Claude Arpi | Where the world is still one family: 50 years in Bharat

I travelled to India in a manner which would probably be unthinkable, almost impossible today: using the land route, living for two and a half months in a bus and three vans with 34 companions.

On December 20, 1974, after more than two and a half months on the road and tracks across Italy, Yugoslavia (which no longer exists), Bulgaria, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan and India, we arrived in Auroville, near Puducherry.

Why Auroville?

In 1972 and 1973, during my university summer holidays, I had visited northern India; it was probably my (good) karma to encounter poor, but smiling Tibetan refugees, happily building roads in the Himalayas! This would change my life.

After meeting their leader, the Dalai Lama, in Dharamsala (Himachal Pradesh), I began to understand something that I had not grasped so far. These refugees had lost their material wealth, their family and their country, but they had not lost the deeper human qualities called peace of mind or compassion; their leader was the living example of these qualities.

This was the first reason why I decided to come back to stay in India.

Around that time, I had also come across the writings of Sri Aurobindo, the Great Rishi, who fought hard for the nation’s “Purna Swaraj” from the British (“The most dangerous man we have to reckon with”, wrote Lord Minto) and later from his room in Puducherry, opened new avenues for the Evolution of Mankind.

Fifty years down the line, I have never regretted my decision to leave France and settle in India; Sri Aurobindo’s words continue to accompany me: “India of the ages is not dead nor has she spoken her last creative word; she lives and has still something to do for herself and the human peoples.”

His short text, The Hour of God, still echoes in my mind: “(Don’t) let worldly prudence whisper too closely in thy ear; for it is the hour of the unexpected”.

The last 50 years have been a long journey. Not always easy, as many things are not as they should be in India and the world.

When I meet Indian friends who are not aware of my background, I am often told: “So many years in India! But why? I can’t understand! My dream is to go to the US or Europe and you are living in ‘this’ country!”

The next question is: “What do you find in ‘this’ country? It is dirty, hundreds of millions are poor, nothing works, please explain, I want to understand”.

It is not an easy proposition to explain what attracted me to India and why I have stayed here all these years. An easy answer could be: Karma.

It is true that in Asia, this word can explain many things. It is a very practical concept which elucidates happenings that cannot be understood otherwise. But in 1974, to want to live in India, appeared to be a strange proposition, going against the tide.

I still remember when I returned for the first time to France for a short visit to visit my family in 1982 (with my Indian wife), the old hair-cutter in my hometown questioned me: “Oh, you were in India all these years, it seems there are a lot of elephants roaming around there”. That was the extent of the knowledge many people had about India.

It is true that India has changed so much, it has become a modern country, development has reached every nook and corner; I myself have extensively travelled in the Himalayas and seen the difference that the roads and good communication have made for the local populations in remote areas.

Of course, there are still many things that I don’t like in India.

A decade ago, I wrote an article “The 10 things I hate in India”, and some readers commented: “Go back to France, if you don’t like India”. They missed the point.

India still has to tackle evils such as bigotry, casteism, babudom, filth, corruption, to cite only a few. I believe that if this is not remedied, the Indian nation will not be able to find its true place in the concert of nations.

In the early 1970s, I remember staying a week in Manali (Himachal Pradesh). I was the only tourist in the then peaceful mountain village. There was no hotel, no travel agency, no guide; I slept on a charpoy, eating tasty momos from Tibetan refugees, who were not yet rich.

The tiny village was an oasis of peace surrounded by high peaks and although the inhabitants, local paharis or Tibetans, were poor, they knew the meaning of hospitality; they were “content”, santosham, to use a Buddhist term. Today, after being put on the tourism world map, Manali is a different world. I hope that the local populations, far better materially today, have not lost their innate goodness in the process.

Personally, during the last three years, I have gone through difficult times when government babus have tried to hijack the dream for which I have come to India (Auroville). It is not necessary to go into details. But I had never seen earlier from a close range, such nepotism, incompetence or worse.

This, however, has not changed my determination to stay and work in India; after so many years in the country, one believes in the national motto, “Satyamev Jayate” (Truth will prevail).

Ancient India, which today inspires many all over the world, has always been synonymous with personal freedom and decentralised local governance, bringing forth the amazing creativity of ordinary people.

Whatever way India has evolved during the last 50 years, I believe it is ultimately for the good. Personally, I have never thought for a second to return to my native douce (sweet) France, though I am proud to have been born in the land of the Gaulish tribes, Joan of Arc or Napoleon.

More than ever, I believe in “Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam” (the world is one family), but it should not be a mere political slogan, it should mean something deeply anchored in the everyday life of citizens of this country, whether one is born in India or elsewhere. India remains special to me because it is the only place where this ancient ideal can still bloom to the fullest.