Caste, Christ and the Constitution
After reading the Supreme Court decision in Chintada Anand v. State of AP, I am impelled to doff my hat to the invisible resilience of the caste system. There is something deeply ironical in a practicing Christian—and a pastor at that—claiming that he was discriminated against on the basis of his caste,a remnant of his previous religion.Caste,if you will,is like a buffalo’s skin—impervious to washing; even after washing it a thousand times, its colour refuses to change from black.
At the centre of the debate on conversion and caste lies an uncomfortable paradox. Christianity, a founded on the teachings of Jesus Christ and shaped by the egalitarian visionof Paul the Apostle, proclaims that all believers are equal. Yet, in India, this lofty ideal encounters a social reality that seems curiously unmoved.
Caste, that most enduring of Indian institutions, appears to accompany the convert with quiet persistence,as if guarding him against the contaminating influence of the ove and equality taught by Christ. However, the pertinent questions that arise are: Why does caste persist? How has it endured numerous challenges?
Therefore, one must begin by looking at the root cause. The Hindu caste system, codified in the Dharmasutras by Manu, Apastamba and Yajnavalkya and others, has over the centuries taken a firm hold on the Hindu mind, drilling into it a sense of fixed social station. It is a system where hierarchy is foundational,where birth scripts destiny with a firmness that even modernity struggles to erase.A Hindu was taught that caste was divinely ordained,and any transgression would invite punishment from the King on earth—and in Hell, which has no specific address.
Having perfected itself over generations, though reformers, whether assertive like Basava or more accommodative like Ramanuja, have attempted to challenge it, it has continued to endure and thrive.It now displays an almost ironic adaptability—travelling across religions and quietly adapting itself to modern democratic institutions as well.
It is against this backdrop that conversion to Christianity must be seen—whether it truly offers a path to dignity and equality, or whether it makes little difference to one’s social status. The emergence of identities such as Syrian Christians, Reddy Christians, Nadar Christians, and Dalit Christians—oxy morons in themselves—indicates that caste has not so much disappeared as had been relabelled.
This leads to a fundamental question: if conversion does not substantially alter one’s social status, whatexactly is gained? Faith,no doubt,is deeply personal.One may sincerely believe in Christ and follow his teachings. But such belief does not, in itself, necessitate formal conversion—especially when conversion entails the loss of constitutional protections tied to caste identity. One is then compelled to ask whether it is prudent to exchange tangible safeguards for an ecclesiastical equality that is, in practice, largely notional.
Ineffect,conversion does not result in social ransformation; it is more a change of setting,leaving the underlying discrimination intact. Essentially, it boils down to three Cs: Caste, Christ, and the Constitution. In the contest between Caste and Christ, as everyone would agree, the undoubted winner is Caste, often aided in no small measure by fellow Christians themselves.
It is, therefore, the Constitution that has emerged as the principal instrument of equality for the oppressed. It has made equality the bedrock of governance. It has abolished discrimination in all forms. It has conferred rights on all, which are essential to any humane society. But this project of equality remains a work in progress.It would certainly take many more decades,if not centuries,to address this discrimination—that is, if humanity does not destroy itself before that. Then, of course, caste is sure to disappear. Or will it not, even then?
(The writer is Retired Principal Commissioner of Income Tax )