Sankardeva and Tagore: A cultural dialogue

Rabindranath Tagore and Srimanta Sankardeva stand as two of the greatest cultural figures in the history of the Indian subcontinent, separated by nearly four centuries yet united in their use of art,
Sankardeva and Tagore
Published on

Gautam Sarmah 

(gautamsarmah8@gmail.com)

Rabindranath Tagore and Srimanta Sankardeva stand as two of the greatest cultural figures in the history of the Indian subcontinent, separated by nearly four centuries yet united in their use of art, philosophy and social engagement as tools for transformation. Tagore, born in 1861 in Bengal during the late colonial period, was a poet, novelist, playwright, musician, painter and educationist whose works travelled far beyond India’s borders, earning him the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1913. Sankardeva, born in 1449 in the small village of Alipukhuri in the present-day Nagaon district of Assam, was a saint, poet, dramatist, painter, musician and social reformer who initiated the Neo-Vaishnavite movement in Assam, giving birth to a cultural renaissance that continues to shape Assamese identity. Despite their different times and contexts, both figures recognised that art and culture could not be confined to individual aesthetic pleasure alone but had to be woven into the moral and social fabric of the people.

Sankardeva worked in an Assam that was politically fragmented and socially divided along lines of caste, ethnicity and religion. The Ahoms ruled much of the region, but many smaller kingdoms and tribal polities retained their autonomy. Religious orthodoxy reinforced hierarchies, and ritual purity determined one’s place in the social order. Into this environment Sankardeva introduced Eka Sarana Nama Dharma, a devotional faith centred on absolute surrender to one God, Krishna, expressed through prayer, song, drama and community worship. His Namghar became both a religious and social space where Brahmins, artisans, farmers and tribal people could sit together without the barriers of untouchability. Tagore, by contrast, was born into the elite Brahmo Samaj milieu of Bengal, a movement already influenced by reformist ideas and a rejection of idolatry. However, he carved his own intellectual and creative path, blending Indian spiritual traditions with global humanist thought, refusing to confine himself to narrow nationalism or sectarianism.

The artistic expression of both men was deeply tied to their philosophies. Sankardeva composed Borgeets of profound devotional beauty, the Kirtana-ghosha that encapsulated his theological message and the Ankiya Naat, one-act plays performed in open spaces so that they could be accessible to all. He adapted stories from Sanskrit texts like the Bhagavata Purana but localised them in language, imagery and performance style so that even illiterate villagers could relate to the narratives. Tagore’s artistry, though shaped by an entirely different historical context, functioned in a similar integrative way. His Rabindra Sangeet distilled complex emotions into melodies accessible to ordinary people, while his novels and plays challenged social prejudice, caste discrimination and blind adherence to custom. Works like Chandalika, Muktadhara and The Post Office were not simply artistic achievements but interventions in the moral consciousness of society.

Their approaches to spirituality reflect both convergence and divergence. Sankardeva’s vision was grounded in the Bhakti tradition, with an unambiguous theological focus on Krishna as the sole object of devotion. His egalitarianism operated within that devotional framework, meaning that while people of all castes and ethnicities could participate, the unifying principle was still a particular form of Vaishnavism. Tagore, influenced by the Upanishads, Vaishnava poetry and his own introspection, articulated a more universalist spiritual philosophy. He saw God as the eternal presence within all beings and in the natural world, transcending any single religious identity. This allowed him to engage with diverse traditions and to criticise narrow religious nationalism, advocating instead for a spiritual humanism that embraced the entire world as a single family.

In terms of social reform, both men understood that preaching alone was insufficient to break entrenched divisions. Sankardeva’s genius lay in embedding equality in the very structure of community life. The Namghar was not merely a religious hall; it was a democratic forum where community decisions could be made, cultural events performed and collective responsibilities discussed. Art was not a separate sphere but part of daily life, shared by all. Tagore approached reform through education and rural reconstruction. His founding of Shantiniketan, later Visva-Bharati University, embodied his belief that learning must be holistic, rooted in one’s own culture yet open to the world, and that aesthetic development was as important as intellectual growth. Through his Sriniketan project, he sought to revitalise rural Bengal economically, socially and culturally, believing that true freedom required the empowerment of villages. Both men’s educational contributions reflected their core philosophies. Sankardeva’s satras functioned as centres for religious teaching, cultural training and moral guidance, transmitting not only knowledge of scripture but also music, drama, dance and painting. These institutions preserved and spread the Xatriya tradition, which is now recognised as a classical dance form of India. Tagore’s educational vision deliberately broke away from rote learning and rigid discipline, fostering an environment where students learnt under the open sky, interacted with nature, engaged with the arts and developed critical thinking. For him, education was not preparation for life; it was life itself, an ongoing process of growth and creative expression.

Despite their monumental achievements, both figures had limitations. Critics of Tagore have argued that his universalism sometimes lacked grounding in the harsh realities of political struggle and that aspects of his thought were more accessible to the educated elite than to the rural poor. His occasional condescending remarks about regional cultures, including Assamese, have been noted in historical accounts, showing that even great visionaries are products of their contexts. Sankardeva’s inclusivity, radical in its time, nonetheless remained anchored in a specific religious doctrine, which may not have fully embraced those whose spiritual identities lay entirely outside the Vaishnavite fold. Moreover, over centuries, some of his institutions risked becoming rigid and ritual-bound, losing the reformist vitality that he had infused into them. Yet, the resilience of their legacies is remarkable. In Assam, the Namghar and Xattriya traditions continue to foster community cohesion and cultural pride, adapting to changing times while retaining their original inclusive spirit. In Bengal and beyond, Tagore’s songs, plays and educational ideals remain vibrant, inspiring debates on the role of art and education in a humane society. Both demonstrate that cultural creativity, when intertwined with ethical vision, can survive political upheavals and social transformations, offering continuity amid change.

In today’s fractured world, where identity politics often pits communities against each other, the relevance of both Tagore and Sankardeva is undeniable. Sankardeva’s model shows how deeply rooted local traditions can serve as a basis for unity without erasing diversity. Tagore’s vision warns against the dangers of insularity, urging an embrace of global humanity while nurturing one’s own cultural soil. Together, they represent two complementary approaches: one beginning from a strong regional-cultural centre and radiating outward, the other starting from a universalist ethos and embracing local richness within it. Ultimately, the comparison between Rabindranath Tagore and Srimanta Sankardeva reveals not just their differences in time, place and method, but their shared conviction that art, spirituality and community life are inseparable. They remind us that unity is not born of uniformity but of a shared commitment to values that transcend immediate self-interest. Whether in the open courtyard of a 16th-century Assamese Namghar or under the trees of early 20th-century Shantiniketan, the songs they inspired still call people to gather, to listen, to reflect and to imagine a better, more harmonious society.

Top News

No stories found.
The Sentinel - of this Land, for its People
www.sentinelassam.com