Well researched and a scholarly critique which dispels a lot of widespread beliefs most Indians hold. Cross-references and an extensive bibliography disrupt a smooth read.

If only the layman of everyday understood and accepted such strong evidence as proof of his/her collective past, the contemporary newspapers would carry news that is hopeful rather than alarming.

It's an important and well-researched book presenting undeniable evidence that beef was a major part of the Indian diet through most of her history. It neglects, however, addressing the factors behind Hinduism's sudden veneration of the cow and gradual transition to complete vegetarianism. I'm giving it three stars only for begging a compelling question and failing to answer.

Ask anyone about the basic tenets of Hinduism, and the majority of them are likely to quote cow worship as one of them. We have been brought up in the belief that the cow has always been sacred in our culture (though my own state, Kerala, is the exception). The Indian constitution contains a directive principle to end the killing of cows and promote cow welfare: ever since Independence, there have been calls (some peaceful and others violent) to ban cow slaughter. We Indians have even contributed the phrase “the sacred cow” to the English language.

But has the cow always been holy? Well, actually, no, says Professor D. N. Jha. The early Aryans were confirmed meat-eaters, and beef was a particular favourite. The Buddhists, though they disapproved of the Vedic sacrifice, still ate meat; and there was no specific taboo on cow meat. Even Jains, the present-day vegan extremists, have been known on occasion to eat meat.

Professor Jha argues from textual and archaeological evidence. The Vedas and the Brahmanas, and the other shrutis, speak eloquently about meat eating – with a special emphasis on beef. The Vedic gods Indra, Agni et al. were fond of eating cows, oxen, bulls and buffaloes. Sacrifice was the mainstay of the Vedic religion: and kine were the usual victims. But the consumption of bovine meat was not limited to religious occasions: guests were also treated to it, the proverbial “fatted calf” being slaughtered in their honour – so much so that guests came to be known as goghnahs, that is, cow-killers.

Contrary to popular belief, Buddhists were no vegans (in fact, there is strong evidence to suspect that the Buddha died of eating a dish of spoiled pork). Though the idea of ahimsa which appears first in the Upanishads was echoed by the Buddha also, he allowed his disciples to eat meat where the slaughter had been ‘unseen, unheard and unsuspected (to be on one’s account)’ and also where the animal had died a natural death or had been killed by a bird or animal of prey. (I can personally vouch for Buddhists being non-vegetarians after visiting Thailand.) Even the extremely puritanical Jains are known have eaten meat at one point of time, from the textual evidence of their own sacred literature.

As we move ahead on the historical timeline, we begin to see exhortations against cow slaughter and the consumption of beef towards the middle of the first millennium: but these are more in the nature of rants against an existing practice than diktats to be followed. Both Manu and Yajnavalkya, in their smritis, talk about beef consumption, and even the medical texts of Charaka and Susrutha mention it as a matter of course. The epics of Ramayana and Mahabharata also talk about the consumption of meat including beef. But there is a steady movement to sanctify the cow, and the use of panchagavya (a mixture of cow’s milk, cow dung, cow urine, butter and ghee) as a purifying agent and as medicine starts getting extolled.

Why exactly did the slaughter of cows stop? Professor Jha proposes that it might have been due to the fact that the nomadic Aryans settled down to agriculture by the middle of the first millennium. The sacrifices and the indiscriminate use of meat, a remnant of their days of wandering on the plains of Middle Asia, changed with the arrival of feudalism. Apart from Vaishyas, Brahmins also started to do agriculture: and the cows they received as gifts from yagas were too valuable as domestic animals to kill and eat.

Dr. Ambedkar, whose essay on this issue has been attached as appendix, provides a clever yet rather weak theory. He says that Brahmins purposefully adopted vegetarianism to steal a march on the Buddhists, whose religion was gaining ascendancy! In contrast to Buddhists, who argued only against ritual sacrifice, the Brahmins banned meat eating in toto to prove that their faith was much better. The affluent non-Brahmins gave up the eating of beef to move up the social ladder; while those at the bottom, the so-called ‘Broken Men’ who had been relegated to the borders of the society by the proponents of the Vedic religion, could not do so because dead cows were their main source of nourishment. Thus, because they ate this defiled meat, over a period of time they became untouchables.

However, I take this theory with a huge pinch of salt. Because while the origin of untouchability may have roots in the eating of the so-called “forbidden flesh”, the veneration of the cow seems to have more complex root than a social strategy. It is a fact that the cow came to be regarded as sacred over a period of time – as to the exact reason, I feel that the jury is still out on that one.

But the important thing is that, until relatively recently, no one denied the meat-eating past of the Brahmins and neither the fact that beef was consumed by the Vedic people. Even in later literature, beef-eating is considered a kalivarjya – something to be shunned in the modern, “degenerate” age. Even then it is not a major crime (mahapataka) but a minor one (upapataka). Prof. Jha writes:

n  Needless to say, then, that the image of the cow projected by the Indian textual traditions, especially the Brahmanical-Dharmasastric works, over the centuries is polymorphic. Its story through the millennia is full of inconsistencies and has not always been in conformity with dietary practices current in society. It was killed but the killing was not killing. When it was not slain, mere remembering the old practice of butchery satisfied the brahmanas. Its five products including faeces and urine have been considered pure but not its mouth. Yet through these incongruous attitudes the Indian cow has struggled its way to sanctity.

But the holiness of the cow is elusive. For there has never been a cow-goddess, nor any temple in her honour. Nevertheless the veneration of this animal has come to be viewed as a characteristic trait of modern day non-existent monolithic ‘Hinduism’ bandied about by the Hindutva forces.n

This is a valid point. With the Indian Independence, the holiness of the cow should have been seen for what it was – a temporary viewpoint in shifting cultural landscape – and it should have remained a matter of personal religious belief: instead, it has been enshrined as the basic tenet of a monolithic faith. Prof. Jha enumerates the number of agitations and potentially disastrous political incidents in independent India connected to cow slaughter and the opposition to it; and also the number of threats he and his book had to face. In the face of such frenzy, it is high time we looked this whole issue from a historical and cultural point of view, leaving aside our emotions.

Professor D. N. Jha has done a commendable job of writing an accessible history book for the layman, with clear indications of sources and flawless logical reasoning. In a society where scholarly discourse is getting increasingly polarised ideologically, such calm voices are a must.

The underlying intention of the book has a unifying theme and wishes to factually eradicate the political propoganda of radical groups.

However, while trying to be overly careful in stating the facts, the book fails to draw a common thread and is unable to give out a clear message, thus, the author is not able to develop a connection with the reader.