The pietistic sects tend towards Sūfi-ism, a combination of Aryan pantheism with Semitic monotheism, which takes the form of ecstatic devotion. Something of the same kind may be found in the Vaisnav sects of Hinduism, and in both cases ultimate absorption in the divinity is the goal aimed at.
Very interesting local communities of Muhammadans are the Moplahs of the Malabar coast, descendants of Arab settlers; the Bohras or "traders" of Western India; and the Khojās, followers of the "Old Man of the Mountain," whose present representative is H.H. the Agha Khān of Bombay, who has many friends in England.
The Pārsīs. The word Pārsī simply means Persian, and the Pārsī religion is the dualistic faith, combined with fire-worship, of the ancient Persians. It is also called Mazdaism from Ahura Mazda (Ormuzd), who is in perpetual conflict with Angro Mainyush (Ahriman), the spirit of evil. It is also called Zoroastrianism, from the reformer Zoroaster, the Greek form of the old Iranian Zarathushtra, the modern Persian Zardusht. The religious phraseology of the Pārsīs shows that their faith must have had a common origin with the Aryan religion of India before the Iranian and Indo-Aryan migrations parted company. By a curious trick of language, the Devas, who in India and Europe are beneficent gods, in Persia become evil spirits. In India by a corresponding inversion, the word Asura, which in the Rig-veda is still a name of gods, was applied to hostile (generally aboriginal) demons. By a further process Asura was regarded as a negative word, and gave birth to a tribe of beneficent Suras. In the earlier times, there were both Ahura and Daeva worshippers, the former being socially superior, cattle-breeders, who, like the Indian Hindus, venerated the cow. It was Zoroaster's mission to fuse these two cults into a dualistic creed, whose main principle was the continuous struggle between the powers of good and evil. Submerged for a time during the Greek occupation, the Mazdaist faith revived under the Sassanids, but was finally overthrown by the advent of Islam, which persecuted and strove to extirpate the worship of fire.
Many of the survivors migrated to India, where they secured the tolerance of Hindu and Muhammadan rulers alike, and increased and multiplied. Up to the middle of the eighteenth century, Surat, Nausāri, and the neighbouring parts of Gujarāt were their home. When, under British rule, Bombay became a great commercial port, large numbers of Pārsīs migrated thither, and in many cases won great wealth and influence.
In the early days of their dispersion, the weak colonies of Pārsīs assimilated themselves with the lower classes of Hindus by whom they were surrounded. But fresh accessions from Irān, and a growth of national prosperity and self-confidence brought about a restoration of the ancient faith. On Indian soil, the Pārsīs now number 94,000. But owing to their intelligence and wealth, due to their remarkable success in trading, the Pārsīs command a much wider political and social influence than their numbers would seem to show. According to Pārsī belief, the soul passes after death to paradise (Bihisht) or a place of punishment (Dozakh) according to a man's conduct in life. Much importance is attached to the performance of rites to the manes of ancestors. Fire, water, the sun, moon, and stars were created by Ahura Mazda, and are venerated, as is Zarathushtra the Prophet. Soshios, his son, will some day be reincarnated as a Messiah, and will convert the world to the true faith. As with other Indian religions, contact with Europeans tends to produce laxity of belief and conduct.
Christianity. It is interesting to remember that there were Christians in India before the Christian faith reached our islands. The tradition that St Thomas was the Apostle of India, and suffered martyrdom there, is indeed discredited. This tradition originated with the Syriac Acta Thomae, and was accepted by Catholic teachers from the middle of the fourth century. The Indian King Gundaphar of the Acta is undoubtedly the historical Gondophares, whose dynasty was Parthian, though his territories were loosely considered to extend to India. A full account of the traditions connecting St Thomas with India (by W. R. Philipps) will be found in vol. XXXII. of the Indian Antiquary, 1903, pp. 1-15, 145-160.
The term "Christians of St Thomas" is often applied to the members of the ancient Christian churches of Southern India which claim him as their first founder, and honour as their second founder a bishop called Thomas, who is said to have come from Jerusalem to Malabar in 345 A.D. According to local tradition, St Thomas went from Malabar to Mylapur, now a suburb of Madras and the seat of a Roman Catholic bishop. Here still exists the shrine of his martyrdom on Mount St Thomas. A miraculous cross is shown with a Pahlavi inscription which is said to be as old as the end of the seventh century. The old churches of the south were certainly of East Syrian origin. They never wholly lost their sense of connection with their mother church, for it is known that they sent deputies in 1490 to the Nestorian patriarch Simeon, who provided them with bishops. Under Musalmān rule, they suffered severely, and welcomed the advent of the Portuguese to India. They were, however, recalcitrant to Roman influence, and it was with much difficulty that in 1599 they were induced to submit to a formal union with Rome at the synod of Diamper (Udayamperur in Cochin). During the following century and a half the Thomasine churches were under foreign Jesuit rule, but yielded an unwilling and intermittent obedience. In 1653, there was a great schism, and of about 200,000 Christians of St Thomas only 400 remained loyal to Rome, though some of their churches were soon won back by the Carmelites. The remainder fell under the influence of the Jacobite Mar Gregorius, styled patriarch of Jerusalem, who reached Malabar in 1665 as an emissary from Ignatius patriarch of Antioch. From this time, the independent churches of Southern India have been Jacobite. At the present time, they are on friendly terms with the Anglican church in India, and are loosening their dependence on the Jacobite patriarch of Antioch.
Of missionary work in India I need not speak in a book of this size. There are nearly three millions of Christians in India, of whom two and a half millions are native converts. Seeing that missionary work has been in operation since 1500, a tale of converts amounting to less than one per cent. may seem a discouraging result of over 400 years of contact with European religious thought. But actual conversion has taken place chiefly among the lower classes and least advanced races. Among the educated classes the influence of Christianity has been indirect, and in many cases has produced a transformation in ethical belief and social conduct as complete as could have been wrought by open conversion. The Brāhmo Samāj, for instance, remains Hindu in a sense, because it refuses to sever its connection with India, or to acknowledge European authority in matters of religion. But the Brāhmo Samāj could not have come into existence but for Rām Mohan Roy's friendly and intimate acquaintance with European Christians and Unitarians. Even in the matter of conversion, the rate of progress is increasing rapidly, partly because missionary effort is being directed to savage tracts hitherto unvisited by civilised men, but partly, also, because the native Christian community is beginning to have sufficient self-confidence and status to proselytise in its turn. The multiplicity of missionary agencies, due to the accidents of European history and development, has been an impediment. Such terms as the Church of England, Church of Scotland, Welsh Baptists, American Baptists, etc., can have little signification for races who cannot be expected to know the historical causes which brought about these local varieties of Christian doctrine and practice. There may yet arise among one of the rival churches in India a Christian Rāmanuja or Chaitanya, who may found a great Church of India, with a ritual, and, perhaps, doctrines of its own. The most successful of the Jesuit missionaries, Robert de Nobili[6] for instance, and such men as the Abbé Dubois in later times, owed their success to the fact that they assumed the habits, dress, and often the titles of Brāhmanic ascetics. They could not assume the dusky skin which, after all, is the first and easiest means of gaining an Indian's confidence. They could not wholly accept caste, they could not wink at polygamy in the case of men whose first wives were infertile, and who had an hereditary sense that the lack of an heir is socially and religiously reprehensible. Perhaps a truly indigenous Church of India may deal with such difficulties more successfully than men who are compelled to teach, not only the elements of the Christian faith, but the ethical traditions belonging to their own race.
In this connection, I may be allowed to conclude my necessarily brief story of Indian races and religions with an anecdote. Just thirty-five years ago I was in charge of a "subdivision" in Bengal which contained a large number of native Christians belonging to the Church of England. There were several churches with parsonages, and the nearest of these to my headquarters was in the charge of a young missionary who was glad to have an occasional chat with a young magistrate. One day my missionary friend told me that he had discovered with dismay that his flock were in the habit of attending the Communion Service in batches, according to their castes, so as not to be obliged to drink out of the cup with men of alien caste. There were Hindu Christians and Muhammadan Christians who could not eat or drink together. He decided that this state of things must be stopped at all costs, as being wholly contrary to Christian teaching. I ventured to suggest that spiritual equality is not the same thing as social equality, but had to admit that caste is not usually recognised as a Christian institution. Apparently the Christians listened to their pastor's admonition, for, a few days after, he rode over to say that, in consequence of ex-scavengers and ex-Brāhmans having communicated together, his whole congregation had been put out of caste by their Hindu neighbours. This may not, at first sight, seem a very serious calamity. But it happened that, in the caste specialisation which had survived among the Christians, there were none of the community who were barbers or midwives by caste. Christian men were going about with stubbly chins: worse still, Christian women were in need of help which their Hindu sisters refused to supply. It was a difficult situation for two young bachelors. However, I now confess, after all these years, that I brought a little official pressure to bear on the midwives, and the situation was saved for the moment. In those days, the educational policy of Government was to give grants-in-aid to primary schools, most of which, in this very Christian "subdivision" were either Roman Catholic or Anglican. When next I proceeded to issue my doles according to school-population and other educational results, I was astonished to find that the Roman Catholic grant-in-aid had increased greatly and the Anglican grant-in-aid had proportionally diminished. This was the immediate (and no doubt temporary) result of my missionary friend's zeal. Such survivals of old beliefs are common in all the religions of India. The main social impulse of the people was implanted on their minds at the distant epoch of the Aryan settlement, the sense of social and racial inequality which has now hardened into the caste system. To most Indians a recognition of the importance and value of caste is the first step towards decent and seemly conduct, towards civilised morality. When a semi-savage hill-man begins to recognise his inferiority to his Hindu neighbours and makes tentative approaches with a view to inclusion in civilised society, his first duty is to abjure the diet of pork and rice-beer which his unregenerate appetite loves, since these indulgences stand in the way of sharing a meal with Hindu folk. (In other parts of India, liquor and meat are consumed by low-caste Hindus of aboriginal origin.) In Assam, a Kachāri first accepts the sarana or "protection" of a Hindu Goshain. He is then called a Saraniya Koch. His next step is to abandon strong drinks, on which he is promoted to the status of a Modāhi Koch. At this stage, he may be fortunate enough to win the hand of a bride of pure Koch family, and, under her guidance, acquires enough of conventional habits and beliefs to be recognised as a Kāmtāli or Bor Koch, and is a true Hindu, a member of a genuine Hindu caste. Musalmāns and Christians have other social conventions, and do not usually regard them as essential to good manners or godliness. But their converts retain their social superstitions and carry them into the new surroundings, where they sometimes come into disagreeable contact with the ethical ideas belonging to imported religions.
The contact of Aryan with Dravidian races, some three thousand years ago, brought about the beginnings of caste, which, from one point of view, may be regarded as a rude form of "race-protection," a primitive system of eugenics. It is still most rigidly enforced in the south, where the semi-Aryan classes are in a great minority. It is most relaxed in the Panjāb, where, though caste rules exist, the population is, and probably always has been, as homogeneous as our own race. French travellers in India have sometimes said, half-humorously, that the Anglo-Indian administrators and merchants are practically a caste unto themselves. Bengalis have made the same remark and have said that our Civil Service is composed of Kali Yuger Brāhman, "the Brāhmans of the Iron Age." There was once some truth in the accusation, if accusation it be. It was not our business to interfere deliberately with caste, since British policy from the first has been one of kindly neutrality and toleration. Whether indirect influences have mitigated the effect of the sentiment of caste is a moot point. Educated Indians who have lived in Europe see its irksomeness, and in some cases denounce it more vigorously than most Europeans will care to denounce a system due to historical causes which are still partly operative. On the other hand, railways and other facilities for travel, though they have necessarily introduced laxity in matters of food and contact, have probably heightened the caste feeling by emphasising the variety of Hindu humanity and of the customs and habits of its many races. Hence the evolution of Indian society remains as interesting and as incalculable as ever.