Agrarian Field: Growing Marginalisation

Among the categories of dalits mentioned, those aligned to agriculture, as labourers, are most vulnerable. In agriculture, because of the integrated nature of the economic system and the virtual monopoly over land, and their hold over the traditional panchayat,Footnote ⁶ the dominant caste groups are still in a position to control the lower castes. Over the years, the dependence of the dalits on agriculture both in absolutist and relative terms has increased. The failure of land reforms in Haryana is well acknowledged. In their implementation the land and tenancy laws were easily manipulated specially against the dalits.Footnote ⁷ The dalits were not only evicted as tenants but also failed to take possession of the surplus land allotted to them. According to the 1991 census, there were 5,12,913 agricultural labourers and only 75,095 cultivators among the dalits, making for just 14.6 per cent of dalits having minuscule landholdings or sharecropping or some other type of insecure tenantry.Footnote ⁸ In the two categories of cultivators and agricultural labourers, the percentage of cultivators over time has gone down and that of the agricultural labourers has gone up. Between 1981 and 1991, there has been 11 per cent decline in the numbers of dalit cultivators, implying a process of proletarianisation (i.e. of losing ownership of land for even those who had diminutive bits of land, or access to land in lease market) and a phenomenal increase of 41 per cent in those of agricultural labourers.Footnote ⁹ In the latter category, the dalits also have come to face competition from members of non-dalit castes, for a variety of reasons, in the wake of the green revolution and now liberalisation of economy. Sheila Bhalla observes that in certain areas of Haryana the upper caste groups have displaced the landless labour who are drawn from among the dalits, leading to a great deal of tension.Footnote ¹⁰ In other areas, migratory labour from other states has replaced the dalits, causing severe deprivation to the local dalits. In a situation of expanding dependence on agriculture, and growing marginalisation of dalit cultivators, increasing landlessness and differential labour demand, erosion of the economic base of dalits has taken place. In the capital-intensive agriculture, this has had the effect of sharpening the class polarisation between rich peasants and landless labourers, primarily drawn from among the dalits, who also stand confronting the lower sections of the upper caste groups. All this has added to the volatility of a conflict situation.

Historically, the dalit agricultural labourers (popularly known as the kamins in this region), and the landowning castes have been at loggerheads, breaking out in open confrontations on a variety of issues. These ranged from levy of certain fees and cesses (like the hearth-fee), payment of wages, rendering of begar (work without pay), use of village shamilat (common land) and sexual exploitation of dalit women.Footnote ¹¹ Some of these issues have remained, or assumed different forms, and some fresh ones added. The payment of wages remains a contentious issue, as the statutory wages are substantially higher than what the landowners are willing to pay. Among factors that cause constant friction between the dalits and the landowning classes, the use of village shamilat has endured and emerged as one of the major factors behind violent confrontations. Large portions of shamilat have been illegally occupied by members of dominant caste groups and are being utilised for purposes other than traditional one of grazing of animals.Footnote ¹²

Moreover, there has been a steep increase in the numbers of livestock kept by all caste groups in Haryana.Footnote ¹³ For the dalits, the rearing of cattle, sheep, goats and poultry provides a major source of sustenance as well as some income. This has put them in direct conflict not only with the landowner but also with a segment of the same class drawn from among the upper caste groups. The village shamilat is, however, not even adequate for the growing needs of landowners given to dairy farming in their pursuit of white revolution. The successive shrinkage of the shamilat and its appropriation by the landowners for their exclusive use, or for their own caste men, not only contravenes the traditional grazing rights of dalits but also causes a great deal of loss and hardship to them. The usage of shamilat often constitutes an important area of friction between the two groups. Furthermore, any attempt by the dalits at acquiring ownership of government lands or surplus lands, as decreed under certain welfare schemes of the government, are violently resisted by the dominant castes, leading to open confrontations.

The landowners on their side maintain that the kamins no longer deserve the same privileges as given earlier. In their opinion, kamin eeb oot ho gayen sain, Kaam na karte, pehle ke tiryan (the kamins have become impertinent; they no longer work as they used to). There is clearly ‘everyday form of resistance’ of the dalits to overwork that James Scott speaks of, though without questioning the power and authority relations as such.Footnote ¹⁴ Restricted and declining employment opportunity in the agricultural field means that many dalit youth have to leave the village to seek employment outside; others opt out of working as agricultural labourers and migrate to cities. For many of the dalit youth, it is a survival strategy and for others it is a move to break away from the subordinate pattern of the past, which is closely tied to agricultural work and means labouring for the dominant caste groups.

Education and Reservations: Competing Classes

Availing of the educational opportunities facilitates this break. Dalits are anxious to have their children educated with a view to following a different profession. An oft-quoted remark among the landowners is: ‘Now kamins want their boys to get educated and want them to become officers. They do not want their children to work in the fields’. In the opinion of the upper caste groups, the one factor that has ignited a wide scale change among the dalits is education. According to them, it is education, facilitated through government scholarships, which has made the lower castes avail themselves of reservations in the government jobs, thereby giving them an edge over the rest of them. In the perception of the upper caste groups, a combination of education and reservations has therefore turned the lower caste groups into, what one man described them as, ‘government jamais (sons-in-law)’ who have to be pampered. The popular refrain is that the government has ‘spoilt’ the dalits. This has led many among the upper caste groups to opine that since many dalits had moved into more remunerative occupations, the ‘privileges’ that they had been enjoying earlier by virtue of belonging to the ‘poor sections’ could hardly be offered to them any more. Curiously, this demand has an echo among the lower sections of the dalits against the ‘elite dalits’, as I shall show presently.

The dalits do not belittle the ‘help’ that government scholarships and reservations have afforded them, but find them inadequate. For example, the government scholarships, given to about 40,000 children, start from class ninth onwards only.Footnote ¹⁵ Despite the lower level education being free for dalit children, many dalit students do not even reach this level. Moreover, these scholarships are offered to school- and college-going children from families earning less than Rs. 500 per month. This leaves vast numbers of dalits who find education with its tuition fees, books and stationery and uniform an expensive proposition to be accommodated in their meagre income levels. The seat reservation in colleges and universities, especially for medical and engineering, is hardly honoured and in fact ignored at various levels.Footnote ¹⁶ The reality is that the poor economic base of the dalits has led to uneven educational progress. There is high level of illiteracy, massive dropout rate at middle and high school levels and limited access to higher education. An uncertain employment future for the educated and losing a potential earner by sending him/her to school operates behind the withdrawal or the massive dropout rate of the dalit students. An additional factor has been the oppression of the dalit students by many teachers and fellow upper caste students who make classroom an inhospitable and derisive space for the dalits.Footnote ¹⁷

Despite these handicaps, the numbers of literate dalits has doubled (from 4,96,409 to 10,01,028) within a span of 10 years between 1981 and 1991.Footnote ¹⁸ Even then, the rate of literacy among the dalits is only 39.22 per cent as compared to 48.80 per cent among the non-dalits in Haryana.Footnote ¹⁹ Among the so-called literate dalits, there are only 9 per cent who are matriculate and above.Footnote ²⁰ Yet, the popular opinion among the upper caste groups holds that had it not been for education, the lower caste people would not have come into their own ‘despite all the quotas (government-allotted reservations for dalits in the services) in the world’. Education ne sab ka bhatta bittha diya (education is at the root of all ills), they opine.

These viewpoints are not without some substance, though they smack of casteism. Out of a total number of 3,16,472 government employees in Haryana till March 1999, there were 55,697 or 17.59 per cent who belonged to the scheduled caste groups.Footnote ²¹ Most of this representation remains in the lower paid, Class IV jobs, like that of the sweepers, office messengers, gardeners, night watchmen and others, but the ranks of dalit recruits from category III upwards, that is, postman, or office employee or clerk and above, have been increasing steadily. According to the 28th Report of the Commission of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, 1986–87, 20 per cent reservation quota filled in Haryana was as follows:Footnote ²² 5.6 per cent in Class I, 4.7 per cent in Class II and 8.7 per cent in Class III. In these three categories, the reserved quota was nowhere near the prescribed 20 per cent. In Class IV alone, it was 26.20 per cent, which was far above the prescribed percentage. It is clear that in Class IV the dalits are more than proportionately represented mainly because sweepers are included in that category. Castes other than Balmikis and Dhanaks are not willing to take up this polluting work. In the case of sweepers, the caste and its occupational association has not broken down. In a way it stands strengthened as several young men from among the Balmikis, after working as semi-skilled labour, have taken up sweeping, a highly stigmatised job, for its attractive remuneration and the security of tenure.Footnote ²³

The real resentment of the upper castes is coming for reservations in Class III, which is the largest category of employees in the government service and does not require high academic qualification. And it is coming from the lower sections of the upper caste groups who greatly resent intrusion of the dalits into what could have been positions that they wish to avail, for example, that of peons or clerks, as distinct from sweeping, etc. The same goes for low ‘technical’ or skilled jobs like that of motor mechanic available in government-owned workshops attached to public transport corporations such as Haryana Roadways and Delhi Transport Corporation. The dalit jobholders in these may be diploma holders or may have risen from apprentices in private workshops. Yet, they have succeeded in providing competition to the lower sections of the upper caste groups. It may be noted that it is not merely the ‘reserved quota’ but also the competition provided by the dalits in the ‘general category’ that is causing a lot of heartburn among other caste groups.Footnote ²⁴ Another coveted post, which attracts competition and hence resentment, is that of school teachers. It demands a higher academic qualification than do the other jobs cited above. The resentment of the upper caste groups against the dalits taking over teaching jobs is heightened because they do not want their children to be taught by dalit teachers. There are instances when the dominant caste groups beat up the dalit teachers, on being discovered of their dalit identity.Footnote ²⁵

Although a large number of the reserved posts, especially in the higher category, remain vacant and not filled, yet on the whole, job reservations have helped in redefining the identity of dalit youth. Moreover, it is because of reservations that certain dalits have come to occupy posts from where some of them are in a position to disperse favours to the members belonging to the upper caste groups. Many upper caste people spoke of the humiliation they face when they have to make petty requests to the dalit officers for gaining certain favours. The dalits on the other hand feel resentful that even when they are better educated than the upper castes, the latter expect a certain behaviour from them, which is not at one with their status or rank.

It may be noted that the dalits are not challenging the near monopoly of the landownership of the upper caste groups but are providing competition in the services by accessing seats through reservations. In fact, it is noticeable that the young boys among the dominant caste groups are not willing to settle down to an agricultural life in the village. The income generation in the green revolution areas has driven away, rather than attracted, the younger generation from agriculture.Footnote ²⁶ There is, therefore, a great scramble for any employment, high or low, whatever the social status. In a situation where there are more than eight lakh unemployed in Haryana, the competition for government jobs, with its secure income, is intense. The figures of the unemployed (including non-literate, semi-literate, graduates and above, including those technically qualified), registered with the unemployment exchanges in Haryana, had more than doubled in less than 20 years, from 3,59,255 in 1980–81 to 8,11,359 in the year 1999—a staggering rise of 125 per cent.Footnote ²⁷ Out of these, more than half are matriculates, undergraduates, graduates and above.Footnote ²⁸ The enormous increase in the number of educated unemployed in Haryana despite the limited growth in education has meant a great deal of competition for the existing jobs, making even the petty jobs attractive. The intense competition provided by limited jobs offered (especially in the lower class categories) by the local district and state administration tends to isolate and target the reserved posts, which are blamed for limiting the jobs for others.

Resisting Reservations and Accumulation of Social Capital

The reservation category enlarged under the implementation of the Mandal Commission Report in 1990 on caste-based reservation for the other backward classes (OBCs) has made matters much worse for the upper caste groups. OBCs are middle-ranging caste groups that are just above the scheduled castes and though not ‘untouchable’, they have faced discrimination and are socially ‘backward’. In Haryana there are seventy-six castes listed as the OBCs, adding to the thirty-seven scheduled caste groups that already exist under the reservation category.Footnote ²⁹ The OBCs, whose quota for jobs was put at 27 per cent by the central government, have been allotted 5 per cent reservation in government jobs and 2 per cent reservation in professional colleges in Haryana. The Mandal Commission Report evoked extreme reactions, especially among the upper caste groups, comprising the dominant landowning caste groups like the Jats, Rajputs and others as also the trading and business castes like the Banias and Brahmins. In August 1990, the students of Kurukshetra, Rohtak and Hissar actively agitated against it. The lumpen element of the so-called Green Brigade, an outfit of the then ruling party (Bhartiya Lok Dal) and dominated by the Jats, which had entered the students' rank, was violent and undisciplined.Footnote ³⁰ Public property worth several crores of rupees was destroyed. Significantly, the movement against the Mandal Commission Report was not so much against the backward classes as it was against reservations in favour of the scheduled castes. The agitation was used to demand abolition of reservations altogether. The dominant Jats of Haryana, while condemning reservations for the dalits, have demanded to be included among the OBCs, like in Rajasthan and Delhi.Footnote ³¹ Indeed, Late Devi Lal, the former chief minister of Haryana and the then Deputy Prime Minister in 1990, had strong reservations regarding the implementation of the Mandal Scheme.Footnote ³² He tried but failed to persuade the government to alter its view.

The current leading politicians of Haryana, including the past Chief Minister O. P. Chautala, are openly sceptical of reservations not only for the OBCs but also for the dalits.Footnote ³³ Under him certain government measures have gone distinctly against the dalits, especially in relation to facilitating the accumulation of social capital in the form of education and its use in gaining jobs through reservations. For example, in September 2003, the exemption of examination fee uniformly for all dalit children was set aside.Footnote ³⁴ Instead a selective criterion was initiated. The Haryana School Examination Board introduced examination fee for those dalit children who came from families having income above Rs. 350 per month. This measure has worsened the support structure for dalit education, which is quite inadequate and in any case poorly financed. Earlier in June 2002, recruitment of dalits to the post of police constables was made more difficult by raising the required height of a candidate from 5 feet 6 inches to 5 feet 8 inches.Footnote ³⁵ The change, according to the chief minister, was brought about because it was important that the law enforcers must be ‘seen to be dominant’. As many dalits held that ‘their boys are not so tall’, this move could only be perceived as ‘anti-dalit and anti-reservations’—a kind of reversal through the backdoor. According to the dalits this change has had an effect on their recruitment in the police. Although statistics are not available, there are said to be very few dalits, especially at the officers' level, in the Haryana police. Clearly, as the police is a source of enormous power, both punitive and coercive (as well as illegal gratification), the ruling classes feel the need to guard these posts far more closely from ‘encroachments’.

Another corresponding field of authority and power given equally close scrutiny is that of the armed forces. The opening out of the Indian Army, after independence, to all regardless of region, class and caste, and allotment of ‘recruitment quotas’ to different states (according to a certain undisclosed percentage of male figures of recruiting ages),Footnote ³⁶ added to a heightening of the perception of ‘the rise of the dalit’. This opening out has led to a great deal of resentment among members of the traditional recruiting bases. In reality this ideal could hardly be achieved all at once. As the earlier recruitment patterns based on the ‘martial race’ conceptFootnote ³⁷ (which excluded the dalits) and ‘regional preferences’ stood to be gravely disturbed by this ‘opening out’, the new scheme has had to be introduced very gradually. Consequently, despite this ‘opening up’ of the army, by and large, the same ‘classes’ and ‘castes’ of people are still recruited in the army as in the colonial period.Footnote ³⁸ The ‘others’, for example, the dalits, are known to be largely, though not exclusively, recruited in the non-combat forces. Consequently, the attention and pressure exercised by the two chief ministers of Haryana, Bansi Lal and Devi Lal (both Jat by caste), to increase the army recruitment quotaFootnote ³⁹ turned out to benefit the traditional recruiting base drawn primarily from among ‘martial’ caste groups like the Jats, rather than the dalits.

In a situation of severe unemployment, such an open stand of the Haryana Government in favour of dominant castes can only be received as anti-dalit. The implementation of the new economic policies adopted since 1991, leading to the successive withdrawal of the state from the economic management of the resources of the country, has meant not only a severe reduction of employment for all including the dalits but also a dilution of the reservation policy.Footnote ⁴⁰ Privatisation, with its accent on ‘merit’, has shown itself against any sort of reservation for the dalits or any other backward castes. Multi-nationals and other firms (e.g. catering to ‘outsourcing’ from the United States) have also shown their preference for urban, public school English medium upper caste candidates, much to the disadvantage of local Hindi-speaking ruralites from Haryana,Footnote ⁴¹ fragmenting the Haryanavi society even more. The existing socio-economic disparities and the rising cost of education do not allow the majority in Haryana, as elsewhere in India, the opportunity of gaining competition worthiness as the quality of education generally imparted remains ‘sub-standard’. Those who are availing themselves of the advantages of recent changes are primarily either the urban or affluent ruralites and/or the non-Haryanavis. This has had the effect of deepening caste and class polarisation of Haryanavi society even more sharply. The recent mushrooming of the English medium public schools in Haryana considered to be the ‘fastest growing private enterprise’ is related to the demand in the private sector. Significantly, it is not only the majority of the dalits who cannot avail themselves of this expensive education but also the lower sections of the upper caste groups.Footnote ⁴² Unable and perhaps unwilling to raise the objections against their own caste men, the upper caste groups tend to locate competition elsewhere, deflecting it on to the shoulders of the dalits.

The Stratified Layer: Middle Class and Politics

The universal chorus among the dominant caste groups that ‘the lower castes are rising’ is projected to be at the expense of the upper castes as a whole and not necessarily against sections of them. As a proof of how well the dalits are doing, members of the dominant caste groups point out that most of them (dalits) wear better clothes than what they can afford to! Many have cellular phones and two-in-ones (with radio and cassette player), see films and sing filmi songs! Dalits continue to be ‘them’ and the ‘other’. It may be noted that like the landowning caste groups many dalits also fall in the overlapping urban–rural category.Footnote ⁴³ Although, among the dalits the migration of women to the urban centres is more noticeable,Footnote ⁴⁴ it is also true that their attachment to the village or the small piece of land that they may have is no less than that of the landowning groups. Like the dominant caste groups, many among them live in the rural areas and commute daily to their workplaces. Some others have their families in the rural areas, while they may reside in urban centres. With their incomes, as the case studies in the section ‘Inter-caste Associations: Elopements and Marriages’ show, they have been able to build pucca houses in the village and also own cattle. In some instances their standard of living not only equals that of the lower class among the dominant caste groups but also sometimes has a distinct edge. This is all the more noticeable as the social geography of certain villages stands greatly changed. Because of the unplanned expansion and growth of population, the earlier open spaces between different pannas (sub-division of a village) and thola (sub-division of a panna) have been built upon and occupied, leading to mixed pannas of dominant caste and lower caste groups. This ostensible blurring of caste distinctions observed in segregated dwelling spaces, in combination with urbanisation and homogenisation regarding appearance, consumption and lifestyle, has had an unsettling effect. The dominant caste groups know that sections of dalits cannot be singled out from among them, as perhaps they could be earlier.

The forever simmering discontent and resentment of the dominant caste groups relates to the dalits assuming city norms and causing confusion of identities and crumbling of boundaries between ‘them’ and ‘us’ and translates into an ‘imagined threat’. This change is more immediately visible in the realm of family, living style and marriage celebrations. Since occasions like marriage verge on public domain, it has even attracted violence from the dominant the caste groups. The violence inflicted on a dalit bridegroom riding a horse—a symbol of power and authority, and the accompanying wedding procession in village Lohari Jat of district Bhiwani in November 2002, is a case in point. More recently, in February 2003, in village Harsaula of Kaithal district, the Jats did not allow the dalits to celebrate the Ravidas Jayanti festival. The dalits were told to remain within ‘their own boundaries’, and were beaten up brutally for not heeding this advice. About 200 dalits had to leave the village and take shelter in the district headquarters. It was only after a month that they were rehabilitated in the village by the intervention of the district administration. Many such sporadic cases can be cited as examples. Consequently, any breakdown in the correspondence existing between lifestyle and caste, and caste and occupation, is construed as an attempt to change caste itself and hence resisted by the other caste groups.

This disjunction in caste and occupation, and in caste and lifestyle, is most noticeable among the newly emergent ‘middle class’ of educated in-service dalits—a class that was not visible in the colonial period. If social status is evaluated with the help of objective criterion such as level of education, income or occupation, those dalits who have advanced upward to higher government jobs have undoubtedly reached middle class positions. The emergence of this nebulous middle class category among the dalits has proved disconcerting for the upper caste groups as there is a shift of emphasis from birth to one's acquired status through self-achievement, enterprise and agency—all qualities associated with upper caste groups, masculinity and their monopoly of power. The dalits stereotyped as inherently inferior, endowed with a low intellect, supine and docile are repeatedly breaking this image by their educational achievements, occasional assertive behaviour and demands, and exhibition of consciousness of their power and rights in a democratic polity. The educated class among the dalits has a new social perception as it has access to social mobility and portal of power, however limited. This advantageous approach was earlier the preserve of the highborn. In other words, a different ‘social rank’ reflecting the occurrence of a ‘class system’, demanding a distinct degree of ‘social honour’ in which birth is in the background, has undermined the hereditary occupation/specialisation and the hierarchically arranged society/groups.

Moreover, as dalits, they may lack organisation and coherence in the local context, but as a class category they are vocal and ‘leaders’ of a different society. This class has the capacity to evolve towards greater socio-economic complexity leading to a transformation of stratification. In other states, this class has provided the fulcrum of rising criticism against the discrimination and atrocities committed against the dalits. For instance, in the neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh, the Backward and Minority Communities Employees' Federation (BAMCEF), established in 1978 by Kanshi Ram (a Ramdasia Chamar Sikh from a Punjab village and a government employee), was a successful attempt. BAMCEF could organise the educated government employees, who had benefited from the reservations, and the subordinate sections of the middle class among the dalits, as a core body to contribute to the welfare of their communities.Footnote ⁴⁵ They later came to have a political thrust and proved to be the parent body of the present highly successful Bahujan Samaj Party established in 1984.Footnote ⁴⁶ A middle class among the dalits has been in the process of formation and consolidation in different parts of India. The educated among the dalits act as leaders to unify their caste group to compete for jobs and political power in democratic/electoral contestations.

In Haryana too the upper castes are aware that the contest, material, social and political, is likely to come from this class segment of the dalits. Politically, the dalits have supported the Congress, by and large, since the colonial period.Footnote ⁴⁷ In the post-colonial period, a greater diversification of their support for different groups and parties has taken place. Yet, the possibility of change, which may mean an identification of the problems of the community rather than individual mobility through a political party, has always existed. The likelihood of such happening has been very unsettling for the political leadership drawn from among the dominant castes, greatly troubled by the underlying tension between them. So far, they have succeeded in ‘capping their rise’, both socially and politically.Footnote ⁴⁸ Yet, there are apprehensions that a dalit middle class that has long been in the process of formation and consolidation in Haryana is likely to throw up social and political leaders to unify their caste groups to compete for political power as in the case of Uttar Pradesh. It is clear that the dalits are perceived as political opponents.

However, the position and role of this class given to contradictory pulls remain ambiguous and even opposing. Here it may be noted that the concerns of the middle class dalits are different from the concerns of the majority of dalits who are connected with agriculture. Moreover, in certain ways the emergence of this class has had adverse implications not only for inter-community relations but also for the internal cohesion of the dalits themselves.Footnote ⁴⁹ The opinion surveys indicate that quite often the caste allegiance of successful dalits recedes into the background, making it difficult for them to give effective leadership.Footnote ⁵⁰ Similarly, the cross-caste connections of middle class dalits are also effective in negating their caste ties. The resultant social fragmentation prevents the forging of a sense of political community. Without such a sense no political action can be effective.Footnote ⁵¹ There is, however, no appreciable group mobility among this class of dalits vis-a-vis other social groups, although the individual upward mobility has taken place in many instances. A lack of social integration with the middle class of other upper caste groups does have the effect of pushing the dalits towards their own castemen. It is also undeniable that the educated among them have a group identity that can be used to galvanise unity and wider support.Footnote ⁵² It may also be noted that it is not the lowest sections among the dalits who raise the issue of caste identities and social dignity, but the educated/employed and articulate.

There are also certain other factors that impede the coming together of the dalits as a community. The benefits accruing through positive discrimination are neither enough nor shared by all. The overwhelming majority of successful candidates come from a few dalit castes, sections of which had enjoyed a somewhat better position in the colonial period. Among these groups the Chamars are leading in Haryana.Footnote ⁵³ Also, the field experience shows that family members of those who have been earlier recipients of its benefits best avail of the gains of reservations. In effect an elite has grown up within the dalits that tends to reproduce itself and thus monopolise the advantages provided by the government, leading to a kind of ‘brahminisation’ of the upper crust of the dalits. This is a point of great heart burning and division among the dalits who in their scramble for limited seats demand a one-time use of reservation category for a dalit family.Footnote ⁵⁴ Not withstanding these internal fissures, it is clear that for the upper caste groups, middle class sections of dalits are posing a threat. Clearly, although the dalits are spoken of and projected as a monolith–undifferentiated category, the reality is entirely different.

Customary Rules and Traditional Concepts

Inter-caste alliances, especially among upper caste and lower caste groups, were not entirely uncommon in the colonial period. However, as I argue elsewhere, this was more often than not confined to a secondary alliance rather than the primary one.Footnote ⁶³ More importantly, this practice did not go unchallenged. From the late nineteenth century onwards attempts were made to move the court in those cases where caste endogamy had not been observed. A large number of such cases involved lower caste women. Yet, taking wives from low caste never became a norm as such or was practiced on a wide scale. In the changed socio-economy of the post-colonial period, such secondary associations are no longer socially acceptable.Footnote ⁶⁴ Both men and women are under pressure to remain within the caste, though this pressure on men is not as great or equal to that exercised on women. There is certainly a constriction of opportunity not only for men but also more importantly for lower caste women who earlier had the facility to marry in castes above them.

In this article, however, the focus of study is essentially on primary association, which continues to be very strictly governed by certain rules. The customary rules regulating the biah or shadi (marriage) for all caste groups, upper or lower, uphold caste endogamy and village exogamy. (Caste endogamy places all the caste groups, and not necessarily the dalits, outside the system of alliance, although it has to be acknowledged that the reaction to an alliance with a dalit evokes far more pronounced and violent a reaction than with the other caste groups.) This means that all men and women of the same clan, same localised clan and same village, whatever their caste, are bound by the morality of brother–sister and therefore both sex and marriage are prohibited between members of any of these units.Footnote ⁶⁵ Such a prohibition creates the idealised biradari and bhaichara—both that of the village and various caste groups, which establishes equality between all and denies all hierarchy. Although clandestine sexual relations do occur among classificatory or village brothers and sisters, any social approval of them in the form of marriage is considered an approval of incest and therefore violently resisted.Footnote ⁶⁶ Significantly, terms like bhai (brother) and behan (sister) in villages are even used for persons who are not related to each other. Transcending ties of biological kinship, they embrace all men or women of the village of one's own generation, not withstanding caste affiliations. Legally, however, such customary marriage restrictions have no validity. Briefly speaking, under the Hindu Marriage Act (1955), except for certain prohibited degree of relationship, the legal restrictions on marriage are almost non-existent.Footnote ⁶⁷ Yet, in questions of marriage, as I argue elsewhere, the role of the state remains highly ambiguous.Footnote ⁶⁸ It emerges as providing a space for social change as well as space for intervention to stem the process of social change. The customary law, on the other hand, unlike the law of the land, does not permit inter-caste marriages.

To overcome caste and customary prohibitions some couples run away from the village to get married, evoking great tension and violence in the rural areas. It may be stated here that these breaches are not new; they have taken place even in the past. The post-colonial political economy suggests an increase, but it is difficult to confirm it statistically with any degree of accuracy or certainty. The local dominant opinion, by linking these breaches to the ‘rise of the dalits’, certainly propounds an increase. Such breaches provoke the biradari to use the traditional tools available to them in the form of caste or village panchayats to stem such attempts. For illustrating the outcome of such runaway cases I shall take up a few case studies, involving the dalits. Two of the more recent and intertwined cases belong to village Loharhedi in district Jhajjar. The resolution of these cases by the caste panchayat reiterated the might of customary practices and cultural norms in the face of law. The study highlights how in the exercise of these norms differential treatment is meted out to the concerned parties on the basis of their caste and class affiliations as well as gender considerations.

Unmatched Matches

In September 2000, in village Loharhedi, a Jat-dominated village, Ravinder, a Jat boy, and Sushila, a Balmiki girl, were hauled up before an all-caste panchayat of the village. Their ‘love affair’ was severely condemned. The panchayat decreed that blackening their faces, cutting off their hair and taking them around the village on donkeys should publicly shame them. Ravinder's face was blackened and so was the forehead of a bitterly crying Sushila. A part of Ravinder's head was shaved off and Sushila's long hair was cut from the middle. Ravinder was also made to wear a garland of shoes. When they were being taken around the village on donkeys, Ravinder jumped onto his friend's scooter and escaped. The traumatised girl was taken home and later dispatched to her relatives in Bombay. The villagers were quiet about the whereabouts of the boy. He was known to have started to visit the village again within 6 months of this case. There was, however, no guarantee of the girl's safety if she were to return to the village. Her family feared for her life.

The Balmiki family was extremely bitter and resentful of the treatment meted out to Sushila. They pointed out that it was unprecedented and against all cultural norms and tradition for a girl to be publicly summoned and punished by the caste panchayat. They also pointed out that in another case, which took place about 6 months ago, involving Sarla, a Jat girl, and Ashok, a Nai boy, no one had dared behave towards the girl in such a manner. The couple had run away and got married. They were caught in Mandi, in Himachal Pradesh, and taken into police custody. Sarla refused to leave her husband to go with her father and brother. It was only after the Jats threatened Ashok's family of dire consequences and expulsion from the village that Ashok's family undertook to persuade Sarla to come back to the village on the promise that she would be publicly married to Ashok. Once home, she was handed over to her natal family where she was brutally beaten and pressurised into disowning and condemning Ashok. This led to slapping of cases of abduction, kidnapping and rape on him. According to Ashok's brother, apart from these cases, another equally fictitious and criminal case of an attempt to murder (the driver of the vehicle the couple had used to make a getaway) was slapped on Ashok. Because of the seriousness of the charges, Ashok was not granted bail by the court. In fact, Ashok's brother was not keen to pursue bail for him, as he feared that the dominant Jat community of the village might kill Ashok. He maintained that he would rather wait for this matter to die out, as he did not want to endanger Ashok's life. Till date (2003) Ashok remains involved in a protracted criminal litigation. These cases will take a long time to fold up.

Although both Ashok and Sarla are alive, in several cases the couple is killed. In the May 2002 case of village Shimli, district Rohtak, the runaway girl belonging to a Jat family and a lower caste boy were hounded and caught in Gurgaon.Footnote ⁶⁹ The villagers confidentially admitted that they were brought back and administered poison and burnt while still alive. The police was informed only after a day of their cremation. The police rounded up several people for an inquiry. All of them were set free as no witnesses were coming forward. The police pleaded its helplessness.

Similarly, in 1998, in village Ratdhana, a Brahmin girl and a Lohar boy were tied to an electric pole and hacked to death, right in the middle of the village compound. No one came forward as a witness. Later a Lohar relative of the boy was accused and booked for murder by the police. The general opinion of people in this region, cutting across caste and class, is that if a lower caste man is involved with an upper caste woman, he is invariably killed. And the girl, whether belonging to the upper caste or the lower, is almost certainly eliminated. This is observed to be the general pattern in Haryana, adopted by the dominant caste groups and decreed by the caste panchayat.

Sarla, by such standards, should certainly have been killed by her family members. Although not killed, Sarla was quickly married off, as an alternative action. Sarla belonged to a well-to-do family. Her family owned about a hundred bighas of land—the largest single holding in the village. Her grandfather had been a sarpanch and one of her uncles was in the police. She was married quietly, in a greatly compromised match, in village Nooran Kheda of district Sonepat. It may be noted that in cases such as these, where the girl's ‘notoriety’ becomes public knowledge, the much-desired status hypergamy for the girl, or for the family, cannot be maintained. Sarla's husband and his three other brothers were all illiterate and unemployed. With inconsequential landholding they severely lacked income or other means of support. This factor had kept them unmarried. Sarla's husband was reputed to be an alcoholic who was given to beating her up frequently. The villagers of Nooran Kheda held his family in great contempt. Having had to spend a great deal of money in marrying her off, Sarla's natal family showed no further interest in her. Informants say that for all purposes she might well be dead for them. Sarla was said to be extremely unhappy in her marriage and people opined that she might commit suicide as many of the girls are known to do in such cases.

Indeed, it is a well-known and openly stated fact that a large number of girls who are forcibly ‘retrieved’ in cases of elopement or marriage are either murdered or pressurised to commit suicide. The girls are either administered poison (a popular pesticide) or pushed into well—the two most well-known ways to eliminate them. These are then claimed as suicides. The police readily accept this contention and close the case. According to the police, this is because they know that no one will come to testify to the contrary. A girl's death is seen as the only way in which the ‘honour’ of the family can be salvaged. To this may be added the financial burden of marrying a girl who was said to have eloped. In the given dowry economy of Haryana, such a girl is more of a burden than a normal case.

In keeping with the ‘conspiracy of silence’ maintained by the village and caste community, the caste panchayat that met immediately after the arrest of the couple (Sarla and Ashok) was absolutely quiet on the role of the girl. About this silence they pointed out that a beti of the village was shared by all and could not be dishonoured. The panchayat gave its verdict to socially boycott Ashok's family. Interestingly, this boycott could not be observed for too long and collapsed within 6 months. The only Nai family in the village, Ashok's family belonged to the middle caste group (OBC) and not to the scheduled caste category. Moreover, this family was not inconsequential in the village. Two out of six of Ashok's brothers were in government service. The rest were in family business as the leading suppliers of milk to the city. They also had moneylending as a side business.

Cases such as this, located in sound financial base, give substance to the general opinion voiced by many of the lower caste groups, mentioned earlier, who hold themselves in high esteem and find themselves to be equal to other caste groups. Indeed, Ashok's brother, when interviewed, repeatedly asserted that the Jat girl was ‘after Ashok’ and was determined to marry him and that it was she who took the lead. A similar opinion was voiced in another runaway case of village Narela, involving a Jat girl and a dalit boy.Footnote ⁷⁰ In this case the family members of the dalit boy had blamed the Jat girl by maintaining: koi mard nahin bhagaa sakta, aurat hi bhagaati hai (it is always a woman who initiates an elopement. No man can do it). It may be noted here that the emphasis is not merely on gender here but also on caste. It implicitly accepts that no dalit man can dare ask a Jat girl to elope.

The sound economic standing of Ashok's family turned the implementation of social boycott decreed by the Jat panchayat extremely difficult. The panchayat's decree was repeatedly infringed by their creditors, which included even some of the Jats. Imposition of fines on the violators by the panchayat became difficult to implement. Many a time infringements had to be overlooked, because the Jats were the culprits. As Ashok's brother maintained that addha gaon hamare paise se khata hai (half the village is our creditor), made the panchayat's verdict infructuous. Consequently, when the second case, that of Ravinder and Sushila's, erupted soon afterwards, the frustration regarding this case had built up considerably among the Jats.

The Power Equations: Dalits and Jats

The socio-economic profile of Loharhedi and a few details of the case establish direct linkages with the inter-community relationships between different sections of the dominant and lower caste groups analysed in the section ‘Changing Profile: Political Economy’. It also brings to the fore certain dimensions regarding the selective use of cultural practices to settle scores in rural society, which need to be highlighted. Loharhedi is an overwhelmingly Jat village with 80 per cent of the population being Jats. The Jats are severely divided. They occupy both the strata, that of the landowners as well as agricultural labourers. Many among the landowners also have additional income from sources other than agriculture like the services. This gives them additional prosperity, prestige and power. Ravinder's family, for example, not only had land but also had family members in the services: one of his uncles was in the police and his father, an ex-army man, had his pension as well as his salary from his employment in a factory.

Apart from such families there are a large number of Jats who own insignificant areas of land and some are even landless. They work as agricultural labourers in the fields of their castemen, just as the lower caste groups. As the ‘more hardy’ Jats are preferred for agriculture labour by their castemen, there is perceptible tension between the lower class Jats and other lower caste groups. Yet, caste-wise the Jats have an upper hand and are keen to drive it home whenever the occasion arises. The former tend to gang up with their caste brothers against the latter. The lower castes, mainly consisting of Chamars and Balmikis, on the other hand, are numerically far fewer in village Loharhedi when compared to Jats. Most of them work as agricultural labourers. Yet, some of them who have been able to take advantage of educational opportunities have aspired and some even gained access to positions such as that of peons, clerks and drivers or have been taken in the military service. Yet others, as mentioned above, have become salaried workers in the city centres by utilising their traditional occupation of sweeping and cleaning to get into stable and gainful employment. Loharhedi Balmikis can be found as cleaners in hospitals in urban areas of Haryana like Chandigarh and even in places like Bombay. Sushila's father, for example, was employed in a government hospital in Rohtak as a janitor and commuted daily to Rohtak. He earned a fair amount of money. Out of the money earned he had also built a pucca house in the village. His children, Sushila and two sons, instead of providing their labour in the fields of the Jat landowners were being educated.

The antipathy of the dominant caste groups towards the education of lower castes, as observed earlier, is not merely directed towards their men but also towards their women. Here it may be noted that, by and large, the landowning caste groups' attitude towards the education of their own women is ambivalent.Footnote ⁷¹ They are not really sympathetic. There is considerable anxiety about education as they hold it responsible for women going astray even in the context of their own women. Parents are reluctant to get their daughters educated beyond a point, especially if it involves sending them out of the village. A large number of cases of runaway couples belong to the educated class. Educational institutions provide significant social context and spaces through which such liaisons surface. The enhanced mobility and the social space provided by the educational institutions are known to erase social divisions and hierarchy maintained in the village. The changed social geography of the villages, leading to mixed pannas, mentioned in the section ‘Changing Profile: Political Economy’, has similarly encouraged an outward integration of population between different caste groups on the one hand and generated tension between them on the other. More significantly, these changes are perceived as encouraging interaction between the youth of different communities and leading to elopements. Clearly, the younger generation with increased sense of self-identity, self-worth and education has a different attitude towards inter-caste marriages. They may not be voicing it though. It is because of this ‘threat’ that from time to time there have been moves against such spaces that accommodate both girls and boys. A sarv khap (all clan) panchayat held at village Sisana in district Sonepat, on 21 March 1993, unanimously passed a resolution against setting up of co-educational schools.Footnote ⁷² The ‘danger’ of a mixing of the sexes is commonly acknowledged by all caste groups and considered morally reprehensible. Sarla's case is touted as an example of this. According to them it was education that gave her ‘such ideas’.

The lower caste groups share this negative opinion regarding education of women. In Loharhedi also they felt that ‘too much of education’ imparted to Sushila had led to this situation. Even the girl's parents blamed themselves for having ‘educated’ the girl. Sushila, a bright and disciplined student, stood out among other girls (majority being Jat) because of her diligent attitude towards studies. Her teachers in the village vouched this for Sushila. According to them she was getting educated with a view to employment. In a way, it is not only dalit men but also dalit women who may be said to provide competition, this time to the upper caste women. The resentment is emanating from ‘reserved’ positions in institutions that offer vocational and professional courses like that of nursing and training for school teachers. As these courses offer a better opportunity for employment for women, the limited seats in such institutions attract bitter competition. Yet, it is also true that the percentage of educated females among the lower caste groups is only 18.87 per cent as compared to 40.54 per cent among the upper caste groups.Footnote ⁷³ For example, Sushila was the only girl in her community to go in for high school education in the village. The rest of the lower caste girls were class four or class six dropouts. When this case erupted, Sushila was in tenth class and staying in the hostel in Sampla. Ravinder was doing his BA. As a child, Sushila had often sought his help in studies. Her teachers also hold Sushila's higher studies and her mobility, that is, travelling outside the village, responsible for her kharab hona (going astray). The Jats, by and large, called her badmash (bad character) who coveted a Jat boy and aspired to marry him.

There are several such cases of ‘unequal’ inter-caste alliances, involving higher landowning caste groups and the dalits, which can be cited.Footnote ⁷⁴ Not all of them are dealt with by the caste panchayat. They are also tackled by the male family members of the dominant caste groups. In a notorious case of April 1998, violence was inflicted upon a dalit family on suspicion alone. In village Juaan, district Sonepat, a landowning Jat family suspected one of their girls to be involved with a lower caste boy, whose family worked as agricultural labourers in their fields. The boy, like many others of his caste, had opted out of agricultural work and was studying towards a different vocation. The landowning men took the matter in their hands by beating up the male members of the dalit family when they were working in their fields. The dalits had to be hospitalised. They also raped the wife of one of the family member and mutilated her private parts. The police station officer at Gannaur refused to register their complaint for 3 days. Only after the lower caste groups surrounded the police station was the First Information Report (FIR) lodged. The case got registered but was opined to be extremely weak for any conviction of the culprits in a court of law. This left great bitterness all around. The accused are still free.

In another case of July 2002, in village Talao of Jhajjar district, the elopement of a Jat girl with a Chamar boy ended in tragedy. The younger sister of this girl, who had been helping her in this affair, had also accompanied the couple, as she apprehended violence from the family members. The parents of the girl had refused to even entertain such a hypogamous alliance. The Superintendent of Police, Jhajjar, maintained proudly that he worked ‘very hard’ on this case, spending a week in Talao and another week in following the trail of the girls. During this investigation the dalits were repeatedly humiliated by the Jat community in the presence of the police, leading to the suicide of a young dalit woman and an elderly dalit man, both accused of helping the absconding youngsters. After two weeks the girls surfaced, were taken into police custody and handed over to their family. Within 2 days of being handed back, both the girls were dead. They allegedly consumed poison. The parents testified that it was a suicide and the police accepted it readily. The police claimed that the girls had threatened suicide even in the police station. The villagers maintain in confidence that the girls were killed. A Jat woman in village Talao opined that the girls were told to denounce the boy and testify that they had been ‘lured and enticed’ by the dalit boy. The girls refused to oblige. ‘It was because of this that they had to be killed’, maintained the Jat woman. Indeed, the older girl in her testimony to the magistrate had also stated that she was married to the boy. The advocate, defending the dalit boy, showed his sympathy and complicity with the dominant caste groups, as well as perhaps fear, by not even moving the application for his bail. The boy charged with abduction, kidnapping, rape and criminal conspiracy remained in jail for years, even after the so called ‘victims’ were dead.

‘Honour’ Among the Lower Castes

An aspiration of alliance by the dalits with the upper castes is construed as a move towards status formation and upward mobility by the latter. The Balmikis of Loharhedi denounced any such aspirations and maintain that they are as zealous followers of caste endogamy and village exogamy as the upper castes. Indeed, the marriage of their girl with a Jat boy was not considered hypergamous or raising of their status. As one of them put it us ka to sawal he na ootthata (the question [of such a marriage] does not arise). According to them such a marriage did not and could not improve their status, as may be the case with other upper caste groups. Clearly, status hypergamy lies strictly within the caste and not outside it. On the other hand, in the opinion of the dalits, the insistence of upper caste groups on this issue was a disturbing pointer to the fact that neech log (low castes) think about caste matters differently from them. It is perhaps because of the awareness of this perception that the lower caste groups displayed some anxiety about stressing ‘no difference’ in thinking from the high castes in relation to observing caste endogamy in marriage. In reality, opinion among different sections of dalits remains divided. The defiance to the norm of caste endogamy is after all coming from the young dalits. Also, as mentioned above, the younger educated dalits are desirous of marrying educated girls (not readily available in their own caste) from upper caste groups. On the other hand, the older generation, both men and women, as also the overwhelming numbers connected with agriculture, is firmly against such marriages.

It may be noted that the lower caste groups are as much hierarchy ridden and caste status conscious as the upper caste groups. The following cases involve lower caste groups caught in the contradiction of village exogamy as well as caste endogamy, highlighting how most caste groups follow the dominant caste norms in this region. In October 1997, for example, a Khati girl of village Bigdanna, district Bhiwani, ran away with a Jogi boy from the same village. They could not be traced. Within the lower caste groups, Khati caste in Haryana is rated higher than Jogi. A multi-caste panchayat that met expelled the Jogi family from the village. The boy's parents and his five brothers were beaten up, their household things were either damaged or looted and their meagre crops were destroyed.

The presence of upper caste groups in the multi-caste panchayat seems to suggest that their norms of caste endogamous marriage were being imposed on the lower caste groups. But this may not be strictly true. Each caste group has its own biradari to enforce its rules. Yet, the dominant caste of the region often could, if needed, arrogate to itself the power to enforce the internal behaviour of an endogamous group. Therefore, even the lower castes could not be allowed to breach the caste endogamous rules, as breaches are considered dangerous. If condoned, they may well spread to other caste groups. Although this sceptre exists, an occasion for such an intervention may not arise. The lower caste groups are as much ‘honour bound’ and status conscious as the dominant caste groups. They also observe the norms of caste-endogamous marriage and deal with such cases individually or through panchayats in similar fashion as the dominant castes do. Yet, given their weak socio-economic position they are unable to claim any such honour especially in relation to the dominant castes.Footnote ⁷⁵ They may vaguely share in the honour of the village as a whole. This identification may mean going willingly or unwillingly along with the dictates of the dominant caste leadership. The dalits find it extremely difficult, if not impossible, to withstand the dictates of the caste or village panchayat in which they occupy the same peripheral and demeaning position as in the village society. Their consent is taken for granted and even if the decision goes against them, they are considered a part of and a supporter of such a decision. This was clearly evidenced in the Loharhedi cases. In fact, the only ‘honour’ which the lower caste groups may ‘honourably’ claim is in relation to their caste members and lies in their ability to enforce it within their own caste group. Denied any claims of honour in relation to upper castes, the lower castes therefore become hypersensitive in defending it within their own castes. Such a concept of honour can not only be claimed but also defended and implemented.

In this connection, a recent case of October 2001 can be cited where a caste panchayat of the Chamars in village Dujjana in Beri district expelled from the village the family of the girl who belonged to the Balmiki caste for breaking the norm of caste endogamy. The boy she was involved with belonged to the Chamar caste. The whereabouts of the girl's family are not known but she is rumoured to have been killed. The boy is occasionally seen in the village. In another case from village Ahulana in district Gohana, a Chamar boy and a Balmiki girl committed suicide in April 2001 fearing opposition to their marriage.Footnote ⁷⁶ The cases of youngsters committing suicide, to pre-empt opposition and violent retribution, are widespread among all caste groups. They are aware that their desire for each other will never be allowed to culminate into marriage. These cases are frequently and sensationally reported in the regional dailies. Such suicides or murders are acknowledged to be because of the well-known antipathy of all caste groups to inter-caste marriages.

Dalits and the State Agencies

In Sushila's case, the humiliation inflicted upon her had the effect of bringing the two factions of the Balmikis together. A vocal lot, they said that they would not be bullied by anyone. They cited an earlier case in the village in which they had been in direct clash with the Jats over grazing rights. This case corroborates the analysis of the conflict between the dalits and landowning castes given in the section ‘Changing Profile: Political Economy’. For example, in village Loharhedi, the dalits had a long-standing disagreement with the Jats over grazing rights. In the clash that ensued over the use of the shamilat, reportedly a Balmiki accidentally killed a jhota (bull) of the Jat landowners. Such a killing, even though accidental, is considered a heinous crime—a crime that must be punished. It is an entirely different matter that the landowners are themselves known to kill a bull for destroying their field and crop.Footnote ⁷⁷

This killing was made a pretext by the Jat panchayat of the village to fine all the Balmikis. Although unjust, according to the Balmikis, they still paid the fine. They clearly were not in a position to resist the imposition. This had the effect of feeding into the existing resentment and tension between the two. The independent income of some of the Balmikis, through outside jobs and their small forays in education to fulfil aspirations toward jobs, had already laid grounds of this friction. So when the Balmiki girl was discovered to have developed intimacy with a Jat boy, the Jats pounced on her, ‘to teach the lower castes a lesson’. In this the targeted Balmiki girl was used as a prop for the otherwise divided and heavily factionalised Jats to come together to attack the lower caste groups to assert their dominance.

Rumours of Sushila's marriage with Ravinder were floated and stories were spun as to how Sushila would visit Ravinder attired in boy's clothes to spend her nights with him. The Balmiki family, unable to take this vilification, approached the police to register an FIR that they were being harassed by the Jats. In such inter-caste cases the lower caste group may take recourse to the state agencies, specially the law, because they lack power in the village. The other alternative is to seek help from the National Human Rights Commission, which is also resorted to, showing a high level of awareness among the dalits. But the dominant caste groups may still block the legal writ, as the police protection is available sporadically, whereas the lurking danger or threat from the dominant caste group is constant. Consequently, the lower caste groups shy away from taking recourse to the law of the land.

Indeed, there is complicity between the perpetrators of violence and the police about the ‘justice’ done for the sake of ‘honour’. Many times it is known to take a lead in preserving this ‘honour’.Footnote ⁷⁸ Police in northern India, heavily drawn from upper caste dominating groups, is acknowledgedly casteist. Moreover, its criminalisation and commercialisation are well-known facts: monetary considerations overrule merit in recruitment, promotion and transfer. Because of its association with ‘power’ and dominance, the dominant caste groups' anxiety to retain their hold over it is greater. That is why, as noted in the section ‘Changing Profile: Political Economy’, the appointment of dalits in the reserved seats in the police department was sought to be scuttled by the reigning Chief Minister O. P. Chautala. In law keeping, the socio-political role of such a force has proved to be highly dubious. In matters such as these they are known to watch from sidelines. In their opinion the caste leaders or the caste panchayat and not the law of the land, which applies a different criterion of justice, must resolve social issues.

The police action or inaction has created nervousness among different communities, especially the lower castes, who fear open partiality and hidden biases in reporting the case or in not obeying the decision of powerful high caste panchayats. In worst cases the community leaders openly assert: ‘The police can do whatever they want, but we have to punish the culprit in our own way’. Even in the Loharhedi case, as in most such cases, the police ‘persuaded’ or ‘bullied’ the Balmikis to take up the matter with an all-caste panchayat of the village, fully knowing the power equations working in such a body. As mentioned above, the panchayat that was overwhelmingly Jat not only broke its own tradition but also attempted to create new one. The verdict was delivered on the premise of ‘maintaining time honoured village customs and cultural practices’.

Caste, Class and Gender: The Deciding Factors

The caste panchayat that had hauled up the woman also hauled up the man. Yet, there was a perceptible difference in their attitude towards them. The eyewitness accounts were unanimous in pointing out that Ravinder was not only unrepentant but also openly defiant of the caste panchayat's proceedings. He certainly submitted to the decreed punishment quietly, but he also defied them. Eyewitnesses recounted how he dared to wipe out Sushila's tears in full assembly of the panchayat. Despite being slapped by his elder brother for this and threatened by his mother who, standing with a gandasa (cleaver), vowed to kill him, he ran away on his friend's scooter. The popular opinion maintained that the whole thing was staged–managed by the panchayat and the Jat biradari was complicit in making him run away.

It is true that Ravinder too was publicly punished, but it is equally true that he was also allowed to run away. Ravinder's mother (who in an unprecedented move attended this panchayat) provided a clue to this apparent contradiction. When interviewed, she abused Ravinder for giving a handle to the other faction of Jats to establish their chaudharat (ascendancy) in the village. As this matter concerned the dominant status of the Jats vis-a-vis other caste groups, it succeeded in uniting them across class and factional lines. There was no dissident voice. Yet it is also true that the faction of Jats to which Ravinder belonged stood particularly disgraced. This in return strengthened the opposing faction. As one Jat boy crudely put it, ‘who wants to marry a Chuhri, we only have intercourse with them’. Sexual liaison of a dominant caste man with a lower caste woman certainly establishes his masculinity and virility. The same cannot be said of his serious intent to marry her. This intent introduces a kind of weakness contingent upon the question of morality and ethics not necessarily associated with masculinity or virility. The much ‘coveted macho qualities’ stand above considerations of morality and ethics especially in relation to women of lower caste groups.

Ravinder's serious involvement with a Balmiki girl to the extent of wanting to marry her not only stood severely condemned by the caste panchayat's treatment of him but also was meant to act as a future deterrent. The public spectacle made out of the two lovers was a move towards this. One of the panch opined that it was important to create bhaye (fear) in people's mind regarding recurrence of such incidence. He also said that another similar case was brewing, which, because of this case, will be effectively nipped in the bud. Equally important is that this treatment brought the two factions of Jats together against the lower castes groups and had a more lasting effect on inter-relationship between the two, rather than on Jat factional politics.

Clearly, the caste and class factors intervene to determine the decisions of the traditional panchayats. The treatment of the two girls in the same village, a Jat and a Balmiki, stands in sharp contrast, same as that of the Jat and the Nai boy. The Jat girl was not hauled up by the caste panchayat or even her name mentioned, for that would have slurred the honour of her caste and the village. Here, the word caste and village are held synonymous with the Jats. In all this, any punishment to be inflicted upon her was accepted as the concern of her family. It was considered a private matter best left to them to decide. The Balmiki girl, on the other hand, was hauled up by the panchayat. A private concern in her case became a public matter. There was also some talk among the Jats, supported by some Balmikis, of eliminating her for bringing ‘dishonour’ to the village. A Balmiki youth even agreed to do the hatchet job, but later withdrew. Although not killed she was publicly punished and humiliated. It was thought fit not to leave her to her family but to make an example of her. Her ‘honour’ was not treated as the ‘honour’ of the village. Instead her public humiliation was treated as having saved it.

The punishment inflicted upon the Balmiki girl brings to the fore the differential treatment meted out to the two girls, Jat and Balmiki, by the caste panchayat members. When asked about this difference of approach the panchayati members pointed out that they had been greatly criticised in the earlier case of Sarla and Ashok, involving a Jat girl and a Nai boy, for differentiating between the boy and the girl when both were equally involved in the affair. The former had been set free whereas the latter had been punished. This anomaly was sought to be set right in the second case by inflicting punishment on both of them: the Jat boy and Balmiki girl. ‘We cannot allow the fair name of the panchayat to be sullied’, they maintained. Regarding the hauling of a woman in the panchayat, they pointed out that traditionally the caste panchayat had the right to summon anyone, man or woman, they wished to interrogate. It is a different matter, they said, if they do not often exercise such a right in relation to women. This right could be activated whenever they found good enough reason for it and no one could challenge it.Footnote ⁷⁹

Indeed, the applicability of traditional concepts by the caste or village panchayats is conditional. For instance, the principle of bhaichara also translates into that of village exogamy. The involvement of the two couples belonging to the same village, though of different caste groups, strictly fell within the purview of village exogamy as it breached the time-honoured tradition of siblinghood.Footnote ⁸⁰ Yet, in Loharhedi, the concept of village exogamy was not raised in any of the two cases. In matters concerning dominant higher and subordinate lower caste groups these concepts clearly have no relevance. In fact, this concept, as applied in village Loharhedi, made a difference between a Jat beti and a Balmiki beti. The former was the village beti but the latter was not.

Caste and class intervened again to determine the caste panchayat's attitude towards the two boys and the punishment meted out to them. It was the Nai boy who was the recipient of the Jat community's wrath, whereas the Jat boy was allowed to run away. With the help of the law and police, the former was imprisoned, tied up in innumerable cases that may well take several years to untangle, whereas the latter was free to lead his life without any fear whatsoever. The fate of the girls, however, was not so different. Both could have been physically eliminated, as ‘tradition’ seems to dictate. Yet both are alive. The Jat girl's legal marriage was turned illegal. She was forced to marry a second time; and she was forced into a ruinous match. The Balmiki girl's career aspirations were ruined forever. It is likely that she too was heading for a ruinous match like the Jat girl. The lives of both were tainted and lay in shambles. Again, in both the cases, the dominant caste group to settle wider issues at stake used women, not withstanding their caste affiliations. The ‘honour’ at stake was not personal to the women but to the dominant community. The ‘Jat honour’ held synonymous with the village honour was considered to have been redeemed.

Notwithstanding the caste–class matrix of power described above, the attitude towards the two women remained identical. Both were considered ‘lustful’ who had initiated and invited the men. However, such an insistence had a different fallout in relation to the two men. In the case of the dominant caste woman and the lower caste man such a stand had the effect of denying the ‘sexual conquest’ of a woman by a man, a conventional sign of masculine identity. The agency of the man in this was denied or subverted. As argued by Anandhi et al, this denial of ‘sexual conquest’ of upper caste woman by lower caste man negated the ‘virile’ image of the dalit.Footnote ⁸¹ The lustful agency given to the dominant caste woman took away from the lower caste man his virility, sexuality and masculinity. In the case of the dominant caste man and the dalit woman such a reading was at one with the stereotypical perception of the ‘lustful nature’ of dalit women. The comments made by many dominant caste women in this respect were revealing. Many opined: ‘What can our boys do when these women are so easily available to them’. Such sexual encounters are taken in their stride, by most, as a part of the growing up process of the boys. However, the intent of marriage in a case like this clearly stood to weaken this image (of lustful low caste woman and virile upper caste man) rather than substantiate it.

Curiously, regarding inter-caste marriages, the general opinion in the villages is that they are outside the purview of the caste panchayat. They do not form a part of the traditional concerns of this body. Some of the caste panchayats are reported to have even passed resolutions to encourage inter-caste marriages. I was, however, unable to trace out even a single one. When approached it was always some other panchayat that had passed such a resolution. Officially, even the state is given to encouraging such marriages by rewarding couples, if one of the partners is a dalit. The total amount of this reward money was increased from Rs. 2 lakh to 3 lakh in the financial year of 2000.Footnote ⁸² Essentially, it is pointed out that such marriages are considered to be a private matter. If the family concerned accepts an inter-caste marriage, then the panchayat has no say. The panchayat gets activated only when the family does not agree and requests it to intervene. Otherwise primarily the family members deal with such matters.

Yet, it is clear that the caste panchayat reflects the dominant popular opinion of the society at large. The basic concept of caste endogamy observed by all caste groups does not allow cross-caste associations. In many such marriages it is indeed the family that takes the lead in dealing with such associations, but it still does not rule out the intervention of the caste panchayat. In cases where dalits are involved the panchayat sits on judgement not only on the erring couple and on the allegedly acquiescent dalit family but also significantly on the entire dalit community located in the village. This is where the exaggerated charge of ‘rising dalits’ acts as the ideological and political stratagem of the dominant caste group, which Dipanker Gupta has spoken about in relation to western Uttar Pradesh.Footnote ⁸³ That is the reason why the dalits and no other caste group are known to have faced such a violent retribution. Only the individual members or their immediate family or families, and not an entire caste group, have been at the receiving end of the traditional panchayat's decision. This differential treatment corroborates the weapon-like use of such cases in relation to the dalits to settle wider issues at stake.

Any move against the dalits sees the dominant caste, although severely divided into factions and interest groups, throw their might behind the traditional panchayat. In cases such as these, they cannot afford to split. It suits them to close their own ranks. Indeed, the two issues around which mobilisation of the dominant castes, regardless of all factions, class and age divides, gets easily effected in rural Haryana is that of ‘women’ and ‘cow slaughter’, as seen in the recent Dulina case of October 2002.Footnote ⁸⁴ A show of solidarity serves the dominant caste groups in twofold ways: (a) It helps them to present a united caste–biradari front despite their political and party differences. Such a front comes handy in demanding political and economic concessions from the state. (b) It helps them in establishing their might in the village against other caste groups, especially the lower castes, reaffirming the existing hierarchy and caste/community domination. In cases where violence is resorted to implement the panchayat's decision, an even more effective weapon is placed in their hands. The desire to drive home their domination and strength is an interest that is amply shared by other members of dominant caste groups. Such an ‘exploitation’ makes the inter-caste marriages where lower caste groups are involved far more complicated and conflict ridden.