The Utopian Vision

Utopia is a corollary to ideology, and the ethical nationalism of wrestling presages an anachronistic image of India as a country of villages and akharas populated by men of great physical strength and moral stature. The image is as pure as it is necessarily vague and visionary. While there are obviously elements of nostalgia built into this utopia—the golden age of past perfection—it is for the most part an image of progressive change. The utopia which the wrestler/writers herald is sharply juxtaposed to the dystopia of modernity. Akharas replace tea shops and cinema halls, milk replaces tea as the drink of choice, earth replaces facial cream, mustard oil replaces scented hair tonic, and the tight langot replaces all that is vulgar in the world of sensual, sartorial fashion.

From the perspective of someone who does not appreciate the wrestler’s view of the body, such an image of progressive change would seem shallow and misguided. It does not deal with the larger issues of policy, planning, and economic development, which is to say that it seems more fanciful than functional. The wrestler’s utopian vision does not contain a formula for revolutionary changes in social structure or civic organization. Having become disciplined wrestlers, it is argued, people will otherwise go about their lives in a normal fashion. The citizen wrestler is called upon to change his attitude and way of living rather than the type of work he does or the practical goals he envisions for himself and his children. Subtle subversion is regarded as the means by which immorality and deceit are to be leached from the national fabric. Thus, a wrestling politician will be less susceptible to corruption and will work for the common good; a wrestling police officer will sacrifice his personal gain to the end of greater social justice; a wrestling dairy farmer will not dilute the milk he sells, thus insuring the better health of all concerned; and so on, through the ranks of all occupations, roles, and institutions.

The utopian future is, admittedly, a two-dimensional place conceived of by wrestlers in primarily somatic terms. They almost wholly ignore questions of economic growth, political power, and development, as well as other national concerns. Theirs is a circumscribed utopia, but not one bounded by ideals of communal living and isolated simplicity. The future is cast in terms of picturesque rural beauty: fertile fields, fresh air, shade trees, and cool streams. Although pro-rural, the utopian future is not expressly anti-urban. In fact, given the poetic and visionary nature of wrestling rhetoric, it is fairly easy to cast urban life in rural terms. Airy, cool, earthy urban akharas are in many ways rural microcosms. In keeping with the image of rural simplicity, wrestlers speak of the future as a time when good, pure food will be available to everyone. As one wrestler put it, “There will be enough milk and almonds for everyone to eat.” Self-sufficiency is an aspect of this gastro-utopia, for in the best possible world each hard-working family group would own enough cows and buffalos to have an unlimited supply of milk and ghi.

In order to bring about the utopia envisioned and presaged by the ideology of wrestling, it is the moral duty of every wrestler to convert others to his chosen life path.

If every wrestler were to train two wrestlers every five years, then every fifth year the number of wrestlers would at least double. . . .

It can be said that a wrestler is not a wrestler unless he makes others into wrestlers. The wicked and the corrupt are quick to swell their ranks with converts, while the pure and honest sit back quietly. Is goodness cowardly and shy? Is it selfish? It is essential that we put our lives behind goodness. Today! Now! . . .

A wrestler must have a missionary spirit. He must be obsessed with the advancement of wrestling. He must get excited about his art. He must be interested in spreading the word throughout the nation. He must make wrestling contagious; not as a disease, but as a way of life (K. P. Singh 1972–1973: 11–12).

A number of poems glorify the nature of the wrestler’s nationalistic duty. One entitled “Duty” by Ram Chandar “Kherawda” Kesriya (1973: 25) is typical:

Duty calls, stand up oh youth of India. Lift up the nation’s name today, oh youth.

It is lost, oh listen youth of India. Go and find the wrestling which is lost,     oh youth.

With the strength of shakti Krishna lifted up the mountain. With the strength of shakti Bali defeated Ravana.

Only by worshiping shakti     was Ram able to pull Shiva’s bow. Steadfast duty enabled these three     to have shakti.

Duty is one of God’s voices. It is the law of manhood.

Duty is behind all courageous achievements. Behind all manifest power is the hand of duty.

It is the call of duty, awaken oh youth of India. Rekindle the lamp of youth.

Recognize the strength of shakti,     oh youth of India. It is the time, raise up oh youth of India.

Shantilal Chajherd, another wrestling poet, has written a number of poems. In one, entitled “We Will Make it Heaven,” he admonishes India’s youth to throw off the veil of darkness, light the lamps of national pride, lovingly embrace spirituality, and turn away from passion so that “there will be no more hunger and no more thirst; and so that all people will have understanding” (1973: 30). In a song entitled “Vital Life” (1972: 77) the same poet laments the passing of wrestling champions and criticizes an attitude of complacency which characterizes the modern scene:

Some say, “What are you doing friend?” “Why exercise and stop eating chat?”

We eat like indiscriminate animals, and are sick. By the thousands in hospitals we rot.

Another poet, who calls himself “Dwivedi,” has written a long serial poem entitled “The Cow Shed.” Six new stanzas of the poem appear in each successive edition of the journal Bharatiya Kushti. The poem elaborates on the theme of cow protection—a powerful symbol of Hindu religiosity—and uses the symbol of the cow shed (goshala) as a metaphor for all that is good and moral about the traditional Indian polity. Dwivedi laments the way in which the goshala has been undermined by corrupt politics (1972–1973: 33; stanza 146); how the cow shed metaphorically stumbles at the sight of young men in foreign suits and ties (ibid: stanza 148); how temples, masjids and churches have undermined the integrity of the cow shed (1973: 19; stanza 153); how taverns and liquor stores have pitted brother against brother (1971: 19; stanza 112); and how drinking has been the downfall of fathers, husbands and sons (1972–1973: 33; stanza 145). Each set of six stanzas usually ends with an appeal for young men to uphold the values the cow shed represents. Often the correlation between the cow shed and the akhara is made explicit. One set (1973: 19; stanza 156) ends with the following verse.

In June there is again to be a tournament in Delhi. Let us watch to see who will win— Who will carry away the prize.

In a tournament one must show— The jewels of one’s strength, courage and brilliance It is for this reason that the wrestler— Must remember the cow shed.

It is incumbent on every wrestler to read the poetics of this nationalism into the particular situation of his own life. What this means is to be able to translate personal strength into national integrity, personal health into national well-being and self-control into national discipline.