The State in Ancient India: A Study in the Structure and Practical Working of Political Institutions in North India in Ancient Times c15.s1.5

c15.s1.5

Like so many later dramatists, Bhâsa borrows his plots from the Râmâyaṇa, the Mahâbhârata and popular legends. Kings, ministers and ambassadors jostle one another on his stage but his plays are not political. Not even the Abhiṣekanâṭaka fulfils the expectations raised by its title and its plot which begins with the conflict of Râma’s ally, the monkey Sugriva, with his brother Bâlin and ends with the fall of the demon Râvaṇa. Another piece, Cârudatta, which might have supplied the plot to Śûdraka’s Mricchakaṭikâ, is no better from the political point of view, though it throws interesting side-lights on the manners of those days. In Avimâraka, Kauñjâyana, one of the two ministers of king Kuntibhoja, laments the sad plight of those fools whom vanity prompts to accept the office of ministers. If their projects are successful, the glory falls to the strength of the sovereign. But if they fail, they are denounced for incompetence.¹ Shortly after, the minister wants the king to honour the envoy of the Benâres sovereign. The king exclaims that the ministerial mind looks only to business, not to affection. When called in, he feels how heavy is the burden of the crown. Dharma or the law must be considered at first. The working of the minister's mind must be followed intelligently. The king must conceal his passions—desires and anger. A policy of mercy or sternness must be (determined and) followed as the juncture of events requires. Through spies—eyes of the king—the doings of the people must be perceived; so, too, the maṇḍala of neighbouring kings must be watched. The king must carefully guard his own person and yet expose it on the field of battle.² In the second Act, the hero Avimâraka incidentally remarks that according to the injunction of Śāstras one should hold consultation with two (councillors)³ In a single-act play, Dûtavâkyam, where the plot consists of Kṛṣṇa's futile mission to Duryodhana on the eve of the Great Civil War, sovereignty appears in all its pride. Duryodhana scoffs at the idea of reconciliation. Princes enjoy dominion after defeating their enemies. Dominion is not to be begged in this world. Nor is it to be bestowed on the helpless.⁴ The Pratijñâyaugandharâyaṇam enshrines a beautiful picture of ministerial loyalty. It also furnishes an interesting example of aristocratic pride (pp. 30-31). Apart from these and similar unimportant political touches, it is clear that Bhāsa upholds the Brahmanic order of things and recognises the supremacy of Brāhmaṇas. In another single-act play, called Madhyamavyāyoga, based on a Mahābhārata incident, Bhīmasena, proud of his Kṣatriya origin, feels that a Brāhmaṇa deserves the highest worship and is ready to sacrifice himself for his safety.¹ Vāsavadattā, Act VI, shows that the door-keeper and chamberlain were two distinct officers. There were a number of guards and police officers to maintain order. In Act I, they are seen turning away the people. Vāsavadattā also shows that the capital of a small kingdom could sometimes be no bigger than a village, but ambitions for wide conquest might still be there. The fourth Act brings a Viḍūṣaka—jester—as the companion and confidential friend of the king.