1The relationship between politics and religion and the extent to which political institutions have been and remain infused with religious values, have long been a central subject of debate – not only among specialists of South Asia but also within the broader scope of human and social sciences. William Sax’s remarkable monograph, In the Valley of the Kauravas, makes a significant contribution to this ongoing conversation. Yet this book is more than a compelling voice in a longstanding academic debate. Emerging from several decades of ethnographic fieldwork in a valley of the Indian Himalayas, this beautifully written and deeply moving work can also be seen as a homage to the land and to the human and non-human actors with whom the author has shared a significant part of his life.

2The book explores a living tradition of divine kingship that can still be observed today in Rawain, a region of the western Himalayas in the Indian state of Uttarakhand. This politico-religious system exemplifies a context in which the distinction between religion and politics becomes analytically unproductive. Drawing on ethnographic data of exceptional nuances and precision, the monograph guides the reader in understanding how this form of divine kingship operates – how local deities govern their territories with clearly defined powers and responsibilities. These deities regulate the weather, dispense justice and periodically travel through their domains in ritual processions to assert sovereignty and to confront rival gods.

3The divine kings of Rawain are supported by a complex network of specialists from the local population – priests, ministers, patrons, soldiers and servants – each playing essential roles in the functioning of the divine polity. Communication between deities and people regularly takes place through oracles – local individuals who enter into a trance and speak on behalf of the gods. As Sax notes, in reference to Sutherland (1998), the public consultation of divine kings through these oracles constitutes the ‘foundational act’ of this political-religious order. During these consultations, the gods possess their oracles, issue decisions, adjudicate both civil and criminal disputes, and often urge the parties involved to reach negotiated settlements.

4The book powerfully demonstrates that, despite the profound transformations following Indian independence – including the advent of representative democracy, infrastructural development and economic shifts – this system of divine kingship endures and continues to structure village life. Sax provides an insider’s view of the way this system shapes intimate social relations as well as the collective management of legal, social and ecological processes.

5The book is made up of nine chapters, the first serving as an introduction and the final chapter as a conclusion. The opening chapter lays out foundational questions and concepts: from the notion of divine kingship to debates on the agency of spiritual beings and, most importantly, the methodological question of how anthropologists might approach and write about the central ‘social fact’ at the heart of this book – namely, that non-human entities act in the world and interact with human subjects. Sax also invites readers to reconsider three classical anthropological concepts – culture, ritual and ontology – in ways that are especially conducive to understanding specific sociocultural contexts. He argues that, rather than merely describing the categories and epistemologies of another world, anthropologists must show how such worlds are “realized” (p34) – that is, how they are constituted and sustained through embodied practices and public enactments. Drawing on Mol (2003), he suggests that people make their worlds ‘real’ through such enactments, which encompass both linguistic and performative dimensions. Moreover, these worlds emerge through the co-creation of human and non-human agents, such as the divine kings central to this study. This introduction offers a first-rate lesson in both methodology and epistemology, serving as a valuable resource for scholars engaged in the anthropology of religion and an especially useful pedagogical tool for students in training.

6Chapter two establishes one of the book’s theoretical core aims: to show that the religion–politics binary is not only inadequate but misleading when applied to South and Southeast Asian political formations, such as the one described here. The chapter revisits the long-standing debate on the ‘conundrum of the king’s authority’, which has animated Indological and anthropological scholarship since the 1960s. Sax critically engages with Louis Dumont’s influential claim that in India, as in the West, political and economic domains emerged as being separate from the religious one. Sax argues that until the modern period, what are now called ‘religion’ and ‘politics’ were not clearly distinguished in South Asian kingdoms. Drawing on both ethnographic data and classical texts, he shows that the Himalayan case he examines is a structural variation of a broader model of divine kingship historically widespread in South and Southeast Asia.

7Chapter three focuses on the central figure of the study – the divine King Karna – and shows how his identity emerges through his actions. Karna appears at times as ascetic, oracle or king, depending on the context. This multiplicity underscores one of the book’s key arguments: that both human and non-human beings are constituted through ongoing acts of self- and public enactment.

8Chapter four explores what Sax calls the ‘moral ecology’ of divine kingdoms. It compellingly illustrates the reciprocal relationship between moral conduct and environmental conditions, echoing classical Sanskrit ideas and mirroring similar dynamics the reviewer has observed in nearby regions.

9Chapter five, described by Sax as an ‘interlude’, presents a local ballad – sung by a very well-known musician, one of the author’s dearest friends, to whom the book is dedicated. The ballad, which specialists of this region will regard as a real gem, depicts the precolonial world of headhunting warriors, rich in emotional and tragic resonance. Though beautifully written, the chapter may be less accessible to readers unfamiliar with the ethnographic or historical context. The chapter would have benefited from more effective contextualization – particularly in the introduction, conclusion and intermediary sections – to improve the clarity of the overall argument.

10Chapter six centres on the ‘minister’ of the divine king, who is also a close friend of the author. It shows how interpersonal conflicts among ministers, soldiers and servants deeply affect not only governance but also the private lives of villagers.

11Chapter seven, also built around a local ballad, delves into the region’s economy, highlighting the value of livestock – particularly sheep and goats – and the importance of honour as a core social principle.

12Chapter eight introduces another divine king ruling over a neighbouring territory and, through two ethnographic vignettes, illustrates how divine authority remains deeply dependent on human agency.

13The final chapter focuses on Someshwar, another divine king, and considers the theme of change. It explores how villagers have worked for decades to reshape the identity and presence of their deity.

14While the book includes some thought-provoking reflections on the impact of contemporary Indian politics on local configurations of divine kingship, readers might have welcomed further discussion on the broader religious and political movements currently shaping the national landscape. Indeed, expanding the scope of the discussion might have further enriched an already compelling and finely crafted study.

15What makes Sax’s work particularly valuable is that it offers a clear example of a type of anthropological practice increasingly rare today: long-term, participatory ethnographic fieldwork. This deep immersion allows the anthropologist to acquire a finely textured, intimate understanding of a culture from within. Through his enduring friendships and shared life experiences with his interlocutors, Sax provides a deeply nuanced account that captures the seemingly banal yet profoundly meaningful aspects of everyday life. In an academic context that increasingly privileges rapid output and methodological flexibility, this book stands as a powerful defense of classical anthropological methods.

16Moreover, the book is exemplary in its reflexivity. The author is transparent about the conditions of his research and devotes significant attention to the three primary interlocutors who have accompanied him over three decades of fieldwork – but without limiting the narrative to them. These relationships, marked by trust, intimacy and shared existential concerns, become integral to the ethnographic narrative.

17Another methodological strength lies in Sax’s treatment of folklore – not as a relic of an outdated anthropological past but as a form of collective history and an essential resource for understanding contemporary ontological worlds. Songs, legends and local narratives, far from being exoticised or marginalised, are treated as serious theoretical and ethnographic sources. Particularly striking are the author’s reflections on the methodological use of ‘folklore’ (p220), which he defends as a valid mode of accessing indigenous world-making.

18What also makes this book a brilliant and engaging read is the elegance of the prose and the clarity and originality of the argumentation. Sax skillfully weaves together various kinds of sources and narrative registers: ethnographic description, fieldnotes, biographical sketches, songs, textual references from both contemporary anthropology and classical South Asian literature and theoretical discussions (on the ontological turn, religion and politics, kingship and modernity). One of his most effective stylistic strategies is to begin with an ethnographic case and to draw an analogy with theoretical debates in both social sciences and in South Asian intellectual traditions.

19For specialists of the western Himalayas, this book will undoubtedly be of special interest, a real source of precious knowledge. It presents songs and oral traditions that are slowly dying out, offering both ethnographic insight and cultural preservation; from the beautiful narratives, the songs about blood feuds, the author narrating his participation in the local ball game and a myriad of details that specialists of the region will find so relevant and moving. Beyond its regional focus, however, the book is a major contribution to debates on divine kingship, the nexus between politics and religion and the agency of non-human beings. On a broader scale, Sax’s work constitutes an important contribution to ongoing theoretical discussions on the ontological turn and the decolonisation of knowledge. It demonstrates how anthropology, when grounded in long-term relationships, reflexivity and attention to both the ordinary and the extraordinary, continues to provide irreplaceable insights into the human (and non-human) condition.