The practice of Sati in India

The historical discourse on the practice of Sati in India has been significantly shaped by colonial narratives. While some sources suggest its prevalence, a critical examination of Sanskrit texts and historical records reveals that instances of widow immolation were neither widespread nor mandated by religious scriptures. The Rigveda, often cited in discussions of Sati, contains a funeral hymn that was mistranslated in 1795 by H.T. Colebrooke. This error was immediately corrected by William Jones, yet the misinterpretation persisted, influencing subsequent colonial policies and academic discourse.

The earliest recorded instance of Sati appears in Greek accounts of Alexander’s campaigns, describing a single case in the 4th century BCE. The next documented reference occurs eight centuries later, in the Eran inscription (5th century CE), highlighting the rarity of the practice. Furthermore, key Hindu epics, such as the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, do not depict widow immolation as a societal norm. While Queen Madri’s self-immolation in the Mahabharata is often cited, her act was motivated by personal guilt rather than societal compulsion. Additionally, collective acts of immolation, such as Jauhar, arose in response to external threats, particularly during periods of foreign invasions.

It’s hard to find any proof of Sati but very easy to find proof of witch burning in medieval Europe.
— Amish Tripathi

The colonial administration, particularly under Governor-General William Bentinck, framed the abolition of Sati as a civilisational reform, often ignoring counter-evidence from sources such as French Jesuit missionary Abbé Dubois, who observed that widowhood, rather than Sati, was the prevalent social condition. British missionary efforts leveraged the issue to justify interventionist policies, while simultaneously disregarding pressing humanitarian crises such as famine-induced mass starvation in Bengal.

Bāṇabhaṭṭa, the eminent court poet, vehemently critiqued the practice of Sati in his classical work Kādambarī. His opposition was echoed in the 10th century by Medhātithi, who dedicated an extensive philosophical discourse to condemning Sati within his commentary on the Manusmṛti. This stance was later reinforced by Virata, who explicitly proscribed the practice, drawing upon the arguments of Medhātithi, and by Aparārka in the 12th century, who equated Sati with the sin of suicide incurred by the widow.

These historical perspectives demonstrate that Hindu scholars and jurists had engaged in the critique and rejection of Sati for at least a millennium prior to the colonial construction of the Raja Ram Mohan Roy narrative, which positioned itself as the ostensible “saviour” of Hindu widows.

Manu S. Pillai’s analysis of sati presents a nuanced historical perspective that dismantles both colonial exaggerations and modern-day denialism. His account of Kerala’s resistance to the practice highlights how the region’s distinct socio-cultural fabric, particularly its matrilineal traditions, rendered widow-burning not just unnecessary but wholly alien. The case of the Travancore Rani refusing permission to Veeramma to self-immolate underscores that sati was neither a pan-Indian norm nor a universally revered tradition.

The colonial period saw sati become a spectacle in European travelogues, with accounts ranging from horror to morbid fascination. The abolitionist campaign, while morally justified, was often intertwined with missionary propaganda aimed at portraying Indian society as irredeemably barbaric. Wild estimates of sati cases—such as William Ward’s claim of 10,000 annually—served both to shock Western audiences and to justify interventionist policies. Yet, ironically, it was this very colonial scrutiny that galvanised Indian reformers, particularly in Bengal, to push for sati’s legal prohibition.

Pillai notes, the historical memory of sati continued to cast a shadow long after its legal abolition. While its statistical incidence was always low, its symbolic significance in shaping ideals of female virtue persisted. This may explain why, even in the late 20th century, cases like that of Roop Kanwar in 1987 still occurred, demonstrating how deeply entrenched notions of sacrifice and honour remained in certain quarters. Thus, sati, far from being a universal or immutable tradition, was a contested and regionally variable practice—one that was shaped by historical contingencies, social structures, and, later, colonial interventions.

Post-independence historical narratives have largely retained this colonial framing, often exaggerating the prevalence of Sati to align with ideological agendas. Contemporary scholarship, notably the works of Padma Shri Professor Meenakshi Jain, challenges these misconceptions, urging a more nuanced and evidence-based understanding of India's past.

The practice of Sati in India

Suggested Readings:

📢 Stay Informed. Stay Inspired.