Jayasinhji Jhala, ed. Alex Goldblum
Raj Harpaldevji: Life and Career
Pittsburgh and Dhrangadhra: Independently published, 2024. 158 pages. Paperback, $29.71; ISBN 9798323595907.
Jayasinhji Jhala’s Raj Harpaldevji: Life and Career narrates the story of the progenitor of the Jhala clan, a figure who came to prominence in the late eleventh century and established his rule in what is today the western portion of the Indian state of Gujarat. Harpaldevji’s descendants would continue to rule over this area, which eventually came to be known by its modern name, Halvad-Dhrangadhra, interacting through the centuries with the Rajput and Mughal powers in northwest India, and eventually emerging as a princely state following the 1857 Indian War of Independence. The Jhala clan’s nine-hundred-year rulership ended with Indian independence in 1947, under the rule of His Highness Meghrajji III—an enlightened monarch who devoted himself to education and the ideals of democracy for his subjects—though the Jhala royal lineage remains. The author of this volume, Jayasinhji Jhala, is the current (47th) Jhallesvar Maharaja of Halvad-Dhrangadhra, a title he has held since 2017. Jhala is also an emeritus professor of anthropology at Temple University and is well-known for his films documenting the traditions of western Gujarat. These two elements of Jhala’s life and career loom over this slim volume. On the one hand, as the inheritor to this lineage, Jhala recounts Harpaldevji’s life as a deep family memoir. On the other hand, Jhala’s background as an anthropologist and as a documentary filmmaker is reflected in the volume’s style of presentation, which allows the source material to speak for itself. Supporting the narrative are a series of illustrations (in a plethora of styles—as much as one finds in India) as well as a wealth of traditional songs and poems.
Throughout the nineteenth century, British authors painstakingly sought to reconstruct the history of India’s royal houses—the best known are the volumes produced by James Tod (1829–1832) and Alexander Forbes (1856). Although these works contained considerable material drawn from local legend, their overall goal, which was melded to British efforts to gain administrative control over the subcontinent, was to establish an historically accurate (and, hence, demythologized) record of “rightful” lineages. Jhala’s recounting of Harpaldevji’s life and career, however, celebrates the mythological elements of Indian royalty, carrying us into a world filled with gods and demons in which Harpaldevji—although undoubtedly a historical personage—is firmly situated. This telling not only shows us Harpaldevji as a larger-than-life figure, but one whose very being (speaking ontologically) exists on a higher plane than that of ordinary mortals (recalling that in India, being is hierarchized, and that any number of individuals, from ascetics to great warriors, may attain transcendent status). In the case of Harpaldevji, this being is established from the elements of his birth—he is a “21st part of divine God Shiva himself” (18); in his battle and subsequent marriage to the Goddess (ShaktiMa/Amba [56]); and in his final ascension to heaven to join “his welcoming ancestors” (121). Along with these contextual elements, woven through Harpaldevji’s life-story are any number of events that echo significant themes found elsewhere in the Indian mythological corpus, among them the Goddess ShaktiMa’s demand for an offering of flesh that culminates in Harpaldevji cutting off portions of his own body (55); ShaktiMa’s warning that she will disappear from the earth if her identity is made known; Harpaldevji’s battles with the rākṣasa-like figure of Babra (leading to the establishment of a deep connection between these two figures [51 ff.]); and the exploits of Harpaldevji’s elephant and horse—the quintessential symbols of kingship in India. This last element is enhanced by a stray reference to Harpaldevji’s son and successor as an Ashoka-like figure: “He prohibited the killing of animals and hunting as he had great respect for the Jain teachers and scholars who had educated him in his youth” (111). These pan-Indian elements are supported in the narrative by a number of local variants, folk elements unique to the Jhala cultural landscape, that anchor Harpaldevji as the prototype of the Jhala ruler. At the same time, there is no dearth of mundane history in Jhala’s narration of Harpaldevji’s life, telling us in no uncertain terms that Harpaldevji was subject to the human foibles of petty jealousies and family discord, and the human tragedy of the loss of family in war.
Jhala’s Raj Harpaldevji is not a scholarly tome in the conventional sense but rather a narrative account in the fashion of a life-story (albeit one heavy with mythological elements). The narrative is not linear, but it includes variant versions, as well as texts drawn from traditional songs and poems. Jhala notes that the source for the narrative was an unpublished work produced by the 45th Jhallesvar, His Highness Maharaja Sriraj Meghrajji III (and, presumably, the author’s father) based on many decades of research into the family history of the Jhalas (128). It would be remiss in a review such as this not to observe that the text lacks a conventional scholarly apparatus. There is no index or chapter divisions, and odd formatting choices abound. Notably, however, the book does include a helpful glossary of terms. Presumably, as an independently published work, it was not vetted by outside readers. Yet, these matters should not stand in the way of seeing the deep value of this volume. Were it not for this publication, this would have likely languished in the Jhala family archive. Though granular in its subject matter, the foundation of a single princely state, Jhala’s Raj Harpaldevji opens a window into a world that is also deeply Indic, with deep reverberations, in both substance and style, to the Indian tradition as a whole.
Herman Tull
Independent Scholar