This year's literary season opened with an entertaining spat between journalist and writer Hartosh Singh Bal and William Dalrymple, the public face of the Jaipur Literary Festival. It is closing with a row between the writers Pankaj Mishra and Patrick French over the latter's new book, India: A Portrait. Conducted in public, the discourse swiftly jettisoned the larger issues raised by Bal and Mishra and degenerated into a post-colonial slanging match. It's like watching a tournament in which sahibs in solar topees spar with querulous natives. And the excited spectators only want to know who's winning.
Rapid recap: Mishra trashed French's book as superficial and French hit back, accusing his critic of being a migratory champagne socialist, among other dreadful things. Earlier, Bal had accused Dalrymple of pretty much sneaking up on the Indian literary establishment and taking it hostage through a neocolonial plot known as the Jaipur Lit Fest. In response, Dalrymple screamed racism.
Shorn of the coruscating fireworks displays, the question these debates raise is: who can legitimately own Indian literature and steer the discourse on India? When perceptions of India's place in the world are changing rapidly, this is an important issue. Can Dalrymple - the Delhi farmhouse-dwelling, pyjama-clad sahib gone native - head up India's biggest literary festival? But, of course. Even if this Scotsman chooses to wear a kilt and sporran and plays the bagpipes, too.
It would be fine, if he was not projected as the heart and soul of the festival because at least a dozen other people, mostly Indians, have worked equally hard to build it. And if the festival was not projected internationally as the foremost forum of Indian literature, as it has been. Jaipur's uniqueness lies in its ability to attract talent from overseas. The festival accommodates indigenous literatures but they have been served better by other organisations, including dowdy State-funded agencies like the Sahitya Akademi.