In this Section
A summary of the first lecture in the IK Foundation Lecture Series, 'Indian Culture in the Modern World'. 23rd October 2002, London.
Second speaker: Ms Nima Suchak, Journalist and youth representative The Eastern Eye and Hindu Youth UK
Isn't it ironic how a young woman has been given a platform to raise concern about the Hindu caste system? Simply my presence could be seen as almost a conclusion as to where we have come from and where we have moved. But let me not begin with a conclusion.
First, let me tell you what I won't be offering. I'm not an academic, nor do I pretend to know the ins and outs of the caste system. Of course, I'm only 25 and I say only because I'm not bringing a wealth of experience, neither am I conveying the realisations of an evolving community.
What I will offer, however, is a discussion on how my generation and I are a part of the ongoing change taking place within the Hindu community.
Our lives are very different from my parent's generation, and even more removed from my grandparent's, but what will the situation be for my children, and the future generations? Interestingly, within this change, it appears that the application of the caste system is also changing. We can see how the naaths are still fulfilling a certain role in the community, but how different is the role of the caste compared to previously?
Within this dilemma, I wish to explore the notion that the caste system is still a very real concept, and one that we can't, or may not want to really divorce ourselves from. I would like to discuss how caste is a concept that not only affects the Hindu community, but also has wider application and implication.
Personally, I grew up quite big on caste. My grandfather was the chairperson of the Lohana community, and attending community events was something our family participated in eagerly. Growing up Wembley, I was surrounded by Gujarati Hindus. So the question of whether one was a Lohani, Kutchi, or a Patlani was often discussed, but these discussions dwindled as we got older. I was only reminded of my so-called 'clan' when I graduated and was called upon the Lohana podium to collect my Parker pen prize.
As I waited for my name to be called, I reminisced those university years.
I had had a great time mixing with friends of different castes, communities, colours and creeds. I lived with my friends as if we were one family. We looked out for each other, understood each other, and enjoyed each other's company... it was plain to see how similar we were.
So, as my name was called out to collect my Parker pen, I questioned what this exchange was all about. Was it about celebrating my university degree? Or, was it a reminder of what caste I was born in to? Was it an invitation from the elders of the community to re-align me to their ideology and acceptance of the Lohana label? And if so, was this what I wanted?
Did I understand what it meant and was I ready to accept something undefined as a direction for the rest of my life? I'm just one person within a large community. How many others, I wonder, are in the same boat?
Now my real use of the Parker pen was for writing out those lengthy job applications. That was my real concern. Compared to previous times, when applying for a job, one's surname isn't going to give away his or her social class or caste. Nobody looks at your surname, unless of course, you're caught up in the old boy's network, a caste in itself. Imagine not getting that dream job as an accountant, a position you may have worked hard for all your life, simply because your surname isn't Patel? Doesn't that sound a little bit like racism? When I'm applying for a job, I hope, as I expect most do, that it's purely my capacity as a young professional that comes into question.
The caste 'naath-jaath' system can however be a lot of fun during festivals.
A lot of Hindu youth look towards their own castes when either choosing where to celebrate Navratri, or where to go to say Happy Diwali to the community. By seeing the rise of such celebrations in the UK, the Indian community is admired and almost envied for its solidarity. Imagine our community without such functions, how boring would that be? Where would you hear the latest gossip? Socially, the caste system is a reality that fulfils the need of belonging-ness, and these events are the common ground of the community.
"We are Raghuvanshis," I would hear at our Diwali events, physically seeing the pride and confidence of the community leaders. But I have found that it is this reality, and identification that can be alienating to the youth of these very castes.
Inevitably, it is the social function of the community that brings the whole system of "So, do you want to marry my daughter."
Marriage is a time that almost all Hindu youth really take the caste system seriously whether they like it or not. How many times do we hear that this community can't marry that community? How many Bollywood movies have been made on that very principle?
When a woman is looking to get married, she gets sent out to actively look for eligible men. So what does a woman look for? The credentials stretch as long as my arm. Not only does my potential partner have to be Indian, and speak the same language... he has to be a Hindu, a professional, good looking, come from a good family, and of course, be from the same caste. Now, that's a lot of credentials to worry about when trying to find a life partner.
My West-African friend once asked me: "Nima, aren't you limiting your chances of finding a soul mate?" "No," I replied. I explained to him that every woman, regardless of her ethnic origin looks for a partner based on these criteria. As well as looking for the regular things, the Hindu girl is encouraged to actively seek these very qualities in a man of the same caste. Caste, it seems, is about family and the retention of values in the community.
I smile when I hear my grandmother confirm that the Lohana community descends from Lord Rama... 'This is Royal blood beta, we are Raghuvansi," she would say to me. It's funny to hear it, and sort of cool. What's even cooler, however, is that in the last 18 months, I've seen nearly 7 Lohana boys. Boys, sweet in their own way, took me out, bought me coffee and were ready to share with me their pride of being Lohana. They would look at me to see if I could be their suitable girl.
No doubt inspired by their grandmothers, they tried hard... but 7 boys later; I'm happily single.
I'm not rejecting the system here. It's obvious to any Hindu that marrying within the same caste has huge benefits.
Marrying into a caste means to marry into a community. My mentor recently told me: "It takes a couple to get married, but a village to raise a baby."
We realise that marriage is the meeting of two families, not simply two individuals. Most families within the same caste are very similar, which is why it all seems so different when you attend functions held by a different caste.
By abiding by the 'same caste' law, many other requirements are already taken care of.
If I were to choose a boy from my caste, my family would only need to know a few details to work out his social position, his reputation, and possibly even his upbringing. The marriage would be a huge event - a rightful excuse to have the biggest party in Middlesex!
Even after marriage, any problems between the couple would be quickly ironed out with the help of well wishing relatives.
An added benefit is that there's not much need to remould yourself after marriage. How many times have you heard people laughing because the new bride has got a Soorti accent, when the family is from Kathiawad? Same caste means same language, same little habits and same social circles.
I was listening to the Srimad Bhagavad katha recently... it was the story of Devahuti - one of the great celebrated ladies of the Vedic age. In hearing her story I learnt how she chose to marry a simple man - no frills or a fancy job - not even a pension.
I learned that her parents were interested in the qualification of the person. What benefit would their daughter get? It was further explained how unmarried girls usually pray to Lord Shiva and Parvati Maa.
But why pray to Lord Shiva? He's hardly the house in Moor Park, holidays in the Bahamas type. In fact, we'd be lucky if we managed to get him home from the crematorium. Therefore it must be something to do with the kind of person he is - his values and moreover, his character and qualities. Is it any wonder then, that the great Mother of the universe chose to have him as her husband?
Although Hindus are almost always under fire for intra caste struggles, it is obvious that caste is not only a Hindu issue. It is a situation, however, that we almost always have to answer for?
Let's take for example, the British. The British class system is affected severely by social division - A, B, C1, C2, D, The British have taken the economic approach, a caste system in itself. And even here we find the same rigidity.
If I were the daughter of Lord Motamanas, could I marry the son of a bricklayer? No! Even if I loved him? No way! So the daughter of Mr Motamanas is devastated. She could be stubborn, and either make the headlines by eloping, or, even more sadly, for having taken her life with the picture of her bricklayer lover in hand - Mills and Boon style. This is what novels are made of, but it's happening everywhere.
The caste system is real; it controls us and moulds our social interactions and, importantly our social values.
In Hinduism, the caste system is part of the social body. Society is considered to be a body, with head, arms, legs, and stomach. All of these parts are serving the body, all with important functions.
Similarly, the divisions in caste tend to be centred on occupation and the types of work a person is engaged in.
There is the intelligent - the priestly Brahmins, the advisories, the heads of society. Then there are the defence and administrative communities, the Kshatriyas that act as the arms of the body. The vaishyas are the stomach of society, acting as providers. The Sudras are the legs and feet of society, supporting the three other castes in service.
Now let us look at the idea of harmony. If my big toe is in pain, do I ignore it? No! The intelligence of my head directs my arms and hands to pick up the appropriate medicine and treat the pain. If my intelligence chooses to ignore the foot, not only would the pain in the foot increase, but no doubt the pain would spread throughout the body. In a similar way, society has these four divisions meant to be working together. The different communities and naaths that we belong to, all stem from these divisions - their suited occupation.
This is the system that Krishna introduces in the Bhagavad Gita as Catur Varnyam - Krishna says: "according to the three modes of material nature and the work associated with them, the four divisions of human society are created by Me."
Just as the body functions around the heart, the social body also needs to function around a core principle in order to work. God.
When the body functions around the heart, the body is in harmony. When you remove the heart, the body doesn't function... it is dead.
The social body also needs to function around a core principle. When that core is missing, the social body is defunct.
The experience of our changing society is the departure of our service to God. However, this departure has brought about an inward paradigm - a system of each to their own.
The caste system seems void and defunct because this principle is missing. We are witnessing not only departure from service to God, but also a departure from the co-operation of the various occupations, serving the needs of society.
So we can see our caste system is real. But what is it based on now?
After finishing university, me getting a job was based on my qualification. The marriage of Lord Shiva was based on his qualification and the alignment of people to a particular cast is based on their qualification - whether it is intelligence; administrative; business; or service or labour.
But what are our challenges? Is it the retention of the family name? Is the retention of cultural integrity? Or maybe our spiritual values? If we're attached to name, and name implies identity, the real question is; what is our identity?
How well does the caste system serve these challenges? Is there hope for the caste system of the Hindu community? Is it enough to align yourself with a jaath-jaathi simply because you were born into it?
Is it the responsibility of the community to define the caste system for our community in Britain? But who is qualified to do this work?
For instance, in the last thirty years, we have seen a very revolutionary application of the caste system. In the International Society for Krishna Consciousness, there are Smiths, Jones' and Murphy's accepting the traditional diksha of a Brahmin, serving as Hindu priests.
Similarly, we have Pandya's and Mehta's engaged in multi-million pound businesses. We can clearly see that the system is evolving, it's becoming apparent and is only natural that a person is only engaged in occupation according to education, ability and mentality.
Maybe we need to discuss if the system is more appropriately designed to look at the qualification of a person rather than his birth?
Dare I say, is it possible to have a more sensible caste system... a caste system with perhaps another basis?
If hierarchy is a reality of every society, as we can see it is, then it's up to us to choose a system that supports the values of our community.
It may be that we are the Lohanas, Mochis and Patels in this country, or even the Punjabi Jats, or Bengalis... but Hindus in this country may have to redefine their concept of community and family in order to preserve what they consider valuable.
Unless we begin to deal with giving our system direction, it could simply be left to time. Rather than evolve, it could simply disintegrate.
We could just merge into ill defined Britishness or individually centred materialism and lose any sense of community value that the previous generations have tried so hard to instil, develop, and preserve.
We may find our children worshipping in the market of the shopping mall, and the advertising industry could be our Gurus. The answer, I think, is in how adaptable our community can be, but also how faithful.
In order to be faithful and adaptable, it first needs to be knowledgeable, but that could be the focus of another discussion.
If left in its present state, the caste system will continue to alienate the fresh generations of British youth, and may find the community totally assimilated. Perfectly British in terms of value.
We could always work harder to become more integrated - bringing our values and principles with us.
We can be British Hindus, with a rich culture we've been able to retain, whilst being harmoniously integrated into British culture.
The choice is ours, the future is in our hands.