By Camil Parkhe
Over the past few days, virtually every news channel and YouTuber has been interviewing Bapat. In the last two days, Raj Thackeray’s speech is also said to have attracted tremendous TRPs, though for an entirely different reason.
It is rather like the enormous TRP generated by Dahi Handi celebrations across Maharashtra.
News channels have unleashed their inexperienced reporters on Bapat, bombarding him with questions. Judging by the quality of some of those questions, the spectacle has become a source of considerable entertainment.
Even several veteran journalists appear to have become Abhimanyus in their attempts to corner him.
Bapat simply does not fall into anyone’s trap.
Journalists deliberately provoke him with pointed questions about God, religion, atheism and related subjects, apparently hoping to make him lose his composure.
This has prompted many people—including some of his staunch supporters and admirers—to offer him unsolicited public advice: Bapat should restrict himself to his “patented” issue of DJs and noise pollution and stop bringing Sanskrit maxims, and references from the Ramayana and Mahabharata, into his arguments.
Yet Bapat has not lost his balance. He has carefully avoided making statements that could land him in legal trouble or hand ammunition to his opponents.
Almost every major political leader in Maharashtra has, by now, taken note of Bapat.
I frequently visit Narayan Peth in Pune three or four days a week. I used to think that I might eventually run into Vidyānand Bapat on the streets.
His face and body language have now become familiar to a large number of people. I, too, have often thought that I should interview him.
But I had decided to wait until the present uproar subsided.
Then came the incident in which he was attacked.
Given the security concerns, the police and others have advised Bapat not to venture out alone. I therefore assumed that the Bapat saga would gradually die down.
I also assumed that, taking the advice of his well-wishers seriously, he would for some time avoid speaking on sensitive issues other than noise pollution.
But that has not happened.
The other day, while travelling, I listened to another interview with Bapat. It answered a question that had been on my mind.
As usual, the journalist conducting the interview was young and inexperienced.
Bapat repeatedly made it clear that his objective was not cheap publicity or shallow popularity.
The journalist asked two questions, and Bapat’s answers made his position remarkably clear.
“I do not give interviews for cheap publicity or superficial popularity. But if these continuous interviews help create public awareness about noise pollution caused by public events, traffic congestion, inconvenience and hardship to ordinary people, and interference in the daily lives of others—and if that leads to positive change—then I will continue giving interviews.”
Bapat has taken a position against the nuisance caused by public celebrations of all religions on roads and in public spaces, as well as celebrations commemorating great personalities—what he himself referred to as “Jayanti-Mayantī.”
He believes that such festivals and events should be held in closed halls or in ways that do not cause inconvenience to others.
The journalist then asked:
“Do you ever think about whether the God for whom all these festivals and celebrations are held would approve of them?”
Bapat’s answer was unequivocal:
“If I do not believe in the very existence of God, how can I possibly think about what God would feel?”
That answer goes to the heart of the matter.
Indian society is deeply religious. Caste and religion have been extremely important forces in our social life and politics for generations, and their effects can be seen repeatedly in different forms.
As a result, people often feel compelled—or find it advantageous—to display their caste and religious identities, directly or indirectly.
We see the same phenomenon even when Indians settle or travel abroad.
In a country whose Constitution establishes a secular state, openly religion-based politics and social mobilisation have nevertheless become firmly established over the past several decades.
This is precisely why many prominent figures in public life and politics, even when personally atheist, have avoided taking a firm public position on their views about God and religion.
Whatever their private beliefs, many have preferred to reassure the public: “We are people of faith; we are not like them.”
There was a similar hesitation within the rationalist movement led by Dr. Narendra Dabholkar. The movement consistently avoided taking a direct position on God and religion.
The underlying fear—then as now—was that if it openly challenged belief in God and religious faith, the religious majority would turn against the movement.
In his various interviews, Bapat frequently invokes episodes from the Mahabharata, Sanskrit verses and Marathi maxims to support his arguments. He cites English books and Western thinkers. In defending his civil liberties, he invokes the fundamental freedoms and rights guaranteed by the Constitution written by Dr. B. R. Ambedkar. At the same time, he openly draws support from the ideas of Dr. Narendra Dabholkar.
When Bapat made it clear in his very first interview, without any disguise and without worrying about the consequences, that he was an atheist, many people were genuinely shocked.
He frequently reminds people of Tukaram’s teaching:
“Let truth and falsehood bear witness within my own mind;
I shall not accept something merely because the majority does.”
Many years ago, when Dr. Shriram Lagoo declared, “Retire God,” it caused an enormous uproar. The reason was simple: the majority of society is religious.
Dr. Lagoo’s direct opposition to religion and his rejection of the existence of God consequently placed the Maharashtra Andhashraddha Nirmoolan Samiti in a difficult position.
At the time, the organisation arranged public dialogues in villages between Dr. Shriram Lagoo and Dr. Narendra Dabholkar on the concepts of God, faith and superstition.
In these dialogues, Dr. Dabholkar argued that his movement was not opposed to people’s faith, the concept of God or religious customs and traditions, but to superstitions that harmed society and facilitated different forms of exploitation.
In my view, this amounted to avoiding the central question while appearing to address it.
The Maharashtra Andhashraddha Nirmoolan Samiti published booklets of these dialogues in both Marathi and English. A close reading of those discussions makes the point clear.
The rationalist movement drew a distinction between faith and superstition. Its stated position was that it opposed harmful and exploitative superstition, not faith itself.
Yet it rarely provided a satisfactory explanation of what, precisely, distinguished faith from superstition.
Vidyanand Bapat has now gone one step further than even Dr. Narendra Dabholkar. While making his case for constitutionally guaranteed individual freedom and rights, he has unequivocally rejected the existence of God.
In doing so, he has struck directly at the root of the issue.
So far, nobody has really managed to confront Vidyanand Bapat head-on on these questions.
Perhaps that is why he has become such an irresistible subject for the media.
But precisely for that reason, my advice to Bapat remains the same: he should stop giving interviews for a while.
Not because his arguments are weak.
Quite the contrary.
He should stop because the media has discovered that he makes compelling television—and the more he is provoked, the more the spectacle becomes about him rather than the serious public questions he has raised.
If Bapat’s real objective is to generate a debate about noise pollution, public space, civic rights and the freedom of citizens to live their daily lives without unnecessary disruption, he should not allow the media to turn that debate into a circus.
Let the arguments speak for themselves.
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translated from marathi
