Changing colours of racism

Chinky. Dhandewaali. (whore) Momo. These are the kind of slurs she hears every day in Delhi. Some days, a local goon would ask with a lascivious smile: “Rate kya hai?(What is the rate?)” When that happens, she simply looks away and hurries past. On reaching home at night, she thanks her lucky stars that she has got through another day with body and limb intact. Before going out the next morning, she mutters a prayer, apprehending what the city might have in store for her. Racial slurs, she has learnt to handle. When she first arrived there from her home in Manipur, they would reduce her to tears. But with time she has learnt to put up with them, as she has with the city’s heat and chaos. She realises that the big, bad city is capable of throwing far more than hateful words at her.I contemplate her with a mixture of guilt and bemusement. She works as a barista in my neighbourhoodCosta. Until the past month, she was like any other barista, greeting me with a ready smile the moment I walked in through the door, making cheerful small talk while taking my order, stopping by my table to ask if my coffee and pastry were fine as I was partaking of them. Since the brutal murder of Nido Tania, however, the smile looks strained and the cheerfulness has all but disappeared. Today, as the newspaper reports yet another case of a Manipuri girl being groped in Delhi, she looks pensive and withdrawn. It’s obvious that she can no longer summon even the semblance of a professional veneer to contain the churning inside.

Empathy

I want to tell her that I understand exactly how she feels. That what happened to Nido Tania brought back memories of a horrific night in Norwich in 2005 where I was beaten black and blue by racist goons. That for almost a week after that night, one side of my face was so swollen that it was practically impossible to chew. That there were times in that week where I was so scared that my face would never heal that I wished my assailants had killed me. That for months I avoided going out at night and when I did, I would freeze each time I heard someone behind me.But I hesitate.I have nothing to do with the racist attacks. Yet that cannot quell the embarrassment I feel because my race places me right in the middle of the racist mob. I am unsure of how anything I say might be taken. An attempt at sympathy could sound fake or trite. Condemnation may not go far enough. And who knows, if we ever had an honest conversation about race, I might end up becoming defensive about mine and make a bad situation worse. So I do nothing. When she answers ‘fine’ to my question of how she is doing, I merely smile and nod even though I know she is lying and accept my coffee and pastry with a terse ‘thank you’.As I walk home later, it strikes me that this is exactly how my white friends would

have felt in England in the days following my attack. As I would go round Norwich with a bandaged head and a bruised face, eyes would be averted. People would fall silent as I approached, like they did not know what to do with me. The exchange that ensued focussed on the inconsequential and was chock-full of the kind of silence that breaks out when people are not sure of what to do or say. And there was palpable relief all round when it was over.

Subtle discrimination

The brutal attacks get all the headlines. But the impact of racism on ordinary lives is far more subtle and insidious. Invariably, it redraws relations by placing people on the opposite sides of a divide. It instils feelings of fear and persecution among the people it targets, while creating guilt and embarrassment among many on the other side. Suddenly, the most effortless relationship becomes exhausting as a distance that is difficult to bridge opens up. There are issues that are off limits because they are too hot to touch, and the whole point of an interaction can devolve to avoiding anything unseemly. As a result, the distance between people widens. That is its inherent evil.It is not as if we in India are new to racism. In the past, though, Indian racism was about caste and colour. Low-caste Hindus would accuse the upper castes of perpetuating a form of discrimination that amounted to racism. Then there was the gripe that dark-skinned Indians had with the nation’s fascination with light skin. The word black in most Indian languages was synonymous with ugly and it was understood that to be considered attractive you had to be fair.Caste and colour divisions still exist in India. Just about every day an honour killing takes place, because a low-caste Hindu has dared to marry someone from an upper caste. The lust for light skin, too, is alive and well. A glance at the matrimonial pages of newspapers indicates just about every man or woman desires a light-skinned spouse. Skin-whitening creams and lotions fly off the shelves in bazaars and supermarkets, and most Bollywood movies feature actors light-skinned enough for India to resemble a South European country.However, the kind of racism that has recently been seen in Delhi with Northeasterners or, for that matter, Africans, is of the kind that was formerly associated with the West. Caste and colour have nothing to do with it. Africans and the bulk of the Northeasterners are not Hindus. Furthermore, in terms of skin colour, most Northeasterners tend to be fairer than the average Indian. The fact that they are being targeted, along with the Africans, is for one reason only. They look different. It is no accident that if you see an Indian woman with an African man in Delhi, more often than not, she is a Northeasterner, the kind of Indian made to feel foreign in her own country.In the past, India was always at the forefront of the battle against racism. Both Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela took inspiration

from India and Mahatma Gandhi. In the United Nations and other world forums, India spoke for suppressed people wherever they were in the world. As one of the first non-white nations to throw off the yoke of European colonialism, India was a beacon of hope for freedom fighters everywhere. Yet when it comes to accepting people from other races in our own society, we are showing that we are light years away from practising what we have preached.Racism has been the scourge of the Western world for generations. It is sad to see it spreading its tentacles in India.

Safeguarding the many histories of India

It’s hard to tell the truth, harder still to accept it. The truth by its very nature is neither polite nor palatable. But for a country that equates the truth with victory, we seem to be increasingly intolerant of it. A growing conservatism seems to be upon us with the intention to reduce our ability to debate, argue and differ. The recent out-of-court-settlement between Penguin India and a right wing Hindu outfit that resulted in the decision to pulp a scholarly work on Hinduism by Wendy Doniger signals the growing dominance of a conservative and intolerant section of Indian society.This conservatism can be traced as far back as the ban on Salman Rushdie’s The Satanic Verses. The ban is significant because it provided political legitimacy to intolerance and censorship. The fundamentalists were quick to realise the need to manufacture intolerance and attack our diversity and freedom of expression, their arch enemies, on the basis of religion. Not surprisingly, since then, the attacks on our cultural freedoms have only increased.A quick skim through recent acts of cultural intimidation is revealing. Oxford University Press, a leading academic publisher, buckled rapidly under pressure and withdrew an excellent academic book on Shivaji because it hurt regional sentiments. India’s noted painter M.F. Hussain lived and died in exile, hounded by fundamentalists because of what he painted decades ago. But the most recent and shameful act was when India’s celebrated poet academic A.K. Ramanujan’s work on the Ramayana was removed from the Delhi University syllabus and later withdrawn from print by OUP.

Disallowing diversityWhat do we learn from these arbitrary acts of censorship, cultural intimidation and bullying? That most institutions charged with protecting our diversity of thought and freedoms of expression are buckling under this conservatism. How can a leading publisher acquiesce so easily to bullying or the possibility of an adverse court ruling? By choosing to pulp or withdraw their books they seem to agree that an alternative narrative cannot exist. Clearly, they have abandoned their role as guardians of ideas and the written word.Yet, is the publisher alone to blame? The courts of late seem strangely

inclined towards conservatism. Politicians, across the board, lead this conservatism. They want to regulate the media, censor books and ban movies. But most disturbingly, we as a people seem least interested in the truth and comfortably numb in our pursuit of attainment and entertainment. What should we as a liberal, secular and tolerant India do?Protest. This book was Penguin’s to protect but the freedom of expression is ours to safeguard. Our responsibility here is collective and so should be our response. Authors and writers have already urged Penguin to take this matter to a higher court. This settlement and every other act of oppression should be challenged in court and outside to assert our identity as a diverse and tolerant people who celebrate not silence but alternative histories and perspectives.Groups like Shiksha Bachao Andolan Samiti must be made to realise that this form of cultural bullying or censorship is acutely un-Indian and will not be tolerated. In India, we have always had many histories. Far from being a source of conflict, these have strengthened our diversity and philosophical thinking. Where others see conflict, we have seen interdependence and tolerance — an idea deeply embedded in the Indian nation.These groups, who also misrepresent Hinduism, must be made to realise that their action is also deeply un-Hindu. The religion has within itself sufficient conflicting history, ideology and philosophy. While there are commonalities, no single deity, book or idea defines Hinduism. Hence, there can never be one Hindu way or one Hindu history. To try and reduce the religion to a single history is to insult Hinduism itself. Every Hindu must speak up to defend the plurality and inclusiveness of this religion.

Defence against offenseFinally, to ban or withdraw any book, without sufficient discussion or dissent, is to diminish and offend the reader. Such an action seems to suggest that either the Indian reader does not have the capacity to handle diverse ideas of religious history or should not have access to diverse and alternative histories. We must protest to defend our right to read and independently judge the truth and merit of each argument because our right to ideas is the most fundamental freedom any civilised society offers.This conservatism that arm-twisted Penguin into pulping this book must be made to realise that India’s diversity is non-negotiable. If we don’t fight this, our ability to debate and argue will slowly vanish. We will then be left with only one version of history and a broken idea of Indianness, because it’s not about Hinduism or Doniger but what we represent as a people. If we cannot exist with tolerance and diversity, what else defines being Indian?

Commissions and their omissions

What did international pressure and globalisation have to do with the setting up of commissions for human rights and socially excluded sections? A lot. Under pressure from countries and businesses wanting to engage with India as it opened its doors to the market economy, the idea of setting up commissions was first mooted in 1992. In fact, it was in that year that the then Union Home Minister S.B. Chavan informed the Rajya Sabha about the proposed human rights commissions. He said they were to be set up to “counter the false and politically motivated propaganda by foreign and Indian civil rights agencies.” So, even at the very outset, the primary intent was to keep the West happy rather than improve the rights situation within the country. If some pluses have accrued they are just incidental.So, thanks to the global community, the Protection of Human Rights Act, 1993 (PHRA) became a reality, broadly applying the Paris Principles laid down by the UN Commission on Human Rights and the UN General Assembly. With the PHRA in place came the Human Rights Commissions, followed by, among others, Commissions for Minorities, Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, Women, Children and People with Disabilities at the national and state level. It was implicit that these bodies would serve to provide India the pro-human rights image that it sought on the global front. Though these quasi-judicial outfits were government-sponsored and government-funded, there was a feeling that their citizen-centric functions would steer them towards their stated goal — of providing quick redress to marginalised citizens in the face of extensive red tape and tedious court proceedings in the country. As a result, each time blatant violations take place, be it custodial torture or rape, caste or class atrocities, or farmer suicides, citizens look towards these institutions for justice.But on the ground have the national and state-level commissions delivered? A recently released report by Poorest Areas Civil Society (PACS) and Participatory Research in India (PRIA) documents the work of five commissions and reveals serious shortcomings. A social audit on state human rights commissions by Human Rights Law Network (HRLN) last year also throws light on their institutional and infrastructural problems.Through data, material available in the public sphere, and filing of RTIs, the studies have collected a wealth of information which point to systemic bottlenecks that have rendered these vital institutions largely ineffective, save for some exceptions. For instance, the PACS-PRIA report notes that the offices of these commissions are mostly located amidst government offices in state capitals or bigger cities far removed from the districts where their presence is more required. The second Administrative Reforms Commission, 2009, in its 12th report had earlier observed that the commissions have not been able to accomplish the mandates to a meaningful extent, and called for making the institutions more vibrant, responsive and accountable.So what are the inbuilt constraints eating into these institutions that on paper have immense potential? HRLN’s social audit, ‘Rugged Road to Justice,’ says that the commissions in India are heavily under government patronage, whether at the

Centre or in the States. As a result, instead of being answerable to an independent authority as laid out in the Paris Principles, they report to the Ministry of Home Affairs. At the national level, the Ministry is also in-charge of the police, immigration, laws for terrorism and insurgency, security and communal harmony. The complaints made to the commission by stakeholders most often deal with these very authorities. “There has been no recorded evidence of the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) or the State Human Rights Commissions (SHRCs) taking suitable action against the government of the day or of moving a court to action,” the audit report reveals. And this brings to the fore the basic question of the independence of the institutions.

Arbitary appointmentsAs far as these statutory bodies are concerned, their independent functioning is further corroded by the way appointments of chairpersons and members of the commissions are made, which is often according to the whims and fancies of the government of the day. It is also often a parking ground for retired judges or civil servants who are appointed instead of persons with professional experience and track records in particular fields. Rights commissions depend on government budgetary allocations. It was found that this varies drastically from state to state and it has been suggested that commissions prepare a five-year plan with clear deliverables and budgets. During the study, PACS and PRIA found that the National Commission for Women with a nation-wide mandate received a budget of over one crore in 2010-11, while the Madhya Pradesh State Women’s Commission received the same amount in 2009-10. In contrast, Bihar and Odisha were struggling with limited allocations of Rs 30 lakh and Rs 55 lakh respectively. Further, the report pointed out that a detailed analysis of budgetary provisions in all commissions revealed that most of the funds were spent in running offices, paying salaries and meeting administrative expenses. The actual activities and the mandate of the commission utilised a very limited proportion of the funds.Another serious lacuna facing all the commissions was that of institutional capacity. It was found that in most cases, the staff of the commissions comprised largely of peons, drivers and assistants. Specialists who can deliver on the mandate of the particular commission were conspicuous by their absence. This serious lack of competencies in jurisprudence, investigation, data collection, documentation, communication and capacity development were visible when accomplishments of these commissions were carefully studied.The studies also pointed out that often stakeholders get confused on who to approach as the commissions have overlapping scope. As a result those seeking relief were shunted from one to another. “A Scheduled Caste Muslim woman belonging to three socially excluded groups must get her rights and entitlements without any inconvenience due to confusion between commissions about their scope of work. The

minority commission should not send her to a women’s commission and a women’s commission must not send her to a Scheduled Caste commission for claiming her entitlements. There needs to be clarity on which commission would serve as her ultimate recourse,” Sister Sudha Varghese, vice chairperson, State Commission for Minorities, Bihar, reiterated at the national consultation.Many of the commissions were also found to be faulting on their public disclosures. A large number of them did not bother to update their websites or uplink annual reports. The PACS and PRIA study, while looking at Scheduled Caste commissions in Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and Madhya Pradesh, found that no annual report was available for Uttar Pradesh or Bihar, while for Madhya Pradesh, the latest available report was as old as 2009-10.At the very root of the problem is that the commissions do not perceive themselves as independent, nor do they seek the autonomy that the Paris Principles wanted to bestow on them. They believe they are answerable to governments and not to citizens. Unless this mindset changes, there is very little hope that things will change for the better.

MYTHS ABOUT CULTURE AND CASTE

Delhi chief minister Mr. Kejriwal’s claim that “khaps serve a cultural purpose” reproduces some popular myths about culture and caste. These myths predate AAP and have been put into place over the last few years by official and expert statements in public discourse such that they are now part of a “commonsense” of worldviews about caste and culture.Consider two other statements made by political figures whose parties are at pains to show how retrograde AAP’s statements are.The first statement sounds far less egregious but articulates a deeper hubris about caste and culture. In doing so, it prepares the ground for later statements such as the ones by AAP. Delivering the 13th Lester Pearson Memorial Lecture at Delhi University on April 23, 2007, Mr. Jairam Ramesh (then Commerce Minister) attested to India’s diversity thus: “Indeed, India has the greatest diversities seven major religions and numerous other sects and faiths, 22 official languages and over 200 recorded mother tongues, around 4,635 largely endogamous communities.” The number “4635” of course, refers to the approximately 3990 caste groups and 645 “tribal” groups in India. Such a positive rendering of the large number of caste groups as contributing to diversity becomes possible only if we view castes as cultural diversities, and endogamy as something benign, even admirable.Such a view about caste and culture in India seems so “natural” that it seems counter-intuitive to ask: Why is the existence of so many castes viewed as positive, valuable and contributing to diversity? Could it not be that caste prevents the flourishing of the human spirit and creativity and hence is actually a hurdle to cultural diversity?The second statement, far more egregious and combining hubris with a measure of cynical political stratagem, was made by Gujarat chief minister Mr. Modi who claimed that “manual scavenging is a spiritual experience” (2007). This justifiably got the rebuke it deserved for crassly misrepresenting a palpably forced labor within an oppressive system as if it were an edifying and voluntarily chosen experience. The point that such a

statement exemplifies is the deep cognitive taking-for-granted that the social world with all its inequalities is something that is “natural,” or at least something that needn’t be tampered with, and hence deserving only of rationalizations. A more un-modern view of the world is difficult to come by.The only way out of this morass of spiraling myth-making is to include some reflection on how myths about “culture” and “caste” are reproduced in everyday and expert speech. Myths are not simple fictions; they are the “stuff” of commonsense. They work through storylines or narratives that make the world of experience appear “natural” through the hidden assumptions within it which are rarely reflected upon. Myths about caste and culture are pernicious since they make historical and social configurations appear natural, normal and rationalized. Hence such myths need to be busted in multiple sites of social interactions (from within households to party headquarters to media and board rooms to playgrounds, streets, addas and yes, social media).

Myth 1: Culture is coterminous with group boundaries, i.e., one group equals one culture.

As the cultural anthropologist Frederick Barth has observed, culture varies according to

people’s experiences (Barth, 1995). No two people – even within a small group such as a family

– share the same experiences. Some overlap will be there of course (and that is what makes the

study of patterns and groups possible and interesting), but the overlap or sharing need not

conform to group boundaries. Thus, although a group’s culture is shared amongst the “youth”

of that group, there are also “youth cultures” that crosscut across different social groups. This

also points to the cultural differences between the youth and elders of any group. The same

holds for women (or men) within a group, and so on even for those groups that are deemed to

be homogenous, say, small, isolated groups living on an island. Such a continuous variation of

culture makes groups and culture, complex. Individuals inhabit more than one cultural group or

identity, forming what are called intersectional identities. Hence, culture is not coterminous

with a group’s boundaries, i.e., one social group does not equal one culture, and one’s culture

does not stop at the borders of one’s social group.

Myth 2: Culture is shared within a group.

This is a corollary to the above myth. Since culture varies continuously, changes continually and

is transmitted with changes over time, we can expect that not all people within a group (even

those claiming to be cultural groups) share the culture in totality. If one thinks about culture as

never too far from one’s experience, then it follows that culture will be similar to and shared

among clusters of people who cross social group boundaries. Differences of culture exist very

much within any group, usually along lines of age, gender, sexual orientation, political

disposition, class and occupation. It follows that culture is not shared in any simple way within

any group.

Myth 3: Culture is a property of a group.

Too often people think of “culture” as something that groups “have” or “own” as their

distinctive sign. Groups thus come to be viewed as if culture were a natural or legal property

held in common. However, culture does not get passed down legally, nor is it a property of a

group in the sense that sweetness is a property of sugar, i.e., something essential in defining

the group. Culture is socially transmitted in everyday ordinary life, is less tangible than

property, and typically diffuse – i.e., not easily described in terms of essences. Of course, claims

to cultural essence exist in any group, but such claims are better viewed as part of the process

of group formation – if accepted, they held groups cohere. Groups are socially formed by

factors that range from external aggression, systemic oppression, governmental policy, internal

attempts to cohere such as the claimed of shared identity, interests and experiences, and other

historical factors that prepare conditions for groups to become conscious of their own selves.

Culture is only one factor, albeit critical, in this process of group formation. Instead of a product

such as property, or as a natural inheritance such as genes, it is usefully viewed as a social and

collective process of production of meanings (about the world, life, relations, ways of doing and

being) that are encoded as information (beliefs, values, worldviews) and embodied in practices.

Viewing it as a process instead of as property allows us to see how culture is continually

produced and not simply a given at any point in time.

Myth 4: Culture is fixed, static and transmitted as such over generations as “tradition.”

It follows that culture cannot be something unchanging (even if that is what many people

desire it to be or claim it to be). Like life and the world of nature, social life and culture are

always changing, in flux. We can accept this more easily if we think about how cultural

transmission takes place. Unlike a photocopy machine (which too is not precise), and as the

cognitive anthropologist Dan Sperber has argued (Sperber 1996), cultural transmission is never

replication. Its normal mode of transmission is through small changes that allow the next

“copy” to be merely sharing very general resemblance with the “original.” This allows for

culture to be changing through micro-processes over time. The idea then of a fixed unchanging

thing called culture or “tradition” is largely an imagined reality emanating from the desire for

such fixity, typically in order to control culture and the group.

Myth 5: Culture is not about power, only about identity:

Since culture is so important to living meaningful lives, it is always contested. People fight over

what is culture; but we need not assume that such contestation only occurs between groups. It

occurs very much within groups too. Culture is thus always connected to power differentials

within a group, any group. Those who control “meaning-making” within a group decide what

that group’s culture is. Better still (or worse?) they get to represent that group and its culture to

others in society. Thus, one of the first things to highlight when discussing culture is “who is

claiming that something (information or practice) is the culture of a particular group?”

Attending to this reveals the workings of power behind identity.

Myth 6: Caste is a cultural community, i.e., one caste differs from another due to their

different cultures.

Increasingly, caste groups claim to be simply culturally different (not “higher” than others,

simply “different”). Aided by electoral political realities, this takes the form of assertion of

castes as identity groups. Not surprisingly, caste leaders and those who share their worldview

portray the “culture” of their caste as defining their identity. This need not however lead us to

conclude that the difference between any two castes is that they “have different cultures.” In

times of crisis and conflict (could be over resources, prestige or inter-caste marriages) castes

make it quite clear about how they view themselves as “higher” and more “honorable” than

the other castes. Even in todays’ India, caste is about social status and the organization of that

status to enable the exploitation, domination, and stigmatization of castes ascribed “low”

status. Other castes are by definition different in status, not necessarily in culture. This

attribution of different status to other castes (and hence to one’s own caste) is what we need to

think of as casteism. We can then say that casteism forces caste groups to be and remain

different. As historian Uma Chakravarti points out in her work on the gendered nature of caste,

we need to remember “…how it [caste] is masked…as the culture and tradition of specific

communities…” (Chakravarti 2003:172). Caste is thus not about culture and difference, but

about differential status and exclusion. Cultural difference – the extent it appears to exist

between any two castes – it itself only a function of the force of casteism which seeks

difference, separation and hierarchy.

Myth 7: Caste is separable from patriarchy, control over sexuality, and class:Too many times

caste has been portrayed and discussed as if it were a strange kind of group – devoid of

anything outside of itself. This is however not how groups form and exist in reality. Groups

(including castes, “tribes”, religious, linguistic and ethnic groups) always exist as forms that are

shaped by processes of class and patriarchy (among other factors). This is because of the simple

fact that people do not just live on identity alone. Two of the fundamental relations that

everyone enters into when making their lives are those with nature and with other people.

They (usually) have to work for a living by participating in collectively extracting energy from

nature and have relations with other people. These are, also of course, relations of power.

Ideas and relations of gender, sexuality and class then are very much part of any group’s

existence. Groups like caste are some of the most dependent upon drawing and maintaining

group boundaries. This is where endogamy – the practice of trying to marry within one’s own

group or caste – becomes the site for patriarchal practices. Not surprisingly, caste groups

engage in boundary-patrolling since they seek to reproduce their sense of identity and culture.

Khaps of course do an additional patrolling work – of ensuring gotra exogamy (making sure

people do not marry within their own gotras since many gotras make up a caste). This

necessarily makes castes enforce patriarchal codes of conduct on women (and men) and on the

youth whose life experiences (and hence, culture) are expectedly quite different from their

elders.

Myth 8: Culture is outside of state purview.

If khaps are cultural, so is untouchability (i.e., they are both meaningful practices for those who

benefit from it). Yet, as we know it, untouchability has been banned and rightfully so (although

it continues illegally in many parts of the country) and so were khaps the last time I checked

(Supreme Court of India, 2011). To his credit, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh made the clear

statement that “The only parallel to the practice of untouchability was apartheid” (2006). This

logic could be extended to caste in toto. For, so long as caste boundaries are monitored, caste is

a system founded upon keeping socially and historically constructed groups separate,

exclusivist and monopolistic over resources including honor and prestige. It would be useful to

also bear in mind two other points in this regard. One, that khaps routinely delegitimize the

existence of the lowest levels of governance, i.e., the legally instituted panchayats. Anyone

interested in good governance needs to acknowledge khaps as a problem for governance.

Secondly, if khaps are kept beyond the purview of the Indian state, we could remind ourselves

of the ethical possibility pointed out by political scientist Gopal Guru about Dalits taking their

case to the UN at Durban in 2001 – that, when the mother, i.e., the Indian state, does not listen

to their grievances, Dalits rightfully took them to the grandmother, i.e., the international

community represented by the UN (Guru 2009). Such logic would rightly extend to anyone

oppressed by khaps.What then can we say about khaps? Kejriwal’s statement on khaps falls

into what I have called “the culturalization of caste” – the tendency to portray castes as cultural

groups rather than as groups formed from casteism (Natrajan 2011). It is part of what casteism

which needs to be thought of as an ongoing social process of recognizing and relating to others

as “different” in status and culture due to their descent and lineage. It is casteism then that

brings castes into existence. Castes, in other words, cannot exist without casteism. And,

culturalization is the most fecund way in which caste reproduces itself today in Indian society. It

ensures that we continue to practice casteism and delude ourselves about what we do and its

implications. It remains to be seen whether AAP shows cognizance of this. It is possible that

Kejriwal’s statement was made with the intention of working for reform of caste from within

khaps (rather than state intervention to ban them). But this assumes that khaps can be

reformed by social forces. Arguably, so long as castes exist, so will khaps since they are simply

the local forms of caste power which acts to discipline the group from within from time to time

as an agreement between the khaps from various castes. Can castes exist without khaps?

Facing this question becomes important if one is serious about democracy.

Here Yogendra Yadav’s tweet justifying the AAP position on khaps – despite exemplifying the

possibility of a reflexive AAP that could contrast with the stranglehold on imagination

desperately held onto by more established parties – is nevertheless far from convincing and

indeed reproduces many of the above myths.First, calling khaps a “routine dispute resolution

mechanism” conveniently erases the working of power behind the authority of khaps within a

caste. Khaps are, afterall, only a powerful segment of the membership of any caste group – a

section that is built by excluding other members (usually based upon age and gender, but also

on favoring particular lineages within a caste). By definition, khaps have to be coercive by

definition, since they are in the thick of internal struggles. Theirs is “domination without

hegemony” if you wish. For no group (including caste), is internally homogenous or without

dissent. Khaps are “routine” no doubt, but that cannot be a reason to legitimize their existence.

From the point view of, say, a Babli and Manoj, khaps are routine in their oppressiveness and

that is a huge problem. For such “aam aurats” and “aam aadmis” khaps are power structures

within caste groups, and exist to reproduce the power of their caste vis-à-vis other castes – by

using whatever means possible. Culture and legitimacy should not be means given on a platter

to khap leaders. They are already seeking judicial cover behind “cultural rights.”Second,

assuming that castes are a “communitarian organization” does not take into account a deeper

reality. Groups (including castes) do not simply form first and then get their leaders. They form

through the ideological and cultural “work” of leaders who in this process “make” the

community or group. Forgetting this portrays groups as preconfigured realities. It equates

khaps and caste associations to “the community.” But, as some scholars of caste pointed out a

long time ago, “externally, the caste association tried to convince outsiders that behind the

leaders stood a united community” (Arnold, Jeffrey and Manor 1976:373). It would be good for

AAP to call the bluff of khap leaders. They would find support within caste groups, as much as

outside.Third, the caveat that “the trouble begins when this dispute resolution becomes

coercive and violates the law of the land” is not a sustainable argument. Casteism and

patriarchy are social phenomena. They are never captured thoroughly by the legal lens of

discrimination, crucial as these laws are for any fight against injustice. As pointed above, khaps

are always coercive. One can only wait for the trouble to begin if one does not view already

existing coercion within groups as trouble.Even if khaps may be viewed as cultural in the sense

that they are institutions primarily dealing with values, beliefs and meaning, this does not mean

that they need to be blindly accepted (as the chief minister of Haryana, Mr. Hooda is now

insisting we accept). If culture has any essence, it is only that it is always contested, there is

always a struggle over meanings, values and beliefs. It is therefore always about power (who

decides these meanings, values, beliefs)? Endorsing khaps is endorsing the worldviews of the

powerful. It was culture (of the liberty, equality and fraternity kind) that prompted the pro-Nazi

character in the 1933 play by Johst to exclaim: “When I hear the word culture …, I release the

safety on my Browning!”

CULTURAL IGNORANCE ANF PREJUDICE

While the Supreme Court may have relegated LGBT people back to the closet (at least legally) the issue of racism in India on the other hand — with the vigilante raid against African women and now Nido Tania’s death — has been outed and we can either choose to confront it or continue to live under the delusion that all is well in our multicultural wonderland. And if the issue is out, it is perhaps time to differentiate between racism with a capital R and racism with a small r, or, in the world of the media blitzkrieg that we inhabit we could distinguish it as front page racism and footnote racism. Nido’s death — shocking as it is — is merely symptomatic of a much larger systemic malaise of how we deal with cultural difference in this country. While racism occasionally manifests itself in the form of hate crime it is felt most acutely as an everyday phenomenon in the form of snideness, smirks, casual references to someone being “chinki” and morally upright judgments about clothing and sexuality. On that count, it would be difficult to find a single northeastern Indian who has not at some point faced the brunt either of unwelcome banter or culturally curious questions (“Is it true you eat snakes?”) whose naïveté would be touching were it not so offensive.

Ignorance and prejudicesThe ‘racism’ word understandably provokes a fair amount of discomfort since it presents an unattractive picture which stands in sharp contrast to the official “unity in diversity” rhetoric. And yet it is a little ironic that even as we fume with righteous indignation at the treatment of Indians in the United States or Europe, we are shocked when we are accused of racism ourselves. Even if we were to agree with detractors who argue that it may be rash to characterise Nido’s killing as an instance of a hate crime or a racist attack and that it was just an instance of hooliganism that could have happened to anyone, it is a little difficult to forget that the comments about his looks and hairstyle which prompted Nido’s angry response smacked of racism. Nido’s death is a sad testimony to the fact that we are able to speak about systemic everyday racism only when confronted with the capital R variety.Commentators have observed that the cultural ignorance and prejudices have always existed in India citing the familiar example of how all South Indians are “Madrasis” and those living north of the Vindhyas are clubbed “Punjabis.” But it is important to recognise one crucial difference in the way that people from the northeast are treated. While a north Indian may be called a Punjabi or a South Indian a Madrasi, the markers are still within the rubric of Indian

nationhood whereas it is not uncommon for northeastern Indians to be hailed as Chinese, Japanese, Nepali or Korean. One of the placards in the protest against racism in Delhi on Saturday read: “We are confused and scared in our own country. What shall we call ourselves? Indians? Nepalis? Chinese?” When was the last time someone from Delhi was called an Afghan because of the similarity of his or her facial features? Kashmiris on the other hand can equally testify to the generous bestowing of indiscriminate citizenship having been accustomed to being called Pakistanis.In the protests and the debates on media that have ensued, one of the recurring themes and slogans has been “We are Indians too.” While this is understandable as a claim of equal citizenship it is also a little disturbing since it casts a burden on people from the northeast having to prove their sameness rather than assert the right to be different. What then of the expatriate Japanese or Chinese community? Do they abrogate their right against non discrimination because they are not Indians? By framing the experience of racism within a limited rubric of citizenship alone we run the risk of obfuscating questions of national identity with questions of belonging. It is in fact ironic that groups who have proudly claimed their self-determination on the basis of their unique identity have to respond to the experience of racism through a sentimental language of citizenship.A truly cosmopolitan ideal is one in which a city or a country can belong to you even if you do not belong to it and while it is tempting to resort to a liberal plea for promoting cultural awareness and the importance of “mainstreaming the northeast” — the complicated history of the northeast with its various self-determination movements and armed struggles requires a slightly different imagination of multicultural citizenship — one in which we move not from cultural difference into sameness but from cultural difference to cultural difference.

Opportunity to imagineRacism in India has so far been debated in relation to the caste question but the northeast question is one that allows us an opportunity to imagine modes of collective living which go beyond the lip service multiculturalism of exotic floats accompanied by tribal dances in Republic Day parades. The presence of northeastern Indians in “mainstream” India extends the very concept of India and demands a political and ethical imagination beyond inclusion into history textbooks and speedy trials of hate crime cases alone; it asks instead what it may mean for the mainstream to be open to be northeasternised, for Maharashtrians to be a little more Bihari’d and to acknowledge that a plurality of hairstyles and food cultures only enriches our collective selves. The French philosopher, Gilles Deleuze once remarked that it is better to be a schizophrenic out for a walk than a neurotic on a couch — perhaps a bold imagination of our diversity demands that we be comfortable with our multiple identities if we are not to collapse

into the neurosis of the singular.Incidents like the Richard Loitam, Dana Sangma and now Nido Tania cases have the possibility of opening many old wounds which have only been tenuously resolved in recent times. It is not surprising that in the midst of the protest against racism, one protester chanted “Hame kya chhahiye? Azadi chhahiye.” This was echoed by many others who were there. It was a spontaneous act but one that stands witness to the fact that even if the Azadi is not about self-determination any longer, it echoes an underlying sense that they have never belonged. If we fail to understand that the call for freedom first and foremost emanates from the struggle against racism and discrimination, we run the risk of collapsing into what Tagore once described as a world broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls.

Caste Based Reservations Don’t Make Sense Anymore, Here’s Why I Think They Should Go!

It happens only in India. And it happens mostly during elections, when political parties out to

secure votes begin doling out reservation quotas like cash or gas subsidy. For the 2014 general

elections, the drive to bribe as many votes as possible has already begun. First, the Jains, a

community comprising mostly upper-class and middle-class, were given minority status and

related benefits. Congress then went ahead demanding quota for Jats, another tribe of rich

land-owners capable of taking care of themselves. (Though Congress vehemently denies the

link to elections but Jats are present in large numbers in nine North Indian states.) Now, the

Congress-led UPA government has moved the Supreme Court seeking inclusion of Muslims in

the 27% OBC quota.Let it be said here in the beginning that reservation has today truly lost its

meaning. The quota system was officially introduced in India in 1982 to ensure the historically

disadvantaged communities with no equal access to resources live a dignified life and get a

level-playing field. To put words into action, it was decided that 22.5% of seats in educational

institutes and government jobs will be filled by SC/STs.Over the years, however, as senior

journalist Tavleen Singh wrote, “it has given birth to a distorted mindset that the government

would take care of everyone’s needs even if nobody lifted a finger.” The reservation system has

today become an easy way, creating a population that feeds off welfare payments and lacks the

motivation to improve their surroundings and status. Myopic politics continues to win even as

merit is damned.Reservation can never be the route to equality. It is a tool that works as a

propeller for few, not an equalizer for all. If, however, everyone gets equal resources, do we

then still need a reservation system? If I say the disadvantaged would not be that

disadvantaged in terms of access to resources, is there still a need to secure them under a

socialist environment when the majority struggles in a free-market one?Consider the UPA

government’s three crucial flagship schemes — MGNREGA, Right to Education and Food

Security Bill. Though the three populist schemes have earned their share of laurels and labels

from its supporters and critics, the UPA’s trident has raised a more pertinent question: If the

government is giving guaranteed employment, free food and free education to all, do we then

need caste-based reservation?The Right to Free and Compulsory Education Act was launched in

2010 to give every child an equal education. According to the Census 2011, around 36% of the

entire illiterate population in the country is from the backward classes — the ones that need

access to education most urgently and the ones that the RTE Act hopes to reach. According to

the 2012-13 annual report of the HRD ministry, in 2009-10, before enactment of RTE Act, the

enrolment of SC/ST children was 5.77 crore which has increased to 6.11 crore in 2011-12.The

National Food Security law, as it states in the bill, is more deeply connected with ensuring

that “people get quality food to live their lives with dignity”. It aims to provide highly subsidized

food grains to approximately two-third of India’s 1.2 billion people. Interestingly, as defined in

the law, 75% of the beneficiaries will be from rural areas. Considering that 73% of India’s

population lives in the villages, it means that everyone in rural India will be eating quality food

at a negligible cost. What is more important is that out of the 73% rural population, 30% are

SC/STs. Hence, dalits form one of the biggest beneficiaries of the food bill. As revealed in NFHS-

3 data, 54% of SC/ST children are severely malnourished.In case of the MGNREGA scheme, the

government’s own admission is worth reading. “Five crore families have been benefitted so far

and two lakh crore rupees spent. Out of this, 50% beneficiaries are from SC, ST sections and 70%

of money has been utilized for giving wages.”The three schemes together guarantee the SC/STs

an equal right on quality food, nourishment, education, prosperity and livelihood — the crucial

elements that can ensure they sustain a dignified livelihood and enable them for the challenges

of a free-market system. Why is reservation needed when every child, irrespective of their

caste, gets the same food to eat and same books to read? Why is reservation needed when

everyone begins from the same point?Emancipation of any caste cannot be achieved by mere

seat allotments. What is immediately needed is an effective, quality implementation of the

three schemes to see they deliver to every caste the promised access to equal resources and

opportunity that the quota system has and will fail to plug. These three schemes, if properly

implemented, can create an infrastructure that enables hard-work and merit to rise from any

caste or class bracket of the country. Most importantly, they can put an end to the present

toxic culture of handing out free, untied welfare benefits to everyone who is not needy and

undeserving.There comes a time when almost everything overstays its welcome and India’s

reservation system is one of them. The idea was brought-in in the hope that it would erase the

caste lines and divisions in the Indian society, but it ended up etching them even deeper,

redefining the hatred among general castes against lower castes. It was thought that

reservation would promote greater social mobility for the weaker sections and would empower

them but it ended up making them vulnerable tools of vote-bank politics. It is thus time we let it

go. And we have three very good reasons to do so.