Les grands enjeux de société et les idées qui en font la trame, avec humour, passion et gravité.
30 Janvier 2026
20
He ordered his guards to let Nimaï pass. Part of the group followed him into the courtyard where they were invited to take a seat. The governor began the conversation: "I have done some research on you and learned that, in the village where I grew up, Nilambar Chakravati, your maternal grandfather, was my tutor, and therefore my uncle. You should, in fact, consider yourself my nephew."
Among the people, Hindu and Muslim societies knew how to live in close correlation when wars and leaders did not fan the flames of their resentment. Often, Muslims accepted invitations from Hindus and vice versa. In this way, relations were established between the various ethnic groups that harmonized religious differences. For example, children called the elders and teachers they were fond of "uncle," or those of their own age "dada," which means brother, regardless of their belief.
To win his guest's favor, and out of diplomacy, the Kazi emphasized these customs: "When the nephew gets angry, the maternal uncle tolerates it, and when the maternal uncle offends the nephew, the latter does not take offense and never takes his bad mood seriously..."
They conversed about various things by way of introduction. After a moment, Nimaï directed the conversation to a more specific point: "My uncle, I would like to ask you a question that has been troubling me. — I am listening, tell me what is on your heart. — Well... You and your entire family, especially your children, drink cow's milk. For the pleasure of your palate, you transform it into butter, cheese, yogurt, and many other preparations. In other words, you know that it constitutes a vital and beneficial food for you. The proof is that, when a mother's breast is dry, you substitute it with this precious liquid. This is why the Vedas consider the cow as a second mother. She is sacred. It is thanks to the ox, which puts its strength at our service by plowing the fields, that we can eat grains and vegetables. Such generosity is priceless, and we should be a thousand times grateful for it. But instead, you kill these innocent creatures and eat them! Do you have no religious principles? From where do you derive the right to commit such acts?"
These arguments were not going to move the Kazi, who was born in this country where ancestors worshipped the cow as a divinity. Only a few generations ago, his forebears practiced these idolatrous rituals, but Islam had opened their eyes. He did not know the circumstances of this abjuration, but he had inherited from his parents a repulsion toward iconolatry and a forced tolerance for other beliefs. For him, the only authentic religion in existence was that preached by the Prophet Muhammad, a religion all the more sacred as he was the last messenger of God. He had never taken seriously the bigotry displayed by Hindus regarding anthropology, animism, or vegetarianism, and he regretted that this fortuitous nephew was upsetting him with these dogmatic and primitive questions. If he had opened the debate on a matter relating to faith or religious sentiment, it might have been different; but he found this interest in an animal, however beautiful, intelligent, or generous, to be misplaced. He was going to answer him without offending him—he absolutely must not—by pointing out the obsolete and arbitrary nature of this belief, even though one of the greatest philosophers of Islam, Al-Ghazali, in the 11th century, had written in one of the most esteemed books of his co-religionists: "Cow's meat is synonymous with disease (marz), its milk with health (safa), and its clarified butter with medicine (dawa)." But such reservations could not reach him, as his beliefs did not allow it. And besides, one quickly forgets them when they do not align with one's views.
"Other Muslim philosophers have written texts just as appropriate regarding the will of God, which perfectly nourish His spiritual tastes."
"You have your Scriptures," he replied, "the Vedas and the Puranas, just as we have ours, the Quran and the Traditions (the hadiths). They recommend two paths: that of material prosperity and enjoyment, or that of renunciation and austerity. The second prohibits the act of killing animals, but the first only stipulates the conditions of their slaughter. If the animal is sacrificed according to the ritual prescribed by the scriptures, no sin is committed."
The Kazi was an educated and pious person, and scriptural injunctions were familiar to him. With a hint of defiance, he continued: "One also finds similar instructions in the Vedic writings and, according to their recommendations, sages in the past sacrificed cows..."
At these words, Nimaï reared up: "The Vedas and Puranas declare unequivocally that priests must be able to bring the animal they immolate back to life! They can only kill during a ceremony for scientific and religious purposes. They immolated elderly animals and, through the power of Vedic mantras, granted them new, young, and vigorous bodies. As a result, these immolations were actually for the benefit of the animals. Formerly, there were powerful brahmanas to produce such miracles. In the Age of Kali, these experiments are forbidden, for brahmanas are incapable of adequately reciting the mantras that confer resurrection. Therefore, one way or another, Hindu or not, it is forbidden to slaughter an animal for the pleasure of the senses. In this age, five activities are forbidden: the sacrifice of the cow, that of the horse, accepting the order of sannyasa, the offering of meat to ancestors, and fathering a child with the wife of one's brother."
In Vedic times, when a man was sterile, his brother could give him a child. But as Nimaï noted, due to the degradation of customs and morality, this singular alternative no longer has a place today, even in Hindu society. The same applies to the other four prohibitions.
Taking advantage of the situation, Nimaï made no compromise: "Since you Muslims cannot bring animals back to life, you remain responsible for their death. Consequently, you will suffer the infernal reactions; cow killers are condemned to terrible suffering."
Sensing indifference toward his convictions in his interlocutor's gaze, he led him to more sensitive and universal ground and spoke of love. Humans are not the exclusive recipients of love; it must be shared with all beings of creation, including plants. Yes, plants also live. They reproduce, fall ill, and die. They recognize us by our voice, by our vibrations; they have tastes and inclinations. In short, because they are not just raw matter but consciousness, however minute it may be, they are worthy of love. This sentiment does not prevent us from remaining pragmatic; reality being cruel, for one species to survive, it must kill others. Thus, before eating, a devotee sanctifies his food by offering it to God. This is what Krishna says in the Bhagavad-gita: "If one offers Me with love and devotion a leaf, a flower, a fruit, or water, I will accept it. The devotees of the Lord are released from all sins because they eat only food offered in sacrifice. But those who prepare food for their own pleasure nourish themselves only on sin." Is it not aberrant to enjoy the affectionate company of a dog, a cat, or a horse, and yet tolerate their being killed according to the tastes and appetites of each person? No, animals must be seen as brothers and sisters, less fortunate no doubt, but part of the Lord's great family.
At these words, a click occurred within the Kazi, who observed Nimaï first with condescension, then, as he spoke, with curiosity. The imams had always sung to him the glories of the Quran and the Prophet. They never ceased to praise the preeminence of the religion and its incomparable wisdom. Provided with the material goods that allegiance to Islam brought to his family, he had, by virtue of his position, stationed himself as a watchman at the outposts of humanity. He realized at that moment that, under the influence of his mentors and his passion for making war, he had lacked perspicacity and introspection. Love... On Nimaï's lips, this word, tarnished by the interests of each individual, took on a sacred resonance. He had, of course, been taught to cherish his parents, his brothers in God, the Prophet, the angels, and God. But can one truly love an absolute abstraction? God can neither be seen nor understood; He has no eyes, no mouth, no feet, no hands. How, then, can one nurture love for a Divine Being about whose form, activities, entourage, and residence one has not the slightest information? Now, before Nimaï, he felt the precariousness of his spiritual position; the fact that he had not been educated on these primordial values caused him bitterness.
"Those who remain under the spell of worldly pleasures cannot fix their attention on God..."
He listened. His parents had instilled in him the code that governs material prosperity, but did he truly hope to receive the graces of heaven in this way? They would surely be granted to him for having fulfilled his duties with brilliance and piety, but what Nimaï spoke of was spiritual success. He regretted his own words about the two paths one can follow, for he anticipated the argument: this scriptural proposition is intended for hardened materialists who, through a measured regulation of sense gratification and religious principles, may realize the goal of life. Yes, they would reach the goal, but what a detour before arriving there—how many births in this world!
Nimaï fell silent; he remained mute for a few moments. A thought consumed him. His absent eyes fixed upon the Kazi. Then, without hesitating, he continued: "There are other inaccuracies in your Scriptures, for the interpretation and compilation of these texts, written by intermediaries, are sometimes contrary to logic and reason."
For example, the Quran warns its devotees to respect other religions, but instead, its followers have oppressed Hindu believers. What does this holy book mean by "other religions"? Does Allah not have a hundred Names? Why, since God is unlimited, could He not also be called Krishna or Rama? Why must He absolutely be perceived in the manner of the Quran? What do Muslims mean by the return of the Prophet Muhammad? Could Nimaï not be the Messiah? Or must he, a thousand years later, resemble him and preach the same teachings? Muhammad himself was considered a heretic. He founded a new religion, even though he was the final link in the chain of Judaic prophets. Millions of Muslims go to Mecca every year and circle the "Black Stone." They venerate it as the most adorable thing in the world, and yet they are the greatest iconoclasts!
The Kazi listened to the rebukes and arguments of his interlocutor, and it was difficult for him to resist his eloquent demonstration. Finally, convinced, he confessed: "Dear Nimaï, what you express there is true, I admit it. Our Scriptures were compiled not long ago and they lack rationality in places, as you so rightly point out. I know they contain many allegorical ideas that sometimes leave us skeptical. But, being a Muslim, and moreover a dignitary, I accept them, on principle, so as not to create confusion among my subjects who have faith. All things considered, the elaboration of these Scriptures, conceived by the yavanas (men and women who eat meat), does not rest upon a detailed and clear concept of spiritual reality."
* A review of beef in ancient India, Gita Press, Gorakhpur.
** Nevertheless, the order of sannyasa is given in the Vaishnava tradition, a custom perceived differently.
*** It is interesting to note that in the Vedic concept, there is no hell or beings who suffer for eternity. Although the expression is used occasionally, it signifies that the stay is so long that one cannot see the end of it. Our original and eternal constitution drives us, like a spiritual instinct, to return to the kingdom of God.
Next Chapter : An Extraordinary Revelation # 21
Preceding chapter : All into the streets! # 19