Unable to swallow, unwilling to throw up

November 17, 2010 1:52:37 PM

Chandan Mitra

Caught in a cusp between old and new worlds, India’s interface with caste remains schizophrenic 60 years after adopting a republican Constitution

Three events last week painfully underlined the complex matrix of caste in Indian politics and society. First, the Government succumbed to combined Opposition pressure and agreed to enumerate citizens by caste in the ongoing Census operations. Second, DMK patriarch M Karunanidhi, having run out of all weapons in his armoury to defend the brazen actions of Telecom Minister A Raja, came up with the astounding theory that the Minister was under attack from “vested interests” only on account of his Dalit origins. Third, the mysterious death of a young Delhi journalist at her parental home in Jharkhand, apparently because she wanted to marry her lower caste boyfriend, jarred enlightened sensibilities throughout the country.

Thousands of years after the sub-system of caste emerged out of the original Varna system, and more than 60 years after we gave ourselves a democratic, republican Constitution pledging equality to all citizens, India is still to come to grips with this unique social construct. Over time, it has acquired new dimensions and ramifications: Some would argue that past oppression of the lower orders has been replaced by the tyranny of numbers, painting the ritually superior sections into a corner. At the same time, mediaeval orthodoxy coexists almost in perfect harmony with modern, legally ordained directives. For example, a draconian law has been written into the statute books to severely punish those committing atrocities on Scheduled Castes, but that does not prevent upper caste landlords from wreaking terrible vengeance on ‘defiant’ Dalits and their families. Mostly, they get away with it, even in Uttar Pradesh ruled by a Dalit woman.

The case of Nirupama Pathak, the journalist allegedly killed by her mother (although the story is undergoing new twists every day) would seem particularly bizarre. Here is an educated family, headed by a nationalised bank officer father, which sends their daughter to study and practice journalism in faraway Delhi. There she develops a relationship with a classmate and they apparently decide to get married. The boy belongs to a ritually inferior caste, which incidentally counts among the so-called Forwards in North India. But such is the orthodoxy of the Brahmin girl’s family that they refuse her permission to marry and, allegedly, smother her to death or (if new speculation is to be believed) push her into committing suicide. The family’s outrage at the idea of inter-caste marriage is documented in a long, hectoring letter from the father to his daughter in which he quotes scripture and verse to establish the immorality of such a union.

I could not believe my ears when, during a TV discussion on a Hindi news channel last week, an obscurantist pandit kept reading out Sanskrit texts and Manu Smriti to denounce inter-caste marriage per se and the marriage of a Brahmin to a lower caste in particular. He ventured to declare all such union to be against Sanatan Dharma and, therefore, illegal. For me, this was especially galling as, coincidentally, I happen to be a Kayasth, the same caste as Nirupama’s boyfriend, while my wife is a Brahmin. The ostensibly learned pandit has a right to his views even if they fly in the face of the Constitution and borders on advocacy of social apartheid. I also agree that most marriages in India are arranged by parents, ensuring the partner belongs to the same caste. Just as they can choose a match for their children, the latter too have the right to marry of their own choice under the law provided they are adults. And such marriages cannot be derided as immoral, illegal, irreligious or invalid. Those who prevent it are criminals in the eyes of the law and should face prosecution. But in schizophrenic India, caught in a prolonged cusp between the old and the new, this would be too much to expect. So Nirupama’s isn’t the first such case, nor will it be the last.

Over the years, caste has also acquired new political uses, evident from the way the Tamil Nadu Chief Minister handled the tornado of corruption charges engulfing ‘service provider’ A Raja. If we logically extend his argument that the Minister is being targeted only because he is a Dalit, we shall be forced to reach the conclusion that laws of the land should not be applicable to members of a particular caste or community. The day may not be far off when there will be a demand to insert the following clause at the end of the Indian Penal Code, Criminal Procedure Code, Prevention of Corruption Act and other relevant statues: “Notwithstanding anything contained in the above Schedules, none of the provisions of this Act shall be applicable to members belonging to the following castes/communities...”!

It is remarkable how quickly politicians, when cornered on charges of graft, misuse of office and other forms of criminal misappropriation of authority slip into invoking caste in their defence. When The Pioneer conducted a relentless campaign to expose the misdeeds of the arrogant, authoritarian and venal former Health Minister Anbumani Ramadoss, he too shot back saying, “I am being targeted because I am OBC”!

Invariably, they all accuse the media of being dominated by upper castes and thus motivated by vengeful feelings towards OBCs and Dalits. Not for a moment does it cross their mind that Independent India’s biggest media success was on the Bofors scam in which the principal accused was the son of a Kashmiri Pandit mother and Parsi father — by no stretch of the imagination Dalit or OBC. The media’s latest victim is Mr Shashi Tharoor, neither Dalit nor OBC. India’s vibrant media has been completely even-handed in exposing corruption in high places. Mr Karunanidhi, Mr Raja or Mr Ramadoss may not believe this, but in the national media we hardly know which caste they belong to unless it is voluntarily disclosed.

In this background it hardly comes as a surprise that there was near-unanimity among political parties for inserting caste into Census enumerations. Long before the results are disclosed next year, I can confidently predict that there will be a huge spurt in the numbers declaring themselves as OBC. Many people do not know that the British Indian Government had to reject the findings of the 1941 Census after the enumeration process was completed because of the false claims entered by people regarding their caste and mother tongue.

Held in the backdrop of the Muslim League’s Pakistan Resolution of 1940, there was a concerted attempt by Muslims to enter Urdu as their mother tongue although most did not know what the script looked like. Similarly Hindus in Punjab determinedly averred that Hindi, not Punjabi, was their mother tongue. Further, the influence of Sanskritisation (as described by sociologist MN Srinivas) was at its peak at that time; castes now called OBCs randomly claimed upper caste, especially Rajput, status then. When officers started tabulating the figures they found statistically impossible spurts to have taken place in certain linguistic and caste categories. Eventually they recommended scrapping the Census altogether. I hope the same fate does not await the Census of 2011.

http://www.dailypioneer.com/254481/Unable-to-swallow-unwilling-to-throw-up.html