Pandits, pyres and power

Andrew Roberts, a Cambridge historian, recently made an extraordinary programme for the BBC, arguing that India should be grateful for the benefits conferred on it by the British empire. His view of the colonial encounter, which verged on the Pythonesque, listed the banning of the practice of sati (suttee, widow burning) in 1829 as one of the civilising processes of the empire. His naming this relatively rare practice as a powerful symbol of pre-modern Indian barbarity continues an argument in circulation about 200 years ago. Sati was one of the major sites of contention between colonial officials, missionaries and the Bengali male elite in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. Lata Mani's book argues that the debate was really about the nature of Indian society and Hindu tradition, as she examines the discourses surrounding the ban, both colonial and indigenous, anti and pro, pointing out a striking feature: although the debate centred on women, Indian culture and society, the sati herself is not discussed nor does she speak, she is merely the grounds for struggle in the debate of wider issues. Mani shows how the colonial bureaucracy relied on pandits' interpretation of often-contradictory Brahminical scriptures, to create their laws. The British saw the scriptures as more authoritative than custom, for they gave rise to religious and ultimately social practices.

The writings of the indigenous male elites on sati are fascinating sources for this critical moment in the so-called Bengal renaissance. This debate shows the broad spectrum of views on sati among the bhadralok , the "gentry" that campaigned against the practice, most famously in the writings of Rammohan Roy, which again invoked the scriptures in support of the ban, but was also the group among which most of the satis were found, these occurrences being reported in the new vernacular press in Bengali as everyday events, mentioned as part of the male obituaries. Mani highlights key features of this debate, as it shows the bhadralok may be an emerging middle class but does not necessarily share the liberal views of the western bourgeoisie. In broader cultural terms, she argues that we are seeing the emergence of discourses on competing versions of modernity, while tradition itself is being contested and transformed. Mani then turns to looking at missionary discourse and European eyewitness accounts that contain both horror and fascination for the heroine or victim in what was perceived as a religious ritual. Her analysis, restoring agency to the woman and discussing the materiality of her suffering, finds that sati was usually embarked on by the widow for secular reasons, notably the lack of emotional and financial support, or through coercion, being tied up or drugged.

The furore surrounding the sati of Roop Kanwar in Deorala, Rajasthan, in 1987, which was condemned in the liberal press but given massive popular support, has led to a reconsideration of sati in the past decade in special issues of periodicals, in Anand Patwardhan's documentaries, in Sakuntala Narasimhan's Sati : A Study of Widow Burning in India and in John Hawley's Sati : The Blessing and the Curse .

Mani's book stands apart from these by focusing on a wider range of discourses during the period around the ban. Nonetheless, an introductory chapter on the practice of sati and a longer conclusion, discussing issues such as how sati becomes part of the frame for debating "the women's question" in the 19th century, would have been welcome. But Contentious Traditions is less about the practice of sati than about wider issues of colonial discourses, feminist history and the creation of an Indian bourgeoisie. Mani's presentation of solid archival research, powerfully argued and clearly written, makes it essential reading for students of modern Indian history and culture.

Rachel Dwyer is lecturer in Gujarati and Indian studies, School of Oriental Studies, University of London.