James Manor
To cite this article: James Manor (2019) The Making, Ambiguity and Sustainability of Intercaste
Accommodations in Rural India, South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, 42:2, 406-422, DOI:
10.1080/00856401.2019.1583789
Article views: 40
ARTICLE
ABSTRACT KEYWORDS
In recent years, the increasing refusal by disadvantaged castes, Accommodation; caste;
especially Dalits (ex-untouchables), to accept caste hierarchies has Dalits; hierarchy;
increased intercaste tensions and violence in rural India. But inter- negotiations; violence
caste accommodations aimed at avoiding violence have also
increased, more sharply than violent incidents. This study explains
how accommodations are made, almost always between senior
Dalit and ‘higher’ caste leaders. Contrasts and parallels between
their calculations and perspectives are examined, along with their
views of the painful ambiguities that attend such accommoda-
tions. The authority of these senior leaders within their castes is,
for the present, crucial to making accommodations sustainable.
Changes that undermine their authority may make accommoda-
tions more difficult to forge and to sustain, but those changes
may also provide a new basis for such agreements.
This paper is one part of a broader study of the implications of a fundamentally import-
ant change: increasing, and increasingly evident, refusals by Dalits (ex-untouchables) to
accept caste hierarchies in rural India. Since those hierarchies served as a central pillar
of the old social order in rural areas—where two-thirds of Indians still reside—their
waning acceptance represents one of the most important changes to occur since Indian
Independence. And yet the implications of that change have had precious little attention
from scholars.
In recent years, this change has triggered greater intercaste tensions and a rising
number of violent attacks on Dalits. But it has also led to a marked increase in intercaste
accommodations which pre-empt violence. This is an analysis of how those accommo-
dations are made, of their ambiguous character, and of the sustainability over the longer
term of the processes that lead to accommodations. Evidence for this analysis was col-
lected in nine diverse Indian states—and in multiple (and again, diverse) sub-regions of
three of them—mainly between 2011 and 2016. Additional material was provided by
social scientists with specialised knowledge of four further regions.1 The regions studied
ranged from areas with acute disparities in wealth, land and access to government
benefits—which are always important since caste possesses and is shaped by material-
ity2—so that traditional caste hierarchies have been deeply unjust, to areas where more
equitable material conditions have eased injustices, greatly or somewhat. Semi-
structured interviews were conducted with individuals and groups in villages. Some
groups consisted of members of single castes, while others involved multiple castes.
Interviews focused on incidents which sparked intercaste tensions and on ensuing proc-
esses which—usually but not always—entailed efforts to address those tensions. Most
interviews dealt with events within respondents’ villages, but some also elicited informa-
tion on villages very nearby which were well known to interviewees and which had
experienced significant violence. Those interviews were then discussed with social scien-
tists who specialise in the various regions.
The diversity of the regions, sub-regions and villages examined for this study cannot
be captured in a paper of this length. What emerges here is an account of predominant
trends in most of these varied settings. It is in no sense a definitive or final assessment of
local social dynamics in Indian villages. Instead, it is intended as an initial, tentative
report which seeks to persuade others to delve more deeply into a crucially important
topic that needs further study.
This topic is excruciatingly complex, so to keep this discussion at least semi-
manageable, three limitations have been imposed. First, it excludes urban areas where
caste interactions are far more complicated. Second, it does not consider Scheduled
Tribes or Adivasis who mostly stand at one remove from caste hierarchies. Finally, this
paper (but not the book of which it will be a part) omits interactions between Dalits and
‘Other Backward Castes (or Classes)’ (OBCs)—intermediate groups which have domi-
nated some but not most villages. The focus here is on Dalits’ relations with the so-
called ‘higher’ castes—that is, those that have traditionally dominated village societies
thanks to their control of land and wealth.3
Tensions between the ‘higher’ castes and Dalits in Indian villages sometimes become
acute as the result of a dispute, an unsettling incident, or what one group (usually from
the ‘higher’ castes) perceives as a serious affront. That raises the possibility of violence—
a word which here refers to physical violence, attacks on persons and property—by
West Bengal. Supplementary evidence emerged from separate and extensive studies of the Mahatma Gandhi
National Rural Employment Guarantee Act, and of five government initiatives that were intended to tackle
poverty and inequality. Both of those latter studies have resulted in books: R. Jenkins and J. Manor, Politics and
the Right to Work: India’s National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (New Delhi/London/New York: Orient
BlackSwan/Hurst/Oxford University Press, 2017); and James Chiriyankandath, Diego Maiorano, James Manor and
Louise Tillin, The Politics of Poverty Reduction in India: The UPA Government, 2004 to 2014, forthcoming.
2. For detailed discussions of this theme, see James Manor, ‘Prologue: Caste and Politics in Recent Times’, in Rajni
Kothari (ed.), Caste in Indian Politics (New Delhi: Orient BlackSwan, rev. ed., 2010), pp. xi–lxi; and Jeffrey Witsoe,
‘Caste Networks and Regional Political Economy’, in Surinder S. Jodhka and James Manor (eds), Contested
Hierarchies, Persisting Influence: Caste and Power in Twenty-First Century India (New Delhi: Orient BlackSwan,
2018), pp. 39–59.
3. Here, the term ‘higher’ castes refers to landed, traditionally cultivating castes—such as the Marathas in
Maharashtra, the Jats in North India, the Lingayats and Vokkaligas in Karnataka, and the Kammas and Reddys in
Andhra Pradesh and Telangana—who are the main ‘higher’ castes that Dalits face in most villages. In some
regions, certain landed castes have sought and gained ‘Backward’ status in order to access government benefits.
But in most villages, OBCs stand below landed castes in the old, waning hierarchies. As a result, their status
and their relations with Dalits are more ambiguous—and often more prone to conflict. That subject is omitted
here, but it will be examined in the book-length study to follow.
408 J. MANOR
‘higher’ castes against Dalits. In such circumstances, ‘higher’ caste leaders—usually male
elders—often propose to their caste fellows, some of whom may advocate violence, that
an accommodation should be sought with local Dalit leaders.4 They do so because they
calculate that violence would have unacceptable consequences for ‘higher’ castes, for the
reputation of the village as a whole, and for the leaders’ own authority within both their
caste and the village. Those ‘higher’ caste leaders are sometimes influential figures on
elected panchayats (local councils) which are formal political institutions, but they often
have little or no involvement in them. (It is quite unusual for panchayats to play a role
in intercaste negotiations.) Their leadership roles within their castes usually have much
more to do with their influence within informal caste organisations, which may take the
form of mono-caste or of multi-caste councils to which Dalit leaders may be invited
from time to time.5 Interviews in numerous regions indicated that such informal coun-
cils do not always exist, and when they do, they may meet only occasionally, as issues
arise which require attention. They are far less structured than urban peace committees
that seek to prevent or reduce social conflict.6 Dalit and ‘higher’ caste leaders then
engage in discussions, seeking to ease tensions in order to avert violence. Those talks
often lead to an accommodation which achieves those aims.7 Field visits to a large num-
ber of villages in numerous, diverse Indian regions indicate that while both violence and
accommodations have been on the increase in recent years, accommodations outnum-
ber violent clashes. The accommodations which are agreed contain painful ambiguities
both for ‘higher’ castes and for Dalits. They also have ambiguous implications for cur-
rent and future social dynamics within the village.
To gain an understanding of all of this, a study by Avishai Margalit is a helpful
guide.8 It makes no reference to India, but it is cited extensively here because it reso-
nates uncannily with the processes in rural India under discussion. It provides many
acute insights into them and may facilitate comparisons with cases elsewhere which are
beyond the scope of this analysis. Margalit argues that negotiators in any serious dispute
between unequals should always avoid a ‘rotten compromise’. He defines that as ‘an
agreement to establish or maintain an inhuman regime, a regime of cruelty and humili-
ation, that is, a regime that does not treat humans as humans … ’. (The word ‘regime’
here refers not only to political regimes, but also to ‘a regular pattern of behaviour’ in
social interactions.) Inhuman regimes seek
to eradicate the very idea of morality—by actively rejecting the premise on which moral-
ity is predicated, namely, our shared humanity … compromises are vital for social life,
even though some compromises are pathogenic … [but] we need to actively resist rotten
compromises that are lethal for the moral life of a body politic.
4. ‘Higher’ caste leaders usually take the initiative because they have greater wealth and status than Dalits, and
because it is they who might launch a violent attack on Dalits.
5. For useful insights, see Kripa Ananth Pur, ‘Rivalry or Synergy? Formal and Informal Governance in Rural India’,
in Development and Change, Vol. 38, no. 3 (May 2007), pp. 401–21.
6. For a perceptive analysis of this and related issues, see Ashutosh Varshney, Ethnic Conflict and Civic Life: Hindus
and Muslims in India (New Haven, CT/London: Yale University Press, 2002).
7. They also sometimes produce stalemates which stop short of accommodations but avert violence. Stalemates
will be analysed in the book of which this text will form a part. But to keep this discussion manageable, they
are omitted here.
8. Avishai Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises (Princeton, NJ/Oxford: Princeton University
Press, 2010).
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 409
are then discussed. Finally, we must turn to the problems which leaders in both groups
often face in gaining acceptance within their castes of agreed accommodations, in mak-
ing them ‘stick’—as well as certain trends that may make that more difficult in
the future.
13. Examples include the severe antagonism in parts of Tamil Nadu (which resulted in clashes in Dharmapuri and
elsewhere), widespread assaults by Thakurs on Dalits after the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) won the 2017 state
election in Uttar Pradesh, and the attacks by Marathas on Dalits in Maharashtra during the Bhima Koregaon
controversy in early 2018. These episodes are—at the time of writing in early 2019—exceptions to the more
prevalent pattern discussed in this paper.
14. I am grateful to Sobin George for stressing this point. His arguments are based on field research in villages in
northern Karnataka, but the patterns that he assesses can be found—to varying degrees—in all of the regions
where fieldwork for this paper was conducted.
15. These abundant new funds have come through the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee
Act, and as a result of a decision by the 14th Finance Commission to provide panchayats with a greater share
of government resources. See in this connection, James Manor, ‘When Local Government Strikes It Rich’,
International Centre for Local Democracy, research report no. 1 (Visby, Sweden, 2013).
16. Robert D. Putnam, Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1993), p. 167.
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 411
They provide familiar precedents for negotiations when acute anger and tension arise that
might lead to violence. At such times, they often facilitate accommodations. They do not,
however, guarantee successful resolutions of tensions when inflammatory issues are
involved. The novelty of negotiations and accommodations in times of severe tension lies
precisely here: in the unusual sensitivity of the matters being discussed. It involves ‘more
than interests … it involves principles and ideals … . What is negotiated in serious dis-
putes is sometimes the self-identity of the sides to the dispute … self-recognition’.17
Intercaste inequalities always colour prior adjustments on less sensitive matters, and they
come into play more forcefully when discussions occur amid acute tension. But since the
(at least somewhat) consultative processes leading to those prior adjustments on minor
issues in all nine regions have become familiar and often routine in many villages, they
have been institutionalised as part of the local ‘regime’. It is thus natural in such localities,
when marked intercaste tensions arise, for leaders on both sides of a dispute to turn to
negotiations that may lead to an accommodation that avoids violence. When that hap-
pens, each side necessarily recognises, at least to some degree, the point of view of the
other. That confers, as noted above, at least a limited legitimacy on the other’s perspective.
Amid caste inequalities in Indian villages, it does not entail the emergence of ‘a semblance
of equality’ between the two sides.18 Never, in over 150 interviews across regions, was
there even a suggestion of that. But it is a step in that direction.
We must beware of overstatement here. An observer of interactions across caste lines
in villages might conclude that this is a ‘low-trust’ society.19 There is substance in this
perception. Decades of exploitation and humiliation undermine Dalits’ trust in ‘higher’
castes. The latter also tend to see Dalits as unworthy of their trust. Or their leaders may
fear that their caste fellows will see their engagement with Dalits as beneath their dig-
nity. The references in the previous three sentences are to trust/distrust between groups,
but we must also consider trust/distrust between individuals. In many (probably most)
villages, prior adjustments in small matters have at least required individual leaders of
‘higher’ castes to extend some tenuous recognition to their counterparts among the
Dalits—a significant concession.20 Individual leaders in both groups have engaged with
one another often enough to enable them to develop at least some familiarity with the
interests and concerns of their individual counterparts and of the groups that they rep-
resent. And both sets of leaders usually have at least some knowledge of the internal
dynamics within the other caste, which their counterparts must manage.21
occurred. In such villages, where there is no precedent for negotiated understandings, it is exceedingly difficult
to resolve serious tensions—although because interactions occur only infrequently, severe tensions arise less
often there.
22. One reviewer of this text offered helpful comments on this point. For a valuable discussion of this theme,
mainly in Western contexts, see A. Seligman, The Problem of Trust (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 2000).
23. For the importance of this, see Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises, p. 37.
24. These phrases come, respectively, from www.oxforddictionaries.com and www.merriam-webster.com, emphases
added. Margalit, unusually, departs from this common usage by adopting a more limited definition. He defines
empathy as ‘an attentive effort to understand’ the concerns and viewpoint of another. For him empathy stops
short of sympathy: a stronger thing that entails an ‘identification’ with others’ concerns. Margalit, On
Compromise and Rotten Compromises, pp. 42–3. In the present analysis, the broader and more widely accepted
definition is used.
25. James Manor, ‘Karnataka: Caste, Class, Dominance and Politics in a Cohesive Society’, in Francine F. Frankel and
M.S.A. Rao (eds), Dominance and State Power in Modern India, Vol. 1 (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1989),
pp. 322–61.
26. I am grateful to K.C. Suri for stressing this point at an early stage of field research. His insight was consistently
borne out across every region studied.
27. The classic study of this is M.N. Srinivas, ‘The Dominant Caste in Rampura’, in American Anthropologist, Vol. 61,
no. 1 (Feb. 1959), pp. 1–16. It is reprinted in M.N. Srinivas, The Oxford India Srinivas (New Delhi: Oxford
University Press, 2009), pp. 74–92.
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 413
28. See, for example, G.K. Karanth, ‘Caste in Contemporary Rural India’, in M.N. Srinivas (ed.), Caste: Its Twentieth
Century Avatar (New Delhi: Penguin, 1996), p. 106; Adrian Mayer, ‘Caste in an Indian Village: Change and
Continuity’, in C.J. Fuller (ed.), Caste Today (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1997), pp. 32–64; G.K. Karanth,
Change and Continuity in Agrarian Relations (New Delhi: Concept, 1995); S.R. Charsley and G.K. Karanth (eds),
Challenging Untouchability: Dalit Initiative and Experience from Karnataka (London: Altamira Press, 1998);
Dipankar Gupta, Caste in Question: Identity or Hierarchy? (New Delhi/London/Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2004);
Surinder S. Jodhka, ‘Caste and Untouchability in Rural Punjab’, in Economic & Political Weekly, Vol. 37, no. 19 (11
May 2002), pp. 1813–23; and Surinder S. Jodhka and P. Louis, ‘Caste Tensions in Punjab: Talhan and Beyond’, in
Economic & Political Weekly, Vol. 38, no. 28 (12 July 2003), pp. 2923–36. See also Manor, ‘Prologue’, pp. xi–lxi.
29. Anirudh Krishna describes them as naya netas (new leaders), and this writer calls them fixers, but we are
referring to the same people. See Anirudh Krishna, Active Social Capital: Tracing the Roots of Development and
Democracy (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002); Anirudh Krishna, ‘Alternatives to Caste-Based Channels
of Influence’, in Surinder S. Jodhka and James Manor (eds), Contested Hierarchies, Persisting Influence: Caste and
Power in Twenty-First Century India (New Delhi: Orient BlackSwan, 2018), pp. 87–110; James Manor, ‘Small-Time
Political “Fixers” in the Politics of India’s States: “Towel over Armpit”’, in Asian Survey, Vol. 40, no. 5 (Sept.–Oct.
2000), pp. 816–35, reprinted in James Manor, Politics and State–Society Relations in India (New Delhi/London/
New York: Orient BlackSwan/Hurst/Oxford University Press, 2017), pp. 176–97.
30. This point is discussed in greater detail in Jenkins and Manor, Politics and the Right to Work.
31. For a compelling account of such a village, see G.K. Karanth, V. Ramaswamy and Ruedi Hogger, ‘The Threshing
Floor Disappears: Rural Livelihood Systems in Transition’, in Ruedi Baumgartner and Ruedi Hogger (eds), In
Search of Sustainable Livelihood Systems: Managing Resources and Change (New Delhi/Thousand Oaks, CA/
London: Sage, 2004), pp. 265–74.
32. Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises, p. 77.
33. See Waghmore’s comment about ‘Maratha honour’, in his Civility against Caste, p. 63.
34. There is plenty of evidence to support that expectation. See the studies cited in note 10.
414 J. MANOR
35. The full title of the Act is The Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989.
36. This became apparent during visits to many villages in such regions for this study.
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 415
37. In Gopal Guru’s words, the old hierarchical mindset ‘cancels out or erases the human being from the memory’.
It entails a ‘total rejection’ of Dalits which makes them ‘un-seeable, unapproachable and untouchable’. See
Gopal Guru, ‘Rejection of Rejection’, in Gopal Guru (ed.), Humiliation: Claims and Context (New Delhi: Oxford
University Press, 2009), pp. 210, 212.
38. Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises, p. 196.
39. Ibid., p. 189.
40. For detailed arguments on the erosion of dependency and increases in political capacity, see Jenkins and
Manor, Politics and the Right to Work.
41. Waghmore, Civility against Caste, p. 69.
416 J. MANOR
42. The complex difficulties that attend efforts to respond to such events require more space than is available here.
They will be examined in the book of which this text will form one part. They often entail not negotiations
but coercive action by ‘higher’ castes. For a characteristically perceptive analysis of one dimension of this, see
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 417
Pratiksha Baxi, ‘Justice is a Secret: Compromise in Rape Trials’, in Contributions to Indian Sociology, Vol. 44, no. 3
(2010), pp. 207–33.
43. Putnam, Making Democracy Work, p. 169.
44. Grace Carswell and Geert De Neve, ‘Litigation against Political Organisation? The Politics of Dalit Mobilisation in
Tamil Nadu, India’, in Development and Change, Vol. 46, no. 5 (2015), pp. 1106–32.
45. Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises, p. 70.
46. Ibid., pp. 55, 64, 66.
418 J. MANOR
Two further points are worth stressing. First, if violence occurs, it—like any
accommodation—also produces an ambiguous outcome, as several points noted above
indicate. Dalits suffer from it, often grievously, but a violent incident can also trigger
greater solidarity and mobilisation among Dalits in other localities. If it causes Dalits
elsewhere to become more proactive in the public sphere in order to defend their inter-
ests, that enhances their ‘political capacity’. The damage done by violence in one locality
also offers ‘higher’ castes in others in the vicinity salutary lessons about the benefits of
restraint.47 They see that within the affected village, social relations are poisoned for
years. It may also destroy the reputation of the entire village. A violent incident is also
likely to lead to unwanted interventions from outside, which (at a minimum) cause
‘higher’ castes immense inconvenience. Second, accommodations tend to strengthen the
key caste institution at the village level: jati (an endogamous group, within which villag-
ers nearly always marry off their children). By sustaining the pre-eminence of leaders
within both Dalit and ‘higher’ jatis, accommodations reconfirm authority structures
within them, but they may inspire discontent among some individuals within either or
both castes.
Jati has proved to be the most resilient pre-existing social institution in Asia, Africa
and Latin America—not by resisting change, but by adapting to it and often taking
strength from it. Accommodations are but one example among many of that process.
They are not equitable bargains, but the fact that they are on the increase indicates that
the power of the old caste hierarchies has waned. In other words, it is not caste (jati)
that is losing substance and potency, but hierarchies among castes. The continuing
strength of interpersonal ties and solidarity within castes helps to make accommoda-
tions between castes broadly acceptable, but it is not an unmixed blessing for relations
between ‘higher’ castes and Dalits. Solidarity within a caste is a product of ‘bonding’
social capital,48 which tends to weaken ‘bridging’ social capital—that is, ties between
castes.49 It makes human relationships within a caste close and ‘thick’, but it tends to
make relations between castes more distant and ‘thin’ (insubstantial). In their interac-
tions with other members of their caste, individuals may be unselfish which ‘ … gives
them the illusion that they belong to a moral order, since they identify morality with
individual unselfishness’. But those interactions may also perpetuate invidious social
relations with people in other castes which ‘invites tension’, and which in extremis
undermines a morality based on the belief in the common humanity of all.50
47. This point was repeatedly made by interviewees of all caste backgrounds who were located near villages where
severe violence had occurred.
48. This term refers to ‘features of social organization such as networks, norms and social trust that facilitate
coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit’. See Robert D. Putnam, ‘Bowling Alone: America’s Declining
Social Capital’, in Journal of Democracy, Vol. 6, no. 1 (1995), p. 67.
49. Deepa Narayan, ‘Bonds and Bridges’, World Bank Policy Research Paper (Washington, DC: World Bank, 1999).
50. Margalit, On Compromise and Rotten Compromises, pp. 122–3.
SOUTH ASIA: JOURNAL OF SOUTH ASIAN STUDIES 419
accommodations often generate among some members of both castes might cause an
agreement to unravel. Leaders on both sides must seek to win broad acceptance for it
within their castes. During the negotiations, leaders on each side understand that they
have an interest in sustaining the authority of their counterparts in the other caste.
Thus, both recognise the need to give some ground so that intercaste accommodations
never amount to complete sell-outs by either side.
There is of course an imbalance in status and power between ‘higher’ caste and Dalit
negotiators. That has serious implications, but we need to consider them with care. The
imbalance might suggest that Dalit leaders operate under such unfair pressure that they
are coerced into making compromises. That impression gains further credence from the
patent threat of ‘higher’ caste violence if no accommodation is reached. And there is a
contradiction between coerced concession and genuine compromise.51 But the reality in
most intercaste discussions is more complicated and (again) ambiguous. Dalit leaders
clearly negotiate under duress, but as we have seen, their ‘higher’ caste counterparts also
have compelling reasons to seek genuine compromises. Most Dalit leaders understand
that, so they proceed in the knowledge that they hold some cards in the game—not least
because (as ‘higher’ caste leaders know) if threats become extreme or violence actually
occurs, they are usually able to raise the alarm among allies outside the village via
mobile telephones. They operate under unfair pressure, but they are not utterly helpless
victims of coercion. The ‘higher’ caste leaders’ interest in an accommodation implies
that they are prepared to make at least some concessions. This willingness to comprom-
ise is the result of careful calculations by leaders on both sides. It ‘does not in any way
mean that … [they are] swept by a spirit of altruism … ’. Nor, as noted above, do they
feel empathy towards those on the other side. The negotiators make limited concessions
in the hope that this may make an ‘agreement stable’52—that is, acceptable to most peo-
ple on both sides. ‘Higher’ caste leaders, whose negotiating position is stronger, care lit-
tle for social justice. However, they usually recognise that if they offer Dalits too little
even to achieve an accommodation, or if Dalits gain very little from it, a strong sense of
injustice among (especially younger) Dalits may generate instability that could destroy
the authority of Dalit leaders and lead to unwelcome disorder. That would in turn
threaten the authority of ‘higher’ caste leaders over their own caste fellows and their
influence within village society. In interviews, such leaders in several regions often said
that they were anxious to avoid such an outcome, which would cede power to impatient
Dalits or to members of ‘higher’ castes who favour violence, or to both. Negotiators on
both sides naturally seek a settlement that will gain their own side the greatest possible
advantages. That contributes mightily to the ambiguous character of accommodations,
and to discontents among some people on both sides. But the negotiators also recognise
the need to prevent those discontents from becoming too acute. They face a delicate bal-
ancing act.
What kinds of discontent emerge? Let us first consider Dalits. Because accommoda-
tions do not end all injustices, some understandably impatient (and again, mainly
younger) Dalits—whose ‘self-identity’53 is grounded in a determination to achieve full
equality—feel cheated. The idea that they should be ‘required to trade justice for
peace’54 causes them deep unease. Because accommodations often permit ‘higher’ castes
to develop variations on the old theme of hierarchy—often in new ways—they feel
tricked. They also see that, given the imbalance of power between the two sides, accom-
modations do not split the difference equally between them.55 That rankles.
Dalit advocates of accommodations reply that the willingness of ‘higher’ castes to
engage in negotiations represents an acknowledgement of Dalit leaders and concerns,
and that this is a significant advance over earlier abusive practices. They add that this
change may have some lasting effect by altering dynamics in ways that do at least a little
to ease injustices, even though they stop far short of full equity. They also argue that
even unsatisfactory accommodations are preferable to violence, which would be severely
damaging to Dalits and perhaps even lethal. The more impatient Dalits do not see nego-
tiations and accommodations as important advances. Some even note that violence can
spark a greater awakening and mobilisation among Dalits. It is true that those gains
often occur, but they happen outside a strife-torn village—in other nearby localities, and
sometimes well beyond.56 In villages where attacks take place, Dalits pay a heavy price.
Some members of ‘higher’ castes also object strongly to accommodations, and even
to decisions to seek talks with Dalit leaders. They regard these as beneath the dignity of
their caste and prefer time-honoured doses of violence to provide object lessons to
troublesome Dalits. ‘Higher’ castes engaging with Dalits may merely be ‘couching dis-
gust (towards Dalits) and caste hubris under a new form of politeness’,57 but for discon-
tented members of ‘higher’ castes, even that is unacceptable. Their self-esteem has taken
a battering in recent years from changes and forces beyond their control. Those who
own land have seen their holdings fragmented as they are parcelled out into increasingly
uneconomic plots among multiple heirs. That problem is compounded by what is com-
monly called the ‘crisis’ in agriculture. Close family ties suffer when children leave the
village, preferring urban life. Sons who can be persuaded to remain as farmers struggle
to find wives because young women in their caste prefer husbands with white-collar
jobs in towns and cities. Many members of ‘higher’ castes feel driven to vie for influence
within local panchayats because those bodies have lately acquired substantial funds. But
in doing so, they face infuriating contestation and cross-examinations from Dalits and
other disadvantaged groups who no longer defer to them. These and other changes cre-
ate insecurity about their status, their ‘self-identity’ and the social order as they have
known it. When intercaste tensions rise, those anxieties have contributed to the increase
in violence in recent years. They also threaten the durability of accommodations which
have outnumbered violent incidents, as well as the authority of ‘higher’ caste leaders
who negotiate them.
The great bulk of interviews for this study inspire both optimism and pessimism
about the outlook for intercaste accommodations in the teeth of these discontents.
58. This has occurred in a non-trivial minority of the villages visited for this study. There are also suggestions of it
in Krishna, ‘How Does Social Capital Grow?’, pp. 941–56.
59. This is Dipankar Gupta’s formulation. See Gupta, Caste in Question.
60. For examples, see note 13.
422 J. MANOR
become unmanageable. If the benign change noted above occurs as caste leaders’ influ-
ence wanes, then accommodations will continue to predominate over violence. But if it
does not, that predominance may turn out to be merely a passing phase.
Acknowledgements
The author is grateful to the South Asia reviewers and to many colleagues for valuable com-
ments on this research project. Especially helpful insights came from Sobin George, Hugo
Gorringe, Gopal Guru, Surinder S. Jodhka, G.K. Karanth, Anirudh Krishna, K.C. Suri and
Suryakant Waghmore.
Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.
Funding
Most of this research was supported by a grant from the Harry Frank Guggenheim
Foundation. Separate and extensive studies of the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural
Employment Guarantee Act, and of five government initiatives that were intended to tackle
poverty and inequality, were funded by the UK Economic and Social Research Council
[ES/J012629].