Abstract
The study of masculinities in India has largely been confined to the analysis and understanding of the upper caste hegemonic masculinity and complicit masculinity, with respect to emphasised femininity. The issue of Dalit masculinities has been subsumed in the larger discourse of South Asian masculinity. The present study intends to address this gap by delving into the nuances of Dalit masculinities through a detailed analysis of Aravind Mālagatti’s Government Brahmana and Baby Kamble’s The Prisons We Broke. The study would employ the categories of masculinities enunciated by Connell, while using a post-structuralist lens to question their absoluteness. In the process, the study would challenge the monolith of masculinity in general and Dalit masculinity in particular, which instead of being rigid and irrevocable has a plural and fluid identity.
The gender metaphysics in the Indian subcontinent has been largely feminist. Men, the more privileged group, have looked like a superfluous category to be theorised upon, and the focus instead has remained largely on the more vulnerable category of women. And this overt and urgent concern with feminism has produced only a negligible scholarship on men and masculinities, which has reduced to a trifling when it concerns the men from the margins. There have been a handful of studies dealing with masculinities in the South Asian context. Books by Nandy (1989), Krishnaswamy (1998) and Sinha (2017) explore the modalities of colonial hegemonic masculinity that was closely connected to perpetuating the colonial rule in India by painting the Indian male as effeminate and emotional, and hence required to be ruled by a more manly and rational race. Banerjee (2012) and Chakraborty (2011) connect this colonial hegemonic masculinity with the dawn of an aggressive upper caste masculinity by evoking the images of the muscular Hindu. There are other books that talk about the performative masculinity in the subcontinent; Chopra et al. (2004) addresses the question of South Asian masculinities by exploring the varied masculinities prevalent in the subcontinent by drawing upon a wide array of academic disciplines like anthropology, literature, etc. They focus upon the myriad ways in which masculinities are acted out and also perceived. Chopra (2007) finds an astonishing gap in the knowledge about Indian masculinities and intends to fulfill that gap. Osella and Osella (2006) collecting data and evidences over a period of 15 years shifts the focus specifically to the making of South Indian masculinities, specifically in a village of Kerala, where they feel the practices of consumption have marked out identities. Dasgupta and Gokulsing (2013) breaks the monolith of Indian masculinity by focusing on the plurality of Indian masculinities in a rapidly changing cultural context. Chakraborty (2014) studies the transformations in South Asian masculinity through historical crisis. While most of these books shift their gaze to the otherwise neglected category of the South Asian male and also the Indian male in the process, the studies subsume and appropriate the Dalit masculinities under the broader category of the Indian male or the South Asian male even though many of them recognise that the problematics of caste have a correlation between male and their practices of masculinity. The problem has been aptly described in Chopra et al. ‘We note with dismay, but a sense of inevitability the absence in this polarized picture of the Dalit man, certainly another of the modern South Asian nation’s Problematic “Others”’ (Chopra et al., 2004, p. 4).
There have been several anthropological works trying to fill the gap and provide a corrective to this gap in the knowledge of South Asian masculinities (Anandhi et al., 2002; Gupta, 2010; Jeffrey et al., 2004; Lakshmanan, 2004; Rogers, 2008; Still, 2017). Anandhi et al. throw light on the changing economic conditions, and the way they have affected the complex relations between caste, class and gender in South India leading to a subversion of the upper caste masculinity and the formation of a neo-hegemonic order of newly empowered Dalit male, while comparing it with the Afro-American masculinities. C. Lakshmanan in his article provides a critique to the study of Anandhi et al., stating that the study makes sweeping generalisations about Dalit masculinities while going overboard with the idea of a changed economy bringing about stark changes in the gender hierarchy that is otherwise dominated by the upper caste. Jeffrey and Jeffrey connect the problematics of caste, education and masculinity, in the Indian city of Bijnor located in the state of Uttar Pradesh, to see if education brings transformations in the status of men hailing from different castes. Still has depicted how the hunt for respectability for the Dalit community in South India has taken the form of domination of its women, an act that has been interpreted by them as being civilised and cultured. Gupta centers her study in North India, and displays the varied forms of masculinities that had been attributed to the Dalit male as suited the upper castes to consolidate their patriarchies and ward of any challenge that might arise from the Dalit male. Chakravarti (2018) in her book provides a history of the evolution of the Brahminical patriarchy, and establishes the presence of graded patriarchies (and the dual oppression of caste and patriarchy of Dalit women) where she formulates a hierarchy of patriarchy within the overarching structure of Brahminical patriarchy. This grading of patriarchies is however only a brief subsection in her book which makes a cursory reference to Dalit patriarchy. Rege (2014) in her seminal work warrants attention as she addresses the issue of caste welded to the complex question of gender. Using eight Dalit women’s autobiographies, Rege expostulates how the element of caste along with the fact of their being a woman made the process of othering complex for the Dalit women. The book theorises feminism within the framework of caste, and though avoids viewing the social position of Dalit women as homogenous, it does paint the Dalit patriarchy as a stable monolith. But none of the studies mentioned above address the complex dynamics of masculinities as a relative position functional within the larger structure of caste patriarchy. The present study would try to address this concern with a reference to Kamble (2009) and Mālagatti (2007). Most researches with regard to Dalit autobiographies have concerned themselves with Dalit feminism and Dalit patriarchy while keeping the problematic of caste intact.
Hegemonic Masculinity: Moving Beyond Dalit Patriarchy
The present study, however, would problematise Dalit patriarchy as a reductive category, and in the process, focus its attention on the more complex area of Dalit masculinities. Patriarchy has been increasingly critiqued for lacking the necessary tools to deal with a complex relationship between men and women. Whitehead (2002) in his seminal work delineates this problem when he states
patriarchy is not only reductionist, but, moreover, is unable to explain and analyse male dominations and its differentiations across multiple sites… Thus while patriarchy may usefully be deployed to describe the surface lived experiences (public and private), for many women the term speaks only to abstract structural dynamics and abstract theorizing divorced from the subtleties of gendered interaction. (Whitehead, 2002, p. 87)
The problem with patriarchy then as we gather is that it lacks the nuances to deal with the gender relations prevalent in the society. It denotes the male dominated society as a singularly functioning entity, a monolith, which has no ambiguities and differences embedded in it, and renders meaningless the women’s resistance against this male dominance in all spheres, be it the private or the public. Masculinity as a category challenges this abstraction in patriarchy, and brings into purview the concept of hegemonic masculinity. Hegemonic masculinity acts where patriarchy falls short, ‘it offers a nuanced account of the processes and relationalities of femininity-masculinity and male power while staying loyal to the notion of gender, and sexual ideology, and male dominance’ (Whitehead, 2002, p. 90). This balance of forces between the different gender groups while remaining loyal to the idea of a male hegemonic society, which recognises the plurality in masculinities and feminities, makes it imperative to move beyond the notion of a Dalit patriarchy, and incorporate Dalit masculinity in its folds. The theory of intersectionality has attacked the idea of a monolithic idea of gender in general, though the focus is not on monolithic patriarchy per se. The necessity to move beyond the idea of patriarchy is further justified by Whitehead as he opines,
despite having very close associations, hegemonic masculinity differs from patriarchy in that there is less of an essentialist assumption about the outcome or conditions under which this gender power play is experienced and enacted. For while the fundamental premise remains that male power is a hegemonic project embedded in ideological and material structures, there is space for ambiguity—and change. (Whitehead, 2002, p. 90)
It is this ambiguity that the article intends to explore by a detailed analysis of the Dalit autobiographies, The Prisons We Broke and Government Brahmana.
The study would draw upon the definitions provided by Connell and Messerschmidt (2005) in his paper ‘Masculinities,’ while challenging and reshaping them, where hegemonic masculinity was understood,
as a pattern of practice (i.e., things done, not just a set of role, expectations or an identity) that allowed men’s dominance over women to continue … hegemonic masculinity was not assumed to be normal … but it was certainly normative. It embodied the currently most honored way of being a man, it required all other men to position themselves in relation to it, and it ideologically legitimated the global subordination of women to men. (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 832)
Though practiced by a limited group of men, it was this group which set the norm for honourable masculine practices. Hegemonic masculinity is in practice akin to patriarchy. Complicit Masculinity comprising ‘Men who received the benefits of patriarchy without enacting a strong version of masculine dominance could be regarded as showing a complicit masculinity’ (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 832). This group tries to act out the most culturally accepted ways of being a man. And further lies another set of practices in men, the subordinate masculinities and the marginalised masculinities. These practices of masculinities are essential as they signal the subordinated and marginalised position with respect to hegemonic masculinity.
Subordination refers to the relations internal to the gender order, the concept of marginalization describes the relationships between the masculinities in dominant and subordinated classes, or ethnic groups, that is, the relations that result from the interplay of gender with other structures, such as class and ethnicity. (Demetriou, 2001, p. 342)
Marginalised masculinities try to depict those men who are at the margins of social, economic and cultural opportunities. ‘Marginalized masculinities are those of subordinated classes or racial/ethnic groups’ (Schippers, 2007, p. 88). So even though the marginalised men in the version of manhood they enact, try to emulate the practices of hegemonic masculinity, they might be marginalised because of their social, economic and cultural position. Masculinity, however, is not a homogeneous bloc of identity and these categories would be, however, used with caution, as the study would not use them as absolute categories. It has internal differences that tries to capture the internal fractures and fissures within the umbrella term of masculinity. Connell rightly cautions that these are not fixed and unwavering identities, they are subject to change. He states,
Masculinity is not a fixed identity embedded in a body or personality traits of individuals. Masculinities are configurations of practice that are accomplished in social action, and therefore can differ according to gender relations in a particular social setting… Masculinities are not about men. They are concerned with the position of men in a gender order. (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 832)
There is ‘possibility of change in gender relations, on the idea that a dominant pattern of masculinity was open to challenge—from women’s resistance to patriarchy, and from men as bearers of alternative masculinities’ (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 846). However, the study while doing so would in no manner denounce the existence of Caste Patriarchy as will be evident in the excerpts of the autobiographies below. The overarching dominant structures of patriarchy is the bedrock of the concept of hegemonic masculinity and Connell enunciates this point by talking of the ‘global dominance of men over women,’ something that the study would continuously fall back upon.
Post-structuralist Approaches to Masculinities
The study would reconstruct these dominant ideas on masculinities using the post-structuralist approach as a lens to view the categories of masculinities enunciated by Connell. Post-structuralism is significant as Reeser states in his book, ‘With Post-Structuralism, one tends to look behind the signs that one sees in order to find meaning that might not seem immediately apparent or might not seem to correspond to the visible sign’ (Reeser, 2011, p. 11). The post-structuralist approach destroys and disintegrates the stable signs, images and discussions that are associated with gender roles, be it male or female, and challenges the notion of the idea of gender that pervades the society as smooth and seamless. What it then intends to do, is to excavate/uncover the gender ontology. What the study would do is establish that the categories of masculinities are not fixed and unchallengeable, rather the masculine identities are associated with numerous other identities. But the study also acknowledges the existence of a hegemonic upper caste masculinity where all other gender relations in the hierarchy of gender are contingent on it. The study would then focus upon what Reeser says, ‘Masculinity … is dependent on the very others that are defined as different from it’ and also upon the ‘Relations between masculinity and its others, or relations among different types of masculinities’ (Reeser, 2011, p. 11). The Dalit male would otherwise occupy the marginalised position with respect to the upper caste hegemonic male, (the Dalit male cannot subvert the upper caste hegemony, and remains in a subservient position with respect to it), but the article would read Dalit masculinities in relation to the other gender groups, of varied castes and classes. The study would challenge the absolute categorisations of masculinity rendering it fluid and unstable, that transforms with respect to the groups the Dalit man interacts with. In the process, the manner in which Dalit masculinities manifest itself with respect to the upper caste masculinities and Dalit femininities would be interrogated/highlighted. The study would also challenge the absolute categorisation or the essential view regarding Dalit masculinities that (leaves out the fluidity that is involved in the process) informs the dominant impression about Dalit masculinities where ‘the most hegemonic of male subjects can take on certain aspects of subordinate masculinities’ (Reeser, 2011, p. 5) and likewise the opposite can also happen. While deconstructing the position of men in the gender order, the article would also try and highlight the manner in which the fluidity in the gender process causes the hegemonic position of the dominant males to be constantly under threat, and the measures and steps the hegemonic males need to continuously take in order to solidify their position in the gender hierarchy. The dominant male needs to continuously perform his masculinity to maintain his hegemonic status. The article would look into the construction of masculinities in conditions that are normal, natural and ordinary, and point to the practices of masculinities in the varying social conditions that incorporates the differences in caste, class and gender relations.
The language constructed reality becomes a basis for theorists like Judith Butler who questions the stable category of women that subsumes the differences of class, sex and other categories. She claims that ‘if there is something right in Beauvoir’s claim that one is not born, but rather becomes a woman, it follows that woman itself is a term in process, a becoming, a constructing that cannot rightfully be said to originate or to end’ (Butler, 2011, p. 45). The labelling of the category of woman as a process of becoming is something that has serious ramifications and significant implications for masculinities as well. It can therefore be safely posited that there are no fixed definitions of the ideas of masculinity, as it widely varies across cultures, civilizations and over time. The article would look into the construction of masculinities in conditions that are beyond the normal, natural and ordinary while pointing to the practices of masculinities in the varying social conditions that incorporates the differences in caste, class and fluid gender relations. While taking into consideration the fluidity of the concept of gender, the study would ‘admit ambiguously gendered bodies into functional social relations’ (Halberstam, 2019, p. 15). The article while challenging the absolute categories of masculinities, where masculinities are only concerned with men, would extend and apply the category of masculinities to women as well, and break the otherwise frozen bonds between men’s body and masculinities, and thereby question and explore the aspect of masculinities in Dalit women also. Masculinities would be explored as characteristics that are generally associated with men; qualities like arrogance, pride, that can also be reflected in women. The concept of ‘Hegemonic Femininity’ would be used for the purpose. Hegemonic Femininity is defined as,
positions of female dominance, at least with respect to other women and girls, but would not be tied to female bodies. This account of hegemonic femininity would be related to a revised theorisation of hegemonic masculinity, which, while giving us a way of understanding the dominance of some males over others, and over females, would not assume that masculinity is always attached to male bodies. (Paechter, 2018, np)
The study would then forward the argument that masculinities do not have a coherent identity in itself, rather it is dependent upon, and derive its meaning from the incoherencies that surround it. The male body as a site of the build-up/construction of masculinities is being challenged by the study. However, though the characteristics of masculinity can be associated with women as well, it has to be borne in mind that female masculinities can never gain hegemony over the hegemonic male. Though the equation of class, and in India, the caste question renders the position of the Dalit male in the gender hierarchy complex, yet the hegemonic male (or here the upper caste male) as the fountainhead of patriarchy is structurally yet unchallenged. Masculinities are formed by discourses, and these discourses permeate and shape the manner in which Dalit masculinities (here I mean both male and female masculinity) interact with the other masculinities and gender relations in the society.
Redefining Masculinities in Baby Kamble’s The Prisons We Broke
The construction of Dalit masculinities may be derivative of different relational forces, among them the forces of caste, class and gender are significant. The Prisons We Broke, by the Marathi Dalit Writer Baby Kamble, depicts relative masculinities or mobile masculinities at times in definite terms, and other times through subtle hints and references. Kamble’s portrayal easily shows how the Dalit masculinities rather than being a fixed is a mobile masculinity that veers between complicit masculinities and marginalised masculinities. In Kamble’s analysis, the Dalit masculinity is a part of the tripartite structure comprising the British colonial masculinity, the upper caste hegemonic masculinity and Dalit masculinity. The upper caste, land-holding male was easily culturally, socially and economically dominant. The colonial masculinity may have been an object of veneration, but the upper caste male was the head of the religious and caste hierarchy. Kamble paints a picture where the Dalit male drew inspiration from the upper caste male and even worshipped them to some extent. The equations between the upper caste male and the colonial male has been dealt with by many works, and the article would refrain from getting into the details of it and would instead focus on the relationship between the Dalit male and the Hindu upper caste male. The autobiography also details some exchanges between the Dalit male and the colonial male. The Dalit male is culturally, socially and economically marginalised with respect to the upper caste male and as such exhibits marginalised masculinity. But when it comes to the Dalit women, the Dalit male is a complicit male. He exhibits signs of a dominant upper caste man, and strictly adheres to the upper caste hegemonic values in order to subdue the Dalit women. Kamble describes an interaction of her father, with the colonial male, an engineer:
When the labourers saw the engineer, there was a great commotion amongst them. My father approached the engineer with his notebook, which contained the record of the fifty-rupee contract he had undertaken to dig the canal. The sahib stared at my father with great curiosity. My father was a mere boy of sixteen or seventeen years—hardly four and a half feet tall, his thin body barely covered by a torn and patched shirt, a torn dhoti mended in innumerable places, and a turban which looked no better than a bundle of rags on his head. He must have presented a very unusual sight to the sahib. In those times, a white sahib always carried a cane in his hand. This sahib was no exception. The sight of this strange looking creature must have tickled his sense of humour. He raised his cane and flicked off my father’s turban. (Kamble, 2009, p. 4)
The detailing of the exchange between the Kamble’s father and the white sahib is a typical relationship of veneration and reverence. The Dalit man here is subordinate to the colonial male in the hierarchy of masculinity, and he seems to have no problem in accepting it. In comparison, his attitude towards her mother seems to be in stark contrast: ‘My father had locked up my aai in his house, like a bird in a cage’. And then again, she writes,
In those days, it was the custom to keep women at home, behind the threshold. The honour enjoyed by the family was in direct proportion to the restrictions imposed on the women of the house. When no one could even see a nail of the woman thus confined within the house, then this honour became the talk of the town. (ibid., p. 5)
The above passage demonstrates how the Dalit man claimed his manhood. While manhood was denied to him by the colonial male, for whom he was a just a boy (16 or 17 years old), with respect to the Dalit woman, he is the omnipotent male, who has to command the house and the women of the house. The ideas of hegemonic masculinity are being complied with when they are subjugating the women of the house. In following the key practice of hegemonic masculinity, that is ‘the pattern of practice that allowed men’s dominance over women to continue,’ the Dalit male was practicing complicit masculinity. Kamble herself had to comply with the rigid functioning of hegemonic masculinity. She states in an interview given to Maya Pandit, ‘He (her husband) was a good man but like all the men of his time and generation, he considered a woman to be an inferior being’ (ibid, p. 147). She elaborates on this problem further as she describes in the interview, ‘In those days, men always wanted to control women. It was quite common for a husband to beat his wife because he doubted her faithfulness. And I wasn’t an exception’ (ibid, p. 154). Very vividly, she describes how hegemony in males was not limited to a particular class of people, as it transcends the boundaries of class, caste and race as she relates that there was a hegemonic male in every Dalit man or in fact every man when she states,
In fact this was the life most women led. Every woman knew it by heart. Every woman tried to negotiate her way out of these hardships. Giving up one’s husband and marrying another wouldn’t solve the problem because the ‘husbandness’ would be the same in every man. (ibid, p. 155).
As she states this, she pinpoints the hegemonic values that every man possesses. Instead of it being a fixed entity, the characteristics of the hegemonic male was in every man, but its manifestation varied with respect to the gender group, the male was interacting with.
Religion served as the biggest source of reversal and subversion of this accepted notion of the hegemonic Dalit male with respect to the Dalit woman, when the women turns into goddesses, a hegemonic reversal that could also be pictured in the religious practices of the upper caste. The woman is worshipped as a goddess, and the hegemonic/patriarchal balance is upended during those special occasions. Kamble mentions one such occasion when the otherwise dominated women of the Mahar society would feel an equal at the hands of, and also at times superior to the hegemonic Dalit male:
these possessed women were called goddesses or mothers… When one mother forecast a happy future, another burst into tears. Yet another harped on something quite different. She started with a strange humming sound… I’ve come a long way just to meet you… You haven’t treated me with reverence. You have to suffer for this. The threat generally struck terror in the leader’s heart. His mouth went dry. A frenzied activity then ensued. All the men folk took off their turbans and placed them at the mother’s feet in utter supplication. They begged her not to be angry with them. At other times, these men commanded great respect as the father-in-law or brother-in-law of the woman who was now possessed. But now, she was the mother goddess, and they, her children. They fell at her feet … at this point, the old men spread their turbans at her feet. (ibid, pp. 23–24)
The violent reactions that these women had makes the reader wonder if it was not a gimmick to be respected and have their due honour at the hands of the hegemonic male. The manner in which these possessed women would react on not being paid attention is also worthy of attention. Their behavior on being neglected speaks volumes on their desire to earn respect, and hence subvert the hegemonic relationship of domination/subordination in the society.
The unapologetic upper caste male hegemony had to ensure their dominance in every matter as even a small slip could mean that their hegemonic position was under threat or was being challenged. Kamble describes an incident where the failure to greet the upper caste man on the way to the village would draw his ire towards the lower caste people. The upper caste hegemonic male would view this as a challenge to the hegemony perpetrated by him. He would immediately scramble to take action to perpetuate his hegemony, and correct the wrong that can challenge his superiority and hegemony
When somebody from these castes (upper castes) walked from the opposite direction, the Mahars … had to say ‘the humble Mahar woman fall at your feet master’. Sometimes there would be a young newlywed girl in the group and she would fail to join the chant out of sheer ignorance or awkwardness … the master would simply explode in rage. He would march straight to the Mahar chawdi, summon all the Mahars there and kick up a big fuss. ‘Who just tell me, who the hell is that new girl? Doesn’t she know that she has to bow down to the master?… You Mahars are transgressing your limits. It is all this food that you get free of cost that has made you forget your place, isn’t it? But listen carefully. Next time, if anybody passes by me without bowing, you’ve had it! No mercy would be shown to you any longer. What do you take us for? Are we Mahars like you or do you take us for native children? Daring to pass by me without bowing! Think twice before doing such a thing again! (ibid, p. 52–53)
The insult would challenge the masculinity of the Dalit male, who then had to retrieve his masculinity by showering abuses on the daughter-in-law, an activity in which he would receive support from the Dalit female as well. The Dalit female here transcends her bodily branding of a woman and becomes an accomplice of the Dalit male while preforming the act of hegemonic femininity, whereby she subjugates the younger girl, ‘Everybody then vented their wrath on the poor young girl, the daughter-in-law, and took her to task. For her sasu this would be a fine opportunity to abuse her! The sasra also joined forces with his wife’ (ibid, p. 53).
The practice of hegemonic masculinity meant that women were inferior creatures in this entire process. Kamble describes, ‘Women are still slaves. And it is not just Dalit women. I see around me many women from both upper and lower castes. All women are facing problems’ (ibid, p. 154). However, even women were not a homogeneously suppressed community, the practice of hegemony among women were common. The upper caste hegemony was dominant not just in the case of hegemonic masculinity, but also in the case of hegemonic femininity. The upper caste female was oppressive towards the Dalit women, who were complicit in perpetuating the upper caste hegemony. The upper caste hegemony reaped benefits for the upper caste women who would go to any extent to protect the hegemony of the upper caste male. Chakravarti talks about the reproduction of Brahminical hegemony which ultimately benefits only the hegemonic male when she states, ‘(T)he caste system and brahminical patriarchy work to the advantage of a very few men at the top of the order, thus all others who are complicit in this system only facilitate its reproduction’ (Chakravarti, 2018, p. 34). Kamble portrays this complicity of the upper caste female as she describes a particular episode:
The tired and dusty Mahar women … came to the Brahmin lane. All their firewood would be sold in this lane. Every house in the lane had a chest high platform, like a wall, to prohibit the Mahars from directly reaching the door. The Mahar women would stand in the far off corners and shout ‘Kaki, firewood! The Mahar women are here with firewood. The kaki would be sitting on the swing; slowly she would stop swinging and get down at a leisurely pace to bargain with them … finally, the kaki would throw from above, to avoid any contact, a couple of coins on each palm’. (ibid, pp. 54–56)
Kamble’s recounting of the ordeal that the Dalit girls faced at the hands of the upper caste girls, when they were enrolled in schools also serve as instances of hegemonic femininity.
The struggle for retrieving masculinity began generally with education. Kamble in the autobiography iterates how the Dalit families started taking interest in the education of their children. Education opened the doors for better jobs, and better jobs meant that the emasculated race with respect to the upper caste hegemony would move from emasculation to masculinity. This would reduce their dependence on the caste roles, which was their primary source of sustenance, and hence improve their status in the hierarchy of men. What Susmita Roye uses to describe the justification of the lording of the ‘hyper-masculine colonial man’ over the ‘effeminate colonized’ can also be used to describe the hegemony of the upper caste male over the lower caste. The Dalit male
is devoid of sufficient courage, a challenging attitude or an iron zeal, and is thus incapable of upholding values like achievements, competition, control, sportsmanship, efficacy and service, he is deemed incapable of controlling others or protecting his own possessions. Consequently, he needs to be ruled over. (Roye, 2013, p. 67)
Kamble describes many incidents in the autobiography where the urge of this control is challenged by the Dalit marginalised male, and there is a huge clamour to upend this upper caste hegemony mounted on them. Kamble opines: ‘Young activists, under the influence of Babasaheb’s ideas, started enrolling their children in schools en masse’ (Kamble, 2009, p. 106). The Dalit male started controlling his life, demanding the rights which were thenceforth denied to them like entering temples, being in active politics and demanding their right to education. In fact, the struggle initiated and carried on by Bhimrao Ambedkar was a significant step in the journey of the Dalit men to challenge the hegemonic upper caste masculinity.
The relation of the Dalit women to the hegemonic Dalit male also underwent certain changes, even though minute, with education. The Dalit women were no longer subservient souls who served as the sites of the recovery of the hurt masculinity of the Dalit male. Though Kamble never mentions it clearly, but the kind of enthusiasm with which she depicts the participation of the Dalit women in the Dalit freedom struggle, where ‘half of the people in the movement were women,’ can help us safely assume that the Dalit male hegemony was also under challenge, though not completely defeated.
The hegemonic femininity was also under threat as the upper caste women found strong resistance from the lower caste women. Kamble in depicting this change relates,
I remember a very interesting episode. This must have been my second meeting. The meeting was organized in the dining hall. All the Brahmin and Maratha women had occupied the chairs. They would not allow the Mahar women to sit on the chairs. Helpless, our women stood on one side. At the same time, the rani sahib started to move towards the stage, accompanied by her other followers … our Thakubai rushed forward. She shook the rani by her shoulder and told her, ‘your women are not allowing our women to sit on the chairs. Our Ambedkar has told us to demand our rights. I am going to forcefully remove your women from the chairs and seat my women there’. The rani sahib was taken aback for a moment. But she immediately arranged chairs in front for all of us. (ibid, p. 133)
Deciphering Masculinities in Aravind Mlagatti’s Government Brahmana
The autobiography, Government Brahmana, by Aravind Mālagatti, embodies a different perspective as it depicts the Dalit masculinity from the perspective of a male author. Mālagatti depicts very strong female Dalit characters in his novel who would not submit meekly to the upper caste hegemonic masculinity or the upper caste hegemonic femininity. His aayi (grandmother) who emerges as the strongest female character of his family, his avva (mother), chikamma (aunt, mother’s younger sister) and dodamma (aunt, mother’s elder sister) are all fierce women who do not submit themselves meekly to the insult, abuse and hierarchy of the upper caste. These women characters may have been stronger than the male members of his home. So, Mālagatti’s autobiography abounds in descriptions where the women of his home upset, in their little ways, the rigid cultural balance perpetrated by the upper caste hegemonic masculinity, though the caste patriarchy/hegemonic masculinity was not defeated in the face the brave resistance put by the women of Mālagatti’s family. In the first chapter itself, Mālagatti describes his aayi as a strong, and intelligent woman, who had invented numerous tricks to keep her family together and look after her grandchildren. During a feast, his aayi was able to hide and take home some extra food under the watchful eyes of the Veershaiva servants of the home, who were above them in the caste hierarchy. And he cites several other occasions when she is able to challenge the hegemonic upper caste masculinity and get done what she desired. Through such incidents revolving around the character of his aayi, Mālagatti provides the reader with ample proof that masculinity cannot be tied down to the male body. Mālagatti’s aayi transcends the barrier of hegemony that rules the society where relative to the situation, the upper caste male, the upper caste female and the Dalit male dominates.
Mālagatti highlights another incident when the question of the use of the common resources of the village came up, and his mother and aunt would be at the mercy of the upper caste women. Mālagatti narrates an incident when his mother and aunt accompanied by the other Dalit women of the lane would go to the village pond and would be at the receiving end of abuse at the hands of the upper caste women. ‘On seeing us they would look as though they had seen a snake; they would turn their faces in disgust and speak with contempt’ (Mālagatti, 2007, p. 28). The situation would then escalate, and Mālagatti relates ‘My avva, chikamma and doddamma were no docile dolls! They too were fighters with self-respect, waiting for a spark to catch fire. There was not a single day when they returned from the lake without a fight’ (ibid, p. 29). However, the one person who very strongly upended the hegemonic femininity was his aayi as Mālagatti again recounts,
But when the fight reached its peak, I would jump to my feet, prance around like a horse and wail. Sometimes, the minute I had my avva’s permission, I would fetch my aayi. Do you remember in an earlier context I had mentioned hoe famous my aayi was? (ibid, p. 29)
Marriage becomes a symbolic marker of masculinity. When a marriage takes place between the higher caste and the lower caste, the hegemonic upper caste male feels emasculated. In such a scenario, the society which is governed by the rules framed by the upper caste would go to any extent to prevent such marriages from taking place. Chakravarti sums up the situation as ‘the recalcitrance of women, the established property and status order, sought to be established and then consolidated by the repeated invocation of the need for the lower castes and women to conform to the Brahminical injuctions, can be subverted’ (Chakravarti, 2018, p. 64). So, the prevention of these marriages would serve to preserve the honour and the hegemonic position of the upper caste male and keep the Brahminical patriarchy intact by upholding caste purity. The upper castes on the other hand had no such bindings on them. The case of the sambandham or non-marital relations of the Nair women and Namboodiri men is a strong case in point. Only the hegemonic male had the prerogative of breaking the caste purity, and these are in harmony with the power of the upper castes over the lower castes, and the control of men over women. The upper caste male hegemony triumphed in all situations.
Mālagatti cites two instances from his autobiography when an inter-caste marriage failed and helped maintain the status quo, or the hegemony of the upper caste. In the first instance, Mālagatti describes his love affair with a woman of a higher caste, who initially showed great resolve in her love towards him, but later retracted her position and got married to a man from the same caste. The fear of retaliation that she would have to face, both physical and mental, from the upper caste hegemonic male, in this case from her father, prevents her from getting married to the man in question. Mālagatti specifically states that in one of her letters she writes, ‘My father is a short-tempered man, he has a gun’ (ibid, p. 76). And the invisible social pressure of the hegemonic upper caste male dominated society is expressed as she writes, ‘I have a sister. Shall I live for my sake or for the sake of my family’ (ibid, p. 76)? Another instance he mentions is that of a love affair he has witnessed between an upper caste girl and a lower caste boy, which destroyed the life and career of the Dalit boy. Mālagatti describes one particular incident: ‘When he was near the illuminated gate of the botanical garden, all of a sudden four to five people who were hiding behind the gate jumped on him and gave him a sound beating’ (ibid, p. 86). Mālagatti later explains that the boy in question was his roommate and he had a love affair with the daughter of a Professor of the University who belonged to the upper caste. ‘The girl he was in love with was a Professor’s daughter. She was his classmate’ (ibid, p. 88). There are obvious hints given by Mālagatti that the goons might have been hired by the Professor to teach the boy a lesson:
he would stand infront of the Professor’s gate. Some cited this as the reason for him getting beaten up. Some others said that another person who loved the same girl had hired some people to beat him up. A few others also said that the girl’s father, the professor himself, had sent these people. (ibid, pp. 88–89)
The upper caste hegemonic male resorts to physical violence as a means to force the marginalised men to acceptance of hegemony of the upper caste. The prevention of marriage acts as a signal to maintain the cultural code of the hegemony of the upper caste, which has for centuries been agreed upon.
Education was seen as a harbinger of equality, or at least a strong force to contend with by the hegemonic upper caste males. Education was viewed as a means to get rid of the caste taboo for the Dalits, and to challenge the hierarchy of masculinity that the Dalit males belong to. In fact, even the upper caste progressive people who preached liberal thoughts could not bear to upset the balance of hierarchy in the society, and would not let themselves and the Dalit males forget that the hegemonic males still belonged to the upper caste, and despite all the progress that the society makes and the education that the Dalit attains, the hegemonic position would be occupied by the upper caste males, and the Dalit males would occupy the marginalised position despite improving their material conditions. Mālagatti mentions two particular instances, and both involving friends who hailed from a liberal school of thought, that based itself in the equality of human beings, overlooking the differences of caste, class and race, and still could not restrain themselves from talking about Mālagatti’s caste:
It was not a palace! But the residence of the Marxist friend was not as threadbare as the khadi he wore. Many friends were sitting on the sofa. An exciting game of cricket was flashing on the television screen … he started chatting with me. ‘I don’t believe in caste discrimination, Many harijans come home, have tea and food. Listening to these words, I lost my poise and my face dropped like a burnt brinjal. (ibid, p. 97)
The urban public spaces not unlike Kamble’s rural public spaces did not allow the educated Dalits to assert their masculinity. The Dalit male, how much ever, he educated himself could not break the hierarchy and be a part of the hegemonic male. As if echoing this very feeling, Mālagatti relates, ‘even though we Dalits receive good education and financial facilities, the ghost of caste does not stop haunting our inner psyche’ (ibid, p. 98). Even though the concern of some liberal minded people may be genuine, the received hierarchy of society is so deeply embedded in them, that they cannot break and challenge the hegemonic forces, and consciously or unconsciously they do not allow the marginalised Dalit male to be a participant of the hegemonic upper caste masculinity. The Dalit male remains with respect to the hegemonic upper caste, a marginalised male.
Resisting the Hegemony: A Long Way to Go
The article in dealing with Kamble’s and Mālagatti’s autobiographies acknowledges the presence of Dalit patriarchy (Anandhi et al., 2002; Chakravarti, 2018; Gupta, 2010; Jeffrey et al., 2004; Lakshmanan, 2004; Rege, 2014; Rogers, 2008; Still, 2017), while challenging the monolithic depiction of Dalit patriarchy in these works. Kamble’s and Mālagatti’s autobiography deal with the concept of masculinities in different ways. While the upper caste male hegemony and the Dalit hegemony (with respect to the Dalit women) are more pronounced in Kamble’s autobiography. Mālagatti’s autobiography though gives a vivid description of the upper caste male hegemonic rule, there are very few instances depicted that relate about the hegemonic Dalit male. The overlapping or mutual imbrication of caste and masculinity is a recurrent feature of upper caste practices of masculinity, as is depicted through an analysis of both the autobiographies. While the upper caste man denotes the Dalit man as effeminate, the Dalit man recovers his masculinity in acquiring the dominant position in relation to the Dalit woman, by verbal and if necessary, physical abuse. The Dalit male, in both the autobiographies, is marginalised with respect to the dominant upper caste hegemonic male. And it is with respect to the Dalit women that he can recover his torn and tattered masculinity. The upper caste women recover their hegemonic position with respect to the Dalit women, who assert their hegemony with respect to the younger women in their families, mostly their daughters-in-law. The image of the effeminate Dalit man, created by the hegemonic upper caste male, is contradicted by the image of the weather-hardened body of the Dalit man, again a creation of the upper caste male, which is seen as virile and strong, that needs to be controlled by the rational and poised hegemonic upper caste male. The upper caste male occupying the hegemonic position is in awe of this virile marginalised Dalit man and is aware that his position is constantly under threat as the marginalised male and subordinate male intend to overturn their hierarchical position. Education is one domain where the marginalised male can put up a resistance to the hegemony of the upper caste male. Kamble very optimistically announces in her autobiography that education can serve to bring about a change, and break the hegemony of the upper caste. The hegemonic upper caste male conscious of the fact, in order to maintain their position in the hierarchy of men, comes up with weapons like derogatory remarks that attacks the affirmative action policies meant to abet the desire of education among the Dalits. And while doing so, the upper caste male can challenge the education of the Dalit male, render it undeserving and unequal, and thereby solidify their position in the hierarchy of men. Education in such a scenario cannot definitely serve as the emancipator of the marginalised position of the Dalits. Government Brahmana, the title of Mālagatti’s autobiography, speaks volumes on the prejudices that the upper caste harbour and spread in order to contain the threat that the rise of the marginalised male, in this case the Dalit male, poses to the established hegemonic order. Representative Dalit masculinities then veers between coming-of-age sexuality and the virile men. Both the autobiographies depict that the Dalit male does not exhibit a singular masculine identity. His identity is not a monolith as it constantly keeps moving between the hegemonic and the marginalised depending on the gender group he is interacting with. The qualities of masculinities, further, can also be located in the bodies of women, as the character of aayi in Mālagatti’s autobiography, challenging the overall association of masculinities with men. The study while upholding the relative positioning of groups in gender hierarchy which are open to challenges and changes, as foregrounded by Connell and Messerschmidt (2005), Reeser (2011) maintains that this relativity occurs within the ambit of the upper caste patriarchy What the study maintains inspite of the portrayal of the multiple modalities of masculinities is that even though the hegemonic position of the upper caste is full of contradiction and ambivalences, yet the covert and at times overt measures employed by the upper castes mean that they suppress such challenges, and crystallise their position at the top of the hierarchy while positioning themselves as the emblematic figures of normative masculine behaviour.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
