Recent socio-anthropological studies have made the concept of reflexivity (Wilson & Karliova, 2021) apparent by drawing attention to researchers’ inter-subjective experiences, biases, and privileges at various points in the research process. An examination of the researcher’s strengths and weaknesses through this form of reflexive narrative reveals both the researcher’s privileges and the social reality in which they operate. My experience is quite comparable. As a middle-class Brahmin, my doctoral dissertation is presently centred on the identification processes of Uttarakhand’s Kumaoni Brahmin community.
Due to the unavailability of a caste census, we do not have demographic details based on caste lines. However, informed guesses put the Brahmin population of Uttarakhand at about 20% (compared to 4% nationally, as per PEW Research 2021). There is a unique meeting point between traditional caste ideals and contemporary institutions in Uttarakhand, thanks to the high number of Brahmins there. As an example, there is a strong preference for caste homogamy, geographical concentration based on caste, caste homophily among Brahmins, and a tight adherence to purity-pollution mandates. Because of my caste, I was able to participate in the private lives of the Brahmins, including their houses, temples, religious ceremonies, and other cultural events, as well as their covert interactions, which would have been inconceivable for academics from other ontologies.
The actors (Brahmins) in my study expressed their gratitude towards me for being a Brahmin myself and conducting research on Brahmins. One of them commented, “…everyone focusses on ‘those’ individuals [referring to the ‘lower’ caste population], finally someone has arrived who will document our experiences as well.” They all address me using fictive kinship terms (chyal [son)] or dajyu [big brother]). Additionally, they expect that I should embody the characteristics of an ideal Brahmin, i.e., to perform in a Brahminical manner or present oneself according to Brahmanical habitus (Bourdieu, 1997). Whether it’s my diet, my political beliefs, or, most humorously, my wedding plans, there is a scrutinising eye on me constantly. I want to clarify here that I am not claiming to be casteless in any manner; rather, I am well aware of the tangible and intangible societal benefits that have accrued to me as a result of my caste capital.
Kumaon has a similar prevalence of spatial caste-based segregation as any other Indian village. I visit ‘Harijan’[i] hamlets for my research, which Brahmins often avoid or visit only in dire circumstances. My unrestrained sociability frequently incites ire among older Brahmins. They always sprinkle me with gaunt (a concoction of water and cow urine) when I visit their house or courtyard, believing that I am constantly living in a state of impurity (they are well aware that I often visit the Harijan hamlet and may have eaten food there). Subsequently, my meat-eating habits had also become known in the village, despite my best efforts to hide them. Young ones publicly make fun of my de-casted actions. One of the young lads, aged 16, who happens to be my distant cousin, said in a jovial tone (yet there was a warning underneath): “Mummy ise (referring to me) rasoi me khana na do yeh Kailu ke Ghar gaya tha”[Mother, don’t give him (referring to me) food in the kitchen. He had gone to Kailu’s (a Scheduled Caste Individual) house]. Among them, I frequently hear that “harkatein iski harijan jaisi hain” (his [referring to me] actions are those of a Harijan). The Brahmin people find my adventures in the field annoying, yet they never openly manifest strong disapproval. “Pant ji, you have come from Mumbai for a few days, so no one says anything to you,” I was told. It turned out to me that I was so much an insider that caste expectations were placed on me and sufficiently an outsider that my mistakes were tolerated.
While the Brahmins around me regard me as someone who frequently goes beyond traditional caste ethics, the non-Brahmin actors (particularly those from the scheduled caste) still regard me as an ideal Brahmin. They forced me to sit outside on the verandah rather than inside the house, provided water only on demand, and served me only packaged foods (potato chips, biscuits), implying that nothing was cooked in their kitchen, just like they always do with other Brahmins. My unrestricted sociability surprises them all, and they try to maintain a social distance from me (as other ideal Brahmins usually do), demonstrating how oppression cultivates such an epistemology in which the oppressed also routinizes their oppression and makes it a part of their daily lives.
For the past nine months, I’ve been working with a polymorphous identity (Clifford, 1988) in which I become a part of the Brahmin lived-world by using my caste capital as needed while also displaying my castelessness (Deshpande, 2013). It seems to me that researchers like me, who hail from a certain privileged location, are the only ones who can experience these kinds of ontological oscillations. Perhaps, whether one believes it or not, everyone engages in some level of fieldwork diplomacy. This type of diplomacy, when researching up, i.e., studying privileged circles, frequently entails concealing the prime motive of one’s exploration with an alternative masked motive in order to maintain a cordial rapport with participants. During my initial interactions, I explicitly stated that my primary objective was to document the current social transformations and difficulties experienced by Kumaoni Brahmins. My research work was well-received by everyone as I delved into the broad and uncritical theme. As a result, I was able to gain access to the lived experiences of Kumaoni Brahmins, particularly their intimate aspects of life. Nevertheless, my stints in the field were on the verge of undergoing a transformation.
The proliferation of technology has given rise to a novel form of social connectedness, even in rural communities, facilitated by platforms such as Facebook, Instagram, and WhatsApp groups. I have established connections with numerous participants (mostly the younger generations) through these platforms. My political inclinations, which I attempted to conceal during my fieldwork, were exposed to the public due to my posts on social media. Some even showed strong resentment towards my old posts. Although my unrestricted sociability with non-‘upper’ caste groups initially caused a silent chaos, the subsequent expression of my political inclinations posed a potent methodological obstacle for me. Colloquial conversations now seem formal. Where earlier they used to own and celebrate their caste-ontology in public, now in my presence they present themselves as modern (read to portray themselves as a casteless subject). Now conversations are only focused on cultural-ritualistic topics (such as the origin theories of Brahmins in Kumaon, the importance of religious rituals, the contribution of Brahmins in the evolving culture of Kumaon, their involvement in the Uttarakhand separate statehood movement, etc.). The overt pride, or rather patriotism (Pandian, 1992), that they used to exhibit towards their caste (being Brahmins) is now noticeably diminished in my presence. They are now seen evading or giving politically correct answers to the queries I raise.
I am beginning to feel as if I am moving away from the prime actors and objectives of my exploration. A quandary has emerged, and such unexpected dilemmas are unavoidable in qualitative research. Just as we expect something from the field, the field has performative expectations for the explorer, and these expectations implicitly reveal the complexities of social structures. It appears that I will need to make dramaturgical (Goffman, 1959) adjustments in order to present myself as an apt Brahmin and alleviate the resentment that has risen in front of my participants.
References:
Bourdieu, P. (1977). Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge University Press.
Clifford, J. (1988). The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-century Ethnography, Literature, and Art. Harvard University Press.
Deshpande, S. (2013). Caste and Castelessness: Towards a Biography of the ‘General Category’. Economic and Political Weekly. 48(15): 32-39.
Goffman, E. (1959). The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. Anchor Books.
Pandian, M. S. S. (1992). Caste, Nationalism and the Dravidian Movement. Economic and Political Weekly.27(31):1633-1640.
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Bhawesh Pant is a senior research fellow at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS) Mumbai. The focus of his doctoral research is an exploration of the processes of identification among the Brahmin community in Uttarakhand.
[i] The term ‘Harijan’ was chosen deliberately because it is common in Kumaoni local parlance. Self-assertive agential references, such as Dalit, are not particularly relevant in Kumaon Social.