Hostname: page-component-745bb68f8f-lrblm Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2025-02-04T16:38:51.087Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Parallel lives or interconnected histories? Anagarika Dharmapala and Muhammad Barkatullah's ‘world religioning’ in Japan

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  23 November 2021

Samee Siddiqui*
Affiliation:
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Chapel Hill, North Carolina, United States of America
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

This article compares the ideas, connections, and projects of two South Asian figures who are generally studied separately: the Indian pan-Islamist Muhammad Barkatullah (1864–1927) and the Sinhalese Buddhist reformer Anagarika Dharmapala (1864–1934). In doing so, I argue that we can understand these two figures in a new light, by recognizing their mutual connections as well as the structural similarities in their thought. By focusing on their encounters and work in Japan, this article demonstrates how Japan—particularly after defeating Russia in the Russo-Japanese War in 1905—had become a significant site for inter-Asian conversations about world religions. Importantly, exploring the projects of Barkatullah and Dharmapala makes visible the fact that, from the late nineteenth century until the outbreak of the First World War, religion played a central role—alongside nationalism, race, and empire—in conversations about the possible futures of the international order.

Type
Research Article
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2021. Published by Cambridge University Press.

Introduction

In 1911, a South Asian journal published a short article entitled ‘Islam in Japan’, discussing the attempts by Muhammad Barkatullah—an Indian pan-Islamist and anticolonial activist—to ‘propagate’ Islam in Asia's rising superpower.Footnote 1 The topic of the article may seem peculiar at first. Yet, after the Japanese victory in the Russo-Japanese war in 1905, Tokyo had become a hub for students, intellectuals, anticolonial activists, revolutionaries, and religious reformers from around Asia. This included Indian Muslims like Barkatullah who, in 1909, had joined the Tokyo Imperial University as a professor of Hindustani languages.Footnote 2

Outside of his teaching, Barkatullah was active in political and intellectual circles in the capital. He not only met with Japanese pan-Asianist allies to discuss and criticize British actions in Asia and the ‘Muslim World’, he also inspired one of the earliest conversions of a Japanese citizen to Islam, namely his pan-Asianist colleague in Japan, Hasan Hatano Uho. During his five years in Japan, he began publishing a journal called Islamic Fraternity. In Barkatullah's own words, the express purpose of this was to: ‘enlighten [the] non-Muslim public on the true principles of Islam and bring to the Muslim view some of the beauties of other religions, with a view to advance the cause of human fellowship’.Footnote 3 Barkatullah's activities in Tokyo were being discussed in various Indian journals, by both journals based in India and those established by émigré Indians, by Islamic journals and those published by non-Muslims.Footnote 4 Both British and Japanese authorities, meanwhile, kept a close eye on Barkatullah throughout his time in Tokyo.

What is interesting about the 1911 article is not the fact that Barkatullah's activities were being discussed, but where they were published: in the Maha Bodhi and the United Buddhist World. The Maha Bodhi journal was published in British Ceylon under the leadership of the influential Sinhalese Buddhist reformer Anagarika Dharmapala. ‘Islam in Japan’ was Dharmapala's response to being sent a copy of Barkatullah's Islamic Fraternity and he was categorical in asserting that Islam was ‘unsuited to civilized peoples’ like the Japanese.Footnote 5 Repeating European Orientalist tropes of Islam, while simultaneously asserting its similarity with Christianity, Dharmapala wrote:

Christianity and Islam are two sister religions with a Semitic basis. Both are crude, unscientific, blood thirsty, iconoclastic, intolerant, [and] dogmatic. Both propagated teachings of their respective founders by persecution, bloodshed, and vandalism. Wherever the propagandists went they destroyed older civilizations, massacred the professors of other religions, burnt libraries, and left no vestige of ancient monuments.Footnote 6

I should make clear at this point that, although I will briefly examine Dharmapala's views on Islam at the end of the article, I am not primarily interested in his bigotries. Rather, what is significant about this article is that it hints at the interconnected nature of Dharmapala and Barkatullah's lives and projects. While these two figures have usually been studied separately, this article asks the question: what does studying Dharmapala and Barkatullah together tell us about the entangled histories and potential incommensurabilities of pan-Islamism, pan-Asian Buddhism, and anticolonialism in South Asia from the late nineteenth century until 1914? After all, not only did Dharmapala write about Barkatullah's activities in Japan, they also moved in similar social circles.Footnote 7 For instance, on Dharmapala's fourth visit to Tokyo in 1913, he met Barkatullah several times, including at a gathering organized by his pan-Islamist contemporaries.Footnote 8 Moreover, both Dharmapala and Barkatullah had articles published in a journal edited by the influential Japanese pan-Asianist ideologue Ōkawa Shūmei.Footnote 9

Barkatullah, Dharmapala, and their Japanese interlocutors were involved in discussions about world religions at a moment when the European category of ‘religion’ itself was being globalized and taking shape on a global stage.Footnote 10 The globalization of these concepts and identities occurred in the context of European imperialism through Orientalist literature, diplomatic treaty negotiations, colonial administrative instruments, and the interconnectivity that resulted from technological improvements to the printing press, steamship travel, and the telegraph. Although religion was a European category and conception that had spread to the rest of the world by the turn of the nineteenth century, the process was uneven.Footnote 11 For instance, religion was both institutionalized and internalized in South Asia through instruments of colonial administration like censuses and the introduction of legal codes.Footnote 12 However, since Japan was a sovereign ‘Asian’ state, it was introduced as a diplomatic category through its encounter with Euro-American imperial powers.Footnote 13 Despite its European origins, though, the process by which religion was universalized took place in the context of the colonial (or, in Japan's case, imperial) encounter and, therefore, involved both local and non-European actors.Footnote 14

I argue that not only were non-European figures like Barkatullah, Dharmapala, and their Japanese counterparts participants in the global conversation about religion, Japan should be viewed as an important site that hosted and fostered these discussions. Through exploring these inter-Asian exchanges we can see more clearly that Europe did not have a monopoly on convening these conversations, even if European ideas and concepts were ever-present.Footnote 15 Moreover, although recent literature on pan-Islamism and transnational Buddhism has demonstrated the significant influence of transnational conversations to the emergence of modern Buddhism and modern Islam, the intersections of Barkatullah and Dharmapala's lives and projects show that these were intertwined movements that should be read together.Footnote 16

I borrow the term ‘world-religioning’ from Steven Kemper and adapt it to refer to four facets of Dharmapala and Barkatullah's projects: first, Dharmapala and Barkatullah intervening in Euro-American discourses about religions globally.Footnote 17 To be more specific, they both consistently challenged criticisms levelled against their respective religious traditions in Euro-American public discourse and scholarship. This does not mean that they had uniformly negative views of all Western scholarship, however. Dharmapala, for instance, held the work of Max Muller and Thomas Rhys Davids in high esteem. Second, a conscious articulation of one's own religious tradition as a universal ‘world religion’ within what Masuzawa describes as the emerging world religions 'paradigm'.Footnote 18 It is important to note here that they were always placing their religious traditions in comparison with other ‘world’ and ‘national’ religions. In short, Dharmapala and Barkatullah were invested in utilizing the comparative religions heuristic. While Christianity was ever-present in their world religioning discourse, in the inter-Asian context of Japan, Shintō and Confucianism were common reference points.

Third, both Dharmapala and Barkatullah were involved in projects that they thought could help unite the global communities of Buddhists and Muslims, respectively. Dharmapala's obsession was to re-establish Buddhist control over Bodh Gaya in order for it to serve as the centre for the global Buddhist community, much like Mecca functioned for the global Muslim ummah. The most enduring aspect of Barkatullah's career, meanwhile, was his pan-Islamic activism in which the institution of the caliphate was central. For Barkatullah, the caliphate was not just important symbolically due to its history that dated back to death of the Prophet Muhammad, it was indispensable for the possibility of Muslim political unity in the face of European imperialism. Fourth, Dharmapala and Barkatullah were both interested in spreading Buddhism and Islam, respectively, to the rest of the world. Although the geographical spread of a religion crossing racial and ethnic lines did not automatically translate as ‘universal’, it was a crucial ingredient in making the case in the world religions circuit and, more broadly, public conversations.

I will begin by giving brief biographical sketches of Barkatullah and Dharmapala before exploring the three main points of intersection between these two men: ‘world religioning’ in Japan, the British empire, and Theosophy.

Muhammad Barkatullah (1864–1927)

Barkatullah began his career as a religious scholar and intellectual, born and educated in the princely state of Bhopal in British India.Footnote 19 He spent the early part of his career abroad working in Britain (1880s–1903). Not long after arriving in the colonial metropole, Barkatullah quickly began to establish connections with local pan-Islamist networks centred around London and Liverpool, London-based Indian nationalists, as well as white-British allies in socialist and liberal circles. During his time in Britain, he was active in critiquing both the racism and bigotry faced by the burgeoning Muslim community there, as well as the negative stereotypes about the Ottoman empire and Islam as a religion more generally. However, during his time in Britain, Barkatullah seemed committed to imperial reform.Footnote 20

In 1903, Barkatullah was on the move again, this time across the Atlantic Ocean to New York City. Barkatullah came into his own as a public intellectual during his time in the United States, addressing important foreign policy issues of the day in journals and speeches. He also became far more critical towards British actions around the world than he had been in Britain. He not only addressed British actions in the Middle East and South Asia, he also discussed the British invasion of Tibet as well as the rise of Japan as a global power. Moreover, Barkatullah was at the heart of the growing Indian nationalist network abroad and developed close ties with Irish-American Fenians like John Devoy and George Freeman of the Clan na Gael.Footnote 21

Although Barkatullah was known to British authorities during his time in Britain and New York, he only seriously began to alarm British authorities after he moved to Tokyo in 1909 and began publishing ‘seditious’ anti-British materials. It was in Tokyo, where he stayed until 1914, that Barkatullah became an important connection between a network of radical Indian nationalists abroad and a host of nationalist and internationalist networks around the world.Footnote 22 These networks included Chinese republicans, Egyptian nationalists, Irish-American Fenians, Theosophists, Japanese pan-Asianists, and pan-Islamists. In 1913, the network of Indian revolutionaries abroad would go on to establish Ghadar, a revolutionary anti-British organization and movement based in California, along with a global network of radical Indian nationalists.Footnote 23 In the end, it was not until the impending outbreak of the First World War in 1914 that Barkatullah became a significant part of Ghadar and was involved in the overthrow of British rule. He aligned himself with the Germans and Ottomans during the war, and then the Bolsheviks after the war ended. Barkatullah—based in Switzerland in his final years—died on a trip to the United States committed to two causes: ending British rule in India as well as re-establishing a reformulated, decentred, and democratized caliphate after the Ottoman caliphate was abolished by the new Turkish Republic in 1924.

Anagarika Dharmapala (1864–1934)

Although Barkatullah has remained peripheral to the story of Indian nationalism and independence, his interlocutor Anagarika Dharmapala has been constructed as the originary figure of Sinhalese nationalism in post-independence Sri Lanka. Dharmapala was born into an elite Sinhala family with the name Don David Hewavitarne. His father Don Carolis was a Colombo-based businessman who sent his son to various Christian missionary schools. However, he also encouraged him to follow the path of the Buddha and become a brahmacharya. Despite enjoying the elite life of a son of an upper-caste Sinhalese businessman and working for his father's business enterprises, Dharmapala considered himself to be a serious Buddhist trying to follow the Buddha's path. In his revisionist biography of Dharmapala, Kemper argues that, far from being a ‘Protestant Buddhist’ as Richard Gombrich and Gananath Obeyesekere famously put forward, Dharmapala was a committed Buddhist ascetic who renounced sex, marriage, and drinking alcohol, wore ochre robes, and tried giving up eating meat and fish.Footnote 24 Significantly, he had no interest in the laicization of Lankan Buddhism, which is a central feature of the Protestant Buddhism formulation.Footnote 25 Rather, Kemper argues that Dharmapala was a social reformer who ‘thought he was entitled to lead the Buddhist affairs not because he was a pious layman but because he was a world renouncer and considerably more ascetic than the monks he knew’.Footnote 26

While much of the literature has focused on Dharmapala connecting Sinhalese identity to Buddhism and being an ethnic chauvinist, the likes of Steven Kemper, Maria Moritz, Harshana Rambukwella, Michael Roberts, and Anne Blackburn have highlighted the internationalist dimensions of Dharmapala's career.Footnote 27 First, they clearly illustrate how his life and career were intimately tied with the Theosophical Society (TS) that established itself in British Ceylon in 1880. Not only was Dharmapala inspired to become a leader in the Lankan ‘Buddhist revival’ by the lectures and publications of the TS, he also became a protégé of its chief organizer, Henry Olcott, from a young age. While Dharmapala broke with the TS later in his life over differences over its direction, he never stopped having regard for the Theosophical teachings of Madame Blavatksy and the supposed mahatmas, like Koot Hoomi, who lived in the Himalayas. Moreover, Dharmapala spent most of his adult life outside of Ceylon in a variety of locations like Britain, India, and Japan. Significantly, he wanted to gain ownership of the land which housed the Maha Bodhi temple, located in Bodh Gaya in British India, and establish it as the centre of the ‘Buddhist World’. The Maha Bodhi temple became his main obsession.

Dharmapala's Bodh Gaya objective serves as the departure point for a discussion of his intersections with Barkatullah. After all, not only was Bodh Gaya based in India, this project also played an important part in bringing him to Japan where he would meet Barkatullah.

World religioning in Japan, the British empire, and theosophy

In many ways it is unsurprising that Barkatullah and Dharmapala met one another in Japan after the ‘1905 moment’.Footnote 28 For various reformers, anticolonial activists, and intellectuals across Asia and Africa, the Japanese victory in the Russo-Japanese war represented a symbolic rebuttal to white supremacy.Footnote 29 The military victory ‘energized and strengthened’ anticolonial nationalists and provided an alternative model for modernity, one that was interpreted by intellectuals and activists from Asia and Africa to mean that non-Western religions, languages, and cultures were not obstacles for progress.Footnote 30 It was in this post-1905 context that Dharmapala and Barkatullah encountered one another.

They were connected to one another through mutual, pan-Asian Buddhist colleagues in Tokyo like Shaku Sōen and Tachibana Shundō, who spent a considerable amount of time in South Asia, as well as pan-Asianist ideologues like Ōkawa Shūmei.Footnote 31 Although the historiography of Japanese pan-Asianism has largely centred on geopolitical considerations and questions surrounding the movement's connections with the Japanese empire, more recent scholarship has begun to identify the significance of religious identity, ideas, and networks for various pan-Asianist figures.Footnote 32 Moreover, work by Selcuk Esenbel and Cemil Aydin, in particular, has demonstrated pan-Asianism's entanglements with parallel transnational movements like pan-Islamism and pan-Africanism, all of which emerged around the same period in the late nineteenth century.Footnote 33

While there is a significant body of literature on Dharmapala's career, including his time in Japan, Barkatullah's work on Japan has usually been characterized by his anti-British writings which were deemed ‘seditious’ by British authorities. This focus in the historiography is understandable as British pressure on the Japanese government meant that Barkatullah had to leave his post in Japan and move to the United States on the eve of the First World War, during which time he aligned with the Germans and the Ottomans in order to rid India of British rule.

However, Barkatullah was not just an anticolonial activist turned revolutionary, he was also a committed pan-Islamist who believed in the spiritual and geopolitical importance of the institution of the caliphate. As I have argued elsewhere, Barkatullah's pan-Islamism and imperial reformist activism became coupled projects during his time in Britain, both of which turned anti-British prior to the First World War.Footnote 34 These projects were ‘coupled’ in my view because they both had the same central target—the British empire. It not only ruled over Barkatullah's native India, it was also thought of as the ‘greatest Mohammedan’ empire in the world.Footnote 35 Moreover, although British India was not a Muslim-majority polity, it was a significant part of what many, including Barkatullah and the British authorities, considered to be the ‘Muslim World’. Barkatullah and other pan-Islamists demanded respect and favourable treatment of their ‘spiritual sovereign’, the Ottoman sultan and caliph.

For Barkatullah, British actions in India and the non-Indian territories of the ‘Muslim World’ were inextricably linked. A focus on either his religious activism or his anticolonialism misses out on recognizing that Barkatullah was experimenting with a number of parallel, complementary strategies that involved a constellation of, often overlapping, networks simultaneously.Footnote 36 This point is illustrated most clearly in Barkatullah's connections and activities during his time in New York where he not only had weekly meetings with Irish-American Fenians, he was also educating American Theosophists about Islam's liberal and ‘esoteric nature’, as well as connecting with an upper-class interracial, socialist group known as the Cosmopolitan Society of New York.Footnote 37

Dharmapala's meetings with Barkatullah and other Indian revolutionaries in Tokyo was part of the reason that ‘made Dharmapala look more revolutionary than he was’ to British authorities which were keeping tabs on them both.Footnote 38 Unlike Barkatullah, however, Dharmapala seems to have remained committed to imperial reform within the British empire. Although at times he was a harsh critic of British rule in Ceylon, unlike Barkatullah, there does not seem to be any evidence to suggest that he ever worked towards ending British rule in Ceylon.Footnote 39 Nor is there any real indication that Barkatullah and Dharmapala met in Tokyo in order to conspire against the British. Their interaction can be understood more accurately if we move away from a rigid anticolonial nationalist lens.

What is certain is that both Dharmapala and Barkatullah were involved in ‘world religioning’ projects during their time in Japan and that is what brought them into each other's spheres.Footnote 40 These were the coordinates of their intersection. While Barkatullah wanted dignity and respect for both colonized Muslims and the sovereign Muslim-ruled states like the Ottoman empire, Qajar Iran, and Afghanistan, Dharmapala wanted to reinvigorate Buddhism in Ceylon and India, and to establish a centre for Buddhists around the world. In other words, Barkatullah was trying to improve the position of the global Muslim community in the Eurocentric international order, while Dharmapala wanted to develop the symbols and consciousness of a global Buddhist community. Crucially, both spoke quite consciously of Islam and Buddhism, respectively, as ‘world religions’ and took part in world interfaith conferences that brought together experts and religious leaders from a variety of religious traditions.Footnote 41 During these discussions, Barkatullah and Dharmapala not only wanted to demonstrate the ‘world religion’ status of their respective religions to European scholars, they also wanted to convince them that Islam and Buddhism, respectively, could offer ‘materialist’ and ‘Christian’ Europe something that was missing: ‘Eastern spirituality’.

In her work, the Invention of World Religions, Tomoko Masuzawa demonstrates how the world religions paradigm was a European discursive formation that emerged in the nineteenth century and constructed various religions as a set of discrete, essentialized, and commensurate systems.Footnote 42 While seemingly an ecumenical approach, Masuzawa argues that for European scholars of religion, Protestant Christianity was generally considered the default religion through which other religious traditions were compared and contrasted. Moreover, as Peter Gottschalk rightly points out, despite the seemingly ‘scientific’ nature of the exercise, ‘these new classifications and the understanding of religion as a system of belief and practice not only developed in no small part in response to the exigencies of empire, but they also significantly reshaped non-Western views in the context of Western political and cultural hegemony’.Footnote 43

While Masuzawa's work focuses on the European discourses on religions worldwide in the context of European global hegemony, I build on her insight that the concept of religion and the world religions paradigm could not have become globalized without the agency of the likes of Indian Hindus and Japanese Buddhists, for example.Footnote 44 Therefore, the emergence of modern Buddhism and reformulations within the Islamic tradition were ‘cocreations’ that emerged out of the colonial encounter but through the labour of colonized subjects.Footnote 45 Moreover, despite the significance of European colonial expansion and Orientalist discourses on the radical reformulations that took place in the religious landscape across Asia, it is important to note that Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, and Confucianists alike were also drawing on networks and epistemologies that preceded European colonial domination in the region.Footnote 46

In order for one's religion to be considered by European scholars as a part of the pantheon of world religions, it had to be seen to be universal, global, textual, monotheistic, and compatible with ‘modern science’ and ‘rationality’. Although Islam was considered by many to be a world religion, there always seemed to be an asterisk of sorts next to it. While one could argue that the Quran had a universal message and that Islam was both monotheistic and global, European intellectuals like Ernest Renan and W. W. Hunter considered Islam to be irrational, violent, and fanatical.Footnote 47 I should note that it is important for these ideas and categorizations to be understood in the context of European imperial concerns about geopolitics and managing imperial subjects as well as the circulation of ethno-linguistic theories that saw Islam as a Semitic religion/race (alongside Judaism, which was often thought of as a ‘national’ religion rather than a ‘global’ one). Conversely, Buddhism and Hinduism were considered to be Aryan religions.Footnote 48

Throughout his writings and lectures directed towards Euro-American audiences, Barkatullah was eager to demonstrate what he considered to be the liberal, peaceful, egalitarian, and scientific potential within the Quran, often through historical examples from the supposed Islamic ‘Golden Age’.Footnote 49 Dharmapala, meanwhile, argued against the idea that Buddhism was an atheistic philosophy or reformist tradition that was, at its core, nihilistic and pessimistic.

For Dharmapala, Japan's rise as a regional and global power represented an example of the vitality of Buddhism in the contemporary world and a clear illustration that Buddhism was compatible with science and rationality. Japan was an example of Asian modernity with a strong Buddhist core. There are echoes here with how Barkatullah and other pan-Islamists viewed the Ottoman empire, which helps to explain why so many Indian, Egyptian, and Indonesian pan-Islamists argued against European discourses that labelled the Ottomans as autocratic and backward. However, there was no Japanese equivalent to the Ottoman caliphate for Buddhists like Dharmapala. What he wanted from Japanese Buddhists was not for Japan to become the spiritual centre of the Buddhistic world; rather, he was seeking Japanese assistance in revitalizing Buddhism across Asia and, crucially, help in taking back control of the Maha Bodhi temple, which was under the control of Hindu Saivite renouncers. After all, Dharmapala ‘knew the Japanese had means to support the Bodh Gaya cause at a level impossible to imagine for Sinhalas, Thais, or Burmese, not to mention his supporters in India, England, and the United States, who were well off but few and far between’.Footnote 50 The Maha Bodhi temple was considered to be the site where the historical Buddha attained enlightenment, and Dharmapala wanted to make it a centre for Buddhists around the world, regardless of sectarian affiliation. Bodh Gaya was an important piece in Dharmapala's vision for establishing a universal Buddhism.

Although Dharmapala thought that Islam was not ‘civilized’ enough to be a good fit for Japan, he did think of Islam as a world religion, alongside Christianity. When Dharmapala argued for the necessity of having control over Bodh Gaya for the Buddhist world, he made explicit comparisons with Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. In a memoir Dharmapala wrote that:

Bodh Gaya is to the Buddhist what the Holy Sepulcher is to the Christians, Zion is to the Jews and Mecca is to the Mahommedans…For twenty-five centuries Buddhist pilgrims have come—from Ceylon, Burma and Siam, from China, Japan, and Korea, from Turkistan and Tibet, to see the holy tree and the place where, the Buddha sat.Footnote 51

However, Islam also served as a negative example when speaking to sympathetic Bengali Hindu elites in India and Britain. Dharmapala used the narrative of the violent, fanatical, iconoclastic, and intolerant Muslim invaders in Indian history to contrast it with what he saw as Buddhism's positive influence on Indian history and civilization.Footnote 52

Although Dharmapala's ‘world religioning’ did not include an institution equivalent to that of the Ottoman caliphate, it is interesting to note that his colleague, the influential Lankan monk Hikkaduwe Sumangala—who served as the president and adviser to Dharmapala at the Maha Bodhi Society established by Dharmapala in 1891—looked to the king of Siam to take on the mantle of ‘spiritual sovereign’ for Theravada Buddhists in Burma, Ceylon, and Thailand. As Anne Blackburn points out, Sumangala's vision ‘drew on memories of earlier, precolonial, Buddhist kingship, as well as new idioms of statecraft’.Footnote 53 Sumangala envisioned establishing an Ecclesiastical Council under the patronage and protection of King Chulalongkorn. He and others tried, unsuccessfully in the end, to convince the king that this role would not damage his relationship with the British. This proposed arrangement and the complications Sumangala and King Chulalongkorn had to work through has parallels with the idea of the Ottoman sultan being the ‘spiritual sovereign’ for Indian Muslims, as imagined by Barkatullah, while they were still subject to British rule in the political realm.Footnote 54

For Barkatullah, Japan was important for his intertwined projects of anticolonial and pan-Islamic activism. He was initially convinced by both Paris-based Indian anticolonial activists like Madame Cama and Irish-American Fenians like John Devoy to apply for the post at the Tokyo Imperial University.Footnote 55 However, as I have already mentioned, Barkatullah also established a journal to educate Japanese citizens about Islam and played a significant role in the conversions of a few Japanese citizens to Islam. Although these conversions made headlines, I argue that Barkatullah was not primarily interested in converting a large number of people in Japan to Islam, if for no other reason that it could be seen as a threat and an insult to his Japanese Buddhist colleagues—akin to how Christian missionaries were perceived across Asia. Rather, Barkatullah's presence in Tokyo, along with the existence of even a few elite Japanese converts, represented not only Islam's globality, but also an attempt to bring Japan into the ‘Muslim World’. In other words, it could help make Islam a part of Japanese society and, therefore, less foreign. I argue that this idea was informed by his experiences in Liverpool in the 1880s and 1890s when he worked at the Liverpool Muslim Institute (LMI) established by the Victorian gentleman and convert to Islam, Abdullah Quilliam.Footnote 56

During Barkatullah's brief tenure at the Institute, the LMI became an intellectual and diplomatic hub for Muslims visiting Britain. For instance, Quilliam had developed close relationships with powerful Muslim leaders like the Ottoman sultan Abdulhamid II and the amir of Afghanistan. Quilliam was particularly loyal to the Ottoman sultan and caliph, who was an important supporter of and donor for Quilliam's activism. Therefore, the LMI was not just important symbolically—established as it was by a white, Victorian gentlemen in Liverpool—it also became a diplomatic hub that connected influential Muslims spread across the world and advocated for Muslims globally.Footnote 57

Inspired by Quilliam's LMI, Barkatullah used his time in Tokyo to establish connections with a variety of religious, intellectual, and political figures.Footnote 58 Through his monthly publication Islamic Fraternity, meanwhile, Barkatullah tried not only to argue against Orientalist depictions of Islam and articulate Islam's globality, he also discussed how Indian Muslims and the ‘Muslim world’ more broadly could learn from Japan's rise as a modern industrial and military power.

Barkatullah also had a positive outlook towards the religious landscape in Japan. He argued that ‘Japanese latitudinarianism’ in the religious realm meant that Shintō, Confucianism, and Buddhism ‘all have equal hold on the sentiments of the people and enjoy equal respect’. Quoting an unnamed Japanese scholar, Barkatullah made the case that these different traditions weaved together seamlessly in Japanese society through an arrangement where ‘Shintoism furnishes the object, Confucianism offers the rules of life, while Buddhism supplies the way of salvation’.Footnote 59

It is understandable to analyse Barkatullah's glowing observations of religious tolerance and politics in Japan as purely strategic, and even obsequious, considering he was trying to ingratiate himself with his Japanese hosts.Footnote 60 However, these reflections were also indicative of Barkatullah's anxieties about events in his native British India where he could see early signs of religious tension in the political arena. For instance, in Islamic Fraternity, he criticized the nascent All-India Muslim League for ‘meddling’ with politics and advised the institution to ‘devote itself to the cause of national education’ for Indian Muslims. He also argued for sincere efforts to be made towards maintaining Hindu-Muslim unity and warned against his co-religionists castigating their Hindu brothers and sisters who ‘will be always in India with us’.Footnote 61 Unlike Dharmapala, therefore, who seemed to think of Indian civilization as an architectural structure resting on the twin pillars of Hinduism and Buddhism, I argue that Barkatullah understood it in oceanic terms, with various streams flowing in, including Islam.Footnote 62

Dharmapala on Islam and Muslims

Islam and Muslims were not a significant part of Dharmapala's writings as he was primarily interested in Buddhism in relationship to Christianity, Theosophy, and Hinduism. However, in putting his projects and ideas alongside Barkatullah's, it is important to examine his writings on Islam and Muslims more closely. While this section will focus on Dharmapala's views on Islam and Muslims, it is important to point out that Barkatullah also briefly mentioned Buddhism in his writings. For instance, Buddhism appears as a ‘world religion’ alongside Christianity and Islam in Barkatullah's speeches and articles. More substantially, he discussed the trauma of the British invasion of Lhasa in 1904 for Buddhists around the world. In an article entitled, ‘The British Invasion of Tibet. In Defence of the Dalai Lama’, Barkatullah wrote:

The invasion of Tibet by the British army, the violation of the sanctity of isolation of the Buddhistic capital, and laying bare the secrets of the holy of holies of the Grand Cathedral (jo-kang) to the vulgar gaze are events not only significant from a political point of view, but also fraught with an element of danger from the religious standpoint. For Lhassa is to China, Japan, and [K]orea what Mecca is to Turkey, Persia, and Afghanistan. The desecration of the Holy Land of northern Buddhism has spread consternation among millions of people in Asia and created a commotion in the Far East.Footnote 63

Although the article was primarily a critique of British actions against fellow ‘Eastern’ Asian peoples, Barkatullah showed sympathy with the ‘Buddhistic World’ and the Dalai Lama. This article is also indicative of Barkatullah's interests in pan-Asianist politics several years prior to his arrival into Tokyo in 1909.Footnote 64

Dharmapala, meanwhile, published more regularly through his diaries and the journal Maha Bodhi and the United Buddhist World and had much more to say about Islam.Footnote 65 Dharmapala wrote about Islam's doctrine and civilizational history, reflected on his meetings with Barkatullah, and talked about the various Muslim communities in his native Ceylon. Therefore, Dharmapala's concerns related to Islam and Muslims in abstract, personal, global, and local terms and contexts. In the following paragraphs, I briefly examine Dharmapala's attitude towards Islam and Muslims in three ways: Dharmapala's writings on Islamic history, his comments regarding Barkatullah, and his understanding of the place of Muslim communities in his native Ceylon.

Broadly speaking, it is clear that Dharmapala held negative views of Islam as a ‘civilization’. This was in large part because he shared the popularly held notion that Islam was responsible for the demise of Buddhism in India.Footnote 66 However, even when Islam is mentioned, Dharmapala's interest was almost never Islam itself. By this I mean that when Dharmapala discussed Islamic history, it was usually for the purpose of explaining a historical phenomenon or using Islam as an example in his comparative religioning. For instance, a common way in which Islam entered the scene in Dharmapala's writing was him placing Buddhist texts, founding figure, and religious sites alongside those of other ‘world religions’ like Islam and Christianity. In this way, Muhammad and Mecca were comparable to the historical Buddha and Bodh Gaya.

Dharmapala often blamed Islam for the decline of Buddhism in India, in large part, to argue that Buddhism and Hinduism were compatible with one other before the ‘Muslim period’ in Indian history. In an article on ‘Who Destroyed Buddhism in India?’, he argued that Muslim fanaticism was experienced not just in medieval India:

Buddhism was not the only religion that suffered persecution at the hands of the Muhammedans. The whole of Zoroastrian literature was swept off and the whole religion effaced out of existence in Persia. The destruction of the magnificent collection of books in the Alexandrian Library; the extirpation of Christians in the Alexandria, Asia Minor and Turkey—all these fiendish acts were committed by the fanatics of Islam, who loved to dwell in darkness and ignorance.Footnote 67

Interestingly, in countering the idea that Christianity was central to European progress, Dharmapala argued that ‘all the arts and sciences such as medicine and alchemy were in the hands of the Mohamedans, to whom and not to Christianity is the real progress of Europe due’.Footnote 68 Even here, we can see that although Dharmapala credits Islam with European civilizational progress, the real target was countering self-congratulatory Christian narratives. A common strategy Dharmapala employed to counter Christian supremacy, however, was to highlight its similarity to Islam. Christianity and Islam were connected in that they were both Semitic and emerged from Arabia.Footnote 69 ‘Materialistic’ religions like Christianity, Judaism, and Islam grew out of the ‘barren soil’ of Arabia, whereas the ‘metaphysical’ religions of the Aryans were birthed in the fertile soil of the Ganges valley.Footnote 70 Here, again, the central target of critique is Christianity rather than Islam.

There does not seem to be much evidence of Dharmapala having any significant personal relationships with Muslims during his life. This is precisely one of the reasons that makes Barkatullah's appearance in Dharmapala's diaries so interesting. Reading his diary, it seems as if Dharmapala and Barkatullah were on cordial terms during his time in Japan. They had dinner several times and Barkatullah and his protégé Hassan Hatano even went to visit him to give their farewells on 12 August 1913.Footnote 71 However, even in these diary entries, it is clear that Dharmapala disapproves of Barkatullah preaching his ‘pagan’ religion in Japan. Aside from Barkatullah, there do not seem to be any personal interactions of note between Dharmapala and Muslims in either Calcutta or Colombo.Footnote 72

It is his attitudes and statements about Muslims in Ceylon that have received the most scholarly attention. Dharmapala was interned by British authorities following the 1915 anti-Muslim riots that lasted for nine days and resulted in deaths, sexual violence, and the destruction of property.Footnote 73 Dharmapala's name has become indelibly tied to the riots.Footnote 74 While the reasons for the riots have been a topic of debate in Sri Lankan historiography, Dharmapala has been seen by many scholars as a central figure in creating the anti-Muslim atmosphere in which the violence occurred.Footnote 75 In an oft-quoted letter to the secretary of state for colonies, Dharmapala deployed anti-Jewish tropes on Muslims when he wrote that they were ‘alien’ to the island and had become ‘prosperous like the Jews’ by employing ‘Shylockian methods’.Footnote 76

These statements are part of the reason why Dharmapala is considered to have played a significant role in creating an anti-Muslim environment through his economic, Sinhalese-Buddhist nationalism. The ‘indigenous’ Sinhalese Buddhists, Dharmapala argued, had been betrayed by the British. It is important to recognize, however, that Dharmapala was not primarily a nationalist.Footnote 77 For instance, he was ‘never overtly politically active in Sri Lanka’ and ‘appears to have been largely marginalised by the local political elite’.Footnote 78 In thinking about Dharmapala's universalism, global activities, and nationalism, Rambukwella argues that ‘Dharmapala's universalism abroad and particularism at home undermine the authenticity attributed to him in later nationalist recuperations. Rather than a diehard nationalist, we may see a man who strategically shifts position to operate in a translocal world.’Footnote 79

In summary, while Dharmapala had negative views of Islamic history and of Islam as a religious tradition, it is important to recognize that Islam was largely in his peripheral vision. Usually when Dharmapala mentioned Islam in his writings, he was concerned with critiquing Christianity or discussing Buddhism's relationship to Hinduism. Although he interacted with Barkatullah on friendly terms, in his diaries and journal he clearly objected to Barkatullah preaching in Japan. Significantly, it was against Ceylonese Muslims, particularly the Coast Moors, that Dharmapala's language was most virulently anti-Muslim.Footnote 80 The contrast between Barkatullah and Dharmapala's views on their counterparts’ religious tradition might, in part, be understood through their positions in India and Ceylon, respectively. While Barkatullah came from a religious ‘minority’ in India that was being ‘Othered’ as foreign, Dharmapala came from the religious and ethnic majority in Ceylon.Footnote 81 However, although they are important, political and ethical commitments are not reducible to the political contexts of identities.

Conclusion

Barkatullah, Dharmapala, and the Japanese Buddhists they interacted with entered the conversation about religion with their European counterparts from a defensive position, arguing that their respective religious traditions were indeed compatible with modernity. However, they also put forward the idea that spirituality emanating from their respective ‘Eastern’ religions had the potential to heal the wounds of the world around them. The destruction caused by the Great War would have confirmed to them and their contemporaries around the world that the materialistic ‘Western civilization’ was barbaric and violent at its core.Footnote 82

Despite their differences about Islam as a religion and its role in Indian history, it is important to recognize the significant overlap in both their ideas and networks. For instance, what is perhaps hidden from view is the influence of Theosophical thinking for both Barkatullah and Dharmapala. Theosophy—a Western esoteric movement that, at least in theory, promised universal brotherhood and equality—proved to be appealing to them both. In crucial ways, their interactions with Theosophists and Theosophical materials, as well as access to the global Theosophical network, shaped the way they understood and articulated their own religious traditions.

While their personal interactions were few, studying these two figures together paints a more precise picture of the content, texture, and lived reality of religious internationalisms from the late nineteenth century until 1914. Importantly, it makes visible the fact that religion played a central role alongside nationalism, race, and empire in conversations about the possible futures of the international order.Footnote 83 Their relationship also raises the crucial question of whether these inter-Asian conversations about comparative religion ended up sharpening the boundaries between religious traditions like Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam, Shintō, and Christianity. In the case of Barkatullah and Dharmapala, while there were clear differences in the way their projects were articulated and in the goals they sought, their respective projects were entangled and had clear structural similarities. In comparing and contrasting the lives and works of Barkatullah and Dharmapala, we can see the interconnected histories in a new light, that is, as shared and, at times, contradictory visions for futures past.

Acknowledgements

This article comes out of a paper I gave at the Global Brexit and the Lost Futures of European Empires Conference held in April 2019 in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I would like to thank Susan Pennybacker for encouraging me to give the paper. I would also like to thank Richard Jaffe, Steven Kemper, Anne Blackburn, David Gilmartin, Ulrich Brandenburg, and Sana Tannoury-Karam for providing helpful feedback on the draft of the conference paper. I also want to express my gratitude to my adviser Cemil Aydin, as well as Micah Hughes and Mark Reeves, for discussing this topic with me and giving detailed comments on multiple manuscript drafts. Finally, I wish to extend a special thanks to the two anonymous reviewers of MAS for their detailed feedback and advice which helped me to clarify my arguments. In particular, I would like to thank them for encouraging me to expand on Dharmapala's views and writings on Islam.

Competing interests

None.

References

1 Dharmapala, Anagarika, ‘Islam and Japan’, Journal of the Maha Bodhi Society, vol. 19, 1911, pp. 2830Google Scholar.

2 Extract from Report by New Scotland Yard on ‘Maulvie Mahomed Barkat-ullah’, 30 July 1924, India Office Records, British Library, IOR/L/PJ/12/213; ‘Hindu Teacher for Japan’, New York Sun, 6 February 1909, p. 3.

3 Muhammad Barkatullah, Notice to the Subscribers of the Islamic Fraternity, 1912.

4 For an excellent article cataloguing the reception of Barkatullah's Islamic Fraternity, see Brandenburg, Ulrich, ‘An Inventory of the First Muslim Journal in Japan: The Islamic Fraternity (1910–12) and Its Successors’, Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, vol. 35, no. 2, 2019, pp. 177204Google Scholar.

5 It is important to note that between 1868 and 1945, there was a growing interest among Japanese pan-Asianist activists and scholars about Islam and how it compared or related to the Japanese ‘spirit’, nation, and empire. For more on Japanese scholarship on Islam between 1868 and 1945, see Brandenburg, Ulrich, ‘Imagining an Islamic Japan: Pan-Asianism's Encounter with Muslim Mission’, Japan Forum, vol. 32, no. 2, 2020, pp. 161184CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Misawa, Nobuo, ‘Shintoism and Islam in Interwar Japan: How did the Japanese Come to Believe in Islam’, Orient: The Reports of the Society for Near Eastern Studied in Japan, vol. 46, 2011, pp. 119139CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Usuki, Akira, ‘A Japanese Asianist's View of Islam’, Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, vol. 28, no. 2, 2013, pp. 5984Google Scholar.

6 Dharmapala, ‘Islam and Japan’, p. 29. It is interesting here to note Richard Jaffe's book that highlights the connections forged between South Asia and Japanese Buddhists from the late nineteenth century. Jaffe charts the ideas and movements of Japanese Buddhists who began to travel to South Asia, including Ceylon, in order to study the ‘origins of Buddhism’. In particular, they began learning Pali and Sanskrit languages to enhance their ability to read ancient Buddhist texts. One such figure was Shaku Sōen (1860–1919) who travelled across South and Southeast Asia and spent time in Ceylon. There is a quote from Sōen, when discussing the situation of Buddhism across Asia, from a publication in 1889 that resembles Dharmapala's words when he writes: ‘At the front door the world of Christianity opens its draws; at the back door the tiger of Islam sharpens its claws.’ Quoted in Jaffe, Richard, Seeking Sakyamuni: South Asia in the Formation of Modern Japanese Buddhism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2019), p. 46CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

7 While Barkatullah's beginnings were humble, both men operated in primarily elite, male circles in global metropoles like London and Tokyo. This does not necessarily mean that Barkatullah became wealthy or had financial stability throughout his adult life, however. Moreover, their lives did intersect with elite women from Europe and the United States like Annie Besant, Hypatia Bradlaugh Bonner, Mary White Ovington, Madame Blavatsky, Marie de Souza Canavarro, Sara Bull, and Mary Foster. For instance, Foster—the Hawaiian philanthropist and Theosophist—was a patron of Dharmapala and his Maha Bodhi Society. It is also important to note that Madame Cama, an important figure in the Indian revolutionary movement, was said to have helped Barkatullah to secure his teaching post in Tokyo. Significantly, Barkatullah and Dharmapala did occasionally discuss questions directly related to gender in their writings. However, it was usually to counter Euro-American arguments about the ill-treatment of women in their respective societies and religious traditions. Their writings suggest that they were often talking about women rather than with women in Muslim and Buddhist societies, respectively.

8 Goodman, Grant, ‘Dharmapala in Japan, 1913’, Japan Forum, vol. 5, no. 2, October 1993, p. 197CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

9 Aydin, C., The Politics of Anti-Westernism in Asia: Visions of World Order in Pan-Islamic and Pan-Asian Thought (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007), p. 113CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

10 ‘Religion’ emerged as a category in Europe between the fifteenth and the seventeenth centuries to mean something that was ‘transhistorical, transcultural, essentially interior, and essentially distinct from public, secular rationality’. See Cavanaugh, W. C., The Myth of Religious Violence: Secular Ideology and the Roots of Modern Conflict (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), p. 59CrossRefGoogle Scholar. For more on the history of the construction of the concept of religion and discussions around definition, see Asad, T., Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993)Google Scholar; Smith, J. Z., ‘Religion, Religions, Religious’, in Critical Terms for Religious Studies, (ed.) Taylor, Mark C. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998), pp. 269284Google Scholar; Cavanaugh, The Myth of Religious Violence, pp. 57–85. It is important to note that there is much debate in the scholarship regarding how the European term ‘religion’ related to indigenous terms like din in Arabic, agama in Sanskrit, and shūkyō in Japanese. While the scholarship above has focused on the newness and particularity of the concept of ‘religion’, others have argued that the concept was not as radical a departure from local understandings as has been emphasized in some of the scholarship, and/or that indigenous terms were not too dissimilar to the European concept of religion. See Malalgoda, K., ‘Concept and Confrontations: A Case Study of Agama’, in Sri Lanka: Collective Identities Revisited, Vol. 1, (ed.) Roberts, Michael (Colombo: Marga, 1997), pp. 5578Google Scholar; Fuerst, Ilyse Morgenstein, ‘Locating Religion in South Asia: Islamicate Definitions and Categories’, Comparative Islamic Studies, vol. 10, no. 2, 2014, pp. 217241CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

11 For clarity, it is important for me to note that the introduction of the concept of ‘religion’ from Europe to non-European contexts does not imply the colonial invention of religious traditions. Rather than thinking in terms of inventions, I prefer to think about these historical transformations as radical reformulations of local categories and ideas that emphasized ‘fixity’. By this I mean the sharpening and hardening of boundaries between religion and science, superstition, and ‘the secular’, as well as between religious traditions. In thinking about these reformulations in the context of European colonialism or hegemony, Charles Hallisey proposes that we think about these dynamics as an ‘intercultural mimesis’. By which he means, rather than thinking about these complex dynamics as simply being responses by colonized populations to the West ‘characterized by negation or inversion’, we should also ‘consider occasions where it seems that aspects of a culture of a subjectified people influenced the investigator to represent that culture in a certain manner’. See Hallisey, Charles, ‘Roads Taken and Not Taken in the Study of Theravada Buddhism’, in Curators of the Buddha: The Study of Buddhism Under Colonialism, (ed.) Lopez, D. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), p. 33Google Scholar. I am borrowing the term ‘fixity’ from Sivasundaram, Sujit, Islanded: Britain, Sri Lanka and the Bounds of an Indian Ocean Colony (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2013), pp. 9293CrossRefGoogle Scholar. I am also engaging with Jason Josephson-Storm's argument that the category of religion comes out through a ‘trinary formation’ separating religion from ‘superstition’ and ‘the secular’ in Josephson-Storm, J., The Invention of Religion in Japan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), p. 5CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

12 For the colonial understandings and regulation of religion in South Asia, see Stephens, J., Governing Islam: Law, Empire, and Secularism in Modern South Asia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Gottschalk, P., Religion, Science and Empire: Classifying Hinduism and Islam in British India (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Dirks, N., Castes of Mind: Colonialism and the Making of Modern India (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2001)Google Scholar; King, R., Orientalism and Religion: Postcolonial Theory, India and the ‘Mystical East’ (London: Routledge, 1999)Google Scholar; Thapar, R., Interpreting Early India (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992)Google Scholar; Rogers, John D., ‘Early British Rule and Social Classification in Lanka’, Modern Asian Studies, vol. 38, no. 3, July 2004, pp. 625647CrossRefGoogle Scholar and Rogers, J. D., ‘Caste as a Social Category and Identity in Colonial Lanka’, The Indian Economic and Social History Review, vol. 41, no. 1, February 2004, pp. 5177CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Sivasundaram, Islanded; Scott, D., Formations of Ritual: Colonial and Anthropological Discourses on the Sinhala Yaktovil (Minneapolis: Minnesota University Press, 1994)Google Scholar; Harris, E., Theravada Buddhism and the British Encounter: Religious, Missionary and Colonial Experience in Nineteenth-Century Sri Lanka (London: Routledge, 2006)CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

13 See Josephson-Storm, Invention of Religion; Thomas, J. B., Faking Liberties: Religious Freedom in American-Occupied Japan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2019)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Maxey, T. E., The ‘Greatest Problem’: Religion and State Formation in Meiji Japan (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2014)Google Scholar.

14 For instance, Hans Martin Krämer argues that Japanese domestic politics and concerns played a central role in the formation of the twinned categories of ‘religion’ and ‘the secular’. See Krämer, H. Martin, Shimaji Mokurai and the Reconception of Religion and the Secular in Modern Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2015)Google Scholar.

15 It is also important to note that Europe was ‘present’ in many other ways. Not only did Asian figures often speak to each other in English, they were also familiar with Orientalist writings, either in their original form or in translation. Moreover, despite being in Japan, South Asian figures like Barkatullah and Dharmapala were on the radar of British surveillance and were often conscious of this fact. Therefore, these conversations were always mediated by Europe and, in particular, the British empire.

16 For examples of recent literature on pan-Islamism, see Aydin, C., The Idea of the Muslim World (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2017)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Ryad, U., ‘Anti-Imperialism and the Pan-Islamic Movement’, in Islam and the European Empires, (ed.) Motadel, David (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 131149CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Devji, Faisal, ‘The Language of Muslim Universality’, Diogenes, vol. 57, no. 35, 2010, pp. 2539CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Zaman, Faridah, ‘Beyond Nostalgia: Time and Place in Indian Muslim Politics’, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, vol. 27, no. 4, 2017, pp. 627647CrossRefGoogle Scholar. For recent literature that explores the transnational dimensions of modern Buddhism, see D. McMahan, The Making of Modern Buddhism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008); Snodgrass, J., Presenting Japanese Buddhism to the West: Orientalism, Occidentalism, and the Columbian Exposition (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2003)Google Scholar; Kemper, S., Rescued from the Nation: Anagarika Dharmapala and the Buddhist World (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015)Google Scholar; Jaffe, Seeking Sakyamuni.

17 Kemper, Rescued from the Nation. Malory Nye argues that, rather than discussing ‘religion’, we should talk about ‘religioning’, which, he argues, ‘is not a thing, with an essence, to be defined and explained. Religioning is a form of practice, like other cultural practice, that is done and performed by actors with their own agency…A discourse of religioning also moves away from looking at “religion” in terms of “religions” (Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, etc.), but instead looks at religious influences and religious creativities, and the political dynamics through which certain conceptualizations of religious authenticity are produced and maintained.’ See M. Nye, ‘Religion, Post-Religionism, and Religioning: Religious Studies and Contemporary Cultural Debates’, Method and Theory in the Study of Religion, vol. 12, no. 1–4, 2010, p. 467.

18 Masuzawa, T., The Invention of World Religion: Or, How European Universalism was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2005), p. 12CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

19 The details of his early life in India are unclear, including his date of birth. He is often quoted as being born between 1859 and 1864. In British files on Barkatullah, both those of the India Office and the Government of India, he is said to have been born in 1864. In his articles, his first name is usually written as either Barakatullah or Barkatullah. I am going with the latter in this article. Extract from Report by New Scotland Yard on ‘Maulvie Mahomed Barkat-ullah’, 30 July 1924, India Office Records, British Library, IOR/L/PJ/12/213; ‘Government of India, Foreign and Political Department Notes, Secret—Internal—A, Proceedings, February 1914, nos. 11–18’, National Archives of India. For a non-official, contemporaneous biographical note on Barkatullah, see Patterson, Charles Brodie, ‘Mohammad Barakatullah: A Biographic Sketch’, Mind, vol. 12, no. 7, October 1903, pp. 494495Google Scholar. For scholarship on Barkatullah's career, see H. Ansari, ‘Maulana Barkatullah Bhopali's Transnationalism: Pan-Islamism, Colonialism and Racial Politics’, in Transnational Islam in Interwar Europe: Muslim Activists and Thinkers, (eds) Gotz Nordbruch and Umar Ryad (London: Palgrave MacMillan, 2014), pp. 181–209; Mohammed Ayub Khan, ‘Universal Islam: The Faith and Political Ideologies of Maulana Barkatullah “Bhopali”’, Sikh Formations, vol. 10, no. 1, February 2014, pp. 57–67; Samee Siddiqui, ‘Coupled Internationalisms: Charting Muhammad Barkatullah's Anti-colonialism and Pan-Islamism’, ReOrient, vol. 5, no. 1, Autumn 2019, pp. 25–46.

20 It is also important to note that Barkatullah helped train students from the universities of Oxford and Cambridge in Arabic, Persian, and Urdu for Indian Civil Service examinations. See Patterson, ‘Mohammad Barakatullah’, p. 494.

21 For more on the connections between Indian and Irish nationalists, see M. Silvestri, Ireland and India: Nationalism, Empire and Memory (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009).

22 See M. Ramnath, Haj to Utopia: How the Ghadar Movement Charted Global Radicalism and Attempted to Overthrow the British Empire (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011), pp. 222–225; Harald Fischer-Tine, ‘Indian Nationalism and the “World Forces”: Transnational and Diasporic Dimensions of the Indian Freedom Movement on the Eve of the First World War’, Journal of Global History, vol. 2, no. 3, November 2007, pp. 337–338.

23 For two excellent monographs on Ghadar, see Ramnath, Haj to Utopia; Sohi, S., Echoes of Mutiny: Race, Surveillance, and Indian Anticolonialism in North America (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014)CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

24 The concept of ‘Protestant Buddhism’, and how Dharmapala fits into it, is a vexed question that has produced much debate. Considering Dharmapala features as a central figure in debates revolving around this term, it is important for me to highlight the basic contours of the debate. Richard Gombrich and Gananath Obeyesekere, in their monumental work Buddhism Transformed: Religious Change in Sri Lanka (published in 1988), argued that Protestant Buddhism refers to the transformations to Sri Lankan Buddhist tradition that has its roots in the late nineteenth century. Although they expand on the various ways in which Buddhist sensibilities, institutions, and practice were reformulated, the central idea is that this reformist project originated in reaction to British rule and, in particular, Protestant missionary activity in Ceylon. Importantly, while the emerging class of an English-speaking, Sinhalese Buddhist elite opposed Christian missionaries, they ‘assumed salient characteristics’ of Protestantism. Gombrich and Obeyesekere identify Dharmapala as the ‘founder’ of Protestant Buddhism, with his mentor from the Theosophical Society, Henry Olcott, being its ‘patron’. The reformist movement aimed to revive Buddhist prestige, which had been damaged after decades of colonial rule and had led to the ‘demoralization of the Buddhist peasantry’. Some of the characteristics of these shifts included modelling Buddhist educational institutions on Christian missionary schools, an impulse towards Buddhist monasticism that was, at the very least, ‘ambivalent’ and, at most, opposed to the traditional authority of the Buddhist sangha. The other characteristics include a dependency on English-language concepts, the idea that Buddhism was a ‘philosophy’ rather than a ‘religion’, with an increasing focus being put on canonical texts that could be directly accessed by lay followers. See Gombrich, R. and Obeyesekere, G., Buddhism Transformed: Religious Change in Sri Lanka (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998), pp. 7 and 202–224Google Scholar. As John C. Holt points out in his review essay, Protestant Buddhism was introduced initially by Obeyesekere in an article in 1970 as a heuristic device to help understand how Buddhists responded to missionaries and proved useful to a variety of scholars. However, in Buddhism Transformed, Protestant Buddhism was ‘reified’ and became a ‘movement’ with distinct historical origins. In expanding the concept, Protestant Buddhism went from being a reaction against certain aspects of Protestant Christian missionary activity on the island to being seen as a movement that opposed ‘traditional Buddhism’ as well. Holt critiques this expanded version of Protestant Buddhism on a variety of fronts. For instance, he argues that it obscures soteriological differences between Buddhism and Protestantism. For Holt, ‘more than causing “internalization”, “rationalization”, and “laicization” among Sinhala Buddhists’, as Gombrich and Obeyesekere claim, ‘Protestant Christian missionaries helped to rekindle’ militant, missionary Buddhism in the modern era. Therefore, Sinhala Buddhists were ‘“mirror images” of their rivals in form, but not substance’. See J. C. Holt, ‘Protestant Buddhism?’, Religious Studies Review, vol. 17, no. 4, October 1991, p. 310. More recently, Anne Blackburn has demonstrated that Buddhist monastic authority and prestige were not diminished in the nineteenth century and that ‘Buddhist interest in authoritative texts of the tipitaka and the Pali language had substantial roots in the mid-eighteenth century reorganization of Lankan monasticism. Nineteenth-century editorial work on authoritative Pali texts owed much to intra-Buddhist monastic debate and lay-monastic patronage politics as well as to the strategic requirements of Buddhist-Christian polemic.’ See A. Blackburn, Buddhist Learning and Textual Practice in Eighteenth-Century Lankan Monastic Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011), p. 200. For a critique of Holt's reading, in particular, of Gombrich and Obeyesekere and an alternative perspective on Protestant Buddhism and Buddhist transformations in the context of colonial modernity, see Abeysekere, Ananda, and, ‘Protestant BuddhismInfluence”: The Temporality of a Concept’, Que Parle, vol. 28, no. 1, June 2019, pp. 175Google Scholar.

25 However, it is important to note that Dharmapala did fashion a new title for himself—‘anagarika’ (or homeless)—which he borrowed from ‘traditional Hinduism via Theosophy’. According to Gombrich and Obeyesekere, the anagarika role seems to have been an ‘interstitial role’ invented in order to ‘preserve the clear distinction between roles of the monk and the laity’. See Gombrich and Obeyesekere, Buddhism Transformed, pp. 217 and 227; Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 65.

26 Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 44.

27 See Kemper, Rescued from the Nation; M. Moritz, ‘“The Empire of Righteousness”: Anagarika Dharmapala and His Vision of Buddhist Asianism (c.1900)’, in Asianisms: Regionalist Interactions and Asian Integration, (eds) Marc Frey and Nicola Spakowski (Singapore: NUS Press, 2015), pp. 19–48; Blackburn, A., Locations of Buddhism: Colonialism and Modernity in Sri Lanka (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Roberts, Michael, ‘For Humanity. For the Sinhalese. Dharmapala as Crusading Bosat’, The Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 56, no. 4, November 1997CrossRefGoogle Scholar, pp. 1006–1032; Rambukwella, H., The Politics and the Poetics of Authenticity: A Cultural Genealogy of Sinhala Nationalism (London: UCL Press, 2018)CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

28 For a chapter on the ‘1905 moment’, see C. Aydin, ‘A Global Anti-Western Moment? The Russo-Japanese War, Decolonization and Asian Modernity’, in Competing Visions of World Order: Global Moments and Movements, 1880s—1930s, (eds) Sebastian Conrad and Dominic Sachsenmaier (New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2007), pp. 213–236.

29 For an excellent monograph exploring Black intellectual and activist engagements with Japan, see Y. Onishi, Transpacific Antiracism: Afro-Asian Solidarity in 20th-Century Black America (New York: New York University Press, 2013).

30 Aydin, Politics of Anti-Westernism in Asia, p. 78.

31 During the Meiji and Taishō periods, Japan also became an important site for pan-Asianist organizing and institutions, which often included prominent Japanese politicians, bureaucrats, intellectuals, and figures from the military and security establishment. However, officially the Japanese empire largely avoided using pan-Asianist rhetoric in order to maintain ties with Euro-American powers and to not further stoke Western ‘yellow peril’ fears during the Meiji and Taishō periods. It was not until the early 1930s, in the aftermath of the Japanese invasion of Manchuria that the Japanese empire appropriated pan-Asianist rhetoric and networks for its militaristic foreign policy in Asia. For important scholarship on pan-Asianism, see Aydin, Politics of Anti-Westernism in Asia; E. Hotta, Pan-Asianism and Japan's War 1931–1945 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007); T. Weber, Embracing ‘Asia’ in China and Japan: Asianism Discourse and the Contest for Hegemony, 1912–1933 (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2018). For an excellent historiographical essay on the Japanese empire, see Jordan Sand, ‘Subaltern Imperialists: The New Historiography of the Japanese Empire’, Past and Present, vol. 225, no. 1, November 2014, pp. 273–288. Robert Tierney argues that Japanese imperialism was different to, yet mimetic of, Western imperialism and, therefore, can be understood as ‘interstitial imperialism’ by a ‘colored’ empire. See R. Tierney, Tropics of Savagery: The Culture of Japanese Empire in Comparative Frame (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2010), pp. 20–28.

32 See H. Kim, Empire of the Dharma: Korean and Japanese Buddhism, 1877–1912 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2013); Jaffe, Seeking Sakyamuni; Hans Martin Krämer, ‘Pan-Asianism's Religious Undercurrents: The Reception of Islam and Translation of the Qur'an in Twentieth-Century Japan’, The Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 73, no. 3, August 2014, pp. 619–640; Prasenjit Duara, ‘The Discourse of Civilization and Pan-Asianism’, Journal of World History, vol. 12, no. 1, Spring 2001, pp. 99–130. It is important to note that while Japan, due to its rise as a regional power, became the centre in Japanese and other Asian imaginaries, it was not the only imagined centre. In turn-of-the-century Japanese discourses, China and India were often seen as birthplaces of Asia's civilizational essences, namely Confucianism and Buddhism. Moreover, Carolien Stolte has demonstrated, in Indian imaginaries of the future of Asia, India often played a central, leading role, rightly pointing out that there were several visions of Asianism. See C. Stolte, ‘Compass Points: Four Indian Cartographies of Asia, c. 1930–55’, in Asianisms: Regionalist Interactions and Asian Integration, (eds) Marc Frey and Nicola Spakowski (Singapore: NUS Press, 2015), pp. 49–73.

33 See C. Aydin, ‘Pan-Nationalism of Pan-Islamic, Pan-Asian, and Pan-African Thought’, in The Oxford Handbook of the History of Nationalism, (ed.) John Breuilly (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), pp. 672–693; S. Esenbel, Japan, Turkey and the World of Islam: The Writings of Selcuk Esenbel (Folkestone: Global Oriental, 2011).

34 Siddiqui, ‘Coupled Internationalisms’.

35 F. Devji, ‘Islam and British Imperial Thought’, in Islam and the European Empires, (ed.) Motadel, pp. 256–270.

36 Siddiqui, ‘Coupled Internationalisms’.

37 Addie W. Hunton, ‘The Cosmopolitan Society of Greater New York’, The Voice of the Negro, vol. 4, no. 4, May 1907, pp. 185–186. The Society was established by the influential suffragist Mary White Ovington and included African American leaders like Owen M. Waller. Both Ovington and Waller would later go on to form the African American civil rights organization, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, in 1909.

38 Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 316.

39 The understandable focus on Barkatullah's revolutionary activities in the historiography is partly what obscures the ‘world religioning’ intersections between him and Dharmapala. Unlike Dharmapala, who shied away from directly challenging British sovereignty, Barkatullah went from being committed to imperial reform to becoming an anticolonial revolutionary and a significant figure in what Tim Harper calls the ‘underground Asia’ of global, anticolonial revolutionaries. See T. Harper, Underground Asia: Global Revolutionaries and the Assault on Empire (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 2021).

40 It is also important to note that although Japanese Buddhist involvement in world religion conferences around the world has been noted and discussed, particularly by those studying the history of Japanese religions, more attention is required to uncover the role Japan played in facilitating conversations between various religious traditions from the 1890s into the interwar period. For an example of recent work that does this, see Okamoto Yoshiko, ‘An Asian Religion Conference Imagined: Okakura Kakuzo, Oda Tokuno, Swami Vivekananda and Unwoven Religious Ties in Early Twentieth-Century Asia’, Japanese Religions, vol. 41, nos. 1 and 2, Spring and Fall 2016, pp. 1–24.

41 While Dharmapala is well-known for his performance at the World Parliament of Religion in Chicago in 1893, Barkatullah also participated in a similar, if less heralded, conference entitled the Fourth International Congress of Religious Liberals held in Boston in 1907. It is important to note that a significant number of Theosophists were present at both of these conferences.

42 Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religion: Or, How European Universalism was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism.

43 Gottschalk, Religion, Science and Empire, p. 30.

44 Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religion, p. 264.

45 Here I am referring to David Chidester's argument about seeing religions in colonized regions of the world as ‘cocreations’ which emerged through a process of ‘triple mediation’ (imperial, colonial, and the indigenous). See D. Chidester, Empire of Religion: Imperialism and Comparative Religion (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 2011).

46 Blackburn, Locations of Buddhism.

47 For more on W. W. Hunter and Islam, see I. M. Fuerst, Indian Muslim Minorities and the 1857: Religion, Rebels, and Jihad (London: I. B. Tauris, 2017). For more on Renan's views on Islam, see Aydin, Politics of Anti-Westernism in Asia, pp. 47–51. For an exploration of Euro-American theories regarding the nature and ‘world religion’ status of Buddhism and Islam, respectively, see Masuzawa, The Invention of World Religion, Chapters 4 and 6.

48 For an exploration of the circulation of theories about Aryanism within the British empire, see T. Ballantyne, Orientalism and Race: Aryanism in the British Empire (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002).

49 See M. Barkatullah, ‘The Mecca Pilgrimage’, Indian Magazine and Review, no. 256, April 1892, pp. 185–187; M. Barkatullah, ‘Islam and Democracy’, Arena, vol. 30, no. 3, September 1903, pp. 256–267.

50 Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 119.

51 A. Dharmapala, ‘Memories of an Interpreter of Buddhism to the Present-Day World’, in Return to Righteousness: A Collection of Speeches, Essays and Letters of the Anagarika Dharmapala, (ed.) Ananda Guruge (Colombo: The Government Press, 1964), p. 688.

52 Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 287.

53 Blackburn, Locations of Buddhism, p. 176.

54 As I have already mentioned, Barkatullah's position vis-à-vis British colonial rule changed in the years prior to the First World War.

55 Ramnath, Haj to Utopia, p. 11; A. C. Bose, Indian Revolutionaries Abroad, 1905–1927: Select Documents (New Delhi: Northern Book Centre, 2002), p. 111.

56 Interestingly, Quilliam and the LMI had a global following and their journals had subscribers and advertisers from the Malay Muslim community in Ceylon as well. Leaders from the Malay Muslim community would also send in reports about British treatment of Muslims in Ceylon, which were published in the LMI's Crescent journal. Moreover, Hasan Hatano Uho, Barkatullah's colleague and protégé in Tokyo, seems to have betrayed Barkatullah and passed information to the British authorities in Japan. One of the several pieces of information he gave up was a long list of names and addresses of people in India and around the world to whom Barkatullah was connected. This included several prominent Malay Muslims in Colombo and elsewhere on the island. To clarify, this does not necessarily mean that any of the people mentioned were involved in Barkatullah and Ghadar's secret, anti-British activities. See ‘Government of India, Home Department, Political—A, Proceedings, August 1914, nos. 7–17’, National Archives of India, p. 22.

57 For more on Quilliam, the LMI, and Barkatullah's activities in Liverpool, see R. Geaves, Islam in Victorian Britain: The Life and Times of Abdullah Quilliam (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).

58 Barkatullah interacted with Japanese intellectuals and political figures primarily through the Ajia Gikai (or ‘Asian Congress’). According to Ulrich Brandenburg, the purpose of the organization was to connect Muslims and Muslim societies with Japanese pan-Asianists, and Barkatullah was involved in the establishment of Ajia Gikai in 1909. Aside from Japanese pan-Asianists, Barkatullah was also connected to the Indian merchant community in Yokohama and Kobe, in particular. See Brandenburg, ‘An Inventory of the First Muslim Journal in Japan’. Moreover, Barkatullah also makes an interesting, albeit brief, appearance in the memoirs of Kathleen Tamagawa (1893–1979), an Asian American woman who was the child of a Japanese father and an Anglo-Irish mother. After moving to Japan, she recalls meeting Barkatullah around 1912 at a cosmopolitan space she calls ‘The Ethnic Center in Tokyo’ which is described in her memoirs as being ‘presided over by one of the finest non-partisan philosophers’ and ‘was well attended by every type of religionist. There were Buddhists, Christians, [Mohammedans], Hindus, Jews, Zoroastrians and many others, including Atheists and followers of Comte, Nietzsche, Swedenborg and the various other Germans.’ K. Tamagawa, in Holy Prayers in a Horse's Ear: A Japanese American Memoir, (eds) Greg Robinson and Elena Tajima Creef (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 2008), p. 71. Interestingly, Barkatullah was also connected to leading figures in the Bahai movement which has been unexplored outside of Brandenburg, ‘An Inventory of the First Muslim Journal in Japan’. It is important to note that there is also evidence of Dharmapala being in direct conversation with Bahai intellectuals when he took part in several gatherings at the Green Acre retreat in Maine in the United States. Greenacre was established by Sarah Farmer and the community included Hindus, liberal Christians, Theosophists, Unitarians, Buddhists, figures from the New Thought movement, Sufis, and Bahais like Mirza Abu'l Fadl, whom Dharmapala met at Green Acre in 1901. See Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 104. For more on Dharmapala's time in Green Acre, see L. E. Schmidt, Restless Souls: The Making of American Spirituality, 2nd edn (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2012), pp. 165–178.

59 Muhammad Barkatullah, ‘The Japanese Latitudinarianism’, The Islamic Fraternity, vol. 1, no. 7, October 1910, p. 2. Interestingly, although Barkatullah argued that the official religion of Japan was Shintō and even described this arrangement with the common Euro-American term and concept ‘State Shintō’, he did not see it as repressive, retrograde, or even uniquely Japanese. Departing from State Shintō's Western critics, Barkatullah saw it as being compatible with what he saw as Japan's liberal religious landscape and structurally comparable to the relationship between the British monarch and the Church of England. For a detailed discussion on the history and utility of the term ‘State Shintō’, see Thomas, Faking Liberties.

60 The idea of Japan having a ‘syncretic’ religious landscape—in which Shintō, Confucianism, and Buddhism were seen to be ‘amalgamated’—was being argued by Euro-American Japanologists like William Elliot Griffis and George W. Knox, as well as Japanese intellectuals, bureaucrats, and scholars of religion, in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Barkatullah was clearly aware of these arguments.

61 Muhammad Barkatullah, ‘Do the Indian Muslims Need a University?’, The Islamic Fraternity, vol. 1, no. 8, November 1910, pp. 2–3.

62 This metaphor, as it relates to Barkatullah in particular, is partly inspired by Barkatullah's own words regarding the history of ‘Islamic civilization’ and India. Barkatullah argues that the Abbasid caliphate brought in knowledge from Ancient Greece and India and, thereby, ‘the two streams of the Eastern and Western philosophies found a confluence on the bank of the Tigris’. Barkatullah goes onto argue that, in India, Muslim conquests brought Islamic civilization into direct contact with Brahmanical and Theosophic knowledge, in part through the study of Sanskrit texts. Thus, ‘the Orient and the Occident kissed each other in [medieval]’ times. See M. Barkatullah, ‘Sufeeism: Part I’, Mind, vol. 12, no. 7, October 1903, pp. 484–485.

63 M. Barkatullah, ‘The British Invasion of Tibet: In Defence of the Dalai Lama’, Forum, vol. 37, no. 1, July 1905, p. 136.

64 As the president of the Hindustani Progressive Association (HPA), Barkatullah also signed a letter written by the HPA for the Japanese foreign minister Komura Jutarō to congratulate the Japanese delegation on the signing of the Treaty of Portsmouth in the United States, which formally ended the Russo-Japanese War. The letter also praised the Japanese emperor, as it was through ‘his majesty's goodness of heart [that] Buddhism triumph's over Christianity, and through his majesty's wisdom the Orient has become secure in the future from perennial wanton incursions of the free-booters of the West, the wagging of the evil tongues and the murmuring of evil minds notwithstanding’. See ‘Witte and Komura Sick’, New York Tribune, 11 September 1905, p. 1.

65 Unlike Dharmapala's voluminous diaries, which have been explored by the likes of Anne Blackburn, Michael Roberts, and Steven Kemper, we do not know if Barkatullah kept a diary. His archive is, therefore, far more scattered than Dharmapala's and we do not have the same level of insight into his private thoughts.

66 As Kemper has argued, this was an argument Dharmapala ‘seems not to have heard before’ he encountered it in Calcutta through Indian Theosophists. This proved convenient for him in trying to garner help from elite Bengali Hindus and Theosophists for his Bodh Gaya project. See Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 287.

67 A. Dharmapala, ‘Who Destroyed Buddhism in India?’, Maha Bodhi and the United Buddhist World, vol. 1, no. 1, June 1892, p. 11. As Audrey Truschke points out in her excellent article, a historical puzzle historians struggle to fully explain to this day is why Buddhism seemingly vanished from India from around the thirteenth century. While there are several theories about the reasons for the ‘destruction of Buddhism’ in India, British translations and interpretations of Persian chronicles demonstrating the supposed destruction of Buddhist centres of worship like Nalanda by Muslim invaders have remained central in much of the scholarship. Truschke argues that, instead of framing the question as ‘What happened to Buddhism?', we should ask: ‘What happened to the Buddhists?'. Therefore, rather than think about this question through the abstract category of ‘Indian Buddhism’, it would be more productive to think about what happened to particular Buddhist communities. Moreover, her work also illustrates, as others like Richard Eaton and Manan Ahmed Asif have done, how historians should be wary of using British interpretations of Persian chronicles uncritically. Instead, Truschke incorporates Tibetan and Chinese Buddhist chronicles to help give a broader source base towards understanding what may have happened. In doing so, the simplistic story often told of iconoclastic Muslim invaders destroying Buddhist temples and, eventually, ‘Indian Buddhism’ does not hold up to historical scrutiny. Audrey Truschke, ‘The Power of the Islamic Sword in Narrating the Death of Indian Buddhism’, History of Religions, vol. 57, no. 4, May 2018, pp. 406–435; Asif, M. Ahmed, The Loss of Hindustan: The Invention of India (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2020)CrossRefGoogle Scholar and Asif, M. Ahmed, The Book of Conquest: Chachnama and the Muslim Origins in South Asia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016)CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Eaton, Richard, ‘Temple Desecration and Indo-Muslim States’, Journal of Islamic Studies, vol. 11, no. 3, September 2000, pp. 283319Google Scholar. For an alternative perspective on the Muslim–Buddhist historical relationship, see Elverskog, Johan, Buddhism and Islam on the Silk Road (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010)CrossRefGoogle Scholar. In this monograph, Johan Elverskog challenges the commonly held belief that Islam and Buddhism have an inherently antagonistic relationship. He not only highlights Buddhist-Muslim alliances, he also points out that Buddhism survived in India until the seventeenth century. Although the Buddhistic narrative that the introduction of Muslim rule heralded the end of Buddhism in India goes back almost a century, in the nineteenth-century reformulation of modern Buddhism, Orientalist notions about Islam being a ‘fanatical’ religion that spread ‘through the sword’ became pervasive.

68 Dharmapala, A., ‘Christianity and Science’, Maha Bodhi and the United Buddhist World, vol. 16, no. 8, August 1908, p. 129Google Scholar.

69 It is interesting here to note Ōkawa Shūmei's views on Islam and the ‘West’. Ōkawa was an Islamophilic Japanese pan-Asianist ideologue who was connected to both Dharmapala and Barkatullah. While he thought Islam was ‘Asian’ and Japan should align with their Muslim brethren to combat Western imperialism, he argued in 1942 that the foundations of ‘Islamic culture’ were developed in relation to Hellenistic and Persianate cultures due to the early Muslim conquests of the crumbling Byzantine and Persian empires. They developed a ‘Saracen’ culture through mixed marriages and the integration of Greek, Roman, and Persian cultures. He argued that, although Islam was often argued to be an ‘Oriental’ religion, it was, in many ways, ‘Western in nature’ and was much closer to ‘European culture’ than Indian or Chinese cultures, which were clearly Eastern. See Ōkawa Shūmei, Kaikyō Gairon (‘An Introduction to Islam’) (Chikuma Shobō, 2008), pp. 12–13. For more on Ōkawa, see Usuki, Akira, ‘A Japanese Asianist's View of Islam’, Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, vol. 28, no. 2, 2013, pp. 5984Google Scholar; Aydin, The Politics of Anti-Westernism in Asia; Yukiko Sumi Barnett, ‘India in Asia: Okawa Shumei's Pan-Asian Thought and His Idea of India in Early Twentieth-Century Japan’, Journal of the Oxford University History Society, vol. 1, 2004, pp. 1–23.

70 Dharmapala, A., ‘Christianity and Europe’, Maha Bodhi and the United Buddhist World, vol. 14, no. 3, March 1906, pp. 3942Google Scholar.

71 I would like to thank Professor Steven Kemper for sharing his document with Dharmapala's diary entries during his time in Japan, which I have used to reflect on Dharmapala's interactions with Barkatullah.

72 See Kemper, Rescued from the Nation, p. 190.

73 Wickramasinghe, N., Sri Lanka in the Modern Age: A History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), pp. 124125Google Scholar.

74 Rambukwella, The Politics and the Poetics of Authenticity, p. 54.

75 See Ali, Ameer, ‘Four Waves of Muslim-Phobia in Sri Lanka: c. 1880–2009’, Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs, vol. 35, no. 4, November 2005, 486502CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Nuhman, M. A., ‘Sinhala Buddhist Nationalism and Muslim Identity in Sri Lanka: One Hundred Years of Conflict and Coexistence’, in Buddhist Extremists and Muslim Minorities: Religious Conflict in Contemporary Sri Lanka, (ed.) Holt, John (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), pp. 1853CrossRefGoogle Scholar. For scholarship exploring the possible causes of the 1915 riots, see Tambiah, S. J., Levelling Crowds: Ethnonationalist Conflict and Collective Violence in South Asia (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996), pp. 3681CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Jayawardena, Kumari, ‘Economic and Political Factors in the 1915 Riots’, Journal of Asian Studies, vol. 29, no. 2, February 1970, pp. 223233CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

76 A. Dharmapala, Letter to the Secretary of State for Colonies on 15 June 1915, in Return to Righteousness, (ed.) Guruge, p. 540.

77 For clarity, I do not give this caveat to refute arguments about Dharmapala's role in creating the anti-Muslim atmosphere in this period.

78 Rambukwella, The Politics and the Poetics of Authenticity, p. 54.

79 Ibid., p. 52. For similar arguments regarding thinking about Dharmapala's universalism and particularism, see Roberts, ‘For Humanity’, pp. 1006–1032.

80 Perhaps this attitude was partly informed by Dharmapala's class status and commercial interests. As Rambukwella points out, segments of the Coast Moor community ‘had significant control of the island's internal and external trade and were in direct competition with an emergent Sinhala merchant class. Dharmapala's family had a strong trading-merchant basis and his views of Moors were potentially shaped by family concerns.’ See Rambukwella, The Politics and the Poetics of Authenticity, p. 65. The British inherited the term ‘Moors’ from the Portuguese—who used it to refer to Mauritanian Muslims—and applied it to a diverse array of Muslims in Ceylon, outside of the Malay Muslim community. The British divided the Moors into the Ceylon Moors and the Coast Moors. Ceylon Moors had a longer history on the island, while the latter were a ‘much smaller community’ who had come to Ceylon more recently ‘from the Coromandel Coast or South India as traders or labourers’. See Wickramasinghe, Sri Lanka in the Modern Age, p. 120. For more on the history of Muslims in Ceylon, see Dewaraja, L., The Muslims of Sri Lanka: One Thousand Years of Ethnic Harmony, 900–1915 (Colombo: Lanka Islamic Foundation, 1994)Google Scholar; McGilvray, Dennis, ‘Arabs, Moors and Muslims: Sri Lankan Muslim Ethnicity in Regional Perspective’, Contributions to Indian Sociology, vol. 32, no. 2, November 1998, pp. 433483CrossRefGoogle Scholar; and D. McGilvray, ‘Rethinking Muslim Identity in Sri Lanka’, in Buddhist Extremists and Muslim Minorities, (ed.) Holt, pp. 54–57; Ameer Ali, ‘The Genesis of the Muslim Community in Ceylon (Sri Lanka): A Historical Summary’, Asian Studies Association of Australia Review, vol. 19, 1981, pp. 65–82.

81 Barkatullah's writings about Buddhism should also be viewed in the context of him forging connections with Japanese pan-Asian Buddhists.

82 See Adas, Michael, ‘Contested Hegemony: The Great War and the Afro-Asian Assault on the Civilizing Mission Ideology’, Journal of World History, vol. 15, no. 1, March 2004, pp. 3163CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Berman, Nathaniel, ‘“The Sacred Conspiracy”: Religion, Nationalism, and the Crisis of Internationalism’, Leiden Journal of International Law, vol. 25, no. 1, March 2012, pp. 954CrossRefGoogle Scholar.

83 Berman, ‘“The Sacred Conspiracy”’.