No one talks any more about Auroville, the global experiment in human evolution that started in 1968 near Pondicherry. What if they’re exactly what the world needs right now?
Auroville came into being in a post-colonial world tired of hypocrisy, militarism, politics and materialism. Representation pic
I once visited utopia, in the 1970s. It looked like nothing you’d imagine. Twenty or so square kilometres of scorchingly hot, barren moonscape about 100 kms south of Chennai, near what was then Pondicherry. The earth was parched and red from oxide; nothing grew— except, I realised quickly, the hopes and dreams of those who had come from far countries to live here.
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It was impossible for a young man in his 20s not to be swept away by what was unfolding there. I visited there on my own dime repeatedly, wanting to be on the sidelines of this extraordinary experiment in human evolution.
The city was called Auroville, after Sri Aurobindo Ghosh, the seer whose revolutionary thoughts had inspired it. It was in India but not Indian; it was a place where people of all creeds, nationalities were to conduct an epic experiment to reach the next stage of human evolution. It was to be a demonstration project of how humans could live together in peace and harmony, responding to a higher divinity. It was the world John Lennon described when he sang Imagine, beyond politics, class, materialism, greed and chaos.
My first visit there was thrilling. The Aurovillians I met were building a futuristic frontier world with wall-less houses they had built with their own hands. Private property was banned; no one could own anything. Money was disparaged as the root of all evil and drugs were banned. Everyone was supposed to follow a “divine purpose”—but following a specific religion was discouraged.
It was a vibrant place. Someone was teaching Taichi; someone else was finding ways to harness solar power to electrify their hut. The community had many Indians but I met French, Italian, German, Scandinavian, American and other nationalities. Discussions were loud, controversial, electrifying. Everyone had something to say and everyone was open to being challenged. Amity ruled the day.
I visited Auroville, on and off, over 10 years, making many friends. But now over 30 years have passed. I woke up this morning with questions—whatever became of those humans who went there to evolve to the next level of consciousness? Why do we never hear of Auroville or its solutions for better ways to live together?
Where is the crucible of higher consciousness in this blighted time when we need it most?
Although it was meant to be a city of about 50,000, there are only 3,000 souls in today’s Auroville. They are mostly white, and you could be forgiven for wondering if they’ve forgotten what they went there for. You might mistake it for a modern commune, with organic farming and its own cottage industries making soaps and incense. Some even nod towards ‘women’s empowerment’ by employing local Tamil women to produce handicrafts for export.
Auroville came into being in a post-colonial world tired of hypocrisy, militarism, politics and materialism. Hippies, communes, kibitzes and ashrams were á la mode but that’s not what Auroville wanted to be. It had a charter and a defined spiritual goal—but alas, back then it really did not have any rigorous screening of those who applied to be part of that experiment.
As a result, geniuses and artists came but also drifters and lost souls. Divisions started with people like those. Even in the years when I visited there, the Italians had their own enclave, as did the French. European animosities were imported along with the Europeans. And many of them had not expected that spiritual growth included cleaning your own toilets and ploughing your fields.
In response, the seekers who moved there did what colonisers have always done through time—they employed local labour for menial work and farming. After all, you can’t grow your spirit if your day goes in feeding your body.
We are a doomed species of a planet dying from our own depredations. Auroville could have been a petri dish from which ideas and ideals for more luminous living diffused into the planet, but Auroville instead became an island—and one no one talks about any more. By many accounts, Aurovillians feared that too much contact with the corrupt world they had left behind would sully them, kill their creativity and defeat their purpose. They became attached to their cleverness and ingenious solutions.
Remarkable experiments and innovations were born in Auroville, one of the newer ones being an app-based form of cash that depreciates by 9 per cent daily unless you spend it. The desert they were given is now an Eden. Where once a few cashews and bracken stood are lush forests and robust water management systems.
Whether or not Auroville is where the next big spiritual leap will happen, there is no doubt that it could be a game changer in a world being devastated by climate change. If only they would realise that they are not a new species of human but the one that needs to be saved.
Here, viewed from there. C Y Gopinath, in Bangkok, throws unique light and shadows on Mumbai, the city that raised him. You can reach him at cygopi@gmail.com
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The views expressed in this column are the individual’s and don’t represent those of the paper
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