Bollywood, Brahmins, Parsis & WASPs:

Endogamy Is Optional When You Own the Institutions

Gaurav’s excellent piece on ā€œprogressive Dravidianismā€ pushed me to re-examine a related elite anxiety: the melodrama around intermarriage.Ā  I am happy to be corrected on any of the specifics below, especially where a claim could be tightened with better data.

The standard story goes like this. Elites marry out. Boundaries dissolve. The group dies. This story is intuitively appealing because it treats identity as if it were a biological substance. But elites are not reproduced primarily by blood. They are reproduced by property, institutions, credentials, and networks. In that world, intermarriage is rarely a solvent. It is more often a merger.

The English aristocracy understood this early, and acted accordingly. When the old landed families were cash-poor but title-rich, they did not preserve themselves by sealing the gates. They did the opposite. They married in money. The late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries produced a whole genre of ā€œdollar princesses,ā€ wealthy American heiresses who married British aristocrats, trading capital for rank. By one commonly cited compilation, between 1870 and 1914, over a hundred British aristocrats, including multiple dukes, married American women; and in the broader European set, hundreds of such transatlantic matches were recorded.Ā  This was not cultural dilution. It was institutional self-preservation by acquisition. The class survived because it treated marriage as capital strategy. Continue reading Bollywood, Brahmins, Parsis & WASPs:

Dravidian Progressivism is a Scam

Chennai, without any doubt, is one of the better cities in the country. I agree with many of the issues raised by XTM here. Along with Hyderabad, Ahmedabad, and Bangalore, Chennai continues to fare better in many aspects of life compared to Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, and even Pune.

My Experience

While I appreciated the cleanliness and infrastructure of Chennai, I cannot say I came away with the same impression as XTM. Of all the Indian cities I have visited, I found Chennai less hospitable than Ahmedabad, Hyderabad, or Delhi. Even as a fluent English speaker, I struggled to hail autos or get directions. Surprisingly, I did not face this issue in the rest of Tamil Nadu. For older Hindi speakers with limited English, the experience is even worse. The issue is not simply language, but linguistic chauvinism (also present in Karnataka and Maharashtra, though to a lesser extent). A non-Tamil speaker often looks for Muslim individuals to ask for help in Chennai.

I had a wonderful time in Mamallapuram, enjoying the Pallava ruins and the beach, thanks to a very helpful Muslim auto driver. But enough of auto-wala stories.

Culture and Politics

Without comparing cities directly, it is important to recognize that culture may play a role in Chennai’s successes. However, correlation should not be confused with causation, and credit should not be misplaced. Any link between Chennai’s well-being and Dravidianism is tenuous or purely incidental at best. While successive Tamil Nadu governments aligned with Dravidianism have been relatively successful (especially compared to the North) in providing welfare nets, what direct connection do these well-run policies have with Dravidianism?

Let us compare Tamil Nadu with the rest of India on the metric that Dravidian progressivism claims to address: CASTE

Link:

Scroll piece : Caste endogamy is also unaffected by how developed or industrialised a particular state is, even though Indian states differ widely in this aspect. Tamil Nadu, while relatively industrialised, has a caste endogamy rate of 97% while underdeveloped Odisha’s is 88%, as per aĀ study by researchers Kumudini Das, Kailash Chandra Das, Tarun Kumar Roy and Pradeep Kumar Tripathy.Ā 

Put differently: caste endogamy seems unaffected by how anti-Brahminical or ā€œprogressiveā€ a state claims to be. Tamil Nadu, the heart of the Dravidian movement, remains at below 3%, while Gujarat—often seen as Brahmanical and vegetarian—stands around 10% (15% in a 2010 study, though possibly overstated). However one frames it, Gujarat has more inter-caste marriages than Tamil Nadu.

Surprisingly, even Haryana and Punjab—traditionally associated with Khap Panchayats and honor culture—show significant inter-caste marriages, along with Gujarat, Maharashtra, Karnataka, and Kerala.

While data on Haryana, Punjab, and Goa is contested, Tamil Nadu consistently lags, whereas its neighbor Kerala consistently leads, along with Maharashtra.

Crossing from Kerala into Tamil Nadu, the difference is stark: one in five marriages in Kerala are inter-caste, compared to fewer than one in thirty in Tamil Nadu. Would it be fair to blame Dravidian politics for this? That claim has more merit than attributing Tamil Nadu’s successes to Dravidianism. Tamil Nadu ranks alongside Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, and Kashmir, while Karnataka, Kerala, and even Andhra/Telangana are far ahead.

Even Kashmir, with a 65% Muslim population, has an inter-caste marriage rate just below 2%, lower than Dravidian-ruled Tamil Nadu. So, after 500 years under a ā€œcastelessā€ religion and 100 years of ā€œprogressiveā€ Dravidianism, both Kashmir and Tamil Nadu lag behind Gujarat, Bihar, and Uttar Pradesh.

Link:

Additional Observations

This data does not fit neat narratives. I was surprised to see higher percentages of rural inter-caste marriages. Rates are negatively correlated with wealth and income (more strongly with assets such as land). Landed communities show stronger caste endogamy, for historically and pragmatically clear reasons. That Brahmins, as a group, have the highest inter-caste marriage rates is unsurprising, given how progressive (some might say deracinated) Brahmins have become in India.

One social metric where Tamil Nadu performs well is female foeticide. Tamil Nadu and Kerala are among the leading states less affected by sex-selective abortions compared to the rest of India.

Tamil Brahmins have generally been more socially aloof compared to Brahmins elsewhere in India (both anecdotally and objectively) and disproportionately occupied government posts in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Justice Party movement, which arose in response, was initially a elite-feudal project, though Periyar’s early movement (also virulently anti-Brahmin) was more inclusive of Dalits and non-dominant castes. Over time, while retaining its anti-Brahmin rhetoric, the movement became a proxy for domination by landed and wealthy communities. Dravidianism today (or perhaps always) resembles what it claimed to oppose—Brahmanism. The dominant elites have simply shifted from Brahmins and the British to others who hold power today. Hatred alone does not create positive change.

It seems Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh understood the incentives for reform, while Tamil Nadu did not.

Anecdotes or caste violence are often dismissed when praising the Dravidian model of social progressivism. Comparative caste violence data is brushed aside under claims of underreporting or lack of Dalit assertion in other regions. But caste endogamy cannot be ignored. If anything that truly encapsulates Caste is endogamy.

Post Script:

Tamil politicians, both DMK and AIADMK, have run better governments in terms of welfare, industrialization, and infrastructure, and they deserve credit for that. However, linking these achievements to culture may not be wise. Geography is a more convincing explanation.

 

The evolving understanding of varNa in Indian history

This post is triggered by some posts from XTM in the past and some discussions on the BP whatsapp group.

This is not a referenced essay but more of a summary of my evolving position on the history jAti and varNa. I am neither a history or genomics scholar and this is an essay of a reasonably well informed layperson who has gone deep in the speculative prehistory of Indian subcontinent.Ā 

The first thing to note is the difference between jAti and VarNa.

jAti is a endogamous population – maps on to English word Caste. Identity into a jAti is a lived reality for billion Indians.

varNa is a hierarchical abstraction which is presented in Vaidik texts which does and doesn’t always map neatly on to thousands of jAti groups. I would wager that varNa mattered for the Brahmanas and at times to the Kshatriyas as their jAtis map neatly on respective varNas.Ā 

This post will focus on varNa, I will cover jAti in some other post briefly.

For a bit more on jAti: Early Hinduism – the epic stratification – Brown Pundits

on varNa:

During the composition of the į¹›gvedaĀ the priests and the warriors were the prime movers of the Arya society hence designated Brahmanas and Rajanyas. This bifurcation is common among a lot of society where the physical and spiritual power is owned by different elites who in a sense rule the society. These two communities were to become two Arya varNAs. The third varNa called the Vaishyas were originally the remaining people. The word Vaisya comes from Vish which means people. So all farmers, craftsman, artisans etc would come under the word Vaisya initially. This much can be asserted with certain degree of confidence.

The origin is the fourth varNa – Shudras is not as crystal clear but its safe to bet that initially the outsiders (non Arya) were called Shudras. The word is used to denote someone who doesn’t follow the proper Arya rituals at places or someone who is a defeated enemy or someone who is a labourer. So as Arya communities were forming during the early Vaidik period after the collapse of Harappan civilization, the outsiders who were defeated and assimilated were termed Shudras. This label also applied to populations outside the core Vaidik area who were kings and rulers in their own right in complex pastoral and farmingĀ  societies. The cultures of Deccan and Peninsular India at this time would also fall in this bracket (precursors to speakers of Dravidian languages of today).

Aryavarta (Land of the Aryas) expanded mimetically through lavish sacrifices and tall poetic tales (later Epics). Instead of building complex structures, the Rajanya class (later Kshatriyas) from the core Indo-Gangetic region (Aryavarta), focussed their wealth on conducting extravagant sacrifices (Yajnas) like Asvamedha and Rajasuya to assert their strength. The template was set by Vaidik Rajanyas and slowly people outside the core Vaidik area began to emulate their peers. Non Arya rulers invited priests to conduct spectacular sacrifices to rival the Rajanyas. These Non Aryas were gradually assigned the Kshatriya varNa along with the original Rajanyas. I would wager that priests from non Arya cultures were assimilated into the Brahmanas.Ā Those from outside who didn’t keep their power became the Shudras. But this designation also was by no means settled.

Every now and then we have Shudra monarchs especially in the Eastern and Southern part of the subcontinent. Its worth noting that even thought a dynasty may be of Shudra origins, they likely re-wrote their histories once they attained power. Some of these rulers claim to have conducted even grander sacrifices than the Kshatriyas 1.0 and 2.0. Conversely, Kshatriyas and Vaishyas who lost their power or wealth might have lost their varNa.

a-varNa

(Co-Pilot wouldn’t help me with a representative image as its termed offensive)

Even now a vast number of people were outside this matrix of abstract varNa and secular Kshatra. As AryaVarta continued to expand it encountered the people on the margins. The template of absorbing the elites into the elite varNas would slow down eventually. Every now and then the outsiders would not be integrated into the varNas but remain outside as a-varNas. When this became happening is debatable but its safe to assume that around the time of Manu smriti, Arya-Varta had a significant proportion of a-Varna population. Over time ritual status was assigned to the outsiders and they became the untouchables.

I think this practice evolved like slavery as suppling an eternal supply of low cost labor (especially for dirty tasks). The a-varNa need to be distinguished from the Shudras who could accumulate wealth and status. So it could be a combination of (a) tribes whose professions were deemed unclean (b) defeatedĀ  people forced to do unclean professions or probably a combination of both.

Another group of people were to remain outside the Arya social system, the tribals. But it would be unfair to club the tribal communities with a-varNa. Tribal people had wide range of experience of interactions with the mainstream from domination and competition to servitude. Some tribes may have been absorbed into the a-varNa groups but that is not a generic template.

The varNa fluidity:

As Merchant guilds began becoming powerful around the times of Mahajanapadas, the Vaishya Varna began to become more associated with the Merchant class. Artisans, farmers and ordinary soldiers began to be associated with Shudra varNa. Today its quite common to associate the Vaishya varNa with traders and merchants but it wasn’t always so.

Similarly its quite possible that some a-varNa clans could lose their shackles but its fair to assume that this fluidity kept reducing in the common era. Last thousand years the varNas have not been fluid – especially for the a-varNas.

The Ossification:

I have written an entire blogpost on why the jAti-varNa matrix began to ossify and when.

Co-Pilot summary of this post:

The essay explores how early Hinduism’s caste stratification evolved through interactions between Vedic Brahmanical traditions and Sramana schools like Buddhism and Jainism. It argues that concepts of karma, rebirth, and dharma—emphasized by Sramanas—helped justify and ossify the Varna hierarchy, linking birth to karmic retribution. Over time, this moral dimension reinforced endogamy and rigid social divisions, especially during the Gupta era. The author speculates that pre-Aryan tribal endogamy combined with Vedic ritual purity and karmic philosophy created the uniquely enduring Jati-Varna system in India

The Kaliyug cope:

From the turn of the century, the subcontinent was always under attack from North West, Yavanas, Shakas, Kushanas, Hunas and final Arab and Turks. It is my belief (and also of some scholars) that the ideas of Kali-yug were a response to these invasions. A Yug when idealised Vaidik society was destroyed.

Islamic conquests of India began in the 7th century itself but it wasn’t till the 13th century that the entire subcontinent was touched by the crescent scimitar. While the concept of Kali-yug might be older than Islamic incursions into the subcontinent, I think they were imagined sufficiently during the Islamicate age. Some of the Brahamanas who survived (entire Shakhas of Vaidik learnings have been wiped out) saw Kaliyuga as the yuga where only 2 varNas exist – Brahmanas and Shudras. While some Kshatriya clans retained the memory of their ancestry during the Islamic time and reformulated as Rajputs, a lot of Kshatriyas and Vaishya lost the touch with their ancestry. While most of these groups have myths of their descent from Yadus or Ikshvakus, these claims did not get Brahmana (and Kshatriya) stamp of approval in the medieval times.

On psychological level one can understand this statement – Kali-yug contains only Brahmanas and Shudras as a coping mechanism opted under the yoke of Barbarians.Ā Naturally wealthy landed castes who may have descended from Kshatriyas or Vaishyas were seen as Shudras. The Kadambas, Rashtrakutas, Yadavas, Chalukyas, Cholas, Gangas, Pandyas and Cheras all claimed Kshatriya descent. If this is assumed to have some merit, its not logical to assume that all the descendants of these dynasties and their power structures went extinct. Its more likely that the elites from medieval times became the wealthy landed and mercantile elites without some deviation (on the coattails of the brits).

Brits and modernity:

The Europeans began documenting varNa with the arrival of Portuguese (Casta). But the modern understanding began to truly take shape under the British rule. I will only quote the Co-pilot summary of Nicolas Dirk’s fantastic book here.

Nicholas Dirks’ Castes of Mind argues that the modern idea of caste as India’s defining social system was largely shaped by British colonial rule. While caste existed earlier, it was more fluid and intertwined with local, regional, and occupational identities. Colonial administrators, obsessed with classification, codified caste through censuses, ethnographic surveys, and legal frameworks, turning it into a rigid hierarchy. Dirks shows how this ā€œethnographic stateā€ reified caste as the central lens for understanding Indian society, overshadowing other identities. The book highlights how colonial policies and scholarship created enduring structures that continue to influence politics and social life today.

In essence, varNa and social stratification is surely older than even the Roman colonisation of Britain, what we understand today as CasteĀ is significantly shaped by the British intervention into India. The emerging economies have offered upward mobility for some while relegating others to medieval times. In many cases, artisan communities continue to see their economic status significantly degrade with mechanisation. Present Caste identities and economical realities are much more downstream of the economic exploitation and changing economy due to industrialization than abstractions like of Dharma-Shastras.

In the theatre of Indian democracy, the first-past-the-post script ensures caste takes center stage — louder, sharper, more enduring than ever before. And as present-day passions spill backward into history, they stir the ancient pot with fresh fervor, adding new tadka to a saga already simmering with spice and strife.

 

Post Script:

I am generally liberal with comments, but i will exercise moderation for repeated stupidity on this post.

What Genetics Can, and Cannot, Explain About Caste

A recent WhatsApp exchange between GL and Sbarr captures a recurring Brown Pundits problem: how genetic data, textual tradition, and social history get collapsed into a single argument and then talk past one another. The immediate trigger was a table circulating online, showing ancestry proportions across South Asian groups; Indus Valley–related, Steppe, AASI, and East Asian components. The numbers vary by region and language group. None support purity. None map cleanly onto caste. That much is uncontroversial. What followed was not a dispute about the data itself, but about what kind of claims the data can bear.


GL’s Position (Summarised)

GL’s argument operates at three levels: historical, linguistic, and genetic.

  1. Caste as fluid history

    GL argues that the four-fold varna system hardened late. Terms like Vaishya did not always mean ā€œmerchantā€ but originally derived from viÅ›ā€”ā€œthe people.ā€ In this reading, Vaishya once referred broadly to non-priestly, non-warrior populations, including farmers and artisans.

  2. Elite religion thesis

    Early Śramaṇa movements, Buddhists, Jains, Ajivikas, are framed as elite projects. Renunciation, non-violence, and philosophical inquiry required surplus. Most people, GL argues, worshipped local deities and lived outside these doctrinal systems.

  3. Genes as complexity, not identity

    GL points out that Steppe ancestry and Y-DNA lineages are unevenly distributed. Some peasant groups show higher Steppe ancestry than some Brahmin groups. Maternal lines are largely local. The conclusion is not reclassification, but complication: caste cannot be reverse-engineered from genes. GL’s underlying claim is modest: simple caste narratives do not survive contact with deep history.


Sbarr’s Position (Summarised)

Sbarr’s objections are structural and definitional.

  1. Varna as stable social fact

    In lived Hindu society, Vaishya has meant merchant since at least the Dharmashastra period. Etymology does not override usage. Peasants were not Vaishyas. Shudras worked the land. Dalits lay outside the system.

  2. South Indian specificity

    Sbarr stresses that the North Indian varna model does not transplant cleanly into the Tamil world, where Brahmins, non-Brahmin literati, Jain monks, and Buddhist authors all contributed to classical literature. Claims of universal Brahmin authorship are rejected.

  3. Genes do not make caste

    Even if some peasant or tribal groups show Steppe Y-DNA, this does not make them Brahmins or twice-born. Genetic percentages are low, overlapping, and socially meaningless without institutions.

Sbarr’s core concern is different from GL’s: the danger of dissolving concrete social history into abstract theory.


Where the Debate Breaks Down

The argument falters because the two sides are answering different questions.

  • GL is asking: How did these categories emerge over millennia?

  • Sbarr is asking: How did people actually live, identify, and reproduce hierarchy?

Genes describe populations. Texts describe ideals. Caste describes power. None substitute for the others.


The Takeaway (Without a Verdict)

The ancestry table does not refute caste. The Manusmriti does not explain population genetics. Etymology does not override social practice. What the exchange shows, usefully, is the limit of WhatsApp as a medium for longue-durƩe history. Complex systems resist compression. When they are forced into slogans, everyone ends up defending a position they did not fully intend. That, more than Steppe percentages or varna theory, is the real lesson here.

Macaulay, English, and the Myth of Colonial Liberation

Rebuttal to When RSS-Modi Attack Macaulay and English, They Attack Upward Mobility of Dalits, Shudras, Adivasis

Follow-Up to Macaulay, Macaulayputras, and their discontents

A new orthodoxy has taken hold. It claims that criticising Macaulay or colonial education is an attack on Dalit, Shudra, and Adivasi mobility. English, we are told, was not a colonial instrument but a liberatory gift. Macaulay is recast as an unintended ally of social justice. This view is wrong. More than that, it is historically careless and civilisationally corrosive.

The Core Error

The mistake is simple: confusing survival within a system with vindication of that system. No serious person denies that English became a tool of mobility in modern India. No serious person denies Ambedkar’s mastery of English or its role in courts and constitutional politics. But to leap from this fact to the claim that Macaulay was therefore justified is a category error. People adapt to power structures to survive them. That does not sanctify those structures. To argue otherwise is like saying famine roads liberated peasants because some learned masonry while starving. Adaptation is not endorsement.

Macaulay Was Explicit

There is no need to guess Macaulay’s intentions. He stated them plainly. He dismissed Indian knowledge as inferior. He wanted to create a small class: Continue reading Macaulay, English, and the Myth of Colonial Liberation

Nehru, Privilege, and the Missed Settlement of 1947

Kabir’s defence of Nehru as the moral compass of the Indian republic reveals something deeper than nostalgia for secularism. It exposes how much of India’s founding moment was shaped by a single man whose class background insulated him from the material and psychological stakes of Partition; stakes that Gandhi, Jinnah, Bose, Ambedkar, and even Savarkar understood far more viscerally.

Nehru was unique among the major players of his era. He was the only one born into national leadership, the only one who inherited a political position, and the only one whose life had been marked not by struggle but by access. While others were shaped by jail, exile, poverty, or ideological intensity, Nehru was shaped by privilege, and privilege has its own blind spots.

This matters because 1947 was not a moment for abstract idealism. It was a moment for negotiation between communities whose elites no longer trusted one another. On that task, Nehru was the least prepared of the principal actors.


I. Nehru’s Privilege Was a Constraint, Not a Qualification

Continue reading Nehru, Privilege, and the Missed Settlement of 1947

The Unfinished Contract II: Citizenship, Partition, and the Questions Liberalism Won’t Ask

A far-right senator, Pauline Hansen, recently walked into the Australian Senate wearing a burqa. Muslim MPs (one of whom wearing a hijab) angrily called it racist, bigoted, Islamophobic. They were right. But they also dodged the underlying question: What does citizenship mean when communities fracture along religious lines?

The same evasion dominates debates about Indian Muslims after 1947. One camp says: “They stayed, they’re citizens, case closed.” The other mutters about loyalty tests and fifth columns. Both positions are intellectually lazy. Neither grapples with what Partition actually did to the social contract.

This isn’t about defending bigotry. It’s about refusing to let bigots monopolize legitimate questions.

I. The Contract That Never Closed Continue reading The Unfinished Contract II: Citizenship, Partition, and the Questions Liberalism Won’t Ask

The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947

I was speaking recently with a cousin who grew up in India. Their family has been BahĆ”’Ć­ for generations, but their older relatives once lived as Sunni merchants in Old Delhi. When they visited their grandparents as a child, they noticed something striking: in many lanes of Old Delhi, long after Independence, the sentiment was not Indian nationalism but Pakistan-leaning nostalgia. This was not hidden. It was ambient.

That single observation exposes something almost no one in Indian liberal discourse wants to say aloud: post-Partition India inherited a large Muslim population whose political loyalties were, at best, ambivalent. That is not a moral judgement. It is a historical one.

And once you notice this, a second truth becomes obvious: Kabir’s secularist vision of an emotionally unified India makes sense only in a world where 1947 never happened.

Continue reading The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947

Why Bihar Is More Than Its Stereotypes with Sagar

A calm and clear conversation with Sagar, senior staff writer at The Caravan. We speak about why Bihar is more than a broken state, how caste politics really works on the ground, and how election season gets distorted by the memification of leaders who should not be elevated in the first place. He explains the gap between lived reality and the stories told by mainstream media, the truth behind the jungle raj label, and why Bihar has been misread for so long. Tune in for a grounded look at a state that carries more history, complexity, and dignity than the usual headlines allow.

Ants Among Elephants: A Portrait of Untouchability in India

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.Ā 

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 ā€œuntouchableā€. What separates caste from other systems of social stratification are the aspects of purity and ascribed status. Upper-castes consider lower castes to be ā€œimpureā€ 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 individual’s achievements. A Brahmin peasant remains a Brahmin while an ā€œuntouchableā€ engineer is still an ā€œuntouchableā€. This system persists in India today, though the government does provide affirmative action in order to uplift members of ā€œbackwardā€ 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, ā€œuntouchablesā€ 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 Iqbal’s poem ā€œShikwaā€ (the complaint) which states: ā€œEk hi saf mein khare ho gaye Mahmood-o-Ayaz/ Na koi banda raha aur na koi banda nawazā€ (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 ā€œchuhrasā€, a derogatory reference to their pre-conversion caste status as ā€œuntouchablesā€. 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 one’s caste remains salient, no matter one’s economic status.

A first hand account of caste in India is given in Sujatha Gidla’s recent book ā€œAnts Among Elephants: An Untouchable Family and the Making of Modern Indiaā€. Gidla was born into an ā€œuntouchableā€ 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 ā€œuntouchableā€ in Hindu society. Gidla writes: ā€œChristians, untouchables—it 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 askedā€ (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

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