIA, pp. 96, 98–100, notes 73, 75-8; etc.). Finally, the titles yajvan and makhin are synonymous, probably commemorating the great sacrifice performed by the pandit-minister and described by Bhagavantaraya in the Raghavabhyudaya (Raghavan 1952:26).

All this suggests that Tryambakayajvan and Tryambakarāyamakhin are indeed one and the same; and that this one Tryambaka wrote all three works. In that case, the earliest date for the composition of the Strī-dharma-paddhati is the year when the Dharmakūta was completed (1719); the latest that of the year of minister Tryambakarāya’s death (1750).

The relationship between Tryambaka and Dhundhiraja is less clear. As Raghavan points out in his introduction to the Sahendravilāsa, the introductory verses in Dhundhiraja’s Mudrārākṣasavyākhyā are identical to those in the Dharmākūta. Raghavan concludes that Dhundhiraja is the author of both works, thereby strengthening his description of himself as the king’s paurāṇika (1952:26-7). The custom of attributing works to a king or minister is certainly common enough to warrant this assumption. However, it is also possible that Tryambaka wrote the Mudrārākṣasavyākħyā, or at least that he lifted the introductory verses from it. Since the author of the Dharmākūta is, as I have argued, the author of the Strī-dharma-paddhati and the Gārhasthyadīpikā as well, I prefer to withhold judgement on this important point until further detailed textual analysis of all four texts can be made, a task outside the scope of a study of this kind.

4. guruyajñesakṛpayā śrīmattryambakayajvanā / pritaye śrīnṛsimhasya kṛtā gārhasthyadipikā || Gārhasthyadipikā 59r.2. Cf. Sdhp. 88r. 7-8, section V, note 10.

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Throughout my discussion of the Strī-dharma-paddhati, I shall therefore refer to the author as ‘Tryambaka’. This assumes the identity of Tryambakayajvan and Tryambakarāyamakhin but not necessarily the substitution of Dhundhiraja for them both. Additional information on the lives and works of both these men is given below (pp. 16–19).

The political background: the Maratha Rajas of Thanjavur The Maratha lineage can be traced back to Bābāji Bhosle (c.153397), the hereditary village headman of several villages near Pune in Maharashtra. His grandson, Shāhji, married twice: leaving his first wife and son in the Deccan, he took his second wife and son with him on his military expeditions to the south. By 1676, both Bābājī’s great-grandsons-Śivājī (1627-80) in the Deccan and his half-brother Ekoji (c.1630-86) in Thanjavur-had set themselves up as independent Hindu kings in an India dominated by Muslim overlords. (For a fuller account of this early period, see Leslie 1983(2): appendix B.) It is the Maratha dynasty at Thanjavur that concerns us here (figure 2).

Sambhaji

(1619-54)

Dipābāi=

Māloji (c.1552-1620)

Bābājī Bhosle

(c.1533-97)

Vithoji

(b.1553)

Jijābal=

Shāhji (1594-1664)

= Tukābāī

Shariffji

(b.1595)

Śivājī (1627-80)

Ekoji (c.1630-86)

Maratha Rajas of Thanjavur

Deccan Marathas

Figure 2. Origins of the Maratha Rajas of Thanjavur

At first, Ekoji’s kingdom comprised most of the Thanjavur district, Arni, Porto Novo, and Shahji’s large jāgir lands of Bangalore; but it was soon reduced. On Shāhji’s death, Śivājī demanded his legal share of his father’s wealth, property and lands in the

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south. When Ekoji refused, Śivājī made an alliance with the Sultan of Golkonda and marched into Karnataka. By 1677, all except Thanjavur itself was under his command. At last, encouraged by his queen, Dīpāmbā, Ekoji surrendered. In return for a large sum of money, half the family jewels, and half the revenue on Shāhji’s southern jāgīrs, he was allowed to keep Thanjavur; and the jāgīr lands were restored to him. For her part in the affair, Dīpāmbā received the revenue of the districts of Bangalore, a grant that was to be handed on through the female line (see pp. 277-80 for Tryambaka’s discussion of women’s property). In addition, Ekoji was formally released from his obligation to the Bijapur sultanate: he was to rule as an independent king, answerable only to his half-brother in the Deccan. (For the complete treaty between Śivājī and Ekoji, see Takakhav 1921:459-62). This agreement was soon validated by Bijapur. For when Śivājī returned to the Deccan in c.1678, he was called upon to defend the Sultan against Mughal attack. A new treaty was signed: the Adil-Shahi government renounced all claims to Shāhji’s southern jāgīrs, including Thanjavur, and ceded all such claims to Śivājī. Ekoji’s well-founded fears of dependency on his half-brother were not removed until Śivājī’s death in 1680.

That independence too was short-lived. In the Deccan, Maratha opposition was at a low ebb. The Deccan Sultans were conquered in turn by the Mughals. In c.1687, the Mughal army entered Karnataka. Meanwhile, more of Ekoji’s kingdom was being eroded. As the power of Cikkadeva of Mysore (1672–1704) rose and Mughal dominion spread southwards, Ekoji’s territories in Karnataka became increasingly difficult to defend. A grant of Cikkadeva in 1686, for example, describes a number of victories over the Marathas. At one point, Ekoji was on the point of selling Bangalore to Cikkadeva when the Mughals seized it and sold it to him themselves. Cikkadeva then seized the adjacent districts also held by Ekoji. (The fortress of Arni continued to be a nominal dependency of Thanjavur until 1771.) By 1691, Thanjavur was controlled by the Mughals who received an annual tribute of four lakhs (although an army usually had to march on Thanjavur to collect it). Ekoji had shifted his allegiance once more: first from Bijapur to Śivājī; now from Śivāji to the Mughals. Thanjavur was completely cut off from the great Maratha confederacy that Śivājī had begun to build.

It is against this background of double isolation that the

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Thanjavur dynasty (figure 3), should be considered: the cultural isolation of a ruling Maratha elite amidst a Tamil-speaking population; the political and psychological isolation of a Hindu kingdom struggling to retain both independence and identity in the face of Mughal might.

1. Ekoji (Venkājī)= Dīpāmbā

(c.1630-86/7)

2. Śāhaji (Shāhji)

(r.1683-1711/12)

3. Serfoji (Sarabhoji)

(d. 1727)

4. Tukkoji (Tulajājī)

(d. 1735)

[7. Kathurājā]

5. Bavasāheb = 6. Sujanābāī

6. Saiyājī

7. Pratapsingh

(r.1740-63)

10. Tulzaji

(r.1764-89)

11. Amarsingh

(r.1787-98)

12. Serfoji II

(r.1798–1832)

13. Śivājī

(d. 1855)

Figure 3. The Maratha Rajas of Thanjavur

According to Marathi inscriptions in the Bṛhadiśvara temple, Ekoji died in 1682 (Gopalan 1980:ix; Marathi text, saka 1604, p.56; 1683, Subramanian 1928:17). The records of the East India Company make frequent references to him for a decade or more after that but this may indicate a confusion between him and his eldest son. Other sources (e.g. the Dharmakūta, intro.; Sahendravilāsa II.98–9; an inscription in Pattukottai) suggest that Ekoji abdicated in favour of Śāhaji in 1683-4, but did not actually die until 1686-7 (Subramanian 1928:17-18).5 According to the Marathi

5. For somewhat different dates based on the Modi documents of Thanjavur preserved in Danish archives, and for a useful discussion of the various calendrical systems used, see Strandberg 1983:22,40–43.

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inscription, the three sons ruled jointly; in practice, this seems to have meant that the younger ones acted as viceroys in their own subas. After Śāhaji’s death in 1711-12, Serfoji and Tukkojī are said to have ruled jointly until the elder’s death in 1727. Both Śāhaji and Serfoji died without heirs. Tukkoji ruled alone until

his death in 1735.

The history of the Maratha Rajas is dotted with small wars: a constant struggle for land and power between adjoining kingdoms. When the centre of Maratha opposition to the Mughals moved to Jiñjī, Śāhajī sent help to his cousin, Rājarām, and his queen, Tārābāï. Serfoji was involved in the division of the Maratha kingdom. Tukkoji concluded the war with Ramnad begun by his brother; sent help to Minākṣī of Trichinopoly; and expelled the Mughals from Madurai.

1736-9 was a dark period of disputed successions. Bavasaheb (also known as Ekoji II) died after a year. His queen ruled for a while before being imprisoned by a pretender, Kathurājā, who claimed to be the son of the heirless Serfoji. After a few days, he was deposed in favour of Saiyājī. Within two years, Saiyājī too was deposed in favour of an illegitimate son, Pratapsingh, who proceeded to remove all trace of his predecessor from the records. Pratapsingh ruled for twenty-three years, during which time the British entered the affairs of Thanjavur and made their first successful attempt to acquire territory in India by military attack. In 1799, Serfoji II (an adopted son) resigned the government of his kingdom into the hands of the East India Company, with a proviso safeguarding his own rank and maintenance: Thanjavur became a British province while its raja received a fixed allowance and a proportion of the revenue. When Serfoji II died in 1832, the same privileges were accorded to his son Śivājī until his death in 1855. The lack of natural (i.e. not adopted) male heirs at this point enabled the British to take over completely: in accordance with Dalhousie’s ‘doctrine of lapse’, the title and privileges of raja were abolished.

The intellectual milieu

The reigns of Ekoji and his three sons (1676-1736) have left an astonishing crop of literature in several languages. Telugu was inherited from the Nayaks (see Leslie 1983(2): appendix B), but the Telugu works of this period are largely inferior to those produced under the Nayaks. The literature in Tamil, the language of the

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people, is also not of the highest quality. But the contribution to Marathi and Sanskrit literature is considerable.

Of the Marathi authors of Thanjavur, perhaps the best known are Raghunatha Pandita, Anandatanaya, Gosavinandana and Subhan Rão. Most of their works are short compositions on purāṇic or religious subjects, or short metrical works describing Śāhaji, his mother Dīpāmbā, and the splendours of Thanjavur. As for Sanskrit literature, this was a period of the most intensive scholarship due in particular to the patronage of the royal family and the family of pandit-ministers that guided them.

Of the four kings of the period, Ekoji is remembered mainly for his continued use of the Telugu language at court, and of the cultural and musical traditions of the Nayaks.

Śāhaji was renowned as a scholar, linguist and composer. He seems to have been proficient in Marathi, Telugu, Sanskrit, Persian and Hindi, and a remarkable number of works in several languages are ascribed to him (Sastri 1934:xxviii-ix; Raghavan 1952:22). These are largely dramatic or poetic works; musical compositions, especially padas in praise of the family deity, Śrī Tyagaraja or Tyagesa of Tiruvārūr; and works dealing with the science of music. He himself is eulogised in many works, including the Sahendravilāsa by the revered saint Śrī Venkatesvara (Ayyāvāl). Several of Sahaji’s works concern themes that suggest a serious interest in the ideals of strīdharma (e.g. the stories of Parvati, Sītā, Draupadi; a eulogy of pativratadharma; a poem on a woman’s behaviour when her husband is away; another to his mother, Dīpāmbā; and so on). In 1693, probably under the influence of his minister, Tryambakarāya, Śāhaji renamed the village of Tiruviśanallur as Śāhajīrājapuram and made a gift of it to forty-five scholars and poets for the perpetual performance of sacrifices and the free creation of religious, literary and musical works. Raghavan’s excellent introduction to his edition of the Śāhendravilāsa gives the names and works of each of these pandits (1952:37–49). They include such famous names as Rāmabhadra Dīksita (adept in all the philosophies and known as the modern Patañjali), Bhāskara Dīkṣita, Vedakavi, Mahādevakavi and Śrīdhara Venkatesvara. As a result of Śāhaji’s beneficence, the village became the centre of scholarship in languages, literature, philosophy and medicine throughout the Maratha period in Thanjavur.

Kings Serfoji and Tukkoji continued these traditions of scholar

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ship and music, both composing works themselves and, like Śāhajī, patronising whole villages of learned men. Literature and inscriptions are eloquent in praise of their patronage.

The ministers who served and guided these scholar-kings were themselves great supporters of Vedic tradition and Sanskrit learning. They too performed sacrifices, patronised individual scholars, and endowed scholastic settlements.

Perhaps the most famous of these was Tryambakarāyamakhin (1665-1750) who, according to his own account was trained by Ekoji to be Śāhaji’s minister (Dharmāk.: intro.) Tryambakarāya is famous in south India even today both as a minister and as a writer on religious law (dharmaśāstra). In the Sahendravilāsa, he is described as Śāhaji’s learned minister, the performer of Vedic sacrifices and the patron of scholars (VI.40-4). His fame today rests in particular on the Dharmakūta, a massive Sanskrit commentary commissioned by Serfoji on the epic poem, the Rāmāyaṇa. It is an original and ambitious work, consisting of six separate and lengthy dissertations on six of the seven sections of the epic poem. Quite unlike other commentaries, it gives a step-by-step explanation of how the story of the Rāmāyaṇa accords with the precepts of religious law.

Figure 4 gives the genealogy of the ministerial family constructed according to the information given in Dhundhiraja’s commentary on the Mudrārākṣasa and Appadīkṣita’s Acaranavanīta (TD.18048/ 9; see also Krishnamachariar 1937: 246-8).

Gangadhara (see Pattukottai inscrip.)

Bāvājī

Gangadhara/Kākoji-Kṛṣṇāmbā

(minister to Ekoji)

Nrsimharāya (minister to Ekoji)

Tryambakarāya (1665-1750)

Bhagavantaraya

(minister to Śāhaji and Serfoji)

(minister to Tukkoji)

Anandaraya

(minister to Śāhaji and Serfoji)

Gangadhara

Nrsimharaya

Nārāyaṇarāya

Figure 4. The family of ministers

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As noted above, Tryambakarāya is known as the author of the Dharmākūta, and a patron of the court pandit and poet, Dhundhirājavyāsa (see pp. 10–13). Bhagavantarāya is said to be the author of the Mukundavilāsa, the Uttaracampu and the Raghavabhyudaya. Anandaraya is held to be the author of the Asvalayanagṛhyasutravṛtti, the Jīvānandanataka, the Vidyapariṇayanāṭaka and a commentary on it; and the patron of Vedakavi, Vasudeva Dikṣita and Appadhvārin among others. His son, Nrsimharāya, is said to be the author of the Tripuravijayacampū; while Tryambakarāya’s grandson, Nārāyaṇarāya, is said to have composed the Vikramasenacampu (Raghavan 1952:25-9; Krishnamachariar 1937: 246-7).

Of Dhundhiraja, the court poet, we know surprisingly little. He was a Maratha brahmin of Varanasi, resident at Svamimalai near Thanjavur. Although patronised by both kings (Sāhaji and Serfoji) and ministers (Tryambaka and Raghunatha), he seems to have had a special link with Śāhaji. For he describes himself as the king’s paurāṇika and, when he wrote the Śāhavilāsagītā, Śāhajī gave him the title ‘Abhinavajayadeva’. Finally, on the end page of Jñānavilāsagītā by Jagannatha (TD MS no.3792), there is a comment written in another hand that the MS was found in Varanasi and sent to Thanjavur by Dhundhirajayajvan (Raghavan 1952:20, 54-5). Figure 5 shows the genealogy assembled from the works ascribed to him.

Lakṣmaṇavyāsa / Lakṣmaṇasudhi

Dhundhiraja (vyāsayajvan)

Bālakrsna

Sankaradīkṣita

(author of Pradyumnavijaya)

Figure 5. Dhundhiraja, court poet

Among the many and varied compositions inspired or commissioned during this period of intense royal and ministerial example and patronage was Tryambakayajvan’s Strī-dharma-paddhati.

The women of the period

As anthropological fieldwork increasingly shows, the more orthodox

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ideas concerning women tend to be held even today by high-ranking, land-holding groups among whom patrilineage is strong and wives are economically dependent upon their husbands and their husbands families. Jacobson, for example, notes that the landed brahmins of Thanjavur and western Karnataka fit this category (1978:100). Certainly, Tryambaka’s concern in the Strī-dharma-paddhati seems to be solely with the imported Maratha elite, that is, with the prosperous (and largely kṣatriya) court at Thanjavur. There are no references to women agricultural labourers, market women, or any of the vast army of women who must have been living and working outside the context of the court. The few lower-class or ‘outsider’ women who are mentioned are referred to fleetingly, with either indifference (e.g. female servants) or disapproval (e.g. courtesans, gambling women, washerwomen, female mendicants, etc.; see section IIC, p. 171). The women in Tryambaka’s scheme of things are severely restricted personally, socially, economically, sexually -and the most extreme standards of orthodox and idealised behaviour are demanded of them.

But what do we know about the Maratha élite at court?

First, it seems that for the royal family at least polygamy was the rule. Apart from his chief wife, Dīpāmbā, Ekoji had another wife and nine mistresses who produced between them ten sons; as is the custom, daughters are not mentioned. Śāhaji had several mistresses; Serfojì three queens; and Tukkojì five wives and six concubines from various castes. This seems to have presented political rather than economic problems. Historians write of disputed successions, the interference of queens and mistresses in public life, court intrigues, poisonings, domestic tensions, and the consequent effects on the administration of the state (e.g. Subramanian 1928:23ff.). In such a context, a work prescribing the proper behaviour of women might well have appeared to both kings and ministers to be a project of vital importance.

Secondly, what do we know of any individual women at this Maratha court? In fact, the only woman who emerges as a distinct individual is Dīpāmbā (Dīpābai or Dīpāmbikā), Ekoji’s chief wife. It was she who was instrumental in arranging the conciliation between Ekoji and Sivājī, thereby playing a role so crucial to them both that it is commemorated in the treaty they signed (see pp. 13– 14 above). Dīpāmbā was evidently both influential and popular. She is frequently mentioned in works of the period and always in

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terms of praise. The Sāhendravilāsa, for example, gives an account of Dīpāmba’s marriage to Ekoji (1.47-56), her appearance and good qualities (1.57-61), and her pregnancy (1.62–7).

Dīpāmbā is also known to have been the special patron of Raghunatha Pandita, author of the Prāyaścittakutūhala and the Bhojanakutūhala among other works. In his Marathi work, the Narakavarnana, for example, he lists the Sanskrit and Marathi texts he has written and praises Dīpāmbā for her generous patronage. At least two of his Marathi works (the Narakavarnana and the Pativratadharma) are both devoted to stridharma and commissioned by Dipamba." The colophon of the Narakavarṇana reads as follows.

Dīpāmbā’s words are like the sacred scriptures (vedavacana.) She feels that because of Muslim influence, people are turning away from Hindu principles; and that is why she has asked Raghunatha to write on the religious role of women (stridharma). She has given a settlement for poets, a village called Dipāmbapuram, and she has built there a Siva temple like the one at Vārāṇasī. Dīpāmbā married Ekoji who is like Śiva incarnate; and she has had three sons, who are like the three great goals of human life (puruṣārtha) and who praise her greatly (Goswami 1932: vol.II, MS no.573).

The isolation of the Hindu kingdom of Thanjavur amidst Muslim domination seems to have led those in positions of influence to consider ways of reinforcing their own cultural ideals. Dīpāmbā, chief queen and later revered queen mother, was among those who took it upon herself to commission works of this kind (see also Gode 1954).

That a treatise on the proper behaviour of women was considered an appropriate response to the Muslim threat may be interpreted in several ways. The basic assumption of religious law (dharmaśāstra) is that, if every individual performs his allotted role, universal harmony will result. Dīpāmbā’s commission could mean that she was simply attending to the area of ‘righteousness’ (dharma) that was deemed of fitting concern for a woman. Alternatively, she

6. The Pativratopākhyāna is listed separately in the Thanjavur Catalogue of Marathi manuscripts, but closer inspection reveals that it is in fact identical with the Pativratādharma with the addition of one verse (Goswami 1932: II, MS. nos. 578, 579).

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may have believed women to be especially guilty of the fault of turning away from Hindu principles. She may also have believed that reinforcing the proper role of women in society was the surest way to restore the orthodox Hindu moral code and thus, by extension, the perfect world. Perhaps, like Bhuribai, she too saw the dutiful wife as ‘an embodiment of age-old goddess-like virtue and a vital support of the very firmament’ (Jacobson 1978:135). Certainly, as an educated woman she would have known the judgement of the Bhagavadgitā: ‘When wickedness (adharma) triumphs, it is the womenfolk who are corrupted; and once the women are corrupted, there will be the mixing of castes’ and all the horrors that that entails (i.e. hell and destruction; Gītā 1.42-4).

It is extremely tempting to suggest that the influence of Dīpāmbā is also to be felt in the composition of the Strī-dharma-paddhati. The Marathi Pativratadharma, which we know was commissioned by her, presents teachings on the ideal woman culled from the epics and purānas. The Strī-dharma-paddhati does much the same thing, but in greater depth and detail, and with greater recourse to dharmasastric works. Whether or not Dīpāmbā actually commissioned the latter, however, it seems safe to conclude that both treatises were inspired by similar fears and aspirations concerning women at that time.

Although neither Dīpāmbā nor Tryambaka give clear instructions regarding when a text like this might have been read, heard or studied by the women for whom it was written, we may hazard an informed guess. For it was a dharmaśāstric ideal— certainly for men but probably for women too-that one should spend the hot period after the midday meal listening to learned pandits reciting suitable passages from the epics and purāṇas (see section II, pp. 49 and 232-3). In Bana’s Kādambarī, for example, we read of court women such as queen Vilasavatī doing just this. It is therefore not unreasonable to assume that Tryambaka’s Strī-dharma-paddhati was written for precisely this purpose: to be read aloud and expounded upon for the benefit of the women of the Thanjavur court during their afternoon siesta period. The women themselves need not have been proficient in Sanskrit, or even literate. For the court pandit responsible for the recitation would no doubt have trans

7. adharmābhibhavat kṛṣṇa praduṣyanti kulastriyaḥ/ strīṣu duṣṭāsu vārsneya jāyate varṇasamkaraḥ // Gītā 1.41.

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lated freely and expansively into Marathi in order to bring these vital pronouncements concerning the proper behaviour of women to the attention of those for whom they were intended.

The literary genre: the Strī-dharma-paddhati in the context of religious law (dharmaśāstra)

As Derrett points out, the Sanskrit word for ’law’ (naya) rarely occurs in the voluminous literature of dharmasastra: for this is not the clear-cut world of legalities but the vaguer, utopian realm of precepts (1973(1):11).

If one asks an Indian villager about his religion, he describes not rituals nor the ascetic life but ‘righteousness’ (dharma). Derived from the root√dhr meaning ’to bear, support, maintain’, dharma means that which sustains creation, the eternal principle underlying the universe, the fundamental world order. The concept is both descriptive and prescriptive, indicating both what is and what should be: the real is the ideal. In the realm of individual action (svadharma for men, strīdharma for women), it refers both to what one does and what one ought to do. One’s action, defined by circumstance, is also one’s religious duty, for it was ordained to be so and is therefore right. In theory, at least, there is no conflict. Crucial to the concept of dharma in the Vedic age was the notion of sacrifice by which men nourished the gods so that they might have the strength to defeat the demons and uphold the law. In those days, the law of the universe was the law of sacrifice. Later, the concept extended beyond sacrifice (though still including it) to the moral world, to the realm of conduct. Dharma now came to mean any action that conformed to the cosmic order and permitted the individual to realize his or her allotted destiny. Any action contrary to dharma brought its own automatic punishment. As Manu writes, ‘When violated, dharma destroys; when preserved, dharma preserves; therefore dharma must not be violated, lest violated dharma destroy us.’[^8]

Thus the status and role in society of each individual, man or woman, not only reflects dharma but upholds it, and in doing so maintains the universe. One’s religious duty, therefore, is to conform

8. dharma eva hato hanti dharmo rakṣati rakṣitaḥ / tasmād dharmo nā hantavyo mã no dharmo hato ‘vadhīt // Manu VIII.15.

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to the moral precepts laid down by the specialists in and teachers of dharma in the vast literature of dharmasastra. These precepts are based on the three ‘sources of dharma’: the Vedas, tradition, and accepted custom; while Manu (II.12) and Yajnavalkya (1.7) also allow an internal guideline (ātmatuṣṭi; literally, ‘please yourself’) if there is a conflict between the three external authorities. These precepts-in all their complexity of detail, disagreement and debate-are the concern and content of dharmasastra.

Derrett divides dharmasastra literature into two basic groups: primary material presented in the form of sutras, smṛtis and purānas; and secondary material. The latter may be subdivided into five categories. First, there are the straightforward commentaries such as those by Medhātithi and Kullūka on Manu. Secondly, there are the works of comparative scholarship like Vijñānesvara’s Mitākṣarā; or Apararka’s commentary on Yajnavalkya. Thirdly, there are the more controversial treatises on special subjects such as Jimūtavāhana’s Dāyabhāga on inheritance. Fourthly, there is the scissors-and-paste type of digest (e.g. Varadarāja’s Vyavahāranirnaya; Hemādri’s Caturvargacintamani). Lastly, there is the superior digest that is more like a lecture with supporting quotations, such as Śrīdhara’s Smrtyarthasara; Devannabhatta’s Smṛticandrikā, the Parāśaramādhavīya, or Kamalākarabhatta’s Nirnayasindhu (Derrett 1973(1):24ff., 47ff.).

The Strī-dharma-paddhati seems to fit Derrett’s last sub-category best; yet it must be admitted that it is not in the same class as the great digests given as examples. As a treatise entirely devoted to the special subject of women, it also belongs to the third sub-category. In places, however, it shares characteristics of the fourth or inferior, scissors-and-paste type of digest: for example, most of the extremely lengthy section V consists of collected quotations with little or no additional comment.

Digests of both kinds are almost always the result of royal patronage. For a king sought to enhance his reputation as the upholder of dharma by employing scholars to compile appropriate works. This need would have been felt especially keenly by the orthodox Marathas of Thanjavur who, by Tryambaka’s time, were completely cut off from the Sanskrit culture of the north, the hallowed region called brahmāvarta (Manu II.17-18).

Tryambaka himself seems to have been familiar with the major south Indian works on dharma. There are even marked similarities

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with some of the best-known south Indian digests: Vaidyanathadikṣita’s Smṛtimuktāphala, Devannabhatta’s Smṛticandrikā, and the Parāśaramādhavīya. Indeed, the quotations and attributions made in the Strī-dharma-paddhati are often so similar to those in the appropriate sections of the Smṛtimuktaphala that a consultation with the latter has clarified the occasional doubtful reading in the former.

With regard to the primary material quoted, Tryambaka gives considerable weight to the sutras of Apastamba, in particular the Āpastambadharmasūtra and Haradatta’s commentary on it, the Ujjvalā (spelled Ujvalā throughout). This emphasis, together with Tryambaka’s use of the honorific plural for Apastamba alone (see section II B, pp. 136, 143, notes 34,44), suggests that he belonged to the Āpastambaśākhā of the Kṛṣṇayajurveda. This agrees with recent research on srauta ritual. According to Staal, for example, the southern tradition is ‘characterised by the preponderance of the Taittiriya school of Black Yajur Veda with Apastamba as the prevailing sūtra’ (1983:1, 170–1; map B; I, 3b, Table I). According to Smith, the Apastamba branch of the Kṛṣṇayajurveda was predominant for at least two millennia in much of south India and Maharashtra. Indeed, the Apastamba ritualists have maintained their śrauta traditions more completely than have the ritualists of any other Vedic śākhās; to the extent that, today, the Āpastambins comprise approximately 80 per cent of the practising Vedic ritualists in India (1984:xviii, 166 ff.; for recent śrauta traditions in Tamil Nadu in general and Thanjavur in particular, see also Kashikar and Parpola 1983:232-9, maps 4 and 4B).