Harappan memories: How geography defines culture

Devdutt Pattanaik's book 'Ahimsa' explores the nonviolent culture of the Harappan civilization, emphasizing trade over violence and its geographical diversity.

Masalas were first found in Harappan cities, and were made by grinding ingredients under stone. But the Harappan region has no stones. “One scholar figured out that the stones would come from Rajasthan, from Aravalli,” says writer and mythologist Devdutt Pattanaik. That led him to a simple question. Since there were no horses on the mountains, how did the traders carry stones and other items? “One scholar had written that goats were used for transporting goods.” Pattanaik’s research then revealed that goats are used even today because they can climb difficult mountainous terrains and carry almost as much as their body weight.

Mumbai, India - Nov. 27, 2024: Devdutt Pattanaik pose for the photos at Bandra in Mumbai, India, on Wednesday, November 27, 2024. (Photo by Satish Bate/ Hindustan Times) (Hindustan Times)

“It’s all there. Scholars have written about it. But when I illustrate it and somebody sees it, it sticks. This is exciting for me,” he says. It’s this process, of asking simple questions, studying the common people and making laborious research accessible, that the writer has used when putting together his latest book ‘Ahimsa: 100 Reflections on the Harappan Civilization.’

The book is a collection of a hundred one-page reflections, each followed by his illustrations, on topics ranging from the culture’s tiger lore to the region’s seasons and from details about how integral wood was as a material, making everything from pillars to carts and coffins, to the different seals present at the time with interpretation of what the designs on them might mean.

“I was always interested in the mythology of Harappa. People would just say Harappa had Shiva. Where is this coming from? And I would hear about the Aryan invasion. It also didn’t make any sense because the Aryans were around 500 years after Harappa. There’s no connection. There’s a lot of misinformation.” All this confusing and misguided dialogue, rampant in public consciousness, is what prompted Pattanaik to focus on the civilisation and craft this book.

The heart of the idea, which lends the book its name, was to express that the Harappan civilisation was uniquely nonviolent. Scholars have noticed how contemporary civilisations like Mesopotamia and Egypt used and depicted violence. In contrast, Harappa has no artwork that shows violence. No swords or other weapons have been found. No monumental architecture depicts victory over battles and such. The only violent image Pattanaik can think of is on two similar seals. In both, there are two men on the verge of fighting - in one, using trees, and in the other, using spears. And in both, there’s a woman separating them. “Why does nobody call this the ahimsa seal? Why do we always assume they are fighting over the woman?” questions Pattanaik. Whatever the story behind the seals, they are the only vision of violence, and there’s a woman separating them, suggesting fighting and violence weren’t a big part of the culture.

Nonviolence is connected to the idea of trade. “Violence leads to raiding, but nonviolence leads to trading. This is a simple principle that economists know. But we don’t apply it to Harappa,” says Pattanaik. In one instance, the book lays out the prolific import and export between Harappa and Meluhha (name given by Akkadian kings to Sumer). Harappa imported tin from Central Asia, copper from the Aravallis, lapiz lazuli or blue stone from Afghanistan, carnelian or red stone from Gujarat, vesuvianite or green stone from Khyber, conch shells from the Arabian Sea and so on. It exported incense, woollen fabrics, bitumen, silver and gold to Anatolia. Bitumen was used to waterproof baths. In essence, Pattanaik sees Harappa as a bustling trading centre. “My sense is that society was a heterarchy – comprising multiple merchant families which collaborated with each other to create a system that benefitted all, a mix of conglomerates working together,” he says. Pattanaik suspects that the civilisation had a common story that reiterated the value in trading and collaboration.

While this central idea has been on Pattanaik’s mind for a while, research took a year – he used the time to understand various perspectives of scholars who had written on the civilisation. He explains: “We’re telling the child that a father-mother marriage is normal. But we don’t know what system was 4.5k years ago. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. A good scholar will ask, ‘how do you know they are married?’.” In reading a cross-section of scholars, he became aware of their biases, which he had to navigate with his own as a city dweller. “That’s why I always write ‘my truth’,” he says. Encouraging readers to ask these critical thus becomes more important to him than just conveying facts.

And even as readers raise questions and ponder about the civilisation, Pattanaik is reminding everyone to keep in mind the vast diversity of the region. While the Punjab area had water buffaloes, barley and wheat, the Gujarat region had bulls, millets and cotton. From north to south and from one state to the next, Harappa was different. “Everybody thinks that homogenising people unites them. Indians don’t like homogeneity. Our geography forces us to be diverse. In this subcontinent, whenever humans have tried to homogenise, it’s been a failed experiment. Politics apart, my biggest learning is that geography decides culture.”