Decolonizing Jain Studies, Part 2
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This is where power, privilege, and hegemony come into play. If an outsider to a culture occupies a subordinate place of power relative to the culture that is being interpreted, then there will likely be no harm. However, if a non-native interpreter of a culture distorts the presentation of that culture, there is the possibility that this distorted interpretation will displace the original, leading to cultural endangerment and perhaps even erasure.
Hegemony: Power & Privilege
It is a truism that scholars in the Western academy enjoy significant privilege of power with respect to South Asian cultures, including with respect to the Jain tradition. Academic scholars have a very strong voice when it comes to presenting these cultures, and given the threat of contributing to displacement, endangerment, and erasure, we, as scholars in the Western academy, must be very, very careful about how we use our voices. We must be careful not to violate the cultural sovereignty of South Asian traditions, and thereby commit an act of cultural violence, the type of violence that contributes to the regrettable and ongoing disappearance of South Asian traditions, languages, cultures, practices, etc.
Epistemic Frictions
Distorted presentation is not the sole cause of this phenomenon. Epistemic frictions between academic knowledge systems and traditional knowledge systems can also lead to the displacement and erasure of Jain and other South Asian traditions. For instance, Ayurvedic medicines have traditionally used hazardous heavy metals such as arsenic (hingula or haratāla), mercury (rasa), lead (nāga), gold (svarṇa), silver (rājata), and iron (loha), often in specially formulated forms. These substances are central to a branch of Ayurveda called Rasaśāstra (the “science of mercury”), which focuses on alchemy and mineral-based therapeutics. While modern science recognizes these substances as toxic, Rasaśāstra texts assert that proper purification (śodhana) and calcination (māraṇa) techniques detoxify them and transform them into safe, potent medicines. There is clearly an epistemic friction between modern science and these traditional practices which can lead to the abandoning of traditional practices that were believed to be helpful but may actually be harmful. These heavy metal-based medicines might be better replaced with modern medicines to achieve their intended effect of healing the body. It would be hard to consider this as “cultural violence.”
Something similar might be said about modern views of sexuality and gender, although traditional South Asian cultures—while not monolithic—have historically included nuanced, diverse, and in many cases, surprisingly progressive understandings of gender and sexuality, particularly when compared to many modern global norms shaped by Victorian, colonial, and Abrahamic religious moralities. These premodern conceptions were not necessarily egalitarian in every respect, but they frequently offered space for gender fluidity, non-heteronormative identities, and alternative kinship structures in ways that challenge the assumption of modern Western progressiveness. In many ways, we can see that some of the more oppressive approaches to gender and sexuality themselves may be involved in the influence of Western, even Victorian, attitudes, themselves representing a legacy of Western transgressions against South Asian cultural sovereignty. But if modern norms around sexuality and gender displace traditional practices that are oppressive, that may not necessarily be a bad thing.
Colonial Paternalism & the Western Savior
But who is to decide? Does that mean that if traditional practices such as vāstu (architecture and spatial design that aims to harmonize human dwellings with the forces of nature and cosmic order) or jyotiṣa (Indian astrology) do not correspond to the epistemological norms of modern science, they should be discarded? Should Westerners simply assess non-Western cultures and practices and, when they are found to not sufficiently correspond with Western epistemologies, seek to displace those traditional practices in the name of “progress”?
Paternalism, as a Western-imposed vision of “progress,” has historically served as both an ideological engine and moral justification for colonialism. Rooted in the belief that non-Western societies were backward, irrational, or childlike, paternalism framed colonial rule as a benevolent enterprise—one in which European powers claimed the duty to “civilize” indigenous populations through education, religion, and governance. This condescending narrative of upliftment masked the violent realities of imperial exploitation, allowing colonizers to rationalize domination, resource extraction, and cultural erasure as acts of moral responsibility. By conflating control with care, paternalism rendered resistance as ingratitude and cloaked empire in the language of humanitarianism. Westerners in general should not fall into this “Western savior” trap, and the danger is significantly greater for scholars in the Western academy.
Conclusion: Why Epistemology Matters
Does this mean that, as Western scholars, we should remain morally neutral when we encounter healing practices that may be harmful, or gender and sexual norms that are oppressive? I would argue that neutrality is not an ethically viable option. As the well-known adage goes, silence favors the oppressor, and in contexts of systemic harm, such silence becomes a form of complicity. Yet the question remains: where do we draw the line between ethical critique and epistemic overreach?
The answer, I believe, lies in cultivating a critical awareness of the strengths and limitations of modern academic epistemologies, particularly those grounded in empiricism. Certain truth claims—such as the harmful effects of heavy metals on the human body—can be tested and verified through empirical observation and scientific method. Social science research can likewise demonstrate the measurable benefits of gender equity and the real harms caused by systemic oppression. In such cases, the imperative to speak out and advocate for change is clear. But what about domains that do not conform to empiricist standards of verification—systems like vāstu, jyotiṣa, or traditional cosmologies? Should these be dismissed simply because they do not align with dominant Western paradigms of knowledge?
This is where the work of decolonization becomes not only ethical but epistemological. In what follows, I will explore how a posture of epistemological humility—paired with a commitment to justice—can help scholars navigate the complex terrain between cultural erasure and cultural harm. As Western-trained academics, we must learn to balance the moral obligation to resist violence and oppression with the equally important responsibility not to impose our methods or assumptions in ways that violate cultural sovereignty. To fail in either direction is to perpetuate harm, either through silent complicity or through epistemic domination.
Decolonizing Jain Studies, Part 2
Cultural Sovereignty, Epistemic Friction, and the Scholar’s Role
12/11/2025
Cultural Sovereignty
First, it is critical to recognize the critical importance of cultural sovereignty. If cultures are to survive, they, like countries, must have their sovereignty respected by outsiders. To continue the metaphor, non-citizens of a country cannot vote within that country precisely because it is not clear that non-citizens would have the best interests of that country impelling their votes. Outsiders could form the policies of a country based on their own foreign interests, interests which may likely be at odds with the interests of citizens of said country. One must be a citizen before one can represent the country, before one can actively construct the policies and polity of a country if that country is to survive and maintain its sovereignty. This is true for culture as well. If an outsider to a culture asserts a broad authoritative purview to interpret that culture, then there is the risk that this culture may be distorted in a way that not only doesn’t serve the interests of that culture but may actually erase that culture.
First, it is critical to recognize the critical importance of cultural sovereignty. If cultures are to survive, they, like countries, must have their sovereignty respected by outsiders. To continue the metaphor, non-citizens of a country cannot vote within that country precisely because it is not clear that non-citizens would have the best interests of that country impelling their votes. Outsiders could form the policies of a country based on their own foreign interests, interests which may likely be at odds with the interests of citizens of said country. One must be a citizen before one can represent the country, before one can actively construct the policies and polity of a country if that country is to survive and maintain its sovereignty. This is true for culture as well. If an outsider to a culture asserts a broad authoritative purview to interpret that culture, then there is the risk that this culture may be distorted in a way that not only doesn’t serve the interests of that culture but may actually erase that culture.
This is where power, privilege, and hegemony come into play. If an outsider to a culture occupies a subordinate place of power relative to the culture that is being interpreted, then there will likely be no harm. However, if a non-native interpreter of a culture distorts the presentation of that culture, there is the possibility that this distorted interpretation will displace the original, leading to cultural endangerment and perhaps even erasure.
Hegemony: Power & Privilege
It is a truism that scholars in the Western academy enjoy significant privilege of power with respect to South Asian cultures, including with respect to the Jain tradition. Academic scholars have a very strong voice when it comes to presenting these cultures, and given the threat of contributing to displacement, endangerment, and erasure, we, as scholars in the Western academy, must be very, very careful about how we use our voices. We must be careful not to violate the cultural sovereignty of South Asian traditions, and thereby commit an act of cultural violence, the type of violence that contributes to the regrettable and ongoing disappearance of South Asian traditions, languages, cultures, practices, etc.
It is true that the Jain community both in India and abroad enjoys a high degree of affluence and privilege for themselves. Nonetheless, due to the history of Western economic, cultural, and political imperialism, their traditions, like nearly all non-Western traditions, are in grave danger of being erased by the immense hegemony of the West. Responsible scholars in the field of South Asian Studies, including Jain Studies, must be aware of that, and ensure that the hegemony of their scholastic voices is used responsibly and does not distort or otherwise serve to erase Jain and other South Asian traditions.
Epistemic Frictions
Distorted presentation is not the sole cause of this phenomenon. Epistemic frictions between academic knowledge systems and traditional knowledge systems can also lead to the displacement and erasure of Jain and other South Asian traditions. For instance, Ayurvedic medicines have traditionally used hazardous heavy metals such as arsenic (hingula or haratāla), mercury (rasa), lead (nāga), gold (svarṇa), silver (rājata), and iron (loha), often in specially formulated forms. These substances are central to a branch of Ayurveda called Rasaśāstra (the “science of mercury”), which focuses on alchemy and mineral-based therapeutics. While modern science recognizes these substances as toxic, Rasaśāstra texts assert that proper purification (śodhana) and calcination (māraṇa) techniques detoxify them and transform them into safe, potent medicines. There is clearly an epistemic friction between modern science and these traditional practices which can lead to the abandoning of traditional practices that were believed to be helpful but may actually be harmful. These heavy metal-based medicines might be better replaced with modern medicines to achieve their intended effect of healing the body. It would be hard to consider this as “cultural violence.”
Something similar might be said about modern views of sexuality and gender, although traditional South Asian cultures—while not monolithic—have historically included nuanced, diverse, and in many cases, surprisingly progressive understandings of gender and sexuality, particularly when compared to many modern global norms shaped by Victorian, colonial, and Abrahamic religious moralities. These premodern conceptions were not necessarily egalitarian in every respect, but they frequently offered space for gender fluidity, non-heteronormative identities, and alternative kinship structures in ways that challenge the assumption of modern Western progressiveness. In many ways, we can see that some of the more oppressive approaches to gender and sexuality themselves may be involved in the influence of Western, even Victorian, attitudes, themselves representing a legacy of Western transgressions against South Asian cultural sovereignty. But if modern norms around sexuality and gender displace traditional practices that are oppressive, that may not necessarily be a bad thing.
Colonial Paternalism & the Western Savior
But who is to decide? Does that mean that if traditional practices such as vāstu (architecture and spatial design that aims to harmonize human dwellings with the forces of nature and cosmic order) or jyotiṣa (Indian astrology) do not correspond to the epistemological norms of modern science, they should be discarded? Should Westerners simply assess non-Western cultures and practices and, when they are found to not sufficiently correspond with Western epistemologies, seek to displace those traditional practices in the name of “progress”?
Paternalism, as a Western-imposed vision of “progress,” has historically served as both an ideological engine and moral justification for colonialism. Rooted in the belief that non-Western societies were backward, irrational, or childlike, paternalism framed colonial rule as a benevolent enterprise—one in which European powers claimed the duty to “civilize” indigenous populations through education, religion, and governance. This condescending narrative of upliftment masked the violent realities of imperial exploitation, allowing colonizers to rationalize domination, resource extraction, and cultural erasure as acts of moral responsibility. By conflating control with care, paternalism rendered resistance as ingratitude and cloaked empire in the language of humanitarianism. Westerners in general should not fall into this “Western savior” trap, and the danger is significantly greater for scholars in the Western academy.
Conclusion: Why Epistemology Matters
Does this mean that, as Western scholars, we should remain morally neutral when we encounter healing practices that may be harmful, or gender and sexual norms that are oppressive? I would argue that neutrality is not an ethically viable option. As the well-known adage goes, silence favors the oppressor, and in contexts of systemic harm, such silence becomes a form of complicity. Yet the question remains: where do we draw the line between ethical critique and epistemic overreach?
The answer, I believe, lies in cultivating a critical awareness of the strengths and limitations of modern academic epistemologies, particularly those grounded in empiricism. Certain truth claims—such as the harmful effects of heavy metals on the human body—can be tested and verified through empirical observation and scientific method. Social science research can likewise demonstrate the measurable benefits of gender equity and the real harms caused by systemic oppression. In such cases, the imperative to speak out and advocate for change is clear. But what about domains that do not conform to empiricist standards of verification—systems like vāstu, jyotiṣa, or traditional cosmologies? Should these be dismissed simply because they do not align with dominant Western paradigms of knowledge?
This is where the work of decolonization becomes not only ethical but epistemological. In what follows, I will explore how a posture of epistemological humility—paired with a commitment to justice—can help scholars navigate the complex terrain between cultural erasure and cultural harm. As Western-trained academics, we must learn to balance the moral obligation to resist violence and oppression with the equally important responsibility not to impose our methods or assumptions in ways that violate cultural sovereignty. To fail in either direction is to perpetuate harm, either through silent complicity or through epistemic domination.
If you are interested in learning more on this topic, consider the Master of Arts in Engaged Jain Studies—a fully-online graduate program offered by Claremont School of Theology (CST). Arihanta Institute faculty are engaged at CST as Adjunct Faculty members under an academic agreement, contributing their expertise and teaching courses within this concentration. Learn More.
Cogen Bohanec, MA, PhD holds the position of Assistant Professor in Sanskrit and Jain Studies at Arihanta Institute where he teaches various courses on Jain philosophy and its applications. He received his doctorate in Historical and Cultural Studies of Religion from the Graduate Theological Union (GTU) in Berkeley, California where his research emphasized comparative dharmic traditions and the philosophy of religion. He teaches several foundational self-paced, online courses based in Jain philosophy, yoga, ecology, languages, and interfaith peace-building, including: