With an Appendix on the Invention of Race and Colonial Science
Let me share some of the lessons I have learned—often painfully—about the limits of religious identity and the entanglements of caste, race, and tradition. These reflections are drawn not only from studying history and scripture but also from my own inner journey.
There was a time when I strongly upheld Brahmin ideals. I believed that my heritage gave me a privileged place in understanding and representing India’s spiritual tradition. But over time, I began to see how that identity—rooted in birth and social status—was narrowing my vision of truth. It was like wearing glasses that revealed only part of the world while blurring the rest. I slowly began to recognize how many sincere and devout people were marginalized, simply because they were not born into the “right” community.
One of the earliest cracks in that worldview came when I encountered non-Brahmin spiritual figures—especially from the Bhakti tradition—who often embodied a deeper moral and spiritual vitality than I had seen elsewhere. These were not mere anomalies. They were saints who challenged Brahminical dominance and carried a vision of the divine that was intimate, egalitarian, and free from ritualistic hierarchy. The Bhakti movements in South India, the Lingayat tradition founded by Basavanna, the caste critiques within Sikhism, and the defiant writings and actions of Subramanya Bharati—all bear witness to these alternative spiritual lineages¹.
The deeper I delved into history, the clearer it became that caste was never a purely spiritual or divinely ordained system. Rather, it was tied to shifting politics, land control, and alliances between Brahmins and ruling elites. Sacred land grants (Brahmadeya), for instance, are often portrayed as religious gifts, but they were deeply political tools. Rulers would reward Brahmins with tax-free land to secure legitimacy in newly conquered territories². These lands, however, were typically worked by non-Brahmin tenant communities, many of whom would today be classified under OBCs³. Even when a defeated king returned to power, he often could not revoke these land rights—showing how religion and property were bound together in a network of realpolitik.
Further complicating the picture is how caste itself evolved. Kings sometimes “created” Brahmins by elevating individuals from lower castes to Brahmin status when ritual specialists were in short supply⁴. Such transformations demonstrate that caste was never static or sacred—it was malleable, serving political need.
Even those who stood closest to the deity—the temple priests—were not always held in high esteem. Classical texts such as the Manusmriti caution that Brahmins who serve idols for a living (devalakas) were unfit for certain Vedic rituals. Later commentators emphasized that such priests were often more concerned with money than dharma⁵. Yet, in modern public life, these same priests are often seen as the face of Hindu spirituality. This irony reveals how caste and spiritual symbolism have been repeatedly reconfigured over time.
One reason for this marginalization of temple priests—especially those who were not originally Vedic Brahmins—may lie in historical tensions between ritual schools. When kings expanded their territories, they often constructed new temples and needed priests to serve in them. At times, they elevated non-Brahmins or Agamic ritual specialists to Brahmin status. Since many orthodox Vedic Brahmins opposed temple worship and image worship (puja), these newly elevated temple priests were viewed with suspicion and disdain. Vedic authorities, unable to prevent this trend politically, sought to delegitimize it religiously—arguing that such priests were Brahmins in name only, motivated by economic interest rather than dharma. Will capture this vivid picture:
…there were real tensions between sacerdotal groups [Vedic vs. Agamic] is perfectly evident from the Sabarabhaasya. We also find hints elsewhere, for example in the Maanavadhaarmasaastra, which does not countenance temple service (devalaka) as a suitable livelihood for brahmanas—by which Manu means proper Vedic brahmanas. Medhaatithi, the ninth-century commentator, understood the term devalaka to mean pratimaaparicaarakaah, those who attend on images.227 Then there is Krsna’s celebrated critique of the “flowery words” of the Veda in Bhagavad Gita (2:42-43). The energy of Krsna’s attack leaves little doubt that the traditionalists were intransigent and hidebound in the extreme…That Vedic brahmanas were effective in defending these life-ways is evident from the copper-plate charters that were issued in their favour well into the medieval period. In contrast, the new world of the temple reveals, as Jan Gonda has so succinctly said, “a religious life considerably different from that recommended in the Veda.”228…Enriched by endowments and supported by the state, the temple advanced a pan-Indian programme of image-worship and innovative institutions like the Sattra, the operation of which involved social engineering and new forms of production and exchange.(p.217) …the Mimamsakas were concerned with existing land and the status quo. In the hinterland—the primary focus of the colonization process—Mimamsaka opinion did not necessarily apply.
All of this deeply unsettled my confidence in the sacredness and permanence of caste. If truth is one, and if God is beyond all distinctions of birth and status, then how can caste play any legitimate role in a spiritual journey?
Ultimately, caste has never been just about religion. It has been shaped by kingship, landholding, social mobility, and political opportunism. Even the most sacred symbols—the temple, the sacred thread, the mantras—have been caught in this web. Recognizing this, I began to see that the path to truth does not lie in defending a rigid tradition, but in learning to hear the voices that caste sought to silence.
Notes
1 On Bhakti saints opposing Brahminism: Subramanya Bharati’s actions, Basavanna’s founding of Lingayat movement, and caste divisions within Sikhism; see various sources including Bharati’s writings and modern sociological studies on intra-Sikh caste divisions.
2 On Brahmadeya land grants and OBC tenants: Ranjeeta Dutta, From Hagiographies to Biographies: Ramanuja in Tradition and History, New Delhi, Oxford University Press, 2014, pp. 85, 89; Y. Subbarayalu, South India Under The Cholas, New Delhi, Oxford University Press, 2nd ed., 2013, p. 221.
3 The Velala–brahmana base of the Saiva movement should not be seen as a mere caste phenomenon, and this may be perceived in the elitist character of the Velala landowners, that is, agriculturally dominant Velalas, who alone gained control over the temple and matha administration and landed property from the twelfth century, as against their sharing of a part of the control over temple lands and administration with the brahmanas in the pre-twelfth-century period, that is, tenth to twelfth centuries. As landowning members of the Sabha of the brahmadeya, the brahmanas played a predominant role in the period from the seventh to ninth centuries AD till the temple superseded the brahmadeya as an instrument of agrarian expansion and integration.— R. Champakalakshmi., ‘From Devotion and Dissent to Dominance: The Bhakti of the Tamil Alvars and Nayanars’, in David N. Lorenzen. Religious Movements in South Asia 600-1800. New Delhi, Oxford, 2004. p. 66. Also in: Champakalakshmi, Religion, Tradition, and Ideology: Pre-colonial South India, Oxford, New Delhi (2011), 2012 , pp. 19-20. More on this see: — Ranjeeta Dutta, From Hagiographies to Biographies: Ramanuja in Tradition and History, New Delhi, Oxford University Press, 2014, p. 89
4“A king… did not hesitate to raise members of a lower ranking group to the status of Brahmins…” — A. Baines, Ethnography, Strassburg: Trubner Varlag, 1912, p. 27; see also M. N. Srinivas, “Mobility in the Caste System,” in Collected Essays, New Delhi, Oxford University Press, 2004, p. 189. “The dominant castes in multi-caste villages have usually provided the model for the other castes of upward social mobility…” — G.K. Karanth, “Replication or Dissent? Culture and Institutions among ‘Untouchable’ Scheduled Castes in Karnataka,” in Dipankar Gupta (ed.), Caste in Question: Identity or Hierarchy?, New Delhi, SAGE Publications, 2004, p. 142.
5: On tensions between Vedic and Agamic Brahmins, the marginalization of devalaka priests, and state-backed temple institutions: Michael Willis, The Archaeology of Hindu Ritual: Temples and the Establishment of the Gods, Cambridge, 2009, pp. 217–218; Jan Gonda, Visnuism and Sivaism: A Comparison, London, 1970, p. 75; Medhatithi’s commentary on Manavadharmasastra (3:152), ed. Vishvanath Narayan Mandlik. See also discussion in note 239, p. 330. It is worth reading this in full:
— Michael Willis, The Archaeology of Hindu Ritual: Temples and the establishment of the Gods, Cambridge, 2009. pp. 217-18
227. Medhaatithi ad Manavadharmasastra (3:152).—I couldn’t find any reference for this in bibliography. But there is one: Maanavadharmasastra with the commentaries of Medhaatithi and others, ed. Vishvanaath Narayan Mandlik. But I could not find the publisher information and year for this in Bibliography. This reference on Mandlik is found in notes. 239. p. 330—db
228. Jan Gonda, Visnuism and Sivaism: A Comparison. London, 1970. 75.—p. 329; More on this see: Vijay Nath, Puraanas and Acculturation: A Historico-Anthropological Perspective, Munshirma Manoharlal, New Delhi, 2001,
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