‘Ashoka was no Shah Rukh Khan!’

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New Delhi, India -- Emperor Ashoka was a stubby man, who as a prince, visited a site in Odisha with his girlfriend. Writer Charles Allen discusses little-known nuggets about the king who made Buddhism world-famous, with Anuradha Varma.

<< Hindi film superstar Shah Rukh Khan played the emperor in the 2001 film, Asoka

Most reviewers of Charles Allen's book Ashoka: The Search for India's Lost Emperor, which hit stores last month, agree that the Indophile author humanises the second century BC emperor in a way that history books have tried and failed. For the UK-based historian however, this was only part of the agenda. The 71-year-old, who first heard about Ashoka in the '60s and later travelled across Pakistan, Afghanistan and India, following in the emperor's footsteps, discovered the mundane (Ashoka had bad skin), the shocking (Ashoka burnt his concubines, who didn't like to caress his rough skin), and the sublime (Ashoka never referred to himself as a Buddhist, since his dharma was intended for all subjects irrespective of their faith).

Excerpts from the interview with the author:

What piqued your interest in Ashoka?

When I went to Kathmandu in 1966 as an English teacher, I was taken to the city of Patan and shown some stupas that were said to have been built by an Indian emperor named Ashoka, who had introduced Buddhism to Nepal. I had no idea who he was. Later, while travelling in Sri Lanka in 2004, I discovered that they too, regarded Ashoka as the man who brought Buddhism to their island. In India, however, while the Ashoka chakra adorns the national flag, and the lion capital is the national symbol, there's little understanding of Ashoka. My studies sought to resolve this paradox.

Why call him 'India's lost emperor'?

In The Buddha and the Sahibs (2002), I wrote about the process by which Buddhism, which flourished in India for centuries, and its Sanskrit-based culture was recovered, initially, due to the efforts of Orientalists like Sir William Jones and James Prinsep. I wanted to examine why Ashoka was written out of Indian history. In moving from a genuinely all-Indian non-specific dharma, as promoted in all his edicts, to embracing Buddhism so blatantly with a stupa and vihara-building programme, Ashoka set himself (and Buddhism) on a fatal collision course with Indian religious orthodoxy. Jawaharlal Nehru knew what he was doing when he selected two Ashoka symbols for independent India that was to be free of caste and tolerant of all religions. These are lessons that some Indians do not want to learn.

Where did your research take you?

I visited the betterknown sights associated with Ashoka, travelling through India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. I also journeyed into previously unknown corners of Odisha. The most moving site I visited was one of his Minor Rock Edict sites, situated on a ridge overlooking the Narmada river west of Hoshangabad. There, Ashoka had a second, more personal, inscription that stated that he first went there when he was a prince with his girlfriend! When I read that I saw the emperor as a man of flesh and blood.

Your book says that Ashoka was a short man with rough skin, susceptible to fainting spells, who would have his concubines burnt if they didn't like his rough skin. How did you discover these facts?

Lost sources. In the Ashokavardana, his bad skin is ascribed to his meeting the Buddha in a previous existence and making him an offering of earth. At the South Gateway in Sanchi, he is de-Ashoka is known primarily from his edicts, but we also have three important literary sources: the Mahavamsa from Sri Lanka written in Pali, the Ashokavardana from China, originally written in Sanskrit, and the accounts of the Chinese travellers Faxian and Xuanzang that draw on other picted as a short, fat man with a bloated face - not at all like Shah Rukh Khan!

What was Ashoka's contribution to Buddhism?

There is evidence that he was a nominal convert even before the battle of Kalinga, but the suffering he caused at that battle shocked him deeply. My interpretation of Ashoka's life is that after spreading his message of dharma, which was reli giously inclusive, he made the fatal mistake of publicly espousing Buddhism and then set about transforming the religious landscape of India with his stupas and viharas. There is no doubt that in throwing his weight behind Buddhism, Ashoka transformed what was until then a relatively minor cult into a state religion, and that in subsequently undertaking a missionary programme, he transformed Buddhism into a world religion. However, he exhausted the state treasury in the process, which led to opposition from the Brahmins, who had traditionally conducted all religious duties. When Ashoka grew old, there appears to have been a revolution that sought to overthrow him. Certainly, after his death, his empire broke up.

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Ashoka: The Search for India's Lost Emperor by Charles Allen – review

The top of the Ashoka pillar at Sarnath in India. Photograph: The Art Archive/Alamy

It is difficult to imagine a life as full of grandeur and drama as that of the Mauryan emperor Ashoka, but it is more difficult still to imagine how such a life could ever have been lost or forgotten. From 270BC to 233BC, Ashoka ruled every part of the subcontinent except for India's southernmost tip, an empire larger than that of any Indian ruler before or since; his influence spilled even further abroad, into Sri Lanka and past the furthest border of present-day Afghanistan. He shepherded the rise of one of the world's major religions, and in a remarkable U-turn, he transformed himself from a callous conqueror into an intelligent and pacific ruler. Yet, as Charles Allen's Ashoka shows, the details of his life had to be prised out from the crevices of the past, in a process that revealed as much about the emperor as about the caprices of Indian history.

The rediscovery of Ashoka began with the rediscovery of India's Buddhist past. In the late 18th century, scholars were working at synchronising India's calendar of history with Europe's; the philologist William Jones called the resolution of this chronological gulf "the grand desideratum of oriental literature". Around the same time, Buddhist figurines and inscriptions began to be unearthed across India's northern plains. These archaeological finds presented something of a puzzle: they pointed to the vigorous heyday of a religion that was, in the India of the 18th and 19th centuries, in near-terminal decline. Buddhism had left behind no majestic temples, and "there were certainly no Buddhists in India and no Buddhist literature", Allen points out. Under whose patronage, then, did the faith once flourish as mightily as its artifacts seemed to indicate?

Allen is adept, if on occasion ploddingly so, at putting back together this vast academic jigsaw for our benefit. He recounts what Jones would have learned from Greek narratives of Alexander's attempted conquest of India and from subsequent ambassadorial communiqués from the Maurya dynasty's court. He traces the painstaking decryption of the Brahmi script, dating to the third century BC, by James Prinsep, an energetic assay master in the Calcutta Mint. He describes the assiduous legwork of members of the Asiatic Society, which yielded metal-plate inscriptions, sculptures of heartbreaking beauty, remnants of the humped Buddhist reliquaries known as stupas, and elaborate edicts inscribed, on Ashoka's orders, on slabs of rock across the subcontinent. And as Prinsep and his colleagues did, Allen reconciles these threads of evidence with strands from other texts – in particular from the Mahavamsa, Sri Lanka's great Buddhist chronicle – and thus arrives at the story of Ashoka as we know it.

None of this is new material, especially for Allen, who along with John Keay has worn something of a groove in scholarship about the Raj-era resuscitation of Indian history. Anton Führer, the deceitful archaeologist in Allen's The Buddha and Dr Führer (2008), flickers in and out of Ashoka's pages, trafficking in forged Buddhist relics and lying about his discovery of Kapilavastu, the city where the Buddha grew up. More significantly, Ashoka reprises the choicest parts of The Buddha and the Sahibs, Allen's 2002 book about men such as Jones and Prinsep – orientalists in the original, sweet vein of being intellectually curious about Asia, rather than in the pejorative Saidian sense. Allen emphasises that the study of ancient India would have suffered without scholars of the sort derided by Edward Said as "dead white men in periwigs" – a point that is both valuable and arguable, but also a point that he has made before.

An abundance of clues about Ashoka began to emerge from the work of these Indologists. The Mahavamsa spoke in glowing terms of an Indian king who had ordained his own son and daughter and sent them to Sri Lanka to spread the Buddha's message. Stone reliefs dug up from the sites of Buddhist stupas depicted an unusually unidealised king, "short, paunchy and with a grossly pumpkin-like face," as Allen writes. (The Ashokavadana, an ancient text in Sanskrit, called Ashoka's skin "rough and unpleasant to the touch".) Most intriguing were the rock edicts, scattered across an enormous area, all proclaiming a ruler's commitment to non-violence, to righteousness, and to a sophisticated notion of secularism.

By the final years of the 19th century, the contours of Ashoka's life had been established: his adroit power-grab that denied his elder brother the throne; his rampaging invasion of the eastern province of Kalinga, in which his army slew more than 100,000 men; his abrupt but long-lasting conversion to Buddhism; and his support of his new faith, so munificent that he is said to have built 84,000 stupas and donated millions of pieces of gold to the monastic order. But the physical legacy of this zenith of Buddhism was destroyed twice over: first by Hindu Brahmins, who were furious at Ashoka's sponsorship of Buddhism, and who would in subsequent centuries cannily co-opt the Buddha as one of the 10 avatars of Vishnu; and then by Islamist invaders, who razed stupas as well as the illustrious Buddhist university of Nalanda, in present-day Bihar.

Allen might usefully have devoted more space to this calculated domination of Buddhism by Hinduism, which so effectively wiped out traces of Ashoka's reign, and which contradicts descriptions of Hinduism as tolerant and ever-benign. (In 1905, during a lecture in Johannesburg, Mahatma Gandhi stoutly denied any decline of Buddhism in India, claiming: "No Hindu bore the Buddhist any ill will.") Allen is perhaps also too cursory in examining the effect of the rediscovery of Ashoka on the India of the late 19th century, although he briefly mentions the emperor's influence on a particular group of Indians: the new freedom-fighters.

To a burgeoning independence movement, Ashoka proved to be a touchstone on several levels. Gandhi praised Ashoka's non-violence and his latter-day lack of imperial ambition. Jawaharlal Nehru admired Ashoka's secularism and his efficient administration. For nationalists of all stripes, Ashoka was, along with the Mughal emperor Akbar, the soundest rebuttal to the colonial assertion that India's diverse territories had never been united as thoroughly as they were under the British. Ashoka inspired hope that, if India had once been whole and serene under the wisdom of a native ruler, it might well be similarly whole and serene again.

Samanth Subramanian's Following Fish: Travels Around the Indian Coast, will be published by Atlantic later this year.

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Reclaiming Ashoka - An Iron Age Interfaith Exemplar

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New Delhi, India -- Approximately 2280 years ago, Emperor Ashoka, third regent of India’s Maurya Dynasty, ascended the throne. This Iron Age family ruled India’ first empire, stretching from eastern Iran to Burma, including most of Afghanistan, Bangladesh, India, Nepal, and Pakistan. Scholars dispute the details but agree that Ashoka ruled for about four decades in the middle of the third century BCE.

<< The  four-headed “Ashoka Lion Capital,” originally placed on  Ashoka’s pillar in Sarnath (in today’s Uttar Pradesh), was adopted by India’s national emblem.

Once in power, Ashoka proved a tyrant. Growing up in the Kshatriya warrior caste, the young prince had burnished his reputation as a fierce, merciless fighter and hunter. Though one of the youngest of King Bindusara’s many sons, he proved his father’s best protector, mastering both negotiation and an iron fist for keeping the hinterlands quiet. He out-maneuvered his brothers, who perished by his hand, and developed strong enough allies in the court so that when the king died, father’s succession wishes were upended and King Ashoka took over. For most of the next decade he marched his armies through west and south Asia, becoming the most powerful, fearsome man on Earth.

Eight years into his reign Ashoka fought a bloody war to conquer Kalinga (roughly equivalent to the state of Orissa today), a small, sophisticated kingdom that had kept its freedom and had a significant army. It had no chance, though, against Ashoka’s military machine. “One hundred and fifty thousand were deported, one hundred thousand were killed and many more died (from other causes),” the king later confessed.

A Stunning Transformation

Ashoka’s conversion story after Kalinga is nearly unprecedented in the annals of religious history, though one comparison comes to mind. Several hundred years later a Jewish leader, Saul of Tarsus, was converted on the road to Damascus and became known as St. Paul, the point-person for spreading Christianity throughout the Middle East and Europe.

Within a year of Kalinga’s defeat , Emperor Ashoka converted to Buddhism and transformed from tyrant to philosopher-king. He changed what it meant to be king from divine representation to servant of the sangha, the Buddhist community. He envisioned and implemented a culture of peace that cares for all living beings. Along the way, his well-funded proselytizing took Buddhism from Italy to his west to Vietnam to his east.

What generated such a incredible turnaround!? Competing explanations abound, as one might imagine. One legendary answer, frequently quoted, provides this confession: What have I done? If this is a victory, what’s a defeat then? Is this a victory or a defeat? Is this justice or injustice? Is it gallantry or a rout? Is it valor to kill innocent children and women? Do I do it to widen the empire and for prosperity or to destroy the other’s kingdom and splendor? One has lost her husband, someone else a father, someone a child, someone an unborn infant.... What’s this debris of the corpses? Are these marks of victory or defeat? Are these vultures, crows, eagles the messengers of death or evil?

Whatever the details, Ashoka’s violent ambition morphed into a benevolent support for citizens of the empire and those beyond. For next 30 years, he turned into the good ruler people have dreamed about for centuries, or so the legend went. Of course, for nearly 2000 years most of what was known about Ashoka came from Buddhist texts written four to six hundred years after his death. The Vedic community, which he had abandoned, paid him no attention until 1915, when a linguistic puzzle was finally solved and Ashoka’s historic legacy finally swung into view.

The story goes back to 1828 when a brilliant Anglo-Indian archeologist and philologist, James Prinsep, managed to translate the ancient Brahmi language. Brahmi was the preferred language for the 33 “Edicts of Ashoka,” inscriptions we have today, carved in stone on huge, 50-ton “Ashoka Pillars “ as well as massive boulders and cave walls. Some of the inscriptions are brief, others run to hundreds of words. They were carved repeatedly in sites across the empire. The collection of 14 “Girnar” edicts, for instance, has been found at five sites and a shortened version in two others.

In these ‘letters’ to his people are more intimate than official. Ashoka refers to himself “Beloved by the Gods, King Piyadasi,” which means, “he who regards everyone with affection.” Not until 1915, when the last of the Edicts was discovered, do we find reference not just to King Piyadasi, but to Ashoka, confirming his connection to them all. What had been consigned to legend gained historic currency. Who emerged was a leader who championed equality, social just, religious tolerance and more. H.G. Wells wrote, "Amidst the tens of thousands of names of monarchs that crowd the columns of history, their majesties and graciousnesses and serenities and royal highnesses and the like, the name of Asoka shines, and shines, almost alone, a star."

The discovery woke India up to its hidden historical treasure. By the mid-twentieth century Ashoka’s reputation throughout south Asia returned to what it was over 2200 years ago. At the center of India’s flag is the Ashoka Chakra (see left), an image found on a number of the Edicts, representing virtue. Though he became a Buddhist, Ashoka’s achievements as a ruler are a matter of national pride today.

The Edicts themselves offer a personal glimpse into Ashoka’s world and what he hoped to engender. They tend towards the practical. In the first of the Girnar inscriptions, we read, “Formerly, in the kitchen of Beloved-of-the-Gods, King Piyadasi, hundreds of thousands of animals were killed every day to make curry. But now with the writing of this Dhamma edict, only three creatures, two peacocks and a deer are killed, and the deer not always. And in time, not even these three creatures will be killed.”  Promoting vegetarianism, but gradually.

What makes Ashoka singularly fascinating among great reformers in history is that he actually had the power to give expression to his vision. A practical administrator, he built accountability systems into his reforms. From the Edicts we can discern that…

He promoted equality, peacemaking, social justice, women’s rights, religious freedom, education, science, kindness to prisoners, sustainability, and universal free medical care for animals and birds as well as people.He developed major public works projects including hospitals, clinics, and universities. Rest houses between cities were built with wells, fruit trees and shade trees for weary travelers.He banned deforestation, most hunting, and sought to improve the lives of slaves.Socially, he called for respectful behavior, generosity, and moderation as consumers.Personally he advocated kindness, self-examination, truthfulness, gratitude, loyalty, and self-control, claiming that the power of love is greater than the power of the sword.

An Interfaith-Friendly Empire

Ashoka’s religious conversion changed his life and India’s. His Edicts, while steering away from rituals, dogma, and festivals, promoted Buddhist values in everyday living. His broad agenda expressed his understanding of Buddhist “dhamma” (from Pali) or “dharma” (from Sanskrit), a word rich in meanings about the disciplines which make life fulfilling and meaningful. Dhamma, in essence, calls for kindness to all life, truth telling, respect, and generosity. To promote the Dhamma, Ashoka built thousands of stupas (Buddhist worship sites) throughout the empire. He sent Buddhist teachers and priests to Syria, Iran, Egypt, Greece, and Italy; to Nepal, Tibet, and China; to Miramar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam, and he sent his daughter, Sanghamitta, and his son on Mahinda, both ordained monastics, to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). The young king, and the nation followed. Essentially, Ashoka’s missionary efforts transformed a young Buddhist reform tradition into a world religion.

Buddhist proselytizing sounds oxymoronic today, to be sure, but Ashoka’s doesn’t fit your stereotype of a missionary. He was not a philosopher or priest, instead working to improve peoples day-to-day living, albeit, with Buddhist values. Simultaneously, he had an interfaith agenda he pursued as seriously as Buddhism. He called for mutual respect among us all, regardless of religion. He encouraged non-Buddhist educators and asked all schools to teach about and appreciate all religions. Hindus, Jains, and Pagans were as fully welcome in this empire as Buddhists. He observed that harming someone else’s religion harms your own.

Ashoka’s new kind of civilization faded away, becoming legendary within 50 years of his death. Gradually Hinduism in India absorbed Buddhism back into the mother faith, and Buddhism was left to thrive beyond India’s borders in lands where Ashoka had sent missionaries.

Then 22 years after the 1893 World’s Parliament of Religions, history’s veil rolled back more than two millennia to reveal a global leader who achieved a peaceful, constructive, interfaith culture that lasted the better part of a century. His achievement is a prod for those who share similar dreams about the future. We should all be studying the Edicts of Ashoka.

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Quotations from Ashoka’s Edicts were translated by the Ven. S. Dhammika in his The Edicts of King Asoka: An English Rendering (1993), which is freely distributed online by Dharmanet International. Bhikkhu Dhammika is spiritual director of the Buddha Dhamma Mandala Society in Singapore.

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