Manu S. Pillai, the brilliant chronicler of India’s past, is a rare breed of historian — one who marries academic rigour with an unmistakable flair for storytelling. In Gods, Guns & Missionaries, Pillai turns his discerning gaze towards the intersections of colonialism, faith, and power, crafting a collection of essays as urgent as it is enlightening.
Across 15 essays, spanning centuries and continents, the author invites readers to reconsider how empires imposed control, how religion shaped identities, and how the subcontinent resisted and redefined itself. We find the book is, at once, a historical investigation and a reflection on the undercurrents that shape contemporary India.
Colonialism’s Double-Edged Sword
At the heart of Manu Pillai’s narrative lies a provocative question — Was religion merely a tool of empire, or did it serve as a battleground where the colonised subjects reclaimed agency?
In essays like Gods and Missionaries, Pillai examines how the British colonists viewed Christianity as a civilising mission. Yet, their efforts often backfired.
Take, for instance, his incisive account of Kerala’s Travancore kingdom, where missionaries clashed with local rulers over the soul of a region. Travancore’s resistance to colonial evangelism, Pillai argues, wasn’t merely a cultural assertion but a shrewd political strategy. The British, who sought to dismantle indigenous institutions, underestimated the complexity of their subjects’ faiths, and the resilience of those they sought to dominate.
Author Manu S. Pillai’s gift lies in making these moments alive with nuance. The narrative reveals not just the oppressiveness of the colonial machine but also the defiance of local populations who absorbed, subverted, or outright rejected imperial dogma.
Guns: Violence And The Machinery Of Power
The titular ‘guns’ in the book evoke a grim reminder of how brute force underpinned colonial authority. But Pillai goes further, drawing parallels between colonial coercion and the Indian State’s use of power post-Independence. His essay on the integration of princely states into the Union critiques the Nehruvian vision that sought unity even if it meant violent suppression.
In this essay, the Nawab of Hyderabad emerges not merely as a symbol of monarchy’s decline but as a victim of the larger story of political consolidation. Pillai subtly questions whether the violence of Independence betrayed its ideals — a question that continues to resonate in India’s fraught relationship with its federal structure.
By tethering the historical to the contemporary, Pillai reminds readers that the wielding of power, whether by the British or modern India, often mirrors the same structural violence.
Faith, Identity, And Subaltern Voices
What sets Gods, Guns & Missionaries apart is Pillai’s commitment to centring marginalised voices. Whether through stories of Dalit engagement with Christianity or accounts of tribal resistance, Pillai complicates the narrative of victimhood. His essays suggest that the subaltern is not just acted upon but acts, often with agency and cunning.
In one standout essay, he traces how Dalits in 19th-century Tamil Nadu turned to Christianity not as an act of submission, but as a reclamation of dignity denied by caste Hinduism. Conversion, Pillai argues, was both a spiritual act and a political one, a subversion of the hierarchy imposed by both local orthodoxy and colonial rule.
Manu Pillai’s handling of such delicate subjects — where religion intersects with oppression and liberation — is where his writing shines brightest. His empathy never veers into sentimentality, and his analysis never reduces these lives to historical footnotes.
The Fragility Of Modernity
While Pillai is best known for his deep dives into the past, Gods, Guns & Missionaries is connected to the present. His essays dissect how modern India has weaponised history for political ends, often distorting it to legitimise contemporary ideologies.
In his essay on Nehru, Pillai pulls no punches, arguing that the romanticisation of India’s first Prime Minister has obscured the contradictions of his governance. The Nehruvian ideal of secularism, Pillai contends, often glossed over the reality of a country deeply entrenched in faith-based divisions.
Elsewhere, he examines the rise of historical revisionism, where colonial-era conflicts are recast as simplistic binaries of good and evil. Such narratives, Pillai warns, rob history of its complexity and risk turning it into propaganda.
Style: Erudition Meets Wit
Manu S. Pillai is, at his core, a raconteur. His prose is a joy to read: erudite without being dense, witty without being flippant. In lesser hands, the histories of missionary incursions or princely-state politics might have felt like a slog, but Pillai’s writing breathes life into them.
Consider his sardonic take on the colonial ‘civilising mission’: “The British may have carried the Bible in one hand, but the other always hovered over the trigger.” Such observations pepper the text, adding levity without trivialising the gravity of the subject.
Pillai also excels in pacing, knowing when to linger on a detail, a forgotten diary entry, a letter brimming with imperial condescension, and when to zoom out to offer the larger picture.
A Few Missing Pieces
For all its brilliance, Gods, Guns & Missionaries occasionally leaves readers wanting more. Some essays, particularly those exploring Dalit conversions or tribal resistance, feel too brief, their subjects deserving of longer treatment.
Also, the collection’s structure, while thematically coherent, occasionally feels fragmented. A more explicit framework tying the essays together might have amplified its impact.
A Timely And Timeless Work
Gods, Guns & Missionaries is more than a history book — rather, it’s a mirror reflecting the anxieties of modern India. In Manu S. Pillai’s hands, history becomes a tool for understanding not just where we come from, but where we are headed.
At a time when debates around religion, identity, and nationalism dominate global discourse, this collection offers a powerful reminder of the perils of oversimplifying the past. By unravelling the tangled threads of faith, power, and resistance, Pillai ensures that readers leave his book not just more informed, but more attuned to the complexities of the world around them.
It speaks to Manu S. Pillai’s mastery of his craft that Gods, Guns & Missionaries feels both timely and timeless — a work that deserves a place not just on bookshelves, but in the heart of conversations about India’s future.
Book: Gods, Guns & Missionaries by Manu S. Pillai
Price: Rs 999
Publisher: Penguin
The writer is a Bengaluru-based management professional, curator, and literary critic
[Disclaimer: The opinions, beliefs, and views expressed by the various authors and forum participants on this website are personal and do not reflect the opinions, beliefs, and views of ABP News Network Pvt Ltd.]