The legacy of public figures owes its perpetuity to freeze frames. Some names will be unforgotten, while others will remain faceless and nameless. The GIs raising the Stars and Stripes on Iwo Jima. Gandhi and Nehru sharing a laugh. Yousuf Karsh’s ‘Roaring Lion’ photo of Churchill. The sailor kissing a nurse in Times Square after Japan surrendered to America. Baba Ramdev in drag fleeing the cops. Tragic, poignant, romantic, intimate and cartoonish, all these images define the essence of the (wo)man of the moment, or what they are, or have become, in that instant of optic fossilisation.
Baba Ramdev seems to have run out of asanas to escape the Supreme Court’s wrath against what it thinks is peddling misleading advertising about Patanjali products. The baba is one of the most influential figures of our times, a self-styled guru who marketed yoga years before it got an International Day. A meddlesome monk of macabre mannerisms, he is a TV celeb, has a biopic to his name and enjoys political patronage.
With unruly hair and beard dyed mercilessly black, an impressive six-pack and a shadowy Svengali with the business nose of a Nepali Rockefeller, Ramdev has created a Rs 3,000-crore business empire. And he did it on the back of India’s ‘ancient culture’ trope—the current weltanschauung which helps him keep friends and influence people.
In its quest to find a lost past, like most decolonised 20th century nations, New India is seeking its roots in scriptural sensitivities and interpretations. The public stance of the day is to suspect Western science while using its best technology; or say that ‘we had it before’, ‘we already knew that,’ or the White men copied us.’ But the only problem with that is the pudding is not the proof, nor is the proof the whole truth.
Ayurveda, with its confluence of astrology, astronomy and invocations has had an arcane covenant with nature for millennia, just like the herbalists of the primitive world. The difference is that the ‘wise women’ who cured people with natural remedies were burned as witches in Europe while the enlightened Indian establishment of the Hindu Age encouraged Sushruta, Atreya and Dhanvantari to become the masters of medical sciences. They were not physicians seeking wealth and status, but founts of knowledge and revelation who distilled the secrets of nature to heal the afflicted.
In contrast, Western pharma, like automobiles, prêt and pizza, is a billion-dollar marketing business. Its sheer size and money power is able to sideline Ayurveda, in spite of AYUSH. Ramdev’s stellar achievement is that he brought Ayurveda to the people on a mass scale. His success lies not just in his marketing genius; he is the first Indian medicine man to mix Ayurveda and religion to mesmerise a devout populace.
‘A guru of this stature can’t be wrong,’ is the sentiment ‘so his products gotta be pure’. The popularity of Patanjali’s natural products suggest that he can’t be all that wrong. Ramdev’s business empire, built on religion, indigenous medicine and melodramatic flamboyance, undoubtedly enjoys tremendous clout.
For a child of illiterate Haryanvi farmers, he is the Hindu icon of cultural commerce. Faced with the biggest legal challenge to his career, what will be the enduring image? India’s omnipotent prime minister bowing to him, or his products being taken off the shelves as he runs for legal cover? Sushruta may know.
Ravi Shankar
ravi@newindianexpress.com