Latest / The Chola Empire: How South India Dominated the Indian Ocean — Fexingo History / Chola Empire and the Bhakti Movement: Tevaram Hymns
Transcript
- Lucas: You know, when we think of the Cholas, we often go straight to the bronze Nataraja or the towering gopurams. But there's another legacy that still rings out today — literally. I'm talking about the Bhakti hymns, the Tevaram. Luna: Oh, you mean the songs they still sing in temples? I've heard them — they're hauntingly beautiful. Lucas: Exactly. And you know, that's one reason we're able to bring you this show without ads — because listeners who care about these deep traditions support us at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. It keeps the conversation ad-free and focused on the history itself. Luna: Makes sense — no commercial breaks while we're talking about sacred music. Lucas: Right. So the Tevaram is a collection of devotional poems to Shiva, composed by three Nayanars — Appar, Sambandhar, and Sundarar — between the 7th and 9th centuries. That's before the Cholas really hit their stride, but it's the Cholas who turn this regional poetry into a state-sponsored scripture. Luna: Wait — these were wandering poets, right? How did the Chola kings get involved? Lucas: That's the fascinating part. Under the Pallavas, these saints had already gained a following. But when the Cholas came to power, especially Rajaraja I at the turn of the 11th century, they saw the political value in connecting themselves directly to the Bhakti movement. Rajaraja ordered a systematic compilation of the Tevaram hymns into what became the Tirumurai — a canon of twelve books. The first seven books are the Tevaram. Luna: So he basically commissioned a devotional anthology? Lucas: More than that. He installed the hymns as part of the daily ritual at the Brihadeeswarar Temple. There were specially appointed singers — the oduvars — whose job was to chant these verses during worship. And this became a model for Chola temples across the empire. Luna: I imagine that also helped standardize the liturgy and tie the temples directly to the king. Lucas: Exactly. But it wasn't just Shaivism. The Cholas also patronized the Vaishnava Alvars. Their hymns, the Nalayira Divya Prabandham — that's 'Four Thousand Divine Hymns' — were also performed in Vishnu temples. And the Chola court actually supported the compilation of that canon too, under the direction of the Acharyas. Luna: So they were backing both major sects? That must have been a careful balancing act. Lucas: It was. The Cholas themselves were predominantly Shaivite — Rajaraja and his son Rajendra built massive Shiva temples. But they knew the Vaishnava tradition had deep roots in the Tamil country, especially in places like Srirangam. So they extended royal patronage to both, probably to maintain social harmony and consolidate their authority over all Hindu communities. Luna: And I've read that these hymns were composed in Tamil, not Sanskrit. That must have made them accessible to ordinary people. Lucas: Absolutely. That's the revolutionary aspect. The Bhakti poets deliberately used the vernacular — living Tamil, with its emotions and rhythms — so that anyone could sing along. It democratized religious experience in a way that the Sanskritic tradition, dominated by Brahmins, didn't always allow. And the Chola state, by enshrining these Tamil hymns in their grand temples, essentially endorsed that popular movement. Luna: So it was a kind of top-down sponsorship of a bottom-up spirituality. Lucas: Precisely. And it had lasting power. Even after the Chola Empire fell, the Tevaram and the Divya Prabandham remained central to South Indian temple worship. The oduvar tradition continues unbroken to this day. So when you hear those hymns in a temple in Tamil Nadu, you're hearing the same verses that echoed through Rajaraja's Brihadeeswarar a thousand years ago. Luna: That's incredible — a living connection to the Chola period. Lucas: It really is. And it shows that the Chola legacy isn't just about stone and bronze. It's about a sound, a devotion, and a way of bringing people together under the umbrella of a powerful state. That's the kind of history that still breathes. Luna: Thanks for bringing that to light. I'll never listen to a Tevaram hymn the same way again.