The controversy over Carnatic musicians O S Arun, Nithyasree Mahadevan, Aruna Sairam and others performing at Christian events or releasing Christian-themed albums has now officially expanded beyond the community of musicians and its patrons.

Musician T M Krishna released a statement signed by 175 activists, almost all well known for their far-left political views, against “harassment and intimidation” of musicians and opposition to what he claims is the creation of a “modern syncretic tradition in Indian classical music”.

The most recent debate, however, has focused only on red herrings such as plagiarism, online abuse, and artists’ freedom of expression. And while issues related to cultural appropriation were raised, the discussions have lacked nuance and ended up portraying protestors as simply hate-mongers. The concerns of many rasikas of Carnatic music, including this writer, remain unarticulated.

As far as it can be seen, none of the Christian songs in question simply replace Jesus for Rama or Krishna. That would indeed be absurd and objectionable. So, mere plagiarism isn’t the real issue here. If anything, even many modern Hindu devotional songs are based entirely on older tunes. The misplaced focus on plagiarism allowed Krishna to hint at plagiarism on the part of saint Tyagaraja himself, based ridiculously on specific words that existed in older compositions, such as descriptive phrases used for deities or philosophic terminology. He also cited the use of well recognised Carnatic music concepts such as varnamettu (standardised melodies for ragas used for composing songs) as possible examples of ‘plagiarism’.

The Carnatic artists in question are generally devout Hindus and hardworking professionals. Abuse directed at them is unfair and only weakens the case many Carnatic rasikas seek to make. Neither can these artistes be denied the right to direct their musical talents in a direction of their choosing. One reason for angst among a section of rasikas is that more so than Hindustani music, Carnatic is heavily oriented towards bhakti and lyrical content, and the art form is dominated by saints like Purandaradasa, Tyagaraja, Annamacharya, Muthuswami Dikshitar etc. The music and the musicians are seen in effect as torch bearers of Hindu bhakti.

This is, perhaps, an unfair burden to place on musicians, but I suspect many of them recognise this sentiment among a plurality, likely a majority, of the niche audience for their music. If Carnatic music is to be seen as much Christian as Hindu, and that’s a big if, it requires a major cultural change. There are certainly no grounds to abuse musicians, but at the same time, “in your face” pronouncements to sing a new song on Jesus or Allah every month are not exactly the best way to win hearts and minds. Many musicians have been singing non-religious songs in movies for years now. And much as Christian-born music maestro K J Yesudas sings songs in praise of Hindu deities, others, including Krishna himself, have often included songs composed by eighteenth and nineteenth century Christians such as Vedanayagam Sastriyar or Abraham Pandithar without protest.

The upsurge of protests this time was, perhaps, likely driven by the growing awareness in recent years of institutional, missionary Christianity’s appropriation of Hindu concepts and contributions - including the classical art forms Bharatanatyam and Carnatic music. The spectacle of Hindu musicians seeming to collaborate in such efforts is really the key issue here. Appropriation is a term that should be understood carefully and in a limited sense. The Oxford Dictionary, which added the phrase “cultural appropriation” only last year, defines it as “the unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas, etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society.” In a globalised world, where there are no more pure cultures left, this definition can still be vague. Any expectation not to use products and ideas of other cultures would make daily life virtually impossible or unrecognisable. The key consideration therefore, in my view, is intent and mutual respect on the part of the borrower.

T M Krishna points out that Muthuswamy Dikshitar of the Carnatic trinity of composers famously composed songs in praise of Hindu gods based on Celtic/Scot band music played in the British cantonment near Dikshitar’s residence. While this is cultural borrowing or intermingling, it is not appropriation because Dikshitar was never a part of an organised effort to denigrate the cultures from which these melodies emerged. Neither did Dikshitar seek to convert Celtics to Hinduism and nor does any other Hindu who may play these songs. Such respectful interchange, which also forms the basis of fusion music, ought to be welcome and encouraged. On the contrary, missionary denigration of Hinduism and Hindu gods, who are the subject of Carnatic songs, and attempts at proselytisation of Hindus have a long history.

Rakesh Vaidyanathan, a friend and management consultant in the US, suggested as an analogy, the American tradition of jazz music or hip hop. They have deep roots in Black American culture and history, including their struggles against racism. Much as Carnatic music is used in cinema, these have emerged as major art forms, including a European jazz genre. But how would people react if sympathisers of the confederacy or Ku Klux Klan (KK) in the US or of Nazis in Europe were to use jazz or hip hop as the medium to propagate their message, under the cover of an artist’s freedom of expression. And what if black American musicians aided the KKK in this process? The point here is not to equate Christianity with the KKK. It is simply to point out malintent and the lack of mutual respect on the part of the borrower, whose primary ideologies can be hurtful to the tradition that is the source of the art form.