William Wilberforce on caste

From Substance of the speeches of William Wilberforce, esq. on the clause in the East-India bill for promoting the religious instruction and moral improvement of the natives of the British dominions in India, on the 22d of June, and the 1st and 12th of July, 1813 (1813) Read the full speech here

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But even Swartz’s converts, it is alleged, were all of the lowest class of the people, wretches who had lost caste, or were below it; and the same assertion is generally made concerning the native Christians at this day. This again, Sir, is one of those wretched prejudices which receive easy credence, because they fall in with the preconceived notions of the receiver, and pass current from man to man without being questioned, in spite of the plainest and most decisive refutation. Even our opponents themselves will refer to Mr. Swartz’s own authority; and that excellent man having happened to read in India much such a speech concerning Missionaries as the Honourable Baronet has this day uttered, which had been made in the India-House the year before, by Air. Montgomery Campbell, he positively contradicted all those stale assertions in disparagement of the Missionaries and their followers, which had been so generally circulated ; among the rest, this of the low degraded quality of their converts; by stating, that if Mr. Campbell had even once attended their Church, he would have observed, that more than two thirds were of the higher caste, and so it was, he said, at Tranquebar and Vepery. In like manner, Dr. Kerr, who was officially commissioned by the Madras Government, in 1806, to visit the Malabar coast, for the express purpose of obtaining every possible information in regard to the establishment, &c. of the Christian Religion in that part of the Peninsula, after stating, that the character of the native Christians, whose numbers, according to the best accounts, are estimated at from seventy to eighty thousand, is marked by a striking superiority over the heathens in every moral excellence, and that they are remarkable for their veracity and plain dealing, adds, ” They are respected very highly by the Nairs” (the nobility of the country), ” who do not consider themselves defiled by associating; with them, though it is well known that the Nairs are the most particular of all the Hindoos in this respect ; and the Rajahs of Travancore and Cochin admit them to rank next to Nairs.”

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But the evils of Hindostan are family, fire-side evils: they pervade the whole mass of the population, and embitter the domestic cup, in almost every family. Why need I, in this country, insist on the evils which arise merely out of the institution of Caste itself; a system which, though, strange to say, it has been complimented as a device of deep political wisdom, must surely appear to every heart of true British temper to be a system at war with truth and nature; a detestable expedient for keeping the lower orders of the community bowed down in an abject state of hopeless and irremediable vassalage. It is justly, Sir, the glory of this country, that no member of our free community is naturally precluded from rising into the highest classes in society. And, in fact, we have all witnessed instances of men who have emerged out of their original poverty and obscurity, and have risen to the highest level by the in-born buoyancy of their superior natures ; our free constitution, to which such occurrences are scarcely less honourable than to the individuals who are the subjects of them, opening the way for the developement, and Providence favouring the exercise, of their powers. Even where slavery has existed, it has commonly been possible, (though in the West Indies, alas! artificial difficulties have been interposed,) for individuals to burst their bonds, and assert the privileges of their nature. But the more cruel shackles of Caste are never to be shaken; as well might a dog, or any other of the brute creation, it is the Honourable Gentleman’s own illustration, aspire to the dignity and rights of man.

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Equality, in short, is the vital essence and the very glory of our English laws. Of theirs, the essential and universal pervading character is inequality ; despotism in the higher classes, degradation and oppression in the lower. And such is the systematic oppression of this despotism, such its universal predominancy, that, not satisfied with condemning the wretched Soodras for life to their miserable debasement, (nay, death itself does not mend their condition), and endeavouring to make that degradation sure, by condemning them to ignorance as well as humiliation, the same inequalities pursue and harass their victims, in the various walks and occupations of life. If they engage in commerce, they are to pay 57. per cent, interest for money, while a Bramin pays 1/. and the other two castes 2/. and 3/. per cent. Their punishments are far more severe than those of the higher classes, for all crimes; although, with any but a Hindoo legislator, their inferior measure of knowledge might be held to extenuate their guilt.

Caste, King and Dharma: from Varendra to Bangladesh

by Sergio Targa

First published on the Parittran blog, January 31, 2011

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Historically caste as we know it today developed from the beginning of the Christian era. It received a major thrust from the Gupta period and got established by the 13th century. Far from being a religious sort of structure, caste was a political one: it was the way a kingdom was built and functioned. The caste system was basically the power structure of the early medieval Indian state. The following discussion will hopefully bear out this point.

Gopal paid his debt to his forefathers in heaven by begetting the illustrious Dharmapala, who, conversant with the precepts of the sastras, by restraining those who swerved from the right course, made the castes conform to their proper tenets.

These verses (slokas) are found in a Sanskrit copper plate (tamroshason) of Debpal, the third king of the famous Bengal Dynasty, reigning approximately between 810 and 849 AD. The name of the plate is The Mungir Copper Plate of Devapala. The verses are extremely important for our discourse. The kings of the Pal dynasty were fervent Buddhist; Debpal was certainly so. Thus how is it possible that a Buddhist king was praised for having enforced the discipline and the regulations of the caste system? If the caste system is a Hindu invention and institution how and why is it found as a major achievement among the deeds of a Buddhist king? My understanding is that caste was not a religious tenet but a political one. Debpal being a king used the caste system as a political device, no matter his personal religious affiliation. My idea is that the caste system was the framework and structure of the early medieval north eastern Indian state. That is, caste was the way the medieval state organised and structured itself.

How was it possible?

From the Monushonghita we come to know that:

“The king has been created (to be) the protector of the castes (varna) and orders, who, all according to their rank, discharge their several duties.”
(George Bühler, translator. (Sacred Books of the East, Volume 25), Chapter 7,35).

From this expression we understand that the main purpose of a king is that of enforcing the caste system. He has been created to that scope and purpose.

“Through fear of him all created beings, both the immovable and the movable, allow themselves to be enjoyed and swerve not from their duties.” (Chapter 7,15).

A king defends and enforces the caste system because of the exclusive use he has of military strength. It is because of danda (i.e. rod of punishment) that no one is allowed to swerve from his/her caste.

“If the king did not, without tiring, inflict punishment on those worthy to be punished, the stronger would roast the weaker, like fish on a spit; The crow would eat the sacrificial cake and the dog would lick the sacrificial viands, and ownership would not remain with any one, the lower ones would (usurp the place of) the higher ones.” (Chapter 7,20-21).

The previous idea finds his better explanation in these two verses: if the king doesn’t use force, then the stronger will get over the weaker. So far nothing remarkable, but the following verse shows what the previous one meant: stronger means lower caste and weaker means higher caste. Without force (i.e. danda) the system will collapse. Specifically, the collapse of the system is remarkable in that right, power and ownership become impossible. In other words, the state as such becomes impossible. This situation is called in Sanskrit either arajokota or matsianiaia. We’ll see these expressions later.

I would like now to draw the reader’s attention to one particular and all important point: ownership and right. Why is it that without castes or with the tumbling of castes ownership and right is not possible? The fact is that castes define and predetermine a very fixed hierarchical series of adhikaras. Let’s see them:

a) Sudra: the servants. According to dharmasastras, had the least entitlement as far as adhikaras were concerned. They had mastery over their body, in the best of cases. Service to the three higher castes was their true and only right. A sudra could not be the master or owner of anything: whatever he has belonged to the higher caste he served. He was completely excluded from the knowledge of the Vedas.
b) Vaisya: the commoners, the ordinary people. They had right over their own household and on movable wealth in general. Agriculture, animal husbandry and commerce were their rights. They had a certain access to the Vedas.
c) Ksatriya: the warriors and rulers. They were lords of the people and of the land. They were proficient in the use of weapons. Their mastery was exercised on land of which they could be real owners.
d) Brahmana: the religious specialists. Being the knower of the Vedas they were entitled to the whole cosmos. In particular they were the masters of sacrifices, the actions which indeed sustained the whole universe.

To be kept in mind is that a higher caste included in its adhikaras (i.e. rights) the adhikaras of all the caste beneath his, so that a Vaisya had among its adhikaras the adhikaras of a Sudra as well; a Ksatriya had those of a Vaisya and a Sudra and so on. The caste system in practice preordained who could do what. And if we think about it, we’ll see that a state is exactly a system were a power order is enforced and respected. Particularly, a state is a power structure by means of which personal rights of property are enforced and protected.

But if we said that the king through the use of danda maintains the order of society, why is there the need of a caste system? We certainly remember that state power relies on two basic components: coercion and consensus. The stronger the consensus the lesser the use of coercion to maintain the status quo. Now, if we think that the Pal dynasty ruled in Bengal and Bihar for more than 400 years it is virtually impossible even to think that such a long rule was established on the continued use of force. The caste system which came to assume strong religious connotations worked exactly and was necessary exactly to create that consensus we were talking about above. People, generally speaking were they themselves convinced of caste belonging (through religious sanction) and thus less inclined to rebel. In case of rebellion the king could use violence to put things right. It must be borne in mind, however, that when in dharmasastras or other texts right and wrong are discussed about, they actually mean dharmic and odharmic, that is, according or disaccording to varnasramadharma (i.e. the law of caste and stages of life).

To further stress the point being made here, let us now see what arajakota and matsianiaia mean. In the Ramacarita of Sandiakaranandi (The Ramacarita was written during the reign of king Madanapala, 1144-1162. It deals with a rebellion at the time of king Mohipal II. Mohipal II ruled likely for a few years from 1068 AD. It was during his reign that the Kaivartas headed by Bhima rebelled and killing Mohipal II established their own kingdom in Varendra) it is said that:

“Varendri stood miserable because the visayas (i.e. districts) and villages fell in confusion regarding their ownership” (Ramacarita 1,48B).

This is what arajakata means: either a situation of kinglessness or a situation where an unlawful king reigns. In both situations there is confusion about the laws of property, because protection and enforcement of dharma (i.e. varnasramadharma) fails. In the same Ramacarita it is said that:

“Ramapala, never feeling too exultant and offering adequate protection, repelled the revolution against dharma, and holding up the rod of punishment he went round the earth and put the world on the path trodden by the righteous” (Ramacarita 1.24B).

The Kaivarta’s rebellion is here interpreted as a revolution against dharma. Why? Because the Kaivarta, a sudra caste, killed the lawful king Mohipal II. And this was certainly against dharma. When Rampal recovers Varendra this means that he recovers dharma. It is than with the rod of punishment (i.e. dondo) that he put things right (i.e. according to dharma).
In the Khalimpur Copperplate of Dharmapala (802 AD circa) it is said that

“The glorious Gopal was made to take the hands of Fortune by the people to put an end to the practice of fishes” (Indian Epigraphy IV, p. 251, verse 4).

We must remember that Sasanka died in circa 620 AD and Harsha Vardhana in circa 647 AD. After these two kings, particularly the latter, the situation in Bengal remained fluid without any king strong enough to unify and pacify it. This situation continued until circa 750 AD when Gopal the first king of the Pal dynasty was ‘elected’ king. Here it is interesting to notice that matsianiaia is a situation in which a big fish eats a small one. The event recorded in the copperplate far from revealing a sort of democratic practice, simply refers to Gopal as the king who enforced varnasramadharma. To prove this interpretation we could see Kamadakiya’s Nitisara, a manual of politics not early than the 8th century AD. In section II verse 40, it is said that matsianiaia is the breakdown of varnasramadharma.

To sum up our discussion we may quote another passage from puranic literature. The following is taken from the Brihaddharma Purana, a work from Bengal variously dated to the 10th century or later:

“In the absence of danda, men would turn haughty and kill animals, men and sacrificial preys; the crows would eat puradasa and the dogs the objects of sacrifice. No ownership of anything would be possible, nor would be there any gradation of high and low. The four varnas would totter before the oppression of the haughty. It is by danda, as such, that all are sustained and those who are pursuing dharma are protected. For fear of danda again, men become law-abiding and desist from evil deeds”.

Absence of danda either means the absence of a king or the presence of an unworthy one. Then it is stated that without a king not only there is a sort of collapse in the law and order situation, but a collapse in the cosmos as well. To be noticed is that the impossibility of ownership is mentioned right besides the confusion between high and low and the tottering of the four varnas. In fact the destruction of the laws of property is the destruction of the four varnas. This is again orajokotha and matsianiaia.

To conclude: in early medieval north eastern India, the caste system articulated the then state, in as much as it articulated the laws of property. The king was absolutely necessary for the system to work, being himself entitled to use dondo and thus enforce caste configuration. Without king there could not possibly be castes. In other words we may say that caste was born to be functional to the distribution and exercise of power.

Now we have no longer a king but we do have power. Is it possible to think that even today caste and what has remained of it remains functional to the distribution and exercise of power? I personally believe that even in modern Bangladesh caste and casteism are the foundation of the distribution and exercise of power both at the micro and macro levels. Today we may give caste the name of patronage: another name for the feudal structure the caste system was born to sustain and foster. Even in today’s Bangladesh’s society hierarchy and patronage are the real axis of the power structure. Privileges are apportioned according to social status creating linkages of personal loyalties between individuals and communities alike. The resilience of the system has created that strange and hybrid political configuration, which is in-between the modern nation state which Bangladesh wishes to be and the feudal social system casteism continually recreates. In the end, Bangladesh might once again be defined as a congery of warring principalities where this time the rulers are not the kings or ksatriyas of old but the new captains of the people this time blessed by formal electoral processes. We might not be longer able to identify in today’s society the four castes of dharmasastric memory, but I wonder whether in Indian history we have ever been able to do so.

But caste has now a stronger cultural connotation as well. Caste and the hierarchical principle it embodies are part and parcel of Bangladeshi culture and custom. The social discrimination we see at work between poor and rich, women and men, low ranking people and high ranking ones is the same we see at work in the private and familial spheres of life. Bangladeshi culture is imbued with hierarchy no matter how highly we speak of democracy and equality. The latter values are pretty much foreigner to this land and antithetic to hierarchy, the super value of the Indian sub-continent’s cultural milieu. What to do then? Things being so, a political transformation is, though desirable, not enough to ensure a definite departure of caste and casteism. What is really necessary is a cultural revolution. In as long as the hegemonic culture is one of patronage and hierarchy, there is no real possibility of change. In this context, whatever political revolution or transformation would merely reproduce the ancient regime. It is only when a new culture will gain a space in Bangladeshi society that a political transformation for the good will come about. Cultural transformations require long spans of time but can be planned and implemented. A counter culture, the like of which Gramsci speaks about in his Prison’s Notebooks, must start at grass roots level through programmes of formal and informal education. People must be made aware of their own dignity and power. They must be alerted to the fact that their consent is important and should not be given to anybody without thinking and understanding. People should be taught that socio-economic and political structures are man made and as such can be changed etc. But what is more people should learn to resist the arrogance of local influential men, the ksatriyas of today, who for personal interest and social prestige do not hesitate to maintain the poor poor, the weak weak, the oppressed oppressed, the untouchables utouchables.

Read the full article here. The author is a Xaverian missionary. Parittran, the organisation on whose website this article was published, was created among the Dalits of Bangladesh with support from these missionaries. The Xaverians are recognized for taking up the cause of the Rishi, a Dalit caste. Read another of Sergio Targa’s articles on the changes among the Rishi here.

Caste and the Syrian Christians

An excerpt from a post by Thomas Joseph, a blogger based in the United States. Read the full post here

Christianity is believed to have come to Kerala in the first century AD when the Apostle Thomas, like other disciples, ventured near and far to spread the gospel in accordance with Christ’s command. There has been some speculation that the reason why St Thomas came to Kerala had less to do with converting the “locals” and was more to do with trying to convert the sizable Jewish population who lived in Kerala especially in Cochin.

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I write about this because there was a communication on a Yahoo group to which I belong consisting of mainly Asians who lived or live in East Africa. Apparently there is a debate going on in the UK about outlawing caste discrimination in Britain – yes, the old-fashioned discrimination against Dalits that is associated with India. There is opposition among some Hindu groups in Britain, to this legislation – in effect arguing that caste discrimination in the UK should not be addressed! This entire issue of seeking to achieve a “protected” status for casteism in the UK by certain Hindu groups is a whole different discussion.

But, in this context another member of the Yahoo group cited an email he received from someone known to me and several other family members which essentially said that such casteism is not just confined to Hindus and that even Christians in Kerala are guilty of the same thing.

A part of his email stated:

“But do you know Hindus are not the only ones to be blamed for this accursed practice. Even the so called upper class Christians in Kerala are guilty of this though they had given up Hinduism centuries ago claiming to have been converted by the Apostle St. Thomas!”

He went on to cite a Goan he knew from many years ago when he was a student in England who apparently asked him what caste he was. He (the Goan) claimed he was of the Brahmin caste. He goes on to say: “Wow! I was confused. My parents had never told me what caste we belonged to, not that it would have interested me in the least.”

Now, I am a Syrian Christian by birth but because of my upbringing in Mombasa, Kenya where there were only a handful of other Syrian Christian families, my involvement in the Syrian Christian faith has been minimal. However, I felt that a response was warranted to address the statements made in that email. Here is the thrust of my response:

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“I presume that by “upper class Christians” he is referring to Syrian Christians – being the descendants of those who were supposedly converted by the Apostle Thomas . In all my years, I have NEVER ONCE heard a Kerala Christian – Syrian or otherwise – referring to him/herself as belonging to so and so caste – as S—– pointed out, it would be incongruous to do so. What does happen is that the older generation talks about their antecedents and how they are descended from Brahmins, etc – incidentally such claims are not provable and are based on anecdotal information at best. Many of these claims of Brahmin antecedents are predicated on the belief that St Thomas converted several prominent Brahmin families in the first century. Some of these families are named in these anecdotes and today, if you check out the family websites of some Syrian Christian families, they claim to have descended from these converted Brahmin families. In fact, references to having come from an “ancient (Syrian Christian) family” are found so often that one wonders if there are any families left that are not ancient:)”

“What Syrian Christian families frequently do is to refer to their antecedents in the context of their family names. This is pretty much the norm in conversations among them – especially the older generation – where one of the first questions asked is where one is from within Kerala and then a query as to one’s family name. The younger generation who were brought up elsewhere in India or abroad, are quite oblivious of this sort of information and often view it as being rather superfluous and inconsequential.”

“My father used to say that the biggest change that had taken place in the social structure in Kerala during his years in Kenya was the diminished importance of family antecedents among Syrian Christians. It has been replaced with affluence – ie how well off is the family! He used to say it with a mixture of regret and pride – those who knew him can relate to his attitude. He was affected to his detriment by its diminished influence but he was intellectually detached enough to recognize that it meant true social progress and he used to say that it was a good thing that a form of meritocracy had taken the place of family antecedents.”

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“Where I do agree with S—- is that there is a pecking order here in terms of how Christians view other Christians – yes, very unchristian but it is a reality. Syrian Christians – perhaps because of their assertion and belief that they were converted by St Thomas – view themselves as a cut above other Kerala Christians. They tend to view other Kerala Christians who were either converted by the Portuguese or the missionaries with diffidence bordering on mild unspoken derision – again, quite contrary to Christian teachings. In fact, even among Syrian Christians, there is a certain amount of denominational rivalry which occasionally gets quite antagonistic. However, when it comes to marriage, denomination invariably ceases to be a factor if an eligible young man or woman appears on the scene! So, pragmatism rules when it comes to self-interest!!”

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Read the full post here

Caste in the educational institution: In conversation with P.D. Sathyapal

P.D. Satyapal is an anthropologist, professor and BAMCEF speaker. In conversation, he has shared his experience of caste and gender. Here he shares his experiences of caste inside educational institutions and his first encounters with Ambedkarite thought…

Both my parents were teachers in high school. It was a church school. I didn’t have negative experiences in school, except for a few occasions when the Brahmin teachers would talk about reservation. We were not enjoying reservation at the time, except, as Christians, we have 1 per cent reservation in Andhra Pradesh. When discussing personalities, they would say, ‘You should have a lot of regard for Gandhi, because if he was not there, you will not have ended up in schools.’ I never really understood at the time. Later, I came to understand that they were sarcastic comments.

I went to Loyola College – that’s in Vijayawada. I did my intermediate and degree there. I am from a Protestant background and there for the first time, I saw the difference between the Protestants and Catholics. I was there for a full five years. I used to be block leader for a hostel. The warden used to give me a list of students. He asked me to check if they regularly attend mass or not. I thought he was giving me a list of Christians. I told him, ‘Father, there are so many other Christian boys. Should I give their names?’ He said, ‘No, no, I know who all are there. But I am particular about these guys.’ It was only in the final year that I understood that they were all the so-called upper caste Christian boys. In the final year of my BSc, we could understand how the management was moving. My rector was a Brahmin convert. My principal was a Kamma convert and my warden was Reddy. They say that they are a Christian institution but they don’t go with the compassion and concern that they always boast of. In my final year, we had a problem with our warden, 71 of our students made some kind of an agitation for the first time in the history of that college. All our TCs were posted home…I stayed outside taking a private room. Since then, I can see how they could be antagonistic to students who were rebels,  at the same time, the inequal treatment that is meted out due to caste.

After graduation, I moved to TISS. My father had made a commitment that they would send me to the church as a missionary. Even after Plus Two, I was slowly coming out of the fold. My father was worried. ‘If not as a missionary, I will send you as a social worker,’ he said. So, though I’ve done graduation in sciences, he sent me to do a Masters in Social Work (MSW) at TISS. We belong to a church called the Salvation Army which has social work as a part of the missionary work they do. There in Mumbai, I came in touch with Ambedkarite organisations. I got friends who were well-versed in Ambedkarite ideology.  I attended their meetings on things like ‘what is caste,’ ‘what is its dynamics.’ That was my first brush with Ambedkarite surroundings.

After I graduated from TISS, my father wanted to send me to the church by force. There were heated discussions. My father was a disciplinarian, he used to beat me around. So, when I decided and told him I was not going to the church, he was angry with me, and threw out my suitcase. I came out of the house. One of my relatives was studying in Andhra University. He asked me to join a course. This anthropology struck me. I was just going through the syllabus and it was quite exotic for me. That’s how I strayed into anthropology and stayed there. Throughout my stint at Andhra University, in Vizag, there used to be caste associations, and different castes used to have them. Andhra University is an area where things are open, social identities are open, and people used to agitate. So then I took part, I started reading Ambedkar.

I met a professor called Pawan Murthy – he was a professor of political science. He was a good Ambedkarite. He had worked with Dr. Ambedkar. He knew him right from 1944, when he came to Andhra. Both things are there for him – he is in teaching as well as activism. When I was in hostel, he used to be our chief warden. Whoever approaches him, he would always conduct a small interview, he used to ask, who is Dr. Ambedkar, what is his birthday, have you read any of his work. When the answer is no, he would immediately come down on you. [laughs] He forced me to read many books and he used to be very strict.

Later on, he became my father-in-law. I married his daughter.

After my post-graduation here, we were in several agitations. I was involved in the agitations against the Karamchedu* incident. I participated in caste associations. I started identifying myself as an Ambedkarite. In 1986, I joined the Hyderabad Central University(HCU) for my MPhil. In 1985, they started the first UGC NET. I was the second batch. If I had not got that fellowship, I might not have got into research, I moved to HCU, there I found that it is an agraharam. There I’ve seen that, of course, they take students from SC/ST backgrounds. But they’ll see to it, that within the first semester itself, more than 60 to 70 people will discontinue. What happens is, you know, there is an SC guy or some person maybe from a Telugu medium background because Central Universities should take students from rural backgrounds. In the very first or second week, they’ll ask them to prepare for a talk on a certain topic and the whole department will be there, including the teachers. The teachers bombard the students with questions. First thing is, they could not converse very freely in English. Second, this kind of a thing is new for them. They get discouraged and they leave.

We had a HoD, she was a Bengali Brahmin, married to a Telugu guy. She has done good work on ethnicity, she had got a PhD from Philadelphia, she used to smoke a pipe, she used to be very, very vocal, and I was under her guidance. She had two – six research scholars were there – she had two pet research scholars who were girls, who also started smoking. I went to see her and I was told that she was busy. Then I went to the canteen. How they try to discourage you, you know -  she came to the canteen, she found me, and said ‘Hey you, you’re the one who came from Andhra University?’ and I said, ‘Yes, ma’am’, and she said, ‘Don’t you know that you should come and see the HoD. What kind of people are you? You don’t know …’  She was just shouting like that. Anyone would have been really shaken by this, I was just.. I told her, ‘Ma’am, I came to your room but I was told that you are busy, so I thought I would meet you later on. Anyway, nice meeting you.’ I just gave it back like that.

Then she thought, ‘Ok, this guy is giving back,’ and after three months, she changes me to another teacher who is from BC background. He is also from Andhra University, then he moved to Shillong, his name is professor Kothanda Rao. He is one who really taught me how to face these guys in educational institutions. He’s from the fishermen community. His own experience is quite exemplary – he came from a very poor background, he’s a self-made man, he’s got a lot of influence, he used to write to people like Fredrik Barth in 1963 when he was doing his M.A. (Barth was interested in ethnic communities. Barth took him to the Hague, Netherlands.) Later on, professor Kothanda Rao became an authority on kinship, specially in south India – he worked on the elder sister’s daughter alliance ties. People like Louis Dumont used to write to him. He is a fearless critic. He was in very bad health, when he was in bed also, he reviewed a book on Paramalai Kallar, written by Louis Dumont. He asked me to take notes – Louis Dumont missed the elder-sister’s daughter alliance in the kinship ties – so this fellow started of with ‘I cannot forgive you for your methodological sin’ and, like that, so many harsh words he used. Later on, after two years, after Kothanda Rao passed, Louis Dumont wrote an article, mentioning him. He said ‘What do a few harsh words matter, when people like Rao are extending my work and correcting its inadequacies.’ It was my good fortune that I was under this man. Here was the man who told me, ‘If  you are good at your subject and if you can shoot with your tongue, you can get away with these institutions, otherwise they will really crush you.’

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*The names of the Dalits murdered in Karamchedu have been recorded here. Scroll down this page to find excerpts from the article by D. Narasimha Reddy 1985. ‘Karamchedu: A dialectic without development’, Economic and Political Weekly 20 (37): 1546–49.

In the concluding set of excerpts from a conversation with P.D. Sathyapal, he will share his experiences as an anthropologist and of his work at the interface between activism and academia.

கதைசொல்லி பாமா / Storyteller Bama

கூடுதமிழ்ஸ்டூடியோவில்  லிவி எழுதியது

Written by Livi at KooduThamizhStudio

முழு கட்டுரையை இங்கே படிக்கலாம். இந்த வலைபக்கத்தில் பாமா சொல்லிய கதைகளின் ஒலிப்பதிவையும் கேட்கலாம்.

Read the full essay in Tamil here. You can also listen to the audio of Bama telling a few stories in Tamil by scrolling down this page.

One of Bama’s stories has been translated into English and published in the Little Magazine. Here is an introduction to Bama by her translator Lakshmi Holmstrom.

“பாரச்சிலுவையை
சுமக்கவும் வேண்டும்
கல்லிலும் முள்ளிலும்
இடறல் படவும் வேண்டும்
முகம் குப்புற விழ‌வும் வேண்டும்
கசையடி படவும் வேண்டும்
பனிமலையுச்சிக்கு நடக்கவும் வேண்டும்
இவையனைத்தும் தாண்டுதல்
அறையப்படுவதற்காகவே “

- பானுபாரதி

“The load of the cross
Must be borne.
Stumble, we must,
On stone and thorn,
Fall on our face, we must
Feel the whiplash,
Walk to the peak of snowy mountains.
We cross all these
Only to be crucified.”

-Banubharathi

…

சாதியென்பதை எதிர்த்து இலக்கியத்தில் வலிகளின் பதிவும், அதை எதிர்கொள்ள ஏற்றுக்கொண்ட துணிவும் முன்னெடுத்த பாதைகளுமே நாளைய வரலாற்றை மாற்றி அமைக்கும். நூற்றாண்டுகளாக அடிமைப்படுத்தப்பட்ட தலித்துகளின் வாழ்க்கை பதிவை அவர்கள் போல் காத்திரமாக யாராலும் முன்வைக்க இயலாது என்பதை உணர்த்தியது கருக்கு. மதம் சக மனிதனை நேசிக்கச் சொல்லித்தந்தாலும், எந்த சாதி சார்ந்த மனிதனிடம் அன்பு செலுத்துவது என்பதையும் அதன் நிறுவனம் உட்புகுத்திச் சொல்லித் தரும் என்பதை தெளிவாக்கியது அவர் கன்னியாஸ்திரியாக பூண்ட துறவறம்.
…

The literature against caste, with its register of pain and the paths that were followed with the courage to face it, will rewrite our tomorrows. Karukku reminds us that none can tell the life stories of dalits with the same rage as dalits whose forebears have been enslaved for centuries. Her experiences as a nun make it clear that even if religion teaches us to love one another, its institutions will interject and tell us to which castes we may show our affections.
…

பாமாவின் மூத்த சகோதரர் ராஜ் கௌதமன். அவர் தேர்ந்த விமர்சகராக அறியப்படுபவர். சிலுவை ராஜ்சரித்திரம் அவரின் புகழ் பெற்ற நாவல். கருக்கு நாவலில் அவரை கல்வி கற்க ஊக்கப்படுத்தும் அதே அண்ணன் தான். தமையனிடம் இருந்து தான் எழுத்தைப் பெற்றுக் கொண்டீர்களா எனக் கேட்டவுடன்உடனே மறுதலித்தவர் தன் தந்தையிடம் இருந்து தான் எழுதும் திறன் கடத்தப்பட்டிருக்க வேண்டும் என்றார். “என் தகப்பனார் அறியப்படாவிட்டாலும் நாடகங்கள் எழுதுவார், பாடல்கள் இயற்றுவார். எழுத்துத்திறன் ஜீனில் வந்திருக்க வேண்டும் ” என்றார்.

Bama’s older brother is Raj Gauthaman. He is known as a skilled critic. Siluvai Rajasarithram is his famous novel. He is the brother who is mentioned in Karukku as encouraging her to study. So did your writing come to her through her brother? She immediately refutes the suggestion. ‘The skill of writing must have been passed on to me from my father’, she says. “Even if my father was not well-known, he wrote plays and composed songs. The skill of writing must have come through my genes.” she said.

பாமாவின் எழுத்து அவரின் கிராமத்தில் உள்ள மனிதர்களின் வாழ்வியலை அவ்வாறே பதிவு செய்வ‌து. அவர் நாவல் எழுதுவது என்று திட்டமிட்ட வடிவுடன் எழுதாததால் பெயர்களையும் மாற்றாமல் நிகழ்காலத்தில் அழைக்கும் பெயர்களுடனே கருக்கு நாவலிலும் குறிப்பிடிருக்கிறார்.

Bama’s writings documents the life of people in the village exactly as it is. Since, she did not begin writing with the aim to write a novel, names have found place as they are. The names that are used by people currently have found place in the Karukku novel.
…

…பாமாவும் தான் எழுதிய கருக்கு நாவலால் ஒரு வருடம் பாண்டிச்சேரியில் தன்னுடைய தமயன் வீட்டில் வனவாசம் இருந்திருக்கிறார். அதிகம் படிக்க தெரியாத மக்கள் பிறர் மேலோட்டமாக படித்துச் சொன்னதை அப்படியே கேட்டுவிட்டு ஆத்திரத்தில் கொதித்திருக்கிறார்கள். அந்த நாட்களில் பாமாவின் ஊரைச் சேர்ந்த எட்டாம் வகுப்பு வரை மட்டுமே படித்த ஒருவர் பாமாக்கு கடிதம் ஒன்றை எழுதியிருக்கிறார். அவரை கொஞ்ச நாட்கள் ஊர் பக்கம் வரவேண்டாம் என்று சொல்லிவிட்டு, அங்கிருக்கும் மக்களை கூட்டாமாகச் சேர்த்து நாவலை வாசித்துக் காட்டியிருக்கிறார். அவர்களின் பட்டப்பெயர்கள் இன்ன இன்ன இடத்தில் தான் உபயோகித்திருக்கிறார். எதையும் அவர் தவறாக எழுதவில்லை என்பதை விளங்கப் படுத்தியிருக்கிறார். அதன் பின்னரே அம்மக்களும் சமாதானம் அடைந்திருக்கின்றனர்.

…Bama too spent a year in exile in her brother’s house in Pondicherry for her novel, Karukku. The people who did not read much had listened to those who had read her work superficially and were enraged. In those days, a man from Bama’s village who had only completed his eighth standard had written a letter to her. He told her not to come near the village for a few days, then he had gathered the people and read the novel to them. He had explained that she was using their nicknames in specific places and that she had not written anything that was wrong. Only after this did the people grow calm.

பாமாவின் ஊரில் திறக்கப்பட்ட ‘அம்பேத்கர்’ சிலைக்கு அவரையும் சிறப்பு விருந்தினராக அழைத்துள்ளனர். இன்று ‘கருக்கு பாமா’ எனவே அவர்களால் அறியப்படுகிறார். பாமா இருப்பது அவர்களுக்கு பெருமிதமும் கூட. ‘இப்பொழுதெல்லாம் அவர்களே என்னிடம் வந்து கதைகளைக் கூறி இந்த கதையை எழுது என்று உரிமையுடன் சொல்கிற நிலைக்கு வந்துவிட்டது’ என்றார். ‘இப்பொழுது சுதாகரித்து விட்டேன் பெயரைமாற்றியே எழுதுகிறேன்’ என்று சிரித்துக் கொண்டே சொன்னார்.
…

She was also invited as a special guest to open the Ambedkar statue in her village. Today, she is known as ‘Karukku Bama’ by her people. Her existence is a source of pride for them. ‘Nowadays, they come to me of their own accord and tell me stories. It has come to a stage where they tell me, ‘write this story’ with authority’, she said. ‘Now I have learnt and change names when I write,” she said with a smile.
…

Caste in colonial Madras

Thank you Rhoda Alex for sharing this link to Southern India, written by F.E. Penny, with paintings by Lady Lawley, published 1914 by A. & C. Black in London. This book offers us a perceptive description of how caste is inscribed upon the colonised subject’s worldview and body and a glimpse of colonial Madras.

Chapter 1
Government House and the Mount Road, Madras

India is a land of contrasts. They are not far to seek. They stand out with startling vividness side by side in the streets of every large town. Poverty and wealth, squalor and splendour, the twice -born Brahman and the despised outcaste move together in the broad highway, never touching each other as they pass, nor mingling their lives. Poverty devoid of pride humbly steps aside, holding out the suppliant hand as splendour, mounted on an elephant or Arab horse, rides by. The outcaste Punchama, considered too degraded to tie the shoe-string of the caste man, shrinks under the shadow of the wall as the Brahman strolls on his way in the middle of the street. However thronged the road may be with traffic, the Brahman has no fear that he will be run over or jostled ; for it is well known that the unfortunate person who causes the death of a Brahman must expiate his sin by myriads of re-births on this earth, wherein he will find little joy and much sorrow.

Yet the Brahman does not have it all his own way. The street may be used by the Muhammadan, who regards every man not of his own faith as an infidel and therefore contemptible ; or by the European, who brings a good-natured indifference to the East which the oriental has never understood.

There is no greater contrast than that which is experienced on leaving the gates of Government House in Madras. The change is felt in the scene and moral atmosphere. The park in which the house stands, with its deer, its flowers and shrubs, its peaceful retirement, is exchanged at the very gateway itself for a wide dusty street full of life and noise.

The street is bordered by portia trees that bear a pale yellow tulip-shaped blossom. They grow readily and love the sea air ; and their bright green foliage is pleasant to look upon ; otherwise the portia is not altogether a desirable avenue tree. The banyan and tamarind are more graceful and give a deeper shade.

Under the trees not twenty yards from the gates may be seen the hawkers of rice-cakes, bananas, oranges, betel-leaf and areca-nut. Ten yards farther on squats a Valluvan, the astrologer and humble doctor-magician of one of the many hamlets of which Madras is composed. A bullock-cart with tired cattle halts under the very wall of the park. The bulls eat their provender of rice-straw, and the driver buys himself a rice-cake and a banana of the vendors near him.

Along the road pass bullock-carts, horses and carriages, motors and bicycles, ponies and jutkas – the two-wheeled conveyance of the country – and a constant stream of pedestrians. No one hurries in the East: yet for all that the drivers shout and gesticulate as they flog and goad their poor harried beasts, as if everything depended on the saving of time.

The soft red dust from the laterite road rises like powdered ochre and turns golden in the afternoon sun. The sea-breeze comes in from the Indian Ocean bringing with it the soft undertone of the falling surf; it brushes up the rustling fronds of the palms with a promise of refreshing coolness. The Cooum River that bounds on one side the Government House grounds, is spread in sheets of silver over its muddy bed. In the brackish water grows a weed that sets free the noxious phosphates of the mud. The air is polluted with a smell which even the double jasmine and Persian roses in the gardens cannot dominate.

The Governor’s carriage passes out with its servants in scarlet liveries, its prancing horses and its dignified coachman, whose likeness Lady Lawley has caught in her sketch. The equipage is accompanied by an escort of the bodyguard – selected native troopers in red uniforms with glittering steel accoutrements and pennoned lances. The cavalcade clatters by; the red dust dances madly in the sun, and every eye is turned to follow the gorgeous sight until it is swallowed up in the golden haze of the Mount road.

Muniswami, the butler, is left standing on the top of the steps of Government House. In his way and among his people he is an important person. He is the head of the domestic establishment, which he rules over with the strong hand of a despot. He has seen a long succession of notable Governors and notable guests at the Governor’s table. He understands the importance of his position, and maintains the dignity of it with acknowledged gravity. Butlers in private families pay him the highest compliment by imitating his manner and his tone.

One and all from the highest to the lowest are full of a curious wonder as they gaze after His Excellency; but this attitude does not spring from any feeling of envy. Among all classes there is covetousness of wealth and a desire to possess it; and this is shown in the usual ways of robbery and over-reaching; but the envy of social position is unknown in a country that is fast bound in the inexorable fetters of the caste system.

No one, from the Brahman passing along the road at his ease to the pariah widow selling betel-leaf and areca-nut under the portia trees, envies the Governor his high position; no one grudges him his brilliant escort of Lancers, his horses and carriages, his palace with its pillared verandahs and spacious rooms nor his numerous servants. But all alike, from the Brahman downwards, would have no objection to dip a hand into the Treasury chest, that the Governor helps to control.

Caste and the doctrine of fatalism in India combine to keep the units of humanity in their places, and to promote a contentment and resignation at which the European never ceases to marvel. Advocates of progress gird against the paralysing influence of caste. Were caste broken down tomorrow there would still be fatalism to deal with. “What is written on a man’s forehead cannot be rubbed off,” say Hindu and Muhammadan alike. The Governor’s fate has to be fulfilled to the letter. Rich as he seems to be and surrounded by magnificence, he cannot escape the fate “that is written on his forehead” and relegate his duties to any other person. He is as much bound to his position by birth and circumstances as the widowed betel-vendor is compelled by birth and circumstances to sell her wares just outside Government House gates.

The Governor has gone; the extra cloud of dust raised by the tramp of the escort’s horses settles down into its normal condition of haze; the attention of the staring open-mouthed people returns to the business of the day: they pass on; and we are left to watch the ways of the East on the high road.

One of the peculiarities of an Indian city, whether in the north or south, is the mixture of races that is to be seen at all times of the day. Possibly there is the same admixture in London, Paris, or Vienna, but it is not so marked, so obvious. It would be extremely difficult in Piccadilly to distinguish the different nationalities. Unless the ear caught the sound of the tongue, the eye could not decide with any certainty whether this man was a German and that a Frenchman. On the contrary, a Spaniard might be mistaken for an Italian, and a Greek for a Jew.

In an Indian city the identity of each nationality is plainly written on face and figure. The most casual observer can distinguish between a Muhammadan and a Hindu, an Afghan and a Singhalese, a Mahratta and an Armenian, an Arab and a Burmese; yet they are all of an oriental complexion and Asiatic type.

Among the Hindus themselves a distinction is visible. The Brahman and the Muckwa fisherman, the chetty and the syce, the coolie labourer and the clerk serving in a shop or office, the purohit or temple attendant and the domestic servant, are each to be recognised at a glance. Trade and caste have their marks and signs by which their followers may be known ; and it may be said with certainty : “There goes an Afghan ; he has come from the far north with horses ; he has sold them for money, which he will lay out on some product of the south that finds a ready sale up north – sandalwood oil, pearls, or perhaps a consignment of more bulky goods that will be sent by rail.” “Here comes a road coolie, a Wodiga by caste. He wears an unbleached loin-cloth bound tightly round his sinewy body, and an apology for a turban on his shaven head. Following at his heels are his wife and two daughters. They wear silver and brass ornaments set with shells instead of gems. They have been carrying baskets of laterite on their heads all day for road-mending ; for that is their trade.” “There stands a Muhammadan. He has been sitting at the tailor’s board in one of the little shops behind the English Club. All kinds of needlework are undertaken in that tiny den, from a ball-dress for an English lady to a chintz betel-bag for the horse-keeper’s wife.”

They all tell their tale of country, occupation, and, in most cases, of their faith as well. The Afghan trader and tailor are followers of the Prophet. The Hindu merchant, by the marks on his forehead, is a worshipper of Vishnu. The fisherman is a Christian belonging to the church founded in India by Xavier. The coolie and Wodiga are animists, and propitiate devils with blood sacrifices. The Singhalese is a Buddhist. From the lines drawn horizontally on his forehead the Hindu clerk proclaims himself a follower of the god Siva.

The oriental has no false shame about the profession of his religion. He exercises it without restraint, and respects the practice of it in others, whether they are of his own creed or of any other faith. This trait was exemplified at the visit of the King-Emperor, George V, to India. He openly observed Sunday as became a Christian; and attended the church service regularly. The action was regarded by the natives with approval; and His Majesty was honoured for his fidelity to his God. So impressed was a Sikh chief that he sent a gift to the church which the King attended in recognition of his sovereign’s profession of faith.

Read the rest of the book here.

What am I supposed to do now?

- Rhoda Alex

An unconscious but definite collective of shared memories and actual experiences relating to caste has been stashed away in the recesses of my brain and body.  These have made me wiser (I believe) and cautious about the way I deal with people. This collective has not turned me into a raging revolutionary as it should have!  In the words of Dr.Izzeldin Abuelaish, ‘I have the right to feel angry.’ But I don’t feel much at all. However, thanks to the bold new generation of friends in the social media who ‘think’ – I too have started to think. So, like a bovine (there you go), I settle down and the caste cud gushes forth from my insides, eager to be chewed!

Just a little background information – I was brought up entirely in Chennai, I went to convent schools, I lived in middle class environments and had a happy childhood.  My parents’ instruction to us was on the practical lines of discipline and example.  They did not talk about caste oppression though they distinctly made us feel proud of our caste which I later on found out was ‘not that low’.  Their goal for our lives was clearly to practice the Christian faith, to study well, to be happy, to get a good job and to be kind – nothing else mattered!! But even in this protected life, caste does leave its mark and I am not quite sure what to do with it.

Some memories and experiences in random order

1. A recent incident: I saw an old lady in the middle of the road trying to cross it. She was standing at the same spot even after I had finished my quick shopping. Deciding to help her crossover, I went over gesturing to guide her by placing my hand reassuringly on her arm. She smelled and looked fresh manjal (turmeric) – going to or back from a ritual. ‘DON’T TOUCH’ she said in English.

2. I must have been in my 8th or 9th standard and was travelling to Bombay by train alone. My brothers ensured my safety in the ladies coupe.  I remember that my co-passengers were a vegetarian family group and I had bought a non-vegetarian dinner.  So when they started eating with gusto, I said I will go to the upper berth where I was to sleep and have my dinner there.  Half-way into my chicken and chapathi combo – the lights were switched off!  After repeatedly calling out to the aunties to switch on the lights in vain, I blindly felt and finished my dinner in the dark. My Frooti tetrapack straw rolled away in the dark and so I ingeniously used my hairpin to make a hole and sip out the mango juice. After which I slept peacefully.  I don’t remember the rest of the journey as being unpleasant either.

3. Around a year back, our family was driving home after church and I thought I saw something drop from the scooter which was going a little ahead of us.  We were separated by many other two wheelers who didn’t stop to alert them. Not very sure whether something dropped or not…we anyway decided to race up to them and confirm. It took us a good 3 or 4 minutes to catch up and signal them to stop at the sides. They did reluctantly – an old man and his daughter. She immediately confirmed that an important document in a plastic cover is missing – but before she could turn to retrieve, the old man gave us a shocker.  In a very disappointed and thankless tone, he said in the distinct upper caste Tamil lingo, “Couldn’t you have told us a little earlier”?

4. My mother once told me that when she walked in a particular street in her village – the upper caste woman who lived in that street used to stand in front of her house and shout ‘othadi, othadi’ (move away) when she saw  my mother and other such people using the street. This was to ensure that they did not go too close to her entrance doorway!

5. Over the years, I have read Indian English short stories (I ignored Tamil Literature till recently) that were ruthlessly transparent about caste atrocities. But they were just stories I read – even Bayen by Mahasweta Devi did not trigger me. I was not affected directly and we were anyway only appreciating the literary contribution.

6. Yes, I have seen headlines and statistics about untouchablitiy and victims harassed to death. I have seen a couple of Tamil movies that touched upon the topic here and there along with their comedy tracks.

7. Some months ago, I was sharing tips with my maid who helps me in the cooking and cleaning. She is a widow who was severely abused by her husband, slightly deaf in one ear, superstitious, sincere and hardworking. She has migrated to the city with three children and life goes on. She belongs to a ‘low caste’.  I happened to mention that beef when cooked in a particular manner is very tasty.   She was aghast.  She took two steps backward away from me in my already small kitchen.  She exclaimed – “Oh my God, do you eat beef?” her body wrenched and her face distorted – she added, “I didn’t know that. How disgusting” she finished.

8. I have heard a very funny story too.  One of my grandfathers was a firebrand. The upper caste people in his village did not allow others to draw water from the only well in the village.  So after repeated squabbles over the use of water – he masterminded and executed the following deed.  One night he mixed human and other available faeces and threw the mighty mixture into the well in dispute!!  Apparently the war was won. The water was potable after many moons.

I urge readers to see the pattern in these incidents and memories, to acknowledge the fault lines in the upper caste attitude, the feeling of upper-casteness in anyone who has even one caste below them, the naïve stupidity we exhibit by accepting bad behaviour as natural, the feigned ignorance and stoic apathy of those who have escaped the caste disadvantages.  These recounted details have not in any way stopped me from achieving a good life. I am blessed and lucky?

So what am I supposed to do now? I live a comfortable life.  I have many upper caste friends whose friendship I cherish.  When I looked out for a school for my children I made sure that there are decent people there (decent means a combination of caste and class). The sad truth is that the caste system has been so cleverly designed and propitiated that even the so-called low caste members mete out the same treatment to those castes that are perceived to be slightly lower than them! And if we successfully escape ‘caste’ claws, we rapidly fall prey to the ‘class’ claws.

I am aware – but what am I supposed to do? Why am I turning a blind eye to the people still suffering from caste related issues?  Why do I give more importance to global warming, animal rights etc.? I do not want to hate or curse. I want a future, a hope.  I do not want to dig up the past.  But will such idealistic thinking lead anywhere?  What with the upper caste’s clear dominance in today’s world.  I know for sure that in the corporate world and the giant IT companies, the top positions are for them.  The powerful ‘media’ that have gained acceptance, readership and viewer ship are definitely owned and run by the upper castes.  Whatever is praised as classical, heritage, culturally significant and praiseworthy here in South India almost always bears the upper caste mark.

Should I keep remembering the fact that some of my ancestors were not even allowed to cover their breasts in front of upper caste persons? Many of them were ill-treated for wanting to be educated. What about the fact that lower caste people are still (i.e. in 2011) denied basic rights in many regions of India.  Then, I should also remember that there were shining stars from the upper caste such as Mahakavi Bharathiar, who challenged his own community and its injustices. Where are the new Bharathiar’s? Are there no more Kamaraj’s?  All everyone wants to be is a Tata Birla Ambani Mallya.

Will an equitable society be possible with our children studying in city schools that are caste or class conscious? Schools which are not conscious are either hopelessly expensive or hopelessly poor quality.
I am no activist but I do not wish to be passivist either. What am I supposed to do?

- Rhoda Alex

P.S.  Happy to add that my maid and I have reconciled. She confessed later that she has tasted pork.
P.P.S.  If you have the time, read this interesting free online book. This book is not about caste and was written in 1914 .
P.P.P.S.  There is one more incident in my poorly maintained blog, if you have the appetite for more ramblings. It even led me to do further research!

Rhoda Alex, contrary to what the name may suggest, is a Tamilian from India. She is a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour and a freelance communication design consultant.

A day in the life of…

Students of the English and Foreign Languages University, Hyderabad, profiled university employee T. Jyothi for a wall-magazine on caste that was functional in 2008. It is also online here.

Name: Mrs. T Jyoti
Age: 41
Native town: a village in Warangal
Current residence: Hamal Basti

Jyoti’s day begins at 4 a.m. when her eyes open although it is about five by the time she gets out of bed. She cooks for the family and walks fifteen minutes to a private residence where she works as a domestic servant from 7 to 8 a.m. She then reaches EFLU where she spends most of her day, sweeping the grounds until 5 p.m. She admits that recently, her work has considerably increased. When her shift ends, she heads back to the private residence to finish another hour of chores before heading home by 6. Jyoti says she enjoys working so much so that she takes up work in other people’s houses even on weekends.

Once home, Jyoti cleans up the house and cooks for her family. She feels grateful to have children who help her in her work. She has two daughters and one son. She finds her son to be the most obedient, an unusual occurrence in her basti. Jyoti hopes to get him married some day although she proudly refuses to ask for dowry for his wedding, even though it has been a part of their family tradition. But she worries about her two daughters, for whom she’ll have to arrange Rs. 2 lakhs each, for their weddings.

As such, her family has had to face issues of debt in the past as well. Jyoti’s husband being a daily wage earner, his income is subject to availability of work and when he finds it, he earns about Rs. 150/- a day. However, since he is now suffering from diabetes, blood pressure and asthma, his income has become more irregular due to which Jyoti has had to take up the mantle of being the main breadwinner of the family.

Keen on sending her children to a private school, Jyoti had to constantly take loans to pay for their fees, uniforms and books. She is still repaying those debts and sometimes, things get rough. Jyoti recalls how they had to live in the dark for five whole years as they could not afford to pay their monthly electricity bills which amount to Rs. 300/- a month.

One of her few recreations is attending Sunday mass with her family every week. If she finds time, she visits her mother and sisters who live nearby her basti. Jyoti also has a cable connection at home and likes watching some Telugu serials. As a child she used to love watching films although not so much anymore. Speaking of Chiranjeevi’s daughter, she doesn’t approve of love marriage and feels confident that she will arrange the marriage for all her children. After all, as she says, would girls who go in for love marriages respect their mother-in-laws and vice- versa?

For now however, she wants her children to finish their education. Her son Kiran is currently studying engineering while her two daughters, Shailaja and Aruna have finished XII and IX respectively. Jyoti herself never made it past Standard II. As a child, she was never interested in studying. She confesses that she cannot comment on whether her teachers were good or bad, but she was frightened of being beaten when she did not do her homework. Moreover, none of her friends were interested in studying. She was married off at the age of 17 and she now lives with her husband and three children. Though none of her children are interested in studies, Jyoti now understands the value of education. This realization dawned on her when she learnt that a student of EFLU was paid only Rs 5000/- as a starting salary after completing her Ph.D. Looking at such state of affairs faced by the educated, Jyoti fears the future condition of her children. She has therefore kept all her children in school and in fact, has recently enrolled herself into a basic English proficiency course offered by EFLU students for workers.

Jyoti is not completely oblivious to the political developments happening in AP. She often listens to the news while cooking. She is aware of the past and present CM and also the MLA of her constituency. She has even voted a few times in her life. She belonged to the Madiga caste which has traditionally been the caste of cobblers and house servants, before her ancestors chose to become Christians. Unfortunately she has not yet got her SC certificate probably because the government has refused to accord this status to converts.

T.Jyoti is an employee at EFLU for the last 20 years. She joined in 1984 as a house keeper and now works as a sweeper. Much to her happiness, she has recently been made a permanent employee which has increased her monthly wage to a respectable Rs. 5000/-

 

- From the Out-Caste blog

Plain Speaking: A Sudra’s Story

Excerpts follow from Plain Speaking: A Sudra’s Story by A.N. Sattanathan, edited by Uttara Natarajan (Permanent Black, 2007).  Growing up in abject poverty-his very name, as he tells it in Chapter 6 of the memoirs, was acquired as a means of currying patronage. A.N. Sattanathan had a distinguished career in the All-India Services. In 1969, he was appointed Chairman of the first Tamilnadu Backward Classes Commission and made a lasting impact on the state’s policy of affirmative action. He wrote his memoirs in 1958, covering the period from his birth in 1905 till his second job in 1928.

In the light of recent attempts to reassess the role of Christianity in the struggle against caste, sections describing the impact of the missionaries have been included. From book division I : An Exercise in Biography (1958), Experiments with Schools p. 33 onwards

…

All craftsmen and artists in India in those early decades of the century had an abhorrence for making their profession hereditary, strange as it may seem. Every father, however eminent he may have been in his particular craft of art – be he a good goldsmith, mason, locksmith, or musician – wanted his son to get a smattering of an English education and to become a holder of a Government job.  The attraction of a Government job in Travancore in those days was irresistible. Even a peon or a police constable was regarded as highly respectable. It was the beginning of the breakdown of the occupational basis of the caste system. The social taboos and stratification according to birth showed no signs of a decline, but there was a flight from hereditary avocations. To become a clerk or a sub-inspector of police was the height of ambition. Many fathers spent their hard-earned savings to educate their sons, so that they might become clerks in government offices. They might be indifferent clerks, making far less money than their fathers as masons or carpenters, but the fathers wanted to see their sons dressed in shirt and coat and sitting in an office chair.

My father, experiencing as he had poverty in all its manifestations and the taboos of caste and caste professions, wanted to see that I became a Matriculate and a Government servant.

…

My sister’s wedded home, as we call it, was in a village about 12 miles away from ours. It had a big Christian population and a mission school where English was taught from the earlier standards. Father thought I should go to this school and be looked after by my sister and her husband. So before I was eight, during the middle of the school year, I was transplanted to this Christian mission school in Surandai.

Surandai was a twin-village. The Christian converts had moved out from the main village during the course of the years, and with the help of the mission, built another village about a mile to the east. Most of the houses were tile-roofed, as distinct from the thatched huts in the original village. The missionaries – Indian and European – had small Bungalows. There was a school and an impressive church. The new village came to be known as ‘Bungalow Surandai’ and was the pride of the Christian community for miles around.

In those days, the members of a particular caste – toddy-tapping being their hereditary profession – were converted to Christianity in large numbers. They got free education and the educated young men and women had no difficulty in getting suitable employment in Government departments and in educational institutions. The women trained in nursing were rapidly filling up the hospitals. Indian Christian women were the first to take up nursing as a career. A community which was regarded as backward was soon in the forefront of advancement as soon as they changed their religion. It was due to the interest taken by European missionaries and the active support they received from the Government and the European civil servants who were all-powerful in those days. Soon, from the Christian villages in the District of Tinnevelly, there went out all over the state, doctors, lawyers, teachers and nurses. Their new-won prosperity was reflected in their parent villages where the older people lived while men and women of the younger generation were out in Madras and in distant towns, earning comfortable livings owing to the benefits of missionary education.

The village of Bungalow Surandai could boast even then of several graduates and doctors and teachers. It had a clean, healthy, prosperous appearance and the school was the central show-piece. It had extensive playgrounds and shady avenues of trees, and the atmosphere was conducive to education. The teachers were Christian converts, and some of them were really gifted men indeed.

To this school came many pupils from many neighbouring villages. The school was partly residential, but the facilities for boarding and lodging it provided were not taken advantage of by the non-Christian students, though there was no restriction against them. Some boys walked four and five miles from their villages, morning and evening, carrying a little packet of cooked rice with them for the midday repast. Brahman boys also attended the school, though orthodoxy in the villages in those days was very severe. But orthodox or otherwise, they were quick to take advantage of educational facilities wherever they were available. Brahman boys on returning from school used to remove their school clothes and keep them apart in an outside apartment and enter the house only after a purifying bath.

…

Related reading from The Hindu: An interview with the author with additional excerpts from the book.

Excerpts from Karukku

via the Shared Mirror

Translated from the Tamil original by Lakshmi Holmstrom. Karukku is the autobiography of writer Bama. This book became required reading in seminaries after its eloquent denunciation of the practice of caste inside the church.

Nowadays, now that I have left the order, I am angry when I see priests and nuns. Until I actually entered the convent, I truly did not understand their approach nor any of their procedures. It was only after my sojourn with them that I understood the lack of humanity in their piety. They speak in an empty way of devotion, renunciation, the Holy Spirit, God’s vocation, poverty, chastitye and obedience; they lead lives which remind me only of Pharisees, Sadducees and High Priests who appear in the Bible. If Jesus were to appear today he would question them much more sharply and severely than he did before. And even if he were to do so, I am not sure whether they will understand.

When I look at the Church today, it seems to be a Church made up of the priests and nuns and their kith and kin. And when you consider who they are, it is clear that they are all from upper castes. They are the ones who are in the positions of power. Yet when you consider the Christian people as a whole, most of them are lowly people, and Dalits. These few assume power, control the dispossessed and the poor by thrusting a blind belief and devotion upon them by turning them into slaves in the name of God, while they themselves live in comfort. [.....]

What kind of piety can this be? They make themselves into gods so that they can exploit others. So where has God gone? The so-called gods walking about here are the pri ests and nuns and their relations; no other.

How long will they deceive us, as if we are innocent children, with their Pusai and their Holy Communion, their rosary and their novena? Children, growing up, will no longer listen to everything they are told, open mouthed, nodding their heads. Dalits have begun to realize the truth. [....]

Dalits have learnt that these others have never respected them as human beings, but bent the religion to their benefit, to maintain their own falsehoods. But Dalits have also understood that God is not like this, has not spoken like this. They have become aware that they too were created in the likeness of God. There is a new strength within them, urging them to reclaim that likeness which has been so far repressed, ruined, obliterated; and to begin to live again with honour, self-respect and with love towards all humankind. To my mind, this alone is true devotion.

- Bama