My Son’s Inheritance: A Secret History of Lynching and Blood Justice in India

by Aparna Vaidik

My Son’s Inheritance: A Secret History of Lynching and Blood Justice in India is a provocative and disturbing examination of the history of lynching in the country.

Aparna Vaidik’s investigation traverses several centuries and offers powerful insights into the phenomenon. She demonstrates how violence is secretly embedded in our myths, folklore, poetry, literature, and language, and is therefore invisible. She delves deep into family history to further illuminate how widespread violence is in Indian society.

Framing her narrative as a message to her son, she acquaints him with his ancestors—those who abet and carry out lynching as well as those who are lynched. In this way, her son embodies both the violator and the violated, much like the country in which he will come of age. She lays bare the heritage of violence bequeathed from generation to generation and disabuses us of the myth that nonviolence and tolerance are the essence of Indian culture.

She argues that the perpetrators of violence are not just the state, the rulers, the police or the army but all of us who, through our silence and indifference, foster and perpetuate violence in India.

My Son’s Inheritance is a groundbreaking exploration of the phenomenon of lynching and the larger culture of violence that invests the social and political fabric of the country.

‘Searing, thoughtful, deeply personal, and profoundly moving, My Son’s Inheritance tells a story all Indians must hear and exposes a truth no Indian wishes to face.’
—Shashi Tharoor

‘Exploratory, powerful, persuasive, and highly readable.’
—Neeladri Bhattacharya

‘Provides a new perspective on the history of violence and the silence that shrouds blood justice.’
—Gogu Shyamala

Genres: India, History, Nonfiction

192 pages, Hardcover

Published January 1, 2020

About the author

Aparna Vaidik is an Indian historian, author, and educator. Her latest book My Son’s Inheritance: A Secret History of Blood Justice and Lynchings in India, published in January 2020, challenges India's prevailing narrative as an inherently peaceful culture.

Reviews

[Nandakishore Mridula · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hmm. I was seriously underwhelmed by this book, maybe because the title promised something and the content was something else.

The author sets out to prove that the non-violent "Hindu" culture is a myth; which does not require much proving, as any student of history worth her salt will know even if she does a superficial reading of our tumultuous past. The myth of the peaceful "Aryan" civilisation was an enlightenment myth, gleefully adopted by Indian liberals and thinkers in the early twentieth century. Instead of a monolithic "golden" culture which had degraded, what we have is a churning cauldron of conflicting cultures which have never cohered; a diverse set of beliefs which are being aggressively assimilated by Vedic Brahminism.

The author makes the book a personal journey, sandwiched between a prologue and epilogue which are both addressed to her son. Pivoting around the figure of her grandfather, a staunch Arya Samaj member and Hindu fundamentalist, she traces how Swami Dayanand Saraswati built up a mythical religion around the non-existent tradition of cow-worship and thus automatically "othered" the Muslim butcher, the evil entity which lusts after cow flesh and Hindu women. For this she uses two mythical figures from her ancestral town, Khatu in Rajasthan - Bharmall and Barbareek.

Bharmall belonged to Ms. Vaidik's family and was a "sata": the male version of a Sati (a widow who immolates herself on her dead husband's funeral pyre). But he did not immolate himself for the reason Satis do it - he did it because a Muslim butcher was taking away some cows for slaughter, and did not desist when Bharmall requested him to. Here, the violence is on one's own body but the Muslim is the cause.

The town has a temple, ostensibly dedicated to Vishnu, but in reality the deity there is Barbareek. Barbareek a little-known figure from the Mahabharata, popular only in certain regions of India: he is a Rakshasa (man-eating demon), born of Bhima's son Ghatotkacha by the demoness Hidimbaa. He had come to join the Mahabharata war; but he has a strange boon in the sense that while he will be undefeated, the side he is fighting on will lose. Krishna tricks him into offering his own head as a sacrifice so that he does not spoil the chance of the Pandavas winning, or overshadow Arjuna as a warrior. Then to commemorate his sacrifice, Krishna resurrects his head and deifies him! This story symbolises the systemic violence against the lower castes, who are often depicted as demons in Hindu myth: similar stories are aplenty - and since no villain dies but attains moksha (oneness with the Godhead), this violence is seen as pardonable.

The Barbareek myth thus played a dual role: it maintained social cohesion and did so by normalizing or invisibilizing violence. The fact that he was not ‘really’ killed but continued to exist obviated Krishna’s guilt (of beheading him in one version and tricking him into cutting off his head in the other). The victim ultimately is not the victim because he does not get annihilated. As the Rig Veda says: ‘You do not really die through this, nor are you harmed. You go on paths pleasant to go on.’ For the Lord is divine and therefore sinless, he doesn’t suffer the sins of killing; and the act of killing becomes one of sacrifice. The myth thus redeemed Krishna’s actions from criminality. Barbareek’s sacrifice created a morally pure universe where the Lord is simply the nimitt, the source of liberation. The end goal of acquiring divine status normalized the violence of the beheading. Apotheosis wrote out the violence.

These are the two tales the author chooses as pivots to hang her premise on. The mleccha Muslim as the hated other, and the "Hindu" Dalit as the willing victim. And this is entirely believable; that is how the Hindu ethos has been created and developed, ever since the late nineteenth century.

This was not a simple ‘politicization of religion’, a phrase that has come to dominate the way people understand the relationship between religion and politics. This phrase conveys a simplistic understanding where politics is seen as despoiling the purity of religion. It refers to an instrumentalist use of religion towards nefarious ends. Conceived in this way, it presents religion as existing in a pure realm untarnished by human agency and politics as being this-worldly and a product of baser human emotions and actions. However, this understanding ignores the fundamental political character of religion. Religion has always been political and politics has rarely ever not drawn on religion, its symbols or its vocabulary. They have always shared a symbiotic relationship.

So far, this was an excellent book. But... it stops there. After having laid this framework about how Indian culture invisibly internalises violence, the author does not take it further. There are no actual studies linking this manufactured ethos to caste and communal violence, of which there are a plethora of examples in modern India. So I felt I had read just half a book.

But that does not take away from its importance. Anyone reading this, especially someone who has a romantic view of India as a peaceful haven in the past, is due for a rude awakening. For me, that happened quite a few years back.

Every proud Indian should pay heed to the advice Ms. Vaidik gives her son.

So Babu, your parents’ story is one of miscegenation. Both Bharmall and Barbareek were your ancestors. Your father and I embodied them and now you do. This is your inheritance. Inheritance by definition is not always of your choosing. But while you are tethered to it, you are no way bound by it. You are free to choose the elements of your inheritance that you wish to own, to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. Your inheritance will acquire the meaning you give it.

[Krutika · Rating 5 out of 5]

~ r e v i e w ~
•
"Our gods kill only to raise the Other to the divine status. Violence inflicted by the gods doesn't remain violence but becomes a narrative of redemption and liberation. Even violent battles and lynchings become dharmayuddha. Shrouded and concealed in religious myths, this was India's secret history of blood justice." - Aparna Vaidik.
•
Although the word 'lynch' comes from the time of American Revolution, it has often been put to use in our country, even more so in the recent times. While we claim that our nation has been a torch bearer for preaching and practicing non-violence, Aparna puts forth many instances that teaches us otherwise. This book which serves as a memoir makes for an eye opener when it comes to how we have been viewing our mythological stories. When one finishes reading My Son's Inheritance, there are no longer unanswered questions but a simple fact that our country wasn't built on non-violence.
•
The entirety of this book is addressed to Aparna's son whom she fondly refers to as Babu. A simple encounter with her neighbour, sets her mind whirring about how unfairly we associate violence with only muslims. It is then she goes ahead to think of her grandfather who was closely associated with Arya Samaj, who believed in Gaurakshak. Through various pieces of information, she presents to us the history of beef-lynchings in India. Although in the past, cows were slaughtered by Hindu butchers, with the onset of Arya Samaj, this came to an end. She also mentions the coming together of Rajput and Vaishnavism. Through her grandfather, she visits places that has shrines and tablets dedicated to cow protectors (Bharmall) and learns how lynching first came into existence.
•
When she moves on to explain how we have been romanticizing our myths that portrayed worthy and righteous men getting lynched or killed so that the gods can win, it made me rethink the way I have been perceiving such stories all these years. She doesn't stop there but goes on to talk about how casteism came into existence. How Brahmins are deemed to be of the highest value while Dalits were associated with the lowest of low jobs.
•
There are mentions of Jyotirao Phule and his wife, Savitribai Phule who set up schools for Dalit and Muslim children at a time when they weren't allowed to be educated. The vicious cycle which didn't allow Dalits to have access to education was broken through them. I found this book fascinating for it covered a multitude of aspects be it religion or mythology, or something as simple as humanity. In spite of being written realistically, there's an intimate touch to Aparna's way of writing probably because of the fact that it was addressed to her son or because of the constant recollection of her grandfather's involvement in Gaurakshak. This book has powerful narration, often making me highlight big chunks of lines ever so frequently. My Son's Inheritance is a brilliant book that makes one think about the choices we make, the paths that we have been following in the name of tradition and how casteism has come to be so important that we have pushed humanity to the background.
•
She concludes with this hard-hitting/beautiful message to her son - "Inheritance by definition, is not always of your choosing. But while you are tethered to it, you are in no way bound by it. You are free to choose the elements of your inheritance that you wish to own , to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. You inheritance will acquire the meaning you give it."
•
Rating - 5/5.

[Jayaprakash Satyamurthy · Rating 5 out of 5]

India is thought of as the home of nonviolence, Hinduism as a repository of high minded spiritualism. In this book, addressed to her son, with an eye on the future, historian Vaidik interrogates her own family history to start unearthing a hidden history of xenophobic, bigoted violence in India. She deconstructs legends, analyses history and draws on the dark legacy of lynching in America to show how Hindu culture has valorised violence against perceived inferiors and outsiders by projecting a sense of victimisation and by erasing pluralistic narratives of our real and imagined past and present. Another essential read if you want to understand how things like the 2020 Delhi pogrom are not aberrations but a part of larger cultural currents.

[Krutika · Rating 5 out of 5]

~ r e v i e w ~
•
"Our gods kill only to raise the Other to the divine status. Violence inflicted by the gods doesn't remain violence but becomes a narrative of redemption and liberation. Even violent battles and lynchings become dharmayuddha. Shrouded and concealed in religious myths, this was India's secret history of blood justice." - Aparna Vaidik.
•
Although the word 'lynch' comes from the time of American Revolution, it has often been put to use in our country, even more so in the recent times. While we claim that our nation has been a torch bearer for preaching and practicing non-violence, Aparna puts forth many instances that teaches us otherwise. This book which serves as a memoir makes for an eye opener when it comes to how we have been viewing our mythological stories. When one finishes reading My Son's Inheritance, there are no longer unanswered questions but a simple fact that our country wasn't built on non-violence.
•
The entirety of this book is addressed to Aparna's son whom she fondly refers to as Babu. A simple encounter with her neighbour, sets her mind whirring about how unfairly we associate violence with only muslims. It is then she goes ahead to think of her grandfather who was closely associated with Arya Samaj, who believed in Gaurakshak. Through various pieces of information, she presents to us the history of beef-lynchings in India. Although in the past, cows were slaughtered by Hindu butchers, with the onset of Arya Samaj, this came to an end. She also mentions the coming together of Rajput and Vaishnavism. Through her grandfather, she visits places that has shrines and tablets dedicated to cow protectors (Bharmall) and learns how lynching first came into existence.
•
When she moves on to explain how we have been romanticizing our myths that portrayed worthy and righteous men getting lynched or killed so that the gods can win, it made me rethink the way I have been perceiving such stories all these years. She doesn't stop there but goes on to talk about how casteism came into existence. How Brahmins are deemed to be of the highest value while Dalits were associated with the lowest of low jobs.
•
There are mentions of Jyotirao Phule and his wife, Savitribai Phule who set up schools for Dalit and Muslim children at a time when they weren't allowed to be educated. The vicious cycle which didn't allow Dalits to have access to education was broken through them. I found this book fascinating for it covered a multitude of aspects be it religion or mythology, or something as simple as humanity. In spite of being written realistically, there's an intimate touch to Aparna's way of writing probably because of the fact that it was addressed to her son or because of the constant recollection of her grandfather's involvement in Gaurakshak. This book has powerful narration, often making me highlight big chunks of lines ever so frequently. My Son's Inheritance is a brilliant book that makes one think about the choices we make, the paths that we have been following in the name of tradition and how casteism has come to be so important that we have pushed humanity to the background.
•
She concludes with this hard-hitting/beautiful message to her son - "Inheritance by definition, is not always of your choosing. But while you are tethered to it, you are in no way bound by it. You are free to choose the elements of your inheritance that you wish to own , to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. You inheritance will acquire the meaning you give it."
•
Rating - 5/5.

[Shriya Dasgupta · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The perpetrators of this violence have not always been the state, the rulers, the police or the army but also our silence. Our looking away from inconvenient truths, our blindness to our social privilege, and in our ability to pass off our unearned privilege as merit or as advantages earned by hard work. It makes us either remain silent or glorify non-violence as our essence. This is how, babu, we let our silence lynch our souls."

Historian Aparna Vaidik in My Son’s Inheritance which is written in the form of a letter to his son and is part-memoir, part-information, debunks the myth of India being the non-violent land of Gandhi, Buddha and depicts how the nation’s history is rooted in lynching and violence. She says that it is the non-acceptance of the elite that makes us other-ise the violent deeds till it affects us.

Talking of her memory of her grandfather, she traces the inception of Arya Samaj, gaurakshaks and the first beef-lynchings in India. One thing I really related to was how the fight becomes a lot more difficult when you see attributes like Islamophobia or caste prejudice inside your family. How do you term someone you love so dearly as a fascist then?

What is evident in every chapter of this book is the author’s scholarship and yet it hasn’t fallen victim to academic jargons . It is a fast-paced, racy book that can be read in a few hours. However, it might take some time to absorb the content and realize where we stand. The book, using violence as the theme, is a reflection of India itself.

The last lines of the book aptly summarises its entire essence:

"This is your inheritance. Inheritance by definition is not always of your choosing. But while you are tethered to it, you are no way bound by it. You are free to choose the elements of your inheritance that you wish to own, to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. Your inheritance will acquire the meaning you give it."

[Rama · Rating 5 out of 5]

A true historian never lies

Aparna Vaidik, granddaughter of a Gorakshak and wife of a pastoral community person (Perhaps a Jat). She, in her book ‘My son’s inheritance and -A Secret history of Lynching and Blood Justice in India’ boldly erased the lines between beef eaters, deemed as lower caste and cow protectors who boast themselves of belonging to higher castes.

Her quest to find the origin of lynching started at a dining room conversation with her husband. One of my friends Kalyani once told me that -most of the Brahmin family heads uses the words perpetrators, Pakistani friends when they are mentioning about Muslims -citing them the cause for every problem of India. Aparna Vedik tried to find out the historical rooting of such hatred conclusions which usually expressed by upper caste, middle-class circles. In her pursuit of finding the motive of popular disbelief prevailing about lower caste and Mulsim population -she derived to a deduction that ‘The history of violence is one of the tolerances towards violence’. She observed that the silence towards the violence on unprivileged sections is itself a big violence.

Cattle rearing once was the enormous economical source of India. Instead of respecting the populace who lived on that occupation, their status was curtailed to mere workhands. The reverence to which they are qualified was gradually shifted to the animals they are rearing. Cow switched as a symbol of worship, whereas the individual custodian of a cow was considered as traitor.

Aparna dug the historical times when the Govrakshak movement started. Caste classification and suppression in this caste hierarchy system -the prominent features of Hindu religion -once were questioned and confronted by the victimized people. At this juncture Arya samaj religion showed up as saviour of lower castes which were transferring their faces to other non-Hindu religions. Partially succeeded in this mission, Arya Samaj focussed on Gowrakshak movement -once upon a time was prominently penetrated through urban, rural privileged classes.

Aparna brilliantly depicted the process of politicization of religion. Instead of giving it nefarious insight, she cited this method as essential prerequisite for any movement. Muslims used masjids as their first places of social movements. The nationalistic movement surfaced at that time also used worshipping gatherings for the propaganda in favour of Independence. That might be ground for our Hindu-istic freedom struggle carried out by our mighty national leaders.

She defined the history as ‘the intellectual and ideological orientation’ of a historian on gathering and interpretation of evidence, availed through different means. She observed that present histories did not take the human experiences of this land into consideration, instead they were forcibly fitted in European frames. But there are abundant pasts which did not flow in the present, she detects. She magnificently spotted the origins of portraying violence committed by so called Aryans as non-violence and the defensive struggles made by sublateral communities as demon doings.

Interestingly in this book she quoted the poetry written Gogu Syamala. She mentioned many places, castes, languages, literature and cultural ways of southern India where more caste struggles took place than in North India. Her acquaintance with south India take over this book to the hearts of Dravid readers.

[Harsh Kumar · Rating 3 out of 5]

When I first read the name of the book I was immediately intrigued. That should inform you of my biases. For a moment there was an immediate retaliation in my mind; it is definitely not what I learned from my history textbooks. There I read about Ashoka, Buddhism and Gandhi. The theory that the Indian Freedom movement was non-violent because it drew from the non-violent history of India.

But as I thought a little more I was immediately reminded of a ridiculous scene from Ramacharitmanas the TV show. This is from what I remember of a show I watched when I was a kid, so apologies for any inaccuracies. This is the scene just before Sita was kidnapped. A deer catches the eye of Sita and she asks Ram to capture it, and Ram runs off with his bow and arrow, and a giant rope to catch a deer. As an eight or nine year old, I was utterly confused. Who the hell catches a deer in a forest with a rope? What sort of idiocy is this? I now find it completely hilarious. The sheer length to which I culture goes to avoid mentioning (and acknowledging) any violence is ridiculous. And that is the central thesis of this book. I found this really interesting.

Now as for the quality of writing in this book, I am not impressed. It is very obvious that this book is written by an academic who hasn’t got a lot of experience writing for a general audience. There are a few sentences in there that flow right off the mouth, but most of them are quite contrived.

I personally will use this book as an entryway to more academic writing about the history and sociology of India. This book has a lot of references and I will try to go about reading them soon.

[Shivangi]

"Violence is also India's heritage that has been bequeathed from generation to generation. The history of tolerance is also one of tolerance towards violence... The perpetrators of this violence have not always been the state, the rulers, the police, or the army but also our silence. Our looking away from inconvenient truths, our blindness to our social privilege as merit or as advantages earned by hard work. It makes us either remain silent or glorify non-violence as our essence. That is how we let silence lynch our souls."

Tracing the evolution of the Gaurakshak movement, the text is filled with important questions that dwell upon the history of this land, its people, and their values. Through a rather pointed study of the historical and the popular, she analyses these values that we are often quick to consider as absolute, and "pure". Gradually uncovering the way discourse seeps into our personal lives, the kind of things it normalizes, and at what cost.

"Inheritance by definition is not always of your choosing. But while you are tethered to it, you are no way bound by it. You are free to choose the elements of your inheritance that you wish to own, to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. Your inheritance will acquire the meaning you give it."

[Shivam · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is an attempt to expose Upper Caste Hinduism and its violent root which revolves around otherization of Muslims and Dalits.

I loved the build up that the author traces to her family hierarchy and how it is laced in violent acts in name of culture. The backdrop of mythical characters - Barbareek and Bharmal and their roles in normalising violence was thought provoking.

However, the book just stops there and doesn't offer any studies or links to modern day narratives or facts on communal violence.

This was a brave book but not top notch. At times, I felt the author was a bit biased as well. However, that doesn't take away from the importance of the topic. A must read for all the Right inclined folks. An open mind can broaden your perspective.

[Sitara · Rating 4 out of 5]

My son’s inheritance: A secret history of lynching and blood justice in India is at its core a history book. What makes it stand out from the rest in its field, is its topic of interest and the topics exploration from then to now, and the prose that it has been written in.

Prof Vaidik deftly navigates a story that is as much the present of modern India, as is its past. In writing it to her son, she weaves in personal anecdotes and thoughts, fact, and imagery.

Whether it is over the cow, or a holy book - lynching is now normalised as a form of justice. As much as it has come up the surface in the boiling kettle of todays political reality, lynching is perhaps inherent in the Indian cultural and historical mindset, and steeped in the tea that is India today.

[Ubah Khasimuddin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Short read that definitely helped me understand more about the Hindu religion but I couldn't give more stars because she gets very much into the weeds of explaining things and I got very much lost. I like the premise of the book and what she is arguing - that blood justice, like lynching in the USA, is about keeping one's supremacy. This would probably be a good book for a university class, taught alongside Isabel Wilkerson's Caste. I think the themes ultimately are similar.

[Carole · Rating 5 out of 5]

A brilliant exploration of myths, stories, and other violence-laden cultural artifacts that abound in India, while (the author contends) it tells itself it is a peaceful place. In this era of the divisive Modi government, protests in the streets about religious freedom, and enormous controversy over politics, this book is timely and essential.

[Piyush Kaushik · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book hits home to me since growing up in Rajasthan and knowing most of the references first hand. The explanation of deep rooted casteism and violence in our history is thought provoking. I was so hooked that it became my fastest read yet. And I am definitely going to read it again.

[Chandan Pandey · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is a point of view to rising from quest to answer the mystry surrounding the grandfather. However, cannot be generalized on history of lynching in country.

[A. B. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lots of interesting insights into the socially structured and sanctioned modes of violence that are integral to the Indian set-up.

[Areeb Ahmad (Bankrupt_Bookworm) · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The perpetrators of this violence have not always been the state, the rulers, the police or the army but also our silence. Our looking away from inconvenient truths, our blindness to our social capital, and in our ability to pass off our unearned privilege as merit or as advantages earned by hard work. It makes us either remain silent or glorify non-violence as our essence."

RATING: 4/5

On the night of 28 September, 2015 in Bisara village near Dadri in Uttar Pradesh, a mob of angry villagers attacked the home of 52 year old Mohammed Akhlaq, killing him, under the been taking matters into their own hands. It is also unsurprising that Muslims have faced the worst of it. Considering the current state of affairs, Aparna Vaidik's book seems quite timely. It released earlier this year and I have had an eye on it since. I am glad I finally got to read it. Structured as a letter to her young son, Vaidik briefly looks at how violence has always been deeply ingrained in Indian society. The start is a bit wobbly. She addresses her son "babu". I can't stand that word. Plus, the (over)use of Hindi painstakingly followed by English translation felt strained. In the main text, she explores the rise of Arya Samaj, the growth of the idea of cows as holy, and the subsequent Othering of Muslims, Christians, & Dalits as reprehensible and immoral.

By the by, she also looks at her grandfather's life, a man who embraced Arya Samaj and all that it stood for. These parts are perhaps the most fascinating sections of the book and I wish she had focused more on it. While I did appreciate her expansive vision, given the short length of the book, I desire more detail. I also felt that she went off on tangents that were perhaps too tangential and didn't gel in properly with the line of her arguments. This was most noticeable for me when she talked about characters from the Mahabharat. I did see what she was attempting to do but the linkages were tenuous. I think a longer work with proper space for Vaidik to develop her train of thought would have vastly better. But all that being said, I was impressed with how she examined the valorization of violence in India, how pluralism is increasingly getting eroded, and how there is no golden past to look back upon. Ultimately, these incidents happening across the country are not really exceptions, but the actual rule and we must try to understand the implications of that.