Kerala in 1917 was
deeply divided by caste. Caste was scrupulously observed in public spaces; it
decided even the right of way, and people of different castes could not dine
together.
A century ago, a young school teacher
from Cherai, an island across Ernakulam, met Sree Narayana Guru when he was
visiting a neighbouring town. Guru asked Ayyappan whether it was sufficient to
merely talk against caste. “Should we not do something to remove caste from
people’s minds? The only way is to act against caste discrimination,” he told
the young man.
Kerala in 1917 was deeply divided by caste. The oppressed castes
had started to revolt against the discrimination institutionalised by the Hindu
religious order from the start of the 19th century. In the first half of the 19th
century, Vaikunta Swami, a saint-reformer from an oppressed caste in Travancore
kingdom, had unveiled a vision of an egalitarian spiritual order and social
life. In 1888, Narayana Guru had challenged the Hindu orthodoxy by consecrating
an “Ezhava Siva” at Aruvippuram near Thiruvananthapuram. Missionary activity
and English education built a groundswell of opinion against the caste system.
But the old order retained its stranglehold.
Caste was scrupulously observed in public spaces; it decided
even the right of way, and people of different castes could not dine together.
Every act of transgression was severely punished. This was the social
environment which Guru had referred to.
The remarks deeply affected Ayyappan. According to his
biographer, MK Sanoo, a few days later, Ayyappan called a gathering of his
close friends, most of them from non-Dalit castes, and told them that he
intended to invite members of the Dalit Pulaya community for a communal meal.
Guru had Dalit cooks at his ashram, but he was a saint and beyond censure. That
wasn’t the case with ordinary Ezhavas like Ayyappan. They feared such a feast
would attract retribution. But Ayyappan was unfazed. When he insisted, they
agreed to stand with him. Two Pulaya students, Vallon and Chathan, were invited
to dine with Ayyappan and friends.
On March 29, 1917, the meeting started in Cherai. Ayyappan spoke
about the atrocities of the caste system and announced that Guru expected his
followers to do their bid to destroy it. In line with Guru’s command, he said,
a communal meal (panthi bhojanam) with two Dalit boys was organised. He read an
oath to the stunned audience: “Since I am convinced that the caste system is
irrational, unnecessary and destructive, I wholeheartedly commit myself to work
towards its destruction without violating the lawful norms.” He made those
present sign the oath and the communal feast — a dish made of jackfruit seed
and channa — was held.
All hell broke loose the next day. The Ezhava organisation in
Cherai, Vignanavardhini Sabha, expelled those who took part in the event from
the community. Families were told to ostracise those who had partaken the
forbidden meal. Ayyappan was derisively labelled Pulayan Ayyappan, who
considered it an honorific. Those in support of Ayyappan came together to form
Sahodara Samajam (Union of Brothers). In the midst of the vicious campaigns and
physical threats, Ayyappan, now Sahodaran Ayyappan, met Guru. He asked Ayyappan
to “forgive his detractors like Christ”. Ayyappan asked for a message from Guru,
who promptly dictated the following lines: “People may differ in their
religion, dress and language, but they belong to one species and hence there is
no harm in they inter-dining or inter-marrying.”
Sure enough, Ayyappan’s act caught the
imagination of the youth. Pulpalli Raghavan in his Viplava Samaranakal, a
memoir that gives a panoramic view of life and society in 20th century Kerala,
writes that sahodara samajams (collectives of brothers) sprouted in hundreds
not just in Kochi but also in Travancore. Numerous panthi bhojanams were held
across Kerala.
Sahodaran’s radical act triggered a wave of similar anti-caste
actions in every community. The numerous civil rights campaigns, including for
the right to way, temple entry, representation in legislature, bureaucracy and
government, paved the way for a collective and inclusive Malayali identity in
place of restrictive caste categories. Sahadaran later became a legislator and
a minister in Kochi and Travancore-Kochi governments. He wrote extensively,
poems to pamphlets, against all unjust social traditions. He was critical of
Hinduism and adopted Buddhism in the 1920s.
This May, celebrations were held at Cherai and Ernakulam to
commemorate 100 years of Sahodaran’s panthi bhojanam, with Chief Minister
Pinarayi Vijayan in attendance. However, the enlightenment values furthered by
Sahodaran and others now face new challenges. The continuing impoverishment of
Dalits and adivasis in the state are cited by social critics like B Rajeevan as
evidence of Kerala’s failure to take forward that legacy. Rajeevan says
external aspects of the caste system, like the restrictions on inter-dining,
have disappeared but the divisive nature of the caste idea continues to
influence Kerala’s social life. Caste in Kerala, he argues, has become a
political phenomenon, which manifests itself in a new hierarchy based on the
numerical strength of communities. Dalits and adivasis, who constitute less
than 10 per cent of the state’s population, have lost out. “This is the
political issue we need to retrieve from the current discussions on panthi
bhojanam,” he argues.
Ajay Sekhar, a Dalit scholar who has published a study on
Sahodaran, talks about the need to foreground the life and works of Ayyappan at
a time when the state is pushing restrictions on food habits, dress and in
cultural matters. Civic Chandran, poet and activist, cites the disturbing
incident of non-Dalits shunning a government school in Perambra in north
Kerala, where all students are from a Dalit community. A march from Cherai to
Perambra has been planned to highlight the issue. “Kerala has been retreating
from Cherai to Perambra,” he says.
The legacy of panthi bhojanam, of course, is alive in the
protests against the ban on beef. But the destination of an egalitarian society
is far away. Justice Usha Sukumaran recalls a conversation with Sahodaran, her
uncle. As a child, she had asked him why she could not take her Christian
friends to temples the way she could accompany them to church. “That’s what
people like your uncle worked hard for, but we could not make it happen. Maybe
it will happen in your lifetime,” he told her. His words resonate as the
state’s orthodoxy holds firm on many matters.
For all the latest Lifestyle News, download Indian Express App
No comments:
Post a Comment