This opinion piece on the Print’s website lays out a familiar argument about shifting academic focus towards Indic heritage against excessive hagiographic obeisance at the altars of ‘western’ scholarship. But apart from the standard diatribes, the name Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan jumped out for me.
Where are the Radhakrishnans of our time?
YouTube link
This is a video of a Adivasi dance. I watch it often. One of my partners (late) looks like the tall woman on the left.  The video
My partner Kumari of about 10 years passed before she got to 50. Diabetic complications
Her name Dona Chitrangani Sri Kumari
Sri Kumari another name for Kali.
Name was given because her parents made a vow at Muneshwaram Kovil to Kali get a child.
Her parents were killed by the LTTE when she was about 14 (1990 or so). When Kumari and I came here to this village, it was only then Kumari realized her parents had been killed by the LTTE nearby
Kumari was tall for a Sri Lankan woman, about 5’7″
[Note: I have absolutely no issue with Sairav moderating his posts the way he sees fit–this is the right of all BP authors. However, he doesn’t have the right to cast aspersions on other authors. Comments from others that I’ve “faked my degrees” are also ridiculous. I frankly have no interest in interacting with Sairav so you all are free to discuss among yourselves. Similarly, I will be deleting any comments Sairav makes on my posts.]
From my Substack:
This review originally appeared on The South Asian Idea in June 2017.Â
Ever since The God of Small Things was published to great acclaim in 1997, Arundhati Royâs fans have been eagerly awaiting her next novel. It was a long waitâtwo decadesâas Roy transitioned from being a novelist to being an activist and a non-fiction writer. Now, the wait has finally ended with the publication of The Ministry of Utmost Happiness.
The novel focuses on several characters, most of whom are outcasts from the new rising India. They include a hijra named Anjum, a Kashmiri separatist (or freedom fighter) named Musa and Tilottama, the Malayali woman who loves him. Over the course of the novel, these disparate characters encounter one another and their stories intersect, sometimes in surprising ways.
Much of the novel is set in the Kashmir Valley during the 1990sâat the height of the insurgency against the Indian stateâviewed by many Kashmiris as an occupying force. Musaâs wife and daughter are killed in crossfire between the Indian Army and Kashmiri militants. Tilo herself is harshly interrogated by the Indian Army and is only let go because of her connections to an old college friend, who is high up in the Intelligence Bureau. In this section of the novel, Roy evocatively describes the brutality of life in Kashmir and the impact it has on those on both sides of the ideological struggle.
Those who have followed Royâs non-fiction will find many resonances in this novel. Asides from the Kashmir conflict, the plot touches on rising Hindutva, the Maoist struggle in the forests of central India, and Dalit assertion against upper-caste violence. One consequence of such a large canvas is a certain fracturing of the narrative. For example, when the narrative moves to Kashmir, Anjum has to be abandoned in Delhi. Although Roy convincingly brings the characters together at the end, there is a sense of disconnect while reading the story. Continue reading The Ministry of Utmost Happiness: A Look into the Underbelly of Modern India
In the rankings of major Indian states based on per capita income, UP and Bihar have been occupying the last two places for quite a while. Their per capita incomes are approximately half and one third of the national average, which has sparked considerable discussion lately. While most people focus on usual suspects like overpopulation and corruption, some argue that the absence of coastlines also plays a significant role. This idea has appeared in this blog several times, and I will offer my two cents.
On the surface, the argument seems reasonable, given that both Bihar and UP are non-coastal states and many coastal states are doing extremely well. However, a closer look reveals a lack of empirical evidence to support this claim. To begin with, the correlation between higher per capita income and having a coastline is relatively new. Back in 1990, of the eight major coastal states, only Maharashtra was performing exceptionally well. Gujarat was above average, while Karnataka, Kerala, Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, and Bengal were either average or slightly below. Orissa, on the other hand, was quite poor. This suggests that it was economic liberalization, rather than the mere presence of coastlines, that primarily fueled the growth in South India.
The correlation between coastal status and economic performance appears even more spurious when we examine other non-coastal states. There are eight large non-coastal states with populations exceeding 20 million, excluding UP and Bihar. Their combined per capita income is almost same as the national average. In fact, two of these states, Telangana and Haryana, rank among the top three. If being landlocked is indeed such a significant disadvantage, why doesnât it similarly impact these other non-coastal states?
Letâs explore the coastline related industries further. India’s blue economy, which includes sectors like coastal tourism, fisheries, shipping, and offshore energy, constitutes only about 4 percent of the countryâs GDP. Given that coastal states account for 55 percent of Indiaâs GDP, itâs evident that coastlines aren’t as impactful economically as one might assume. The transport sector in India represents roughly 5 percent of the GDP, but a significant part of this involves passenger and local freight transport. The part consisting of transport between port and non-coastal states is relatively small, and the extra burden is equivalent to a tax of less than 5 percent on all imported or exported goods.
So one could probably argue that if UP and Bihar were coastal, their per capita incomes might be 5-10 percent higher. However, this doesnât change the big picture.
Why do BJP and Narendra Modi keep winning? Why do Congress and Rahul Gandhi keep losing?: Yogendra Yadav, National Convenor, Bharat Jodo Abhiyan, a former political analyst & psephologist, answers in an interview to Karan Thapar
Also adding this video (in Hindi):
Since we are discussing caste, this post from my Substack seems relevant. This review was originally published on “The South Asian Idea” in January 2018.Â
One of the frequent topics of debate among those interested in South Asia is the caste system and whether it is unique to Hinduism or features in other South Asian religions as well. Hindu society has traditionally been divided into four castes (or varnas): Brahmins (priests), Kshatriyas (rulers, administrators and warriors), Vaishyas (merchants and tradesmen), and Shudras (artisans, farmers and laboring classes). A fifth group consists of those who do not fit into this hierarchy at all and are considered âuntouchableâ. What separates caste from other systems of social stratification are the aspects of purity and ascribed status. Upper-castes consider lower castes to be âimpureâ and have rigid rules about the kind of social interaction they can have with them. For example, upper castes will not accept food from those of a lower caste, while lower castes will accept food from those above them. Caste status is also ascribed at birth and has nothing to do with an individualâs achievements. A Brahmin peasant remains a Brahmin while an âuntouchableâ engineer is still an âuntouchableâ. This system persists in India today, though the government does provide affirmative action in order to uplift members of âbackwardâ castes.
Coming from a Pakistani background, I was not familiar with the operation of the caste system in daily life. Though Pakistan is a highly socially stratified society, this system has no religious sanction. In Islam, all believers are considered equal in the eyes of Allah. Unlike in India, where until recently, âuntouchablesâ could not go into several temples, all social classes pray together in the same mosques. This fact is highlighted in one of the famous couplets from Allama Iqbalâs poem âShikwaâ (the complaint) which states: âEk hi saf mein khare ho gaye Mahmood-o-Ayaz/ Na koi banda raha aur na koi banda nawazâ (Mahmood the king and slave Ayaz, in line as equals stood arrayed/ The lord was no more lord to slave: while both to the One Master prayed). At least in religious terms, one Muslim is not better than any other, no matter what his social status. Of course, this does not mean that social stratification ceases to exist. To this day, rich Pakistani families have separate utensils in their homes which are to be used by the servants. Punjabi Christians who engage in janitorial work are still known as âchuhrasâ, a derogatory reference to their pre-conversion caste status as âuntouchablesâ. However, unlike the Hindu caste system, social class in Pakistan is not based on ascribed status. If someone from a low socio-economic background attains an education and a well-paying job, he or she will no longer be treated as belonging to their previous socioeconomic group. This is a major difference from India, where oneâs caste remains salient, no matter oneâs economic status.
A first hand account of caste in India is given in Sujatha Gidlaâs recent book âAnts Among Elephants: An Untouchable Family and the Making of Modern Indiaâ. Gidla was born into an âuntouchableâ family in the southern Indian state of Andra Pradesh. Through the story of her ancestors, she presents a portrait of India from the end of British rule to the 1990s. It is particularly interesting to note that while her family is Christian (a religion in which there is technically no caste), they are still considered âuntouchableâ in Hindu society. Gidla writes: âChristians, untouchablesâit came to the same thing. All Christians in India were untouchables, as far as I knew (though only a small minority of all untouchables are Christian.) I knew no Christian who did not turn servile in the presence of a Hindu. I knew no Hindu who did not look right through a Christian man standing in front of him as if he did not exist. I accepted this. No questions askedâ (Gidla 5). Caste is so pervasive in India that it applies even to those groups whose religions formally believe in equality. Continue reading Ants Among Elephants: A Portrait of Untouchability in India
In the never-ending saga of BP, we may have just hit one of the more outlandish claims:
âLike I said, Iâm not defending his comments. I wouldnât have made them.
Regardless of any provocation, calling someone âsubhumanâ and âneanderthalâ is not onâespecially when those words are used by a Brahmin. Itâs casteist.â
Iâm fully in favour of interrogating caste. But the idea that the twice-born must exercise an extra layer of self-censorship before using a generic insult is excessive. An insult is an insult; attaching caste-specific moral disclaimers to ordinary online behaviour doesnât clarify anything. It just adds ritual guilt where none is needed.
I support the critique of caste bias, but my fundamental sympathies are with Dharmic civilisation; precisely because Dharma is pluralistic enough to allow a hundred flowers to bloom. That pluralism should extend to how we discuss caste, not collapse into moral policing tied to someoneâs birth category.
Dear all,
With everything going on in the last 48 hours, we wanted to send a short note to everyone directly. BP has sputtered back to life in the past year, and with that revival comes all the familiar subcontinental pathologies: everyone believes theyâre right, everyone believes moderation is biased, and everyone believes someone else is being unfair. In that sense, BP is working exactly as it always has.
We want to restate something very clearly: we’re not going to run a hyper-moderated blog. It takes too much time, too much energy, and, crucially, it’s an unfunded mandate. Nothing is more dispiriting than a dead space. Our approach has been simple and consistent:
1. Authors control their own threads.
If things escalate on your post, you shut it down when and where you see fit. Thatâs the cleanest system and the only one we can realistically sustain.
2. No bans, shadow bans, or entrapment games.
Once we go down the path of micro-policing, BP loses its character. Thatâs not the direction we want to take.
3. We do not manufacture controversy.
If anything, the only thing we are biased toward is what the audience reads and engages with. Thatâs it. Everything else is noise.
Reflections:
Some of you will have seen the recent exchanges where accusations were thrown in both directions, and where intentions were questioned. Without going into details:Â this is exactly how online political communities melt down;Â by assuming the worst in each other and by escalating minor provocations into existential battles. Itâs the same pattern we saw a couple of years ago at a public talk by Rahul Gandhi in Cambridge: someone asked a loaded, âgotchaâ question, the out of context reply went viral, people got outraged, and the whole thing became a cycle of reaction and overreaction. Weâre drifting into the same dynamic.
Letâs not.
BP works only when people post, comment, disagree, and move on. If that stops, the blog dies. And as Omarâs recent post highlighted, we want authors to write more, not less.
So our simple request is this:Â Calm down, carry on, manage your own threads, and do not fall prey to the outrage factory.
If you feel strongly about a situation, reach out; if you want more balance, we’re happy to add an additional admin to offset the load (BPâs editorial board already functions with more factions than the Lebanese Parliament); if something crosses a line, handle it on your post. But letâs not turn BP into a miniature Whitehall where everything becomes bureaucratised. Weâve done extremely well this past year. Letâs keep the energy without burning down the house.
Warmly.
Dear all,
I have not been busy elsewhere and dont get to pay much attention to the blog and unfortunately, we seem to be seeing a lot of harsh comments and blog posts and general unhappiness. I am not promising miracles (I think the comment section will remain something of a mess, but we will try to clean up even there) but I hope we can get on even keel soon. Please do stick around, we will try to make some improvements and if you are an author who has not written for a long time, please do write more so that the quality of the posts can go up..
Omar
Note: BP really needs a Bangladeshi contributor so we can get some analysis of other South Asian countries rather than interminable back and forth about India and Pakistan Â
From DAWN:
A Bangladesh court sentenced ousted Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina to death on Monday, concluding a months-long trial that found her guilty of ordering a deadly crackdown on a student-led uprising last year.
The ruling comes months ahead of parliamentary elections expected to be held in early February.
Hasinaâs Awami League party has been barred from contesting and it is feared that Mondayâs verdict could stoke fresh unrest ahead of the vote.
The International Crimes Tribunal, Bangladeshâs domestic war crimes court located in the capital Dhaka, delivered the guilty verdict amid tight security and in Hasinaâs absence after she fled to India in August 2024.
Personally, I have mixed feelings about this. Sheikh Hasina was a dictator (and arguably an Indian puppet) so I’m not particularly fond of her. She does need to pay for her crimes. However, I don’t believe in the death penalty. This step seems to be an extremely problematic one for Bangladesh.
