06-14-2008, 11:19 AM
Outline of the Fieldwork
Background
When Christian missionaries and travellers landed in the coastal cites of India and visited other cities and states inland each was able to see âthe caste systemâ in India immediately. If it is that easily visible to them, it must also be visible to us, that is, to those who are alleged to live within the âcaste system.â While it may not be so easily visible to us as it was to people looking at it from the outside, it does mean, however, that the âcaste systemâ retains its visibility to us as well.
The proposed empirical research attempts an indirect answer to the following question: On the basis of which empirical, visible properties can one âseeâ (or conclude the existence of?) âthe caste systemâ?
This question is extremely pertinent in India today. Almost all the discussions about the âcaste systemâ refer to or narrate (a) horror stories about water wells; (b) physical beatings; © denial of entry into the temples; and (d) âuntouchability.â (It is not clear what the latter is about though.) Interestingly enough, most early missionaries and travellers appear to have missed seeing these things. Nevertheless, they saw the âcaste system.â This leads one to suspect that the travellers and missionaries saw âsomething else.â So, what did they see? Research on the European travel and missionary reports at the Research Centre Vergelijkende Cultuurwetenschap focuses on enumerating what they saw.
There is a second reason why this question is important. In discussions it is never clear whether (a) the above four aspects are the empirical properties of âthe caste systemâ; or whether (b) they are the causal consequences of âthe caste system.â If they are empirical properties, we need to ascertain whether they are the constitutive properties of the system or not. If they are constitutive properties, then the condemnation of âthe caste systemâ based on these properties could be justified. If they are, by contrast, secondary (or not necessary) properties, then the discussion will have to take an entirely different route.
However, if they are the consequences of âthe caste system,â then âthe caste systemâ is something other than and different from these consequences, which are the themes of moral indignation. If they are the consequences, we need to know whether they are necessary consequences of âthe caste system.â If it turns out that these are not the necessary consequences of âthe caste systemâ or that other things generate these consequences severally, again, the discussion has to take a different route.
These analyses involve the present theoretical research into âthe caste system,â and into its theories, pursued at the Research Centre Vergelijkende Cultuurwetenschap. The practical fieldwork provides data that will be invaluable in getting a handle on these questions. That is to say, some clarity will be achieved thanks to the field research.
Focus
What exactly is the focus of the field work? (a) It tries to examine the truth of one of the most fundamental assumptions about âthe caste system.â (b) It tries to describe/narrate the empirical stories about âthe caste system.â © It tries to see whether the conceptualisations that result from the empirical findings can be historically related to the so-called indigenous criticism of âthe caste system.â That is, whether the Vaçanaâs (the Lingayats) criticise the empirical picture of âthe caste systemâ or whether they criticise the commonsense picture of âthe caste system,â viz. as a social structure that characterises the India (Karnatic) culture. Let me spell out each of the above mentioned foci severally.
It is sociologically unlikely that âthe caste systemâ emerged as a full-blown social system, simultaneously and all over India, some 4000 years ago. It is equally unlikely that this system emerged simultaneously in several places and converged. To argue any of these is to transform âthe caste systemâ into a miraculous social organisation. No known (or conceivable) social mechanism can help explain any of the above theses. The only reasonable hypothesis is to assume that it emerged in some place at some time.
How did it propagate itself? Because we are talking about âthe caste systemâ (in the singular), somebody or something must have enabled its propagation. The possibility that there is no one, single caste system, but many caste systems need not be entertained by us. Let those called upon to do so prove this first.
If we now consider India of some 4000 years ago (the famous Purusha Sukta, the favourite piece of all Orientalists, Indologists, leftists, etc., is dated thereabouts), with vast distances separating the cities from each other, with huge differences in languages, it is a prerequisite (almost) that some central political, or administrative system imposed this system on society. We know this was not the case. Without such an imposition, however, there is no way, on heaven or on earth, that a system with the same four varnaâs, with the same four names (with an identical âcasteâ of untouchables or whatever else), with an identically structured set of practices (e.g. the four properties mentioned earlier) could come into being from the Himalayas in the North to Kanyakumari in the South. The vastness of the region, its multiplicity of languages and dialects, its diversity in practices make it impossible to conceive anything else based on what we know about human beings, societies, social organisations, etc. And yet, it is an established fact that neither the origin nor the propagation of âthe caste systemâ (let alone its reproduction) was due to the existence and efforts of a centralised system.
Instead of asking the question about the origin and propagation of âthe caste system,â the mainstream opinion on âthe caste systemâ simply assumes that âthe caste systemâ âsomehowâ came into being (deus ex machina, as it were), somehow propagated itself, and that it holds the Indian culture as a hostage. It is this fundamental assumption that will be challenged in this research by drawing out the kind of complexities involved in a region of about 250 kilometres of today. If todayâs 250 kilometres make it impossible to talk about âtheâ caste system, what does it tell us about the 4000 kilometres of yesterday?
Hypothesis
The wider the net, the more the number of villages we investigate, the more complex the picture is going to be: there will be a variety of names, a variety of stories, and a variety in the internal classifications of these castes as well as an absence of classifications (in terms of hierarchy) among the Brahmins.
These varieties will be the greatest among the so-called scheduled castes and those movements which have recruited primarily from the so-called scheduled castes.
One of the ways of reducing the diversity into a recognisable picture of âthe caste systemâ is to make a series of assumptions. (That is to say, the empirical picture will not carry clear or uniform criteria for classification.)
From this it follows that âthe caste systemâ is not a social structure but some ad hoc scheme of classification. If both âcastesâ and âsub-castesâ turn out to be ad hoc categories of classification, what does it mean to ask the question, âHow did the caste system come into being in India?â (Equally, the continued existence of âthe caste systemâ will have to do purely with political exigencies, i.e., that maintaining âthe caste systemâ is in the interests of some groups, who are alleged to be against âthe caste systemâ and benefit from being the alleged victims of structuralised atrocities.)
The Fieldwork
The ongoing field work focuses upon sets of villages in rural Karnataka. The fieldwork is conducted by local students from Kuvempu University. In addition, Kuvempu University organises a Certificate Course for elected members of the Gram Panchayats (the Rural Self Government Units) in Karnataka. In the nearby future, members of the Gram Panchayats will be actively involved in bringing the fieldwork to their respective villages.
An empirical list of the so-called Jatiâs is being drawn up, each with its local name. This list enables us to pose the following question: On what grounds is one to consider some caste with a local name âXâ the same as another caste âYâ some 250 kilometres away? (The âhavyikaâ of Shimoga and the âBabburkammeâ from Bangalore, for instance.)
It appears that this problem is most acute with the so-called âHarijans.â In fact, even with our knowledge of Karnataka, we have not been able to classify the multiple castes into one coherent system. Unless, that is, we already would have assumed that a âbadigaâ and a âbanajigaâ are sub-castes of the Lingayat caste if they are Lingayats, and that they are independent castes if they are not Lingayats. The purpose of this exercise was, and continues to be, to raise questions about such a classification.
Background
When Christian missionaries and travellers landed in the coastal cites of India and visited other cities and states inland each was able to see âthe caste systemâ in India immediately. If it is that easily visible to them, it must also be visible to us, that is, to those who are alleged to live within the âcaste system.â While it may not be so easily visible to us as it was to people looking at it from the outside, it does mean, however, that the âcaste systemâ retains its visibility to us as well.
The proposed empirical research attempts an indirect answer to the following question: On the basis of which empirical, visible properties can one âseeâ (or conclude the existence of?) âthe caste systemâ?
This question is extremely pertinent in India today. Almost all the discussions about the âcaste systemâ refer to or narrate (a) horror stories about water wells; (b) physical beatings; © denial of entry into the temples; and (d) âuntouchability.â (It is not clear what the latter is about though.) Interestingly enough, most early missionaries and travellers appear to have missed seeing these things. Nevertheless, they saw the âcaste system.â This leads one to suspect that the travellers and missionaries saw âsomething else.â So, what did they see? Research on the European travel and missionary reports at the Research Centre Vergelijkende Cultuurwetenschap focuses on enumerating what they saw.
There is a second reason why this question is important. In discussions it is never clear whether (a) the above four aspects are the empirical properties of âthe caste systemâ; or whether (b) they are the causal consequences of âthe caste system.â If they are empirical properties, we need to ascertain whether they are the constitutive properties of the system or not. If they are constitutive properties, then the condemnation of âthe caste systemâ based on these properties could be justified. If they are, by contrast, secondary (or not necessary) properties, then the discussion will have to take an entirely different route.
However, if they are the consequences of âthe caste system,â then âthe caste systemâ is something other than and different from these consequences, which are the themes of moral indignation. If they are the consequences, we need to know whether they are necessary consequences of âthe caste system.â If it turns out that these are not the necessary consequences of âthe caste systemâ or that other things generate these consequences severally, again, the discussion has to take a different route.
These analyses involve the present theoretical research into âthe caste system,â and into its theories, pursued at the Research Centre Vergelijkende Cultuurwetenschap. The practical fieldwork provides data that will be invaluable in getting a handle on these questions. That is to say, some clarity will be achieved thanks to the field research.
Focus
What exactly is the focus of the field work? (a) It tries to examine the truth of one of the most fundamental assumptions about âthe caste system.â (b) It tries to describe/narrate the empirical stories about âthe caste system.â © It tries to see whether the conceptualisations that result from the empirical findings can be historically related to the so-called indigenous criticism of âthe caste system.â That is, whether the Vaçanaâs (the Lingayats) criticise the empirical picture of âthe caste systemâ or whether they criticise the commonsense picture of âthe caste system,â viz. as a social structure that characterises the India (Karnatic) culture. Let me spell out each of the above mentioned foci severally.
It is sociologically unlikely that âthe caste systemâ emerged as a full-blown social system, simultaneously and all over India, some 4000 years ago. It is equally unlikely that this system emerged simultaneously in several places and converged. To argue any of these is to transform âthe caste systemâ into a miraculous social organisation. No known (or conceivable) social mechanism can help explain any of the above theses. The only reasonable hypothesis is to assume that it emerged in some place at some time.
How did it propagate itself? Because we are talking about âthe caste systemâ (in the singular), somebody or something must have enabled its propagation. The possibility that there is no one, single caste system, but many caste systems need not be entertained by us. Let those called upon to do so prove this first.
If we now consider India of some 4000 years ago (the famous Purusha Sukta, the favourite piece of all Orientalists, Indologists, leftists, etc., is dated thereabouts), with vast distances separating the cities from each other, with huge differences in languages, it is a prerequisite (almost) that some central political, or administrative system imposed this system on society. We know this was not the case. Without such an imposition, however, there is no way, on heaven or on earth, that a system with the same four varnaâs, with the same four names (with an identical âcasteâ of untouchables or whatever else), with an identically structured set of practices (e.g. the four properties mentioned earlier) could come into being from the Himalayas in the North to Kanyakumari in the South. The vastness of the region, its multiplicity of languages and dialects, its diversity in practices make it impossible to conceive anything else based on what we know about human beings, societies, social organisations, etc. And yet, it is an established fact that neither the origin nor the propagation of âthe caste systemâ (let alone its reproduction) was due to the existence and efforts of a centralised system.
Instead of asking the question about the origin and propagation of âthe caste system,â the mainstream opinion on âthe caste systemâ simply assumes that âthe caste systemâ âsomehowâ came into being (deus ex machina, as it were), somehow propagated itself, and that it holds the Indian culture as a hostage. It is this fundamental assumption that will be challenged in this research by drawing out the kind of complexities involved in a region of about 250 kilometres of today. If todayâs 250 kilometres make it impossible to talk about âtheâ caste system, what does it tell us about the 4000 kilometres of yesterday?
Hypothesis
The wider the net, the more the number of villages we investigate, the more complex the picture is going to be: there will be a variety of names, a variety of stories, and a variety in the internal classifications of these castes as well as an absence of classifications (in terms of hierarchy) among the Brahmins.
These varieties will be the greatest among the so-called scheduled castes and those movements which have recruited primarily from the so-called scheduled castes.
One of the ways of reducing the diversity into a recognisable picture of âthe caste systemâ is to make a series of assumptions. (That is to say, the empirical picture will not carry clear or uniform criteria for classification.)
From this it follows that âthe caste systemâ is not a social structure but some ad hoc scheme of classification. If both âcastesâ and âsub-castesâ turn out to be ad hoc categories of classification, what does it mean to ask the question, âHow did the caste system come into being in India?â (Equally, the continued existence of âthe caste systemâ will have to do purely with political exigencies, i.e., that maintaining âthe caste systemâ is in the interests of some groups, who are alleged to be against âthe caste systemâ and benefit from being the alleged victims of structuralised atrocities.)
The Fieldwork
The ongoing field work focuses upon sets of villages in rural Karnataka. The fieldwork is conducted by local students from Kuvempu University. In addition, Kuvempu University organises a Certificate Course for elected members of the Gram Panchayats (the Rural Self Government Units) in Karnataka. In the nearby future, members of the Gram Panchayats will be actively involved in bringing the fieldwork to their respective villages.
An empirical list of the so-called Jatiâs is being drawn up, each with its local name. This list enables us to pose the following question: On what grounds is one to consider some caste with a local name âXâ the same as another caste âYâ some 250 kilometres away? (The âhavyikaâ of Shimoga and the âBabburkammeâ from Bangalore, for instance.)
It appears that this problem is most acute with the so-called âHarijans.â In fact, even with our knowledge of Karnataka, we have not been able to classify the multiple castes into one coherent system. Unless, that is, we already would have assumed that a âbadigaâ and a âbanajigaâ are sub-castes of the Lingayat caste if they are Lingayats, and that they are independent castes if they are not Lingayats. The purpose of this exercise was, and continues to be, to raise questions about such a classification.