Amartya Sen, in his discussion on Indian identity, illustrates the complex relationship between culture and religion through the example of two iconic figures in Indian classical music: Pandit Ravi Shankar, a sitar virtuoso, and Ustad Ali Akbar Khan, a master of the sarod. Sen argues that while they can be distinguished by their expertise in different instruments, labeling them as “Hindu musicians” or “Muslim musicians” oversimplifies their identities (Sen, p. 57)1. Both are integral to the shared cultural heritage of Hindustani music, which transcends religious boundaries.
Interestingly, there has been a historical shift in how these musicians were identified. Around 150 to 200 years ago, titles like “Pandit,” associated with learned individuals, were applied universally, including to Muslim musicians. Over time, however, Muslim musicians began adopting the title “Ustad,” a term rooted in Arabic and Persian traditions meaning “master” or “teacher.” This evolution enabled them to assert their religious and cultural identity within a shared musical tradition, underscoring the nuanced nature of identity in cultural participation.
The shift from the title Pandit to Ustad among Muslim musicians in the Hindustani classical tradition reflects broader cultural and religious influences, particularly as Muslim musicians gained prominence during the Mughal era. Under British colonial rule, this distinction became more pronounced as the British administration categorized communities by religious identity, enforcing a “divide and rule” policy. Census classifications and patronage practices accentuated religious distinctions, fostering separate communal identities that permeated social, political, and cultural spheres, including classical music.
In the 19th and early 20th centuries, British colonial policies, combined with emerging nationalist movements, intensified these divisions. Titles like Pandit and Ustad began to carry communal connotations, embedding religious identity within musical roles and performance contexts. Nationalist movements sometimes promoted a Hindu cultural identity that framed itself as distinct from Muslim contributions. Scholars such as Max Katz2 and Katherine Butler Brown3 note that British cultural narratives, alongside Hindu revivalist movements, emphasized a “pure” Indian identity that further segregated art forms, marking certain titles and musical practices as distinctly Hindu or Muslim.
For instance, Brown examines how shifts in cultural identities, such as the preference for Ustad over Pandit, were influenced by the socio-political context of Aurangzeb’s reign, while Katz explores the textual traditions of Hindustani music’s Muslim hereditary professionals.
Sen emphasizes that in a secular democracy like India, individuals should not be restricted or defined solely by religious affiliations. He explains, “There is a difference between a constitutionally secular nation with a majority Hindu population and a theocratic Hindu state that might see Hinduism as its official religion”4 Here, Sen underscores Indian secularism as a constitutional assurance, not a platform for religious dominance. Drawing a comparison to the United States, which, though predominantly Christian, upholds a constitutional secularism that maintains neutrality toward all religions, Sen advocates for a similar approach for India.
For comparison, when the United States declared independence in 1776, its religious communities were diverse in size. Although the new polity could have been described as “largely Christian,” much like India is often viewed as “mainly Hindu,” the U.S. Constitution took a neutral stance on specific beliefs, respecting both Christian and non-Christian communities alike (pp. 54-55).5
In India, even though the term “Indian” is relatively recent, identity shifts based on context often arise in response to societal and situational cues. While abroad, one might primarily identify as Indian, within India, regional identities take precedence, such as South Indian, Tamilian, and distinctions based on language, caste, subcaste, and even age group. This layered approach to identity underscores the societal framework in which titles like Pandit or Ustad unfold, illustrating that societal expectations frequently shape personal identity.
This dynamic is not unique to India; in the U.S., despite self-identification, societal labels often categorize individuals based on visible or cultural traits. For instance, Barack Obama was widely recognized as the first African American president, while Kamala Harris was celebrated for her Indian heritage. Such categorizations highlight that identity can be shaped as much by societal perception as by personal choice, echoing the dilemmas faced by artists deciding between Pandit and Ustad.
In India, the complexity of identity manifests in unique ways. Religious minorities, such as Christians or Muslims, may prioritize their religious identity first, followed by their national identity as Indians. This prioritization is generally not perceived as communal but as a need for representation within a diverse society. For example, when asked if they identify first as Indians or as Christians or Muslims, many in these communities might say their religious identity comes first.
In contrast, a Hindu might more likely respond without hesitation that they are both Hindu and Indian. As Sudhir Kakar insightfully notes in Conflict: Hindus and Muslims, the self-identification of a Hindu often emerges only in relation to the presence of a Muslim, whereas Muslims do not necessarily rely on the presence of Hindus to affirm their identity. Kakar encapsulates this dynamic with his observation, “A Hindu is born only when the Muslim enters the scene”.6
Further distinguishing the Hindu experience, Hindus in India are typically identified by caste, ethnicity, or even by non-religious beliefs like atheism, rather than by religion alone. Despite this, Hindus are often expected to emphasize a secular national identity rather than a religious one, as overt expressions of Hindu identity are frequently labeled “communal” by those wary of majoritarianism. This duality within Indian secularism presents a unique balancing act: while religious minorities are encouraged to express their identities for visibility and protection, the Hindu majority is often urged to subdue theirs to uphold secular ideals. This asymmetry illustrates the nuanced challenges within India’s secular framework, where identity is both celebrated and constrained depending on context and community.
India’s secularism, however, has both unique strengths and challenges. Unlike nations where religious identity is tightly controlled, India allows a plurality of expressions. For instance, Hindu temples can be found nationwide, welcoming worshippers regardless of caste or creed. This contrasts with countries where sectarian lines restrict religious expression, as in Shia-majority Iran, where Sunni Muslims cannot establish separate mosques. Despite its majority Hindu population, India does not impose similar restrictions, allowing various religious practices, including temples dedicated to non-traditional figures like film stars.
Yet, criticisms and contradictions remain within the practice of Indian secularism. While the framework ideally means that “minority status” does not affect constitutional rights, special protections for minorities sometimes foster divisions. The debate continues over whether true secularism should negate minority status for equal treatment, with some arguing that a secular democracy should provide equal opportunities for all citizens without needing special provisions based on religious identity.
The transition from “Pandit” to “Ustad” within Indian classical music serves as a microcosm of these broader issues. It illustrates how identity is expressed, negotiated, and sometimes contested within India’s secular framework. Sen’s analysis advocates for inclusivity and a de-emphasis on religious labels but overlooks the practical complexities of secularism on the ground. The expectation that the majority accommodate minority sentiments without reciprocal acknowledgment suggests that Indian secularism could benefit from revisiting its foundational ideals to ensure balanced identity expression for all communities.
In conclusion, identity in a secular, diverse nation like India is a complex, layered construct. Sen’s insights offer a valuable foundation for understanding this complexity, emphasizing the need for nuanced, inclusive categorization beyond religious lines. Yet, the reality of identity politics suggests that the interplay between self-determination and societal labeling remains an unresolved issue. India’s brand of secularism, with its allowance for diverse expressions and coexistence, exemplifies both the strengths and challenges of managing identity in a multicultural society. The ongoing debates highlight the aspiration for a balanced secularism where every citizen, irrespective of their background, can freely navigate and prioritize their identities without prejudice or constraint.
DB, 12-11-2024
Notes 1 …Ravi Shankar, the magnificent musician and sitarist, may be contrasted with Ali Akbar Khan, the great sarod player, on the basis of their particular mastery over different form so Indian music, but never as a ‘Hindu muscian’ or a ‘Muslim musician’ respectively (though one does happen to be a Hindu and the other a Muslim).— The Argumentative Indian: Writings on Indian Culture, History, and Identity, Penguin Books, NY, first published in 2005, p. 57
2 Max Katz, “The Scholarly Ustad: Hindustani Music’s Muslim Hereditary Professionals and Their Textual Traditions,” Ethnomusicology, Vol. 68, Issue 2, 2024.—from Chatgbt, accessed on 12-11-2024, 9.45 am
3 Katherine Butler Brown, “Did Aurangzeb Ban Music? Questions for the Historiography of His Reign,” Modern Asian Studies, Volume 41, Issue 1, Cambridge University Press, 2007.— from Chatgbt, accessed on 12-11-2024, 9.45 am
4 Sen, op. cit. p. 54
5 To make a comparison, when the United States declared independence in 1776 the different religious communities were quite diverse in size: the new polity could have been described as being a ‘largely Christian country’ in the way India is seen by some as a ‘mainly Hindu country.’ But this did not derail the need for the Us/ constitution to take a neutral view of the specific beliefs of the members of the different communities – non-Christian as well as Christian – irrespective of group dimensions. The respective sizes of the different religious (p. 54) communities should not be allowed to disrupt the rights, including the sense of belonging, that every citizen should be able to enjoy.—ibid. pp. 54-55
6 It is interesting to note that generally a Hindu’s self-identification as a Hindu occurs only when he talks of the Muslim; otherwise the conversations on his affiliation are more in terms of caste. A Hindu is born only when the Muslim enters the scene. Hindus cannot think of themselves as such without a simultaneous awareness of the Muslim’s presence. This is not so for Muslims, who do not need Hindus for self-awareness. The presence of the Hindu may increase the Muslim’s sense of his religious identity but does not constitute it.— Sudhir Kakar & Katharina Kakar ,Indians Portrait of a People, New Delhi, Penguin Books, [2007], 2009, p.157
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