Writer Perumal Murugan’s son’s inter-caste wedding involving Brahminical rituals has been defended as a necessary compromise and a matter of individual choice, but such excuses only set back the anti-caste movement, writes Aazhi.
Tamil writer Perumal Murugan’s son got married on February 1. It was an inter-caste love marriage between a Gounder groom and a Brahmin bride. Along with the congratulations that poured in for the young couple, many concerns were also raised by social media users over the Brahminical rituals followed during the wedding ceremony. Perumal Murugan’s anti-caste stance and ideology were questioned. Even though he was not required to justify his adult son’s choices to the public, Perumal Murugan wrote a piece titled ‘Jaadhiyai Thavirpadhu Eppodhu Saathiyam?’ (‘When is it possible to avoid caste?’) on the Tamil website Arunchol. This was followed by activist and Carnatic musician TM Krishna’s column titled ‘Weddings need rituals to be celebrations, but they need not be casteist’ in Deccan Herald, addressing the same subject.
Both the articles — without assuming any absolute moral position on caste — lay down the practical difficulties that arise and the compromises that are sought when two families belonging to different caste groups try to reach a consensus on the wedding rituals to be performed. They also emphasise how difficult it is to make anti-caste choices in general, given how deeply ingrained casteism is in our society. It is quite evident that the authors’ caste positions, and the section of readers their articles are aimed at, have shaped the content of these essays. While Perumal Murugan’s article speaks to his fellow Dravidian folk, TM Krishna through his caste privilege gains access to his fellow Brahmins and tries to engage with them in a meaningful dialogue on caste.
Both articles raise important concerns that the anti-caste discourse must engage with: Can such rituals be dismissed as benign casteism? Is having a non-ritualistic anti-caste wedding necessary? How do we engage with ‘non-casteist’, ‘poonool’ (caste thread)-wearing brahmins? What kind of conversations are (counter)productive to the anti-caste movement?
In modern times, there is a serious attempt to recast and relabel casteist rituals as ‘cultural practices’. The problem, however, is much bigger than the nomenclature alone — it lies in the casteist value systems that these rituals embody and perpetuate.
For instance, most Hindu rituals are structured around the Brahmin male figure and place him at the centre. He is viewed as the epitome of ideality and purity while all other beings (including Brahmin women) are considered ‘impure’ and ‘polluting’ figures. The degree of ‘impurity’ varies, depending on one’s gender and caste status. It is this notion of purity and pollution that has led to untouchability, spatial segregation, temple entry prohibition and many more discriminatory practices.
The Brahmin male, endowed with sacerdotal and priestly power, assumes the religious authority to govern, dictate and control basic aspects of people’s lives — from naming newborn babies to approving life partners and performing last rites. In addition to these events, there are innumerable poojas, homams, and other such rituals done for various purposes. Let us not forget the fact that the Brahmin male benefits monetarily from all of these customs. And that is why it seems almost frivolous that Perumal Murugan rejoices over Tamil being ‘graciously’ included in the wedding chants by the priest who initially refused to do so. As long as the authority remains his and it is he who provides legitimacy to the wedding, the Brahmin male can afford to be as ‘flexible’ as he wants.
Brahminical rituals are not exclusively practised by privileged castes alone. Through what Ambedkar refers to as the “infection of imitation”, Brahminical practices have become common among many other castes as well. People from lowered castes ‘imitate’ the practices of privileged castes, having adopted them in the hope that they too would get to enjoy the same social prestige and advantages that the privileged castes do. Many practices and rituals of various caste groups are thus ‘Brahminised’. Even if some rituals outwardly oppose the authority of the Brahmin male, they remain essentially casteist, as the notions of superiority, exclusion, and purity and pollution are kept intact.
Challenging the authority of both the Brahmin male and Brahminism is central to anti-caste movements. Back in the 19th century, Jyotirao Phule’s Satyashodhak Samaj (Truth Seekers’ Society) performed simple Satyashodhak weddings, without employing Brahmin priests as officiators or involving any kind of Brahminical rituals. Phule conceptualised this ceremony as a challenge to Brahmin supremacy even when the legality of such weddings was contested. In the 20th century, Periyar’s self-respect movement formulated weddings of equality that opposed rituals perpetuating caste and gender hierarchies. In self-respect weddings, marriage was seen as a contract between two equals, defying notions of Brahminical orthodoxy that treated people as inferiors based on their caste and gender. Devoid of religious conventionalities and restrictions, self-respect marriages open up avenues for inclusive weddings that aren’t cisnormative and heteronormative — a recent example being the self-respect wedding between Arun Faiz, a trans man and Aruna Devi, a cis woman.
When such legally valid anti-caste wedding practices are slowly gaining wider societal acceptance, offering a modern liberal rationale in favour of traditional casteist weddings is counterproductive to anti-caste politics. Casteist and patriarchal rituals are physically, mentally, emotionally and monetarily taxing for those involved. Rather than articles romanticising such practices, we need more sensitive writing that can help people see the undue significance and sentimentality attached to these rituals.
In a highly unequal society, inventing wedding rituals that are non-discriminatory is nearly an impossible task. Civil and self-respect marriages, therefore, are the only viable options. In this context, to dismiss these alternatives as “dry and boring affairs”, or a “platform for propagandists to give long lectures”, is quite unnecessary. If the presence of a government official is regarded as arbitrary in a civil wedding, then so is the Brahmin priest’s presence in a traditional Hindu wedding. The absence of rigidity in a self-respect wedding makes it ideal for the ceremony to be creatively tailored according to the individual desires of each couple or family. Celebrations and joy are experienced when people come together and engage in collective activity, and not necessarily while performing rituals.
It is indeed true that a couple has to fight many battles when they opt for an inter-caste marriage, as the families would have various objections. But deciding the manner in which the wedding is celebrated is also an important fight worth engaging in. Even if the battle to have a non-ritualistic, anti-caste wedding is ultimately lost, the fact that there was a fight is in itself a win for the anti-caste movement.
Since endogamy is the essence of caste, exogamous marriages provide the hope for creating an egalitarian casteless society. But if an inter-caste marriage merely ends up assimilating the [lowered caste] bride or groom into the privileged caste, and continues to perpetuate the practices and norms of that particular caste, it defeats the very (anti-caste) purpose of such unions. Inter-caste marriages must dilute the caste differences between the couple and destabilise caste rigidity, as it is these very ‘differences’ that become the basis for hierarchy and discrimination.
Conversations about caste become obfuscated when they foreground the person involved, and not the casteist action itself. On most occasions, any noise over casteist actions is raised only with the intention of condemning the doer of the action. Sometimes, in order to protect the person, excuses are provided and casteist actions are justified. Addressing the action itself would prevent the conversation from getting derailed. Over 2000 years of caste has solidified many actions as casteist — the practice of vegetarianism in India, for instance. Whether a particular action is casteist or not cannot be decided by individuals alone. Their general perception among those who perform such actions doesn’t matter either, as such practices exist within a larger social structure that already identifies the action as casteist. Regardless of their intention and purpose, casteist actions only strengthen the existing caste system. Hiring a Brahmin male to officiate weddings reinforces his authority in society. Strictly following caste customs keeps the caste system rigid and intact. Wearing a ‘poonool’ — a marker of Brahmin superiority — is casteist, irrespective of the ‘non-casteist’ character of the wearer.
Honest conversations about caste become possible when such actions are seen and analysed independently, disconnected from those who perform them. The serious repercussions that casteist actions bring about in society must be discussed without the singular intention of either protecting or cancelling the people involved. It is conversations like these that can strengthen and advance the anti-caste discourse. Loyalty to one’s community, the need to look out for one’s people, and the liberals’ pretence of defending individual choice are hindrances to these conversations.
Aazhi is a research scholar in the Department of English at Stella Maris College, Chennai. Views expressed are the author’s own.
Source: The News Minute