Understanding Caste System
A Survey of Popular Writings on Caste Violence
by Dunkin Jalki
The Confusions Caused by Stereotypes
It is these kinds of statements which S. N Balagangadhara calls stereotypes. A property that stereotypes share is that they are unquantified claims. They do not specify whether they are talking about all or some of the objects they are referring to. Some of the examples of the stereotypes are these kinds of statements: Blacks are lazy, Indians are immoral, Germans are industrious etc. Since, these statements do not specify how many Black people/Indians/Germans they are talking about, they fail to make any sense. As such, they are neither true nor false. Here is a list of the dominant stereotypes that I found in the articles and reports referred in this essay.
Dalits suffer all kinds of deprivations (they are attacked, their homes are looted and burned, their land is encroached)
Dalits are prohibited from having education (they are the least educated people in India)
Caste problem is in practice from the ancient times (the status of the Dalits has not changed for ages)
Dalit women are more marginalized
Dalits are poor (they are the low-paid workers)
Caste is a an occupation based problem
Dalits do all sorts of unclean work (scavenging, cleaning toilets, rag picking etc.)
Policy making, and politics operates along caste line
Dalits are denied basic human dignity
Dalits cannot wear nice clothes or jewelry and must take off their sandals
Dalits have to eat and drink from separate vessels in hotels
Dalits are lower in the social hierarchy
Since these statements do not specify the quantity their value as arguments gets reduced considerably. It is not clear whether these statements pick out the impression of the report writer, or refer to the data produced through the survey conducted in some specific places, say, Andhra Pradesh, or a theoretical generalization about whole of India or even Andhra Pradesh. If it is the first one, it cannot be taken seriously. Individual impressions cannot supplement a theory of caste problem in India. If it is the second one, the authors have to specify it, and also show us how it can be used as a theoretical generalization about whole of India or Andhra Pradesh. To do this, one has to primarily shun all the stereotypical statements and get down to building theories of caste system in India.
However, throughout the report such statements get repeated obfuscating the situation that it sets out to analyse. Some of the confusions that are inherent to these reports on caste violence are a result of basing one’s understanding of violence on caste stereotypes.
An unidentified person is an upper-caste person!
The Dalit Human Rights Monitor 1999-2000 (2000) prepared by Sakshi has 226 incidents, and 20 fact finding reports on atrocities committed against Dalits, between April 1999 to March 2000 (p. 13), which are supposed to dispel the following myths (pp. 8-11):
Untouchability does not exist
Caste violence is neutral
The existence of constitutional and legal provisions are successful in protecting Dalits
Civil society is an innocent bystander
Modern development will cast out caste
Education will eradicate untouchability
Contrary to its possibly universally quantified statements all that it shows in actual data is this:
Incidents of Dalit Human Rights violations
Murders: 38
Attempted murders: 01
Rapes: 26
Attempted rapes: 12
Attacks and Assaults: 68
Seizure and Destruction of property: 10
Practices of ‘untouchability’: 35
State violence (Caste discrimination in state agencies):
a. Custodial death and police brutality: 08
b. Murders, rapes, assaults, and arson committed by state agencies: 06
Considering the fact that the ‘scheduled castes’ in India comprise more than 85 per cent of its population, it is difficult to see how a mere 38 murders will account for the existence of the caste discrimination. This does not mean that one should not condemn these murders. But, since our analysis is faulty, we will never be able to even understand, leave alone solve these problems. Consequently, Dalit people will keep suffering atrocities (if they are indeed suffering atrocities), and all that we will be able to do is to repeat the useless slogans about the caste system. To add to this all these reports mention the violence committed by unidentified, and sometimes Dalits themselves against the Dalits as caste violence. Here are some examples:
“Two Dalit women, Kavali Rama Krishnamma (30 [years]) and Kavali Ankamma (35 [years]) were murdered…by unidentified persons.” (p. 22)
“An unidentified person murdered a 13-year old Dalit girl…” (p. 22)
Of 38 incidents of murders, 8 incidents are by unidentified persons. Since the report claims to be a report on caste violence, on what basis can one include such instances where the accused is an unidentified person? It is a question worth asking, what assumptions have gone into accepting all these incidents as instances of caste violence?
It is strange that, even those incidents where the people of the same (Dalit) community have involved in the incidents of violence also find place in the list of atrocities on the Dalits. And as if to justify such mistake, the author at the end of such an entry writes,
after the investigations it was learnt that all the accused [of rape case] belonged to the Schedule Caste. Thus status of the case is therefore of no relevance for the purpose of this study. (Tekchandani 1995: p. LVIII)
Unclear and inchoate causes
And in those instances of murders of Dalits where the accused is a person belonging to an ‘upper caste’, most of the time the reasons are not clear for the murder. Take for instance the following case.
An article published in the Frontline (2006, 10 February), which claims to be a report on ‘The brutal attack on a Dalit in Mansa district in Punjab’ claims that this attack ‘points to the persistence of caste violence in the State.’ The attack on Bant Singh, a 40-year-old Dalit activist is an unjustifiable act, which needs to be condemned and curbed. However, by calling it caste violence we are not going to achieve anything more, especially when the causes for the attack are either not clear or are rooted somewhere else. The article points out, that Bant Singh “had been helping organise landless labourers for the left-wing Mazdoor Mukti Morcha.” And, further quotes from a
shocked villager, Sukhdev Singh, [who] said, ‘This is the first time we have heard of a Dalit being beaten up this way. When people in Punjab get angry, or are seeking revenge, they sometimes do kill. But this assault was meant to be a warning to everyone else too.’
In such circumstances one would first suspect some political party’s interest or labourer-land owner dispute behind such an attack. However, the author of the article insists that Bant Singh’s Dalit activism is the reason behind the attack: “[T]he brutal attack points to the persistence of caste violence in Punjab, which in turn is the consequence of growing Dalit assertiveness.”
Such hasty decisions on the part of the writers writing on caste violence are commonly found in the journalistic writings. As such, piling up examples is not a very useful task. Let me give a generic example instead. The offences called ‘caste abuse’ are a good example. It is not clear what counts as an offence of ‘caste abuse’.
[M]any [students] face the humiliation every day of merit list students calling them chamar or meenagiri, references to menial tasks that their forefathers, and even fathers did. (“When dalits hear voices.” 2006, 24 September. The Times of India.)
Thus, all the cases mentioned under this title say somebody is abused by one’s caste name. However, there is no clarity on what counts as abuse in these incidents. Is it the abuse itself, or using one’s caste names? If it is the former, which no doubt should be condemned, why is it a caste issue? If it is the latter, when does use of a caste name become abusive? Obviously, the answer is when the caste names are used specifically to abuse a person it becomes an instance of untouchability. There is a problem in this definition. If we accept this logic, we cannot even use a caste name to identify a problem, as in the following instance:
A Reddy leasing out land to a Dalit will charge him higher rent than he does to a ‘higher’ caste. (Dalit Human Rights Monitor 1999-2000: p. 11).
If a student being called Chamar is a humiliation, on what grounds should we justify the use of the word Reddy? Such a use of the word Reddy to point out a biased practice of charging higher rent is justified only if we assume that all Reddy people (of the past, present and the future) have and will indulge/d in such a biased practice.
Madhava Prasad (2000) rightly points out this confusion in our understanding of caste problems in one of his articles.
[I]n its “India Matters” segment, Star News reported on the continued practice of untouchability in a part of Tamil Nadu…reporter is interviewing a labourer who says...in Tamil: “Oru kappu tee kadikkiradekashtamapochi.” A close translation of this remark would be as follows: “It is/has become difficult to get even a cup of tea.” However, the translation provided by the news programme was embellished with the insinuation of another desire, rendering the cup of tea itself immaterial. It said, “We cannot even have a cup of tea with them.” This is not so much a translation error as an ideological slip. To put it simply, the expression of a need (and the difficulty of its fulfilment) has been converted by the translator into an expression of desire. ... The labourer’s words could be interpreted as a complaint against the tea-stall owners for refusing to serve him tea, but the translator implies that he is actually more concerned about the refusal of the upper caste customers to let him share their company. To the stated object, “cup of tea” the translator adds the implied object: to have tea with “them”. The subject too has changed: the grammatical subject “it” has been replaced by the collective “we”, thereby transforming the speaker into a spokesman.
Thus, the problem is that we have transformed some genuine problems of the people in our society into caste politics. This has not only hampered our ability to find solutions to these problems but also added to the aggravation of the problem, by suggesting wrong solutions.
Two Incidents
In this section let us analyse a few randomly selected case studies to see what happens when our understanding of the violent incidents is preoccupied by unscientific assumptions.
The Dalit Human Rights Violations (2000: pp. 22-25) report enlists several incidents. One of them is, “Thrice Demolition of Dalit Temple Construction”. The incident in brief is as follows:
The injustice is that the whole village receives an income of Rs. 50,000/- per year … a major share [of it] is spent for the festival of the local deity, Pidariyar. Unfortunately, the Dalits have never been allowed to play a role in this festival and neither has the deity entered their residing place. Hence, they decided in 1989 to build a temple of their own [for Mariyamma] … Construction started that year…a Vanniyar group…demolished the structure … in 1990 … [again] another Vanniyar group demolished the temple and set fire to two Dalit huts. On 23 March 1999, around 250 Vanniyars…[again] demolished the foundations of the temple [built by the Dalits].
Reportedly, two offences have been committed against the community of the Dalits here, which fall into the category of caste violence. Dalits have neither been allowed to play a role in the festival of Pidariyar, nor has the deity ever entered their residing place. And, the Dalits’ temple of Mariyamma has been repeatedly destroyed by Vanniyar community people. The latter is an offence by any consideration. But, it is not clear, what makes the former incident an offence. If a community decides that its temple is open only for the people belonging to its community, on what grounds can it be held objectionable? One can always suggest that this is not an enlightened move that a community can take vis-à-vis its temples and people of other communities. Consequently, one can criticize such a move, and suggest a better way of living, as the bhakti traditions in India did. But, how can one consider it a crime? It is a crime, only if it violates a norm. That is, only if we presume that people have some kind of right to enter every temple or offer pooja to any deity, we can consider the petty move of the Vanniyar community as a crime. However, do we have any such norm in the Indian society? Our commonsense is enough to answer this question with an emphatic ‘No’. What happens in the process is that the actual crime committed by the Vanniyar community of destroying the temple of the Dalits, i.e., if to believe the report, has got sidelined in a discussion which we do not even understand: the underlying norm of right to enter all the temples and offer pooja.
This is what has happened to our caste activism. We have focused on wrong problems, and therefore our solutions to those problems have also not worked. The following incident exposes the extent to which we have grown blind to our own situation. An exemplary instance of community relationship of our society has been completely misunderstood. Explaining the cause of a riot in a village amongst people belonging to two different castes, David writes the following:
A strange and peculiar situation was prevalent between Scheduled Caste Hindus and Muslims in settling the Civil and Criminal disputes in Panchayat. The caste Hindus and Muslims sought mediation of Scheduled Caste leaders… In fact many disputes were settled amicably and this had given the Scheduled Caste persons [authority] to be the mediators and leaders to caste-Hindus and Muslims.
Disregarding such a practice held for generations David comes to a simplistic explanation for the occurrence of violent incidents in the village.
This was disliked by the caste-Hindus and Muslims…[they] feared that if the Scheduled Caste persons were allowed to mediate, they would become most powerful force in future and it would be very difficult for them to refuse to accept the leadership of Scheduled Castes persons. (1979: 25)
And, they all attacked and killed them, concludes David.
Despite pointing out the deficiency in our understanding of the actual problem that the ‘lower caste’ people are facing, Madhava Prasad, unfortunately, falls into the same trap of re-naming it as a caste problem.