‘Dalits are in India,not in Pakistan’: Exploring the Discursive Bases of the Denial of Dalitness under the Ashrafia Hegemony

Introduction

In this paper, I specifically discuss the tendency of Sindhi civil society and the Dalits to Ashrafise, that is, to associate with the Sayeds and their Ashrafia class associates (see Buehler, 2012; Belle et al., Kazuo, 2004), as it manifests in the form of the reverence shown by them towards the Sayeds, the caste usually considered in Sindh as having the most superior pedigree. The purpose is to understand the nature of ‘cognitive dissonance’ ( Festinger, 1962), that exists between the existing Dalitness, the condition of being oppressed (see Guru, 2012; Paswan & Jaideva, 2003), and the denial of it under the influence of Ashrafia hegemony. The analysis is based on the vernacular literature, online media content and the ethnographic insights that I had between January 2016 to July 2018 in Mirpurkhas and Hyderabad, the administrative divisions that make up the Dalit belt in Sindh (see in Hussain, 2019). This was the period during which Dalit activists generated the debate in social and print media on the suitability of different identity markers and the ways of Dalit emancipation. I, as a native researcher, from the privileged caste background, was part of that debate and contestation. Following the theoretical sampling ( Davoudi et al., 2016; Fugard & Potts, 2015), the important conversations and interviews (about 69) were also systematically analyzed to infer the level of casteism (Sayedism and Dalit exclusion) prevalent among political activists who belonged mainly to Baloch, Sammat, Sayed and Jati Hindu castes, and with the Dalit activists belonging to Kolhi, Bheel and Meghwar castes that formed the demographic majority Dalit communities in Sindh (see also Hussain, 2019).

Before discussing the ethnographic insights and the qualitative data analysis on Sayedism and Dalitness, I will give a brief description of the local use of the ‘Sayed’, ‘Shah’, ‘Pir’ and ‘Dalit’ identity markers, and the historical bases of Sayed-parasti (Sayedism), that regulate the complex of identities that define the ‘self’ of a person (Jenkins, 2010; Meijl, 2008) in a socially hierarchized and the deeply identitarian Sindhi society.

Contextualising Identity Markers

Dalits were found to deny being ‘Dalits’ and or the oppressed. They avoided to use ‘Scheduled Castes’ and ‘Dalit’ identity markers to talk about ‘untouchability’. Hence, while the ‘Dalit’(Marathi term that literally means ‘oppressed’), itself was the subject of controversy and contestation between the anti-caste activists and anti-Dalits, I chose to follow the categorical logic of a group of local anti-caste activists and the Dalitbahujan scholars particularly Gopal Guru (1998) and Kancha Ilaiah (2002) ¹ and Vivek Kumar (2005) to refer to the ‘Scheduled Castes’, the official term used for 40 castes listed in the Scheduled Castes Ordinance of 1957 of the Government of Pakistan.

According to Gopal Guru (1998), ‘Dalit identity is historically arrived at, sociologically presented and discursively constituted’. For him, Dalit is a person who believes in the universal values of dignity, mutual recognition and more importantly in justice and friendship, and an Ambedkarite is the person who, taking lead from the ideology of B.R. Ambedkar, consistently stands with the Dalits in their struggle ² . It is in this emancipatory sense that I use the terms ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes that categories that were emic in the context of the local Dalit activists as they applied the ‘Dalit’ both as an overarching plastic category to include as many oppressed communities as possible ³ , and also as the ethnically exclusive category parallel to their favorite identity markers such as ‘Darawars’. Hence, with the understanding that the meaning of these terms is arbitrary and temporal and, therefore, is contingent, to a greater extent, on the local social, religious, economic and political context, the use of the term ‘Dalit’ here becomes etic too as l extended it to analyze their identitarian contestation.

During the fieldwork, I observed that the Dalits were reluctant to question the Ashrafia classes’ perception of them as the ‘untouchables’ or the inferiors. Instead of questioning the Ashrafia hegemony, they were found to revere Sayeds. But that denial and the reverence did not seem to correspond with the Ashrafia-Savarna imaginary that saw them as inferior to them. Dalit’s tendency to Ashrafise, to adopt Ashrafia values, to accept their terms and conditions of existence and to imagine from the Ashrafia lens rather confirmed that they considered themselves inferior to Ashrafia classes. I argue that this denial has much to with Dalit’s tendency to ‘Ashrafise’, and also Savarnize ⁴ .

I define Savarnization in a little bit different sense of the meaning than implied by Sharmila Rege (1998), or from the Sanskritization, the term coined by MN Srinivas (1952). Rege used it to explain the “Savarnization of womanhood,” whereby she argued that it was a “classical exclusion” where all the women came to be looked at as “Savarna” (p.42). Similarly, M.N. Srinivas in 1952 coined the term ‘Sanskritization’ to explain the caste mobility whereby, ‘ A caste was able, in a generation or two, to rise to a higher position in the hierarchy by adopting vegetarianism and teetotalism, [. . .] and its ritual and pantheon, [. . .] the customs, rites, and beliefs of the Brahmins, and adoption of the Brahminic way of life” or that of the twice-born (Srinivas, 1952).

Dalitbahujan scholars and the activists, however, do not wholeheartedly buy Rege’s argument. The explanation of M.N. Srinivas gives an impression that the caste identities really change, and the Dalits become the ‘upper castes’. In this paper, I contend that despite the inherent flexibility of the ‘caste’ whereby Dalits tend to rise up the caste ladder, by adopting ‘upper caste’ names, by hiding their stigmatized caste names and the ‘untouchable’ past, or by associating with the Hindu Savarnas, they fail to rise to a higher position in the hierarchy and continue to be discriminated and excluded. I argue that this because the Ashrafia-Savarna perception does not change in fundamental ways, and that the relative socio-economic differential remains somewhat the same despite being Ashrafised (or Savarnised). Hence, instead of ‘Sanskritization’, I call it Savarnization, i.e., the (unsuccessful) tendency of the Dalits and the neo-Kshatriyas or the ex-Shudras to adopt Savarna caste names, and to identify with the Hindu (post) Vedic religion and the Savarna customs that does not necessarily bring about change of class and or the relative social status vis-à-vis Savarna classes. The same is true in case of Dalits emulating the Ashrafia classes. Hence, I make use of the Savarnisation and the Ashrafisation in the similar sense of the meaning as the parallel processes and the tendencies, that I, argue, did not seem to get the desired results for the Dalits.

Based on the post-Partition evidence of Ashrafia as it was legitimized by the ethnocentric form of political Sufism (see Hussain, 2019), in this paper, I further explore the pre-Partition consolidation of the Ashrafia ‘hegemony’ (Gramsci, 1971; Hussain, 2019) in Sindh ⁵ as it legitimized the syncretic Hindu, Muslim and Sufi practices to manufacture the widespread consensus over the marginality, and legitimize casteism and Sayedism. Sayedism is the social attitude of reverence of and for the Sayed caste(s) based on belief in their real or the fabricated genealogical superiority because of the linkage ⁶ with the Prophet Muhammad.

The Sayeds dominate under various sanctified identitarian glosses, such as ‘Pir’ and ‘Shah’. Both the Sayed and ‘Shah’ ⁷ are the colloquial terms in Sindhi borrowed from Arabic and the Persian languages respectively. Both the terms literally mean ‘honorable’, the titles of respect for the spiritual leaders. However, the epithet ‘Pir’ often used to refer to a spiritual leader of Muslims, but also of Hindus or any other faith. Yet there are some fundamental differences, particularly in case of ‘Sayed’. ‘Sayed’ in Sindh is commonly used to refer to a particular caste instead of a mere title or an epithet of respect. ‘Shah is used as the title by the Pirs (spiritual or religious leaders) of non-Sayed caste as well as by common individual belonging to Sayed caste. Hence, there are several Pirs in Sindh that are non-Sayeds but known as Shah. Yet, most of the local people mistake every Shah for Sayed, and do not go deep enough to dig out the actual caste of the person known as Shah because ‘Shah’ itself connoted a supplementary caste-based epithet usually appended to a person of Sayed Caste whether he or she be Pir or not. It was because of that, Shah (for Muslims) and Pir (for both Hindu and Muslim) figures serve as intermediary identity labels to ashrafise or create a deliberate confusion so that the non-Sayed Pir could be associated with Sayed caste.

The status of research in Pakistan on casteism, shows the lack of research on Sayed-parasti (hereby referred as Sayedism), Dalit exclusion, the syncretic nexus of the both, and on its peripherality in academia and in civil society. This lack of research, despite its widespread prevalence (see Ansari, 2009, 2016; Falahi, 2012; Hussain, 2019; Jodhka et al., 2010; Shah, 2007) is one of the indicators of the level to which the problem of casteism is denied, relativized and ignored. A few studies done in Sindh and Pakistan analyse political Sufism at the state level (see Ansari, 1992; Cheesman, 1997; Ewing, 1983; Levesque, 2016; Suleman, 2018; Verkaaik, 2004). Yet, these studies have not dealt with the casteist dimension of the problem what, from the Ambedkarian perspective, I see as Sayedism.

The Ambedkarian approach (see Ambedkar, 1944, 2014 (1991); Guru & Sarukai, 2012; Guru, 2011a; 2011b; Ilaiah, 2010) demands the explicit critique of such hegemonic conditions, practices and the narratives that either fail to confront casteism, and or (re)produce caste-based graded inequalities see also Hussain, 2019). With this ontological understanding, I investigate the cognitive aspects of the discursive practices that disallow to use ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’ categories, inculcate Sayedism and shape the self-perception of the Dalits to deny the persistent untouchable treatment (Dalitness) by the Ashrafia-Savarna classes. I argue that, since the desire to ashrafise does not materialize, and the untouchability against the Dalits also prevails, the expressions of the denial merely show the existing dissonance between the Dalit’s desire and the reality of Dalitness.

Counter-intuitiveness of the ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’ Identity Markers

There prevails mutual love, if a marrying woman and a man are from the same Verna as per the stars of the both. Otherwise, a man must always be from the upper Verna and a woman from a lower Verna. If the marrying woman is from the upper Verna, and a man is from lower Verna then there will not prevail love among them, and one of them is likely to die in her or his prime, or their children die a premature death, and thus, befall the curse on both of them.

Sundar Tipron (2018-19) by Santosh Kumar Leela Ram Khanwani, and published by Sundar Sheva Mandli, Sindh.

These sanctified guidelines serve the multiple purposes for the Dalits, that is, to ensure caste purity through caste endogamy, and to assign Dalits a Shudra (Hindu) identity and to normalize caste hierarchies based on the four-fold Verna system. These kinds of written codes, interpreted differently, surreptitiously hierarchize castes to assign the lowest order to Kolhi, Bheel, Meghwar etc. I read these lines in a ٽپڻون (Tipron), a booklet of Hindu astrology written in Sindhi, handed over to me by Ashok Guriro. Guriro Mahraj is the priestly caste traditionally assigned the task to solemnize the rites of passage of Dalit castes. Each Dalit caste has their own priestly caste, which is considered lower in status than the Mahraj (priests) of the Savarna castes. I met Ashok Guriro in a remote village in the frontier region of Nangarparkar, Sindh. I asked him to explain ‘Varan (Verna). He told that there are four Vernas (classes), namely, Brahmin, Khatri (Kshatriya), Vaish (Vaishiya) and Shudar (Sudras). He classified his Guriro zat (caste) as belonging to the Brahmin class, and his matrimonial Meghwar clients as belonging to Shudar castes. Unlike what many Hindu activists asserted that Verna classification is based on achieved occupational status, the Guriro Mahraj and the local Hindus to whom I met in the villages of Nangarparkar, defined Vernas and Jatis as hereditary ascriptions. Some of them maintained that the scriptures have been purposefully written as such to punish the Darawar castes. Others argued that the scriptures did not mean it, and that people misinterpret them. These different opinions marked the difference between the ‘layman Dalit’, the ‘Dalit activists’, the ‘layman Hindu’ and the ‘Hindu activist’. The layman Dalit did not necessarily assert Dalitness as did the Dalit activists. Similarly, the layman Hindu did not accept the idealized interpretation of Verna System whereby change of occupation was supposed to bring about change in one’s social status. Hence while the Hindu activists asserted that Verna can be changed, a layman Hindu or the Dalit denied that Verna does not change, and that caste is appended with it. The ground reality seemed to support the layman’s narrative, as far the local interpretation and the practice was concerned. Meghwar, Kolhi and Bheel seemed to be treated like a Shudra by the Savarnas and the Ashrafia class even if he were a teacher, a police officer, or merchant. In everyday discourse of the locals, the change of occupation was not conceived as the change in the status of the Jati (caste) and Verna (class). To fit into the Brahminic Verna hierarchy, the layman Dalits classified themselves as Shudar, the fourth class in order of respect. The caste activists within them tended to classify themselves as Khatri (Kshatriyas), the warrior tribes and the Darawars, the proud identity constructs that defied the Dalitbahujan logic to mount the anti-caste struggle by making use of the identity markers that may best highlight their oppression, such as the ‘Scheduled Castes and the‘Dalit’ identity.

We are not Dalits, we are Kolhi. Darawar are we. Parkar is our mulk (country). They are calling us Dalits. We do not accept it. Dalits are in India, not in Pakistan. Here all are qaums (castes) are equals.

Moolchand, a Parkari Kolhi

The use of the term ‘Dalit’ was taken as a personal assault, a humiliating remark in (Nagnar)parkar, a Talluka at the frontiers of Sindh where Moolchand Kolhi lived in a small village, and where I met with him in May 2016 at his guest house. Kolhis are the demographic majority in Nangarparkar Talluka of Tharparkar in Sindh, but in terms of socioeconomic wellbeing it is the most backward caste of the region. The backwardness, however, did not seem to hurt Kolhis much as they compensated by having pride in their demographic superiority and the warrior credentials. Yet the realization of the socioeconomic backwardness was also often undermined by their increasing belief in the Savarna-Ashrafia superiority over them. They seemed to accept their ‘lower caste and or the ‘untouchable’ as the normative given. This tendency contradicted their own casteist claim of being Kolhi Rajputs (Kshatriyas) as well. These contradictory opinions of the local Dalits based on the denial of Dalitness belied the social fact of the widespread caste-based discrimination and untouchability against them. Their reaction against the use of the ‘Dalit’ identity marker was understandable as there was no any ‘Dalit’ political party, and most of the Dalit activists, who supported the use of the ‘Dalit’ and Scheduled Castes’ were active in the small towns instead of in the remote villages. Hence, apart from the denial and the rejection of the ‘Dalit’ identity markers by the layman Dalit, it will be interesting to see how the Dalit activist’s attempted to negotiate these identity markers to raise the consciousness ⁸ among the Dalits to identify as ‘Dalits’ and or the ‘Scheduled Castes’ ⁹ , the sociopolitical identity markers considered politically important to mark their difference from the politically dominant Savarna castes, particularly against the Sodha Thakurs ¹⁰ , Brahmins, Vaniya, Deewan and or Lohano caste groups.

The Dalit activists of Dalit Sujaag Tehreek (DST, Scheduled Castes Federation of Pakistan (SCFP), Bheel Intellectual Forum (BIF), Scheduled Castes Federation of Pakistan and some of them from Pakistan People’s Party and Pakistan Tehrreek-i-Insaf (PTI), the ruling political parties believed that, if the Dalit rights and the issues were framed in an anti-Brahminic framework, it would be in line with the state narrative as well in line with the aspirations of the Dalitbahujans. For instance, a Dalit activist belonging to Pakistan Tehreek Insaf (PTI) also shared similar views. He said:

To identify as a دلت (Dalit)’ in Pakistan can also provide a strong diplomatic leverage to Pakistan vis-à-vis India, and as for the Dalits and pasmanda Muslims in India and Pakistan it will mean an international recognition of their oppressed status, and the condemnation of Hindutva.

This perception of the political leverage vis-à-vis Savarnas affords strategic strength to Dalit activists to push for Dalit rights in Pakistan. DST, BIF, SCFP, Pakistan Darawar Itehad and several other forums made deliberate use of the combination of identities, such as, شيڊيول ڪاسٽ (Scheduled Castes), دلت (Dalit), آدیواسی ‎, اصل ڌرتيءَ ڌڻي (Dharti Dhareen (sons of soil ¹¹ ) /Adivasi), دراوڙ (Darawar), طبقاپيڙهيل مظلوم ء ڌڪاريل (Oppressed classes/ Poor class, peasant, laborer, women/Human rights), (Bhil, Kolhi, Meghwar, Bhagri etc.), اقليت (Minority), هندو (Hindu) and سناتن دھرم (Sanatan Dharmi, Sindhi-Dalit, indigenous Sindhi, indigenous Pakistani identities to mark their difference from the Savarna-Ashrafia classes. Despite harboring highly overlapping ideological and strategic differences, the Dalit activists formed a kind of loosely coordinated network with members of the other Dalit groups that varied in their emphasis on different identity markers.

They made use of the ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’ identity markers selectively depending upon the specific opposite identity marker. For instance, while some Dalit activists interpret ‘Dalit’, ‘Adivasi’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’ in opposition to ‘Hindus’ and Jati Hindus’, others considered them as complementary or the parallel identity markers. These identity markers were further complemented by several other multiple regional, linguistic, ethnic identities such as Thari, Parkari, Darawar, Sindhi and Pakistani etc. Those who preferred to use the term ‘Dalit’ also appended different combinations of the above identities to construct the self or the group identity. Still others, particularly the Kolhi and Bheel communities of the Thar Desert region, preferred to use Adivasi (indigenous) or as alternative terms for both social and political purposes. Yet others social and non-governmental organisations (BIF, SCFP, PDSN ¹² ) preferred to use the official category, that is, ‘Scheduled Castes’ to demand political representation and job quotas. Hence, in everyday life at the level of the micropolitical discourse politics all above contesting identifications were used interchangeably by the Dalit activists. This complimentary use of identities, for instance, can be seen in the statement of a local Adivasi activist, Ranshal Kolhi. He narrated Adivasi oppression by using the ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’ identity markers in this manner:

Open history books on India. Adivasi tribes whom we call Dalits have always been ruled by Rajput and Brahmin. They are like lions for the oppressed tribes. But whenever Hindustan has been attacked by the foreign invaders, these Rajas never resisted. Instead gave away their daughter and sisters in marriage, made them their kith and kin. Resistance only came from Adivasi tribes. Even today upper class is ruling over Scheduled castes.

(Ranshal Kolhi, Personal Interview: January 16, 2016) ¹³

Politically charged Ranshal Kolhi combined different identities that were used by him and other Dalits to identify the self or the Dalit group to juxtapose them with that of the Savarna identity markers to make the point that they are different and the discriminated group. The Dalit identity markers converged the least with the Savarna-Ashrafia identity markers. For instance, while the Savarnas asserted themselves primarily as Sindhis or Sindhi Hindus, the Dalit activists tended to mark their difference from Savarna Hinduness by asserting their own version of Sanatan Dharam and the Darawar ethnic identity along with the regional Thari and the national Sindhi identity markers. Their Sanatan Dharam was projected as immune from Brahmanism and anti-Manusimriti. They were skeptic about the religious authority of Bhagwad Gita, Mahabharata and other Vedic and Post-Vedic religious scriptures. Contrary to it, they held very positive views about Buddhism and Islam as compared to the Savarnas, and the Savarnized Dalits. The layman-like Dalits, however, did not seem sensitized enough to assert Dalitness, and were less articulate about making such differentiation. Hence, the notions of the self and associated identities varied from one individual and caste group to another.

I contend that controversy over the use of the term ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes’, and the desire of the Dalits to be included into Hindu caste fold, such as in case of Moolchand Kohli’s denial of caste discrimination and his desire for caste parity, and the tendency to Savarnise has much to do with the prevailing ethnocentric forms of political Sufism that merge the Savarna and Ashrafia norms by means of the syncretic narrative based on interfaith harmony.

In the sections that follow, I will discuss this impact of political Sufism, particularly the Sayed-parasti (Sayedism), among the Dalits, that, I contend, is the consequence of the hegemonic Ashrafia structures that have been erected by the ruling elites over the centuries.

Historical bases of Sayed-dominated polity of Sindh

When it comes to religion, the majority of Scheduled Castes in Sindh identify themselves with the Hindu faith(s), but despite that, they revere Sayeds and Muslim Pirs. This, I argue has the history rooted in the political and the cultural patronage proffered to the Sayeds in Sindh. Brahmanism in the name of Sanatan Dharam ¹⁴ and Sayedism are fused with each other, not only to render the problem of casteism and Dalit exclusion irrelevant (See Hussain, 2019), but also to the denial of Dalitness.

The leading ideologue of Sindh G.M.Sayed, for instance, attempted to patronize Sayeds by, for instance, by inducting Sayed Pirs in Muslim League ¹⁵ during the Partition phase (Ansari, 1992, p.129). He played an instrumental role in the organization of Sayed-led conferences in villages and Sufi shrines such as Bukera Sharif, Jhok Sharif, Matiari, Hala and Shahpur Chakar (district Nawabshah) to acquaint ‘them with the League’s constructive programme’. ‘At these gatherings, pirs participated as organizers, presidents and opening speakers’ (Ansari, 1992, p.121). This preponderance of Sayeds in Provincial Muslim Leagues rose concerns that GM Sayed was planning to form the ‘Saiyad League’ and ‘Saiyad Raj’ (Ansari, 1992, 123). Along with the gradual mainstreaming of Sayeds in the democratic process, came the ideologies that combined Sayedism with Brahminic practices disguised as Sufism and Sanatan Dharam, and that task in Sindh was performed by both the Savarna Sindhis and Ashrafia elite (Sayeds, Pirs and tribal chiefs and landlords). G.M.Sayed emerged as the leading proponent of that version of political Sufism that marked its departure from the state-led political Islam (see Verkaaik, 2004; Leveque, 2016; Hussain, 2019).

The most popular version of political Sufism that weaved the history of Ahl-i-bayt with the Brahmanism and Sanatan Dharam, was written and propagated by G.M Sayed (see Sayed, 1974; Sayed, 1986). For instance, in his essay on Raja Dahir, a Brahmin ruler of Sindh, GM Sayed tries to prove that Sindhi people (including Brahmin and other Hindus) and Ahl-i-bayt (Sayed) had the common enemy, and that enemy, according to him was Banu-Ummaiya, the ruling tribe among Arabs, which according to Sayed, had persecuted Ahl-i-bayt (Sayed, 1974. P. 7). Sayed and the Brahmin were thus consciously projected as the natural allies against the particular ruling tribe of the Arabs. The Buddhist Rai dynasty (524-632 AD), believed to be of Shudra rulers that preceded Brahminic dynasty of Chach, was merely mentioned as a passing reference.

The critique was primarily mounted in defense of Raja Dahir, the last Brahmin who ruled Sindh till the 712 AD when the Arabs defeated him and conquered Sindh. While the defeat of Raja Dahir was projected by Sindhi nationalists as the colonization of Sindh by the Arabs. Contrary to Sindhi Sufi nationalists, the Islamists and the state projected the conquest and the preceding ashrafization of Sindh as the much-desired episodes of history that led to the spread of Islam. The history of the Brahmin-Ashrafia ruling elites that followed fascinated the contemporary historians as their hegemony continues till this day.

Hence the cohort of Sindhi nationalist writers that followed thereafter deliberately traced history either to the semi-mythical pre-Vedic civilization of Mohen-jo-Daro, or to the Brahmin dynasty (632-724 AD) (see Adwani, 2008; Ali, 2015; Hussain, 2019; Panhwar, 1993; Ojha, 2015; Sindhi, 2016a; Sindhi, 2016b, p. 31; Siraj, 2009, pp. 7-11). Most of the popular literature on the history of Sindh written from the nationalist perspective is largely based on the critique of the Persian book Chach Nama (story of the Chach) which is one of the main sources on the history of Sindh.

Hence, like the history of any other region of South Asia, the history of Sindh, mostly written by Sindhi writers, have projected the ancient Sindh as based on egalitarian values with some necessary social hierarchies of castes and tribes exiting to regulate the society. The ‘untouchable’ castes and tribes, peasants, workers, occupational castes and outcastes are just mentioned as a passing reference to prove that Sindhi society, in its essence, has been egalitarian.

The politico-historical details of Sindh that are generally found in history books are chronologically divided into the Arab, Soomra (1011–1351), Samma (1365–1521), Arghun (1520–1591), Tarkhan (1554–1591), and Kalhora (1701–1783) and Talpur (1783–1843) dynasties under the Mughal (1592–1843) patronage (see Ahmed, 1984; Ali, 2015; Burton, 1847; Sheedai, 1999[1958]). The Ashrafia ruling elite, mostly from the local Sammat and Baloch tribes and castes converted to Islam but continued to practise their Savarna customs and still continue to practise those rituals and practices. Savarna customs and the practices of Sammat castes gradually gave way to ashrafization, and resultantly, Soomra, Samma and Kalhora indigenous castes (locally known as Sammat) were further ashrafized. After conversion to Islam they intermarried with local Arab landowners and thus had acquired great influence and power. By furnishing Tuhfa-tul-Kiram and Beglar Namah, the two books on the history, as the reference, they reconstructed their genealogies to have roots in Arabs and in association with the Sayeds. Hence, the Soomras claimed to be Sumerian Arabs; Sammas, the descendants of Jamshed Abbasi of Persia, and Kalhoras traced their descent to Abbasid Khalifas.

Ashrafization of local Savarna tribes had much to do with the early Islamic-mystic missionaries, particularly the Islamaili (the saints of a Shia sect, and mainly Sayeds by caste). Ismailis mystics adopted the strategy to disguise themselves as non-Muslims and locals and induce gradual conversion (see Ansari, 1992; Erwing, 1983; Schimmel, 1975) to a version of Islam based on hereditary superiority of Sayeds. Ismailis would sing Ginan (Bhajan) on the pattern of Hindu Bhagti folk songs to attract non-Muslims. In Ginans of Pir Sadruddin, who had converted from Savarna (lohano) caste, Adam becomes Shiva, Muhammad becomes Brahma, and Ali becomes Vishnu. Islamilis initially targeted the privileged Savarnas to convert en masse. They had initial successes as many Rajputs and Vaniya castes converted to Islam. The Sammas, for instance, were brought within the Islamic fold by Shaikh Bahauddin Zakariya, Jats by Shah Qadiri (in lower Sindh) during the 14th century, Memons (formerly Vaniya/Vaishiya class) were converted by Qadri saint Saiyid Yusufuddin (see Ansari S., 1992: 23; Erwing, 1983; Schimmel, 1975).

Although Ismaili missionaries had begun to arrive in Sindh as early as the 9th century ad, the Hibari (Arab) dynasty (855 ad to 1010 ad), which had become independent from the Abbasids who ruled parts of Sindh from 750–855 ad, opened up the gate of Sindh for the Ismaili missionaries sent by Fatimid Caliphs (see Ansari, 1992; Erwing, 1983; Schimmel, 1975). Thus, in a way, it issued the licence for the Ismaili Pirs and Sayeds to migrate and settle in Sindh as the sanctified caste. Soomra rulers who followed the Arab rule continued to invite Ismaili Arab and Persian Ashrafia (mostly Sayeds) and confer land grants.

Many Sayeds and the Ismaili Khojas ¹⁶ or Khuwajas came into Sindh on their own, or after having accepted the invitations from rulers, fleeing the persecution of Abbasids and Halaku Khan in the Middle East (Burton, 1847: 27–28). They were welcomed, and sometimes even invited by the ruler of Sindh. Hence, apart from the conscious attempts of Ismaili mystics, there were other reasons for Sayeds to settle in Sindh in large numbers (see also Schimmel, 1982). Shia Sayeds had made inroads into Sindh prior to Hanafi Sayeds, but could not wield as much influence as did the Sunni Hanafi Sayeds (Ansari, 1992; Burton, 1847: 17–18; Erwing, 1983; Schimmel, 1975).

Ismaili Khojas were strictly casteist as grounded in the belief of the supremacy of Imams (immediate descendants of the prophet) and the belief that it continues to the present day in the form of a physically existing Imam who creates a religio-political culture with casteist overtones even stronger than Brahminic ones. Hence, amid the sectarian Sunni-Shia controversy that began during the 11th century ad, both the Sunni and Shia (Ismaili) mystics continued to shape the contours of Sufism premised on the sanctified superiority of the tribe and or caste of the Prophet Muhammad. Presented through the allegorical and tragic representation of the war between Arab tribes during 680 ad known as battle of Karabala, the descendants of the Prophet are characterized as the epitome of tolerance and sacrifice for the sake of ultimate truth, and as the revivalists of the faith freedom and the justice. Shia Islam, in particular, is fundamentally premised upon the martyrdom of Ahal-i-bayt at Karabala and constructs the faith-based history of tribal politics of Arabs, believing in the divine authority and the right of Sayeds to rule and guide Muslims and the world at large. They, thus, turn the hereditary tribal politics of Arabs into religious dogma. The genealogical lists of Imams often found in the market at the shops and in houses of Shia, Barelvis and Sufi Siddhis shows that the belief in the supremacy the birth of the being in any particular family lies at the core of their faith. It sets them squarely with the Brahminic belief in the supremacy of Brahmin caste and the inferiority of certain other castes. This belief in the superiority of Sayeds, owned, inherited, claimed by the Sayeds, and confirmed by the local people lies at the base of ashrafization and or casteism in Islam.

Discursive identifiers of Ashrafization in contemporary Sindh

It is not uncommon in Sindh to observe Dalits hiding their caste names. This tendency was more common among the young Dalits and the middle -aged than the elderly people. While travelling in local buses and the vans during my fieldwork, several times I tried to identify the Dalits to establish rapport and expand the reach of my research. When I asked them about their identity, they would more often than not would tell that they were Hindus. After repeating my query for a couple times some would tell that they were ‘Deewan’ and or ‘Shaikh’, that is, their pseudo-caste names. Only a few of those strangers with whom I interacted told their original castes, yet that also with either Savarna prefixes such as Rajput, or the regional suffixes such as Katchi, Parkari etc attached. Although many of them professed to be Hindus, they told that they would visit Muslim saints and had as strong belief I them. This way of knowing one’s caste background, as I did, is the common way people in Sindh tend to interact when they meet for the first. Knowing caste, along with the name, is important as it alludes to the person’s socioeconomic and the religious background, the factors that are considered important to become intimate or maintain the distance. The norm is that the Dalits tend to hide their caste names, and the Ashrafia or the Savarnas tend to be outspoken about their caste background.

A Dalit activist lamented that, “Not accepting the social fact is what discredits us everywhere. What could be the height of suppression when a person had to hide his/her real name while moving in a so-called civilized society.” That is what happens with a Jogi and Sami when they pursue their snack-charming occupation in cities and towns in Sindh. Heman becomes Hashim, Mirchoo becomes Meer Mohd, and Lalan becomes Lal Dino. They do this to avoid expected social discrimination with them at public places and in general dealings with the dominant Ashrafia society that jealousy guards its exploitative hierarchies. A Dalit journalist told that hundreds of families from Oad and other communities working in factories at SITE areas in Hyderabad Karachi have hidden their real names and adopted the alternative ones to avoid being socially discriminated. ‘Because of that, many others are entered in CNIC as either Muslims, or as Jati Hindus, although most of them are still unregistered’, he told. In this section, I contend that this ritual of inversion to hide or change the caste names, and or associate themselves with the Ashrafia class is because of the hegemonic influence of (political) Sufism that continues to (de)politicize caste in a manner that allows Ashrafia and Savarna classes, particularly Sayed castes, to dominate both culturally and politically. The normatively sanctioned superior status of Sayeds sets up the principles of upward mobility by means of association to or subordination to the Sayeds. This Sayed-led Ashrafia domination and the Dalit subordination reflects from the discursive practices and the popular local narratives prevalent in Sindhi civil society. The civil society activists rationalize the given caste hierarchies in a manner that reflects the cognitive dissonance between their explanations, their performative goals and the casteist reality surrounding them. For instance, during my field visits in 2016, when I asked about the prevalence of caste discrimination, Haji Khan Marri, a peasant activist (of Baloch caste) from Naonkot town said, ‘Here we do not have any problem. All bradaris (castes) live with peace. Muslims do not offend Hindus. People consider Bheel a lower caste, but they do not harm them.’ When asked about the status of the Marri caste, he replied with pride, ‘We are Baloch qaum (caste).’ About the status of Sayeds he said, ‘Sayed are the descendants of our holy prophet, therefore respectable.’ He added, ‘But not all Sayeds deserve equal respect. Some are bad, but people revere them because they are gifted by God.’ This social imaginary of the Ashrafia class peasant makes credible that living amicably with peace that prevails between Hindus, Muslims, lower caste Bheels, the proud Marris and the spiritually superior Sayeds is what makes the normatively acceptable structure of the society. Yet there are few who, cognizant of the vulnerability of the Dalits, draw a more contrasting picture. For instance, during a conversation over a cup of tea at local tea shop in Naon Dumbalo town, Daad Muhammad, a Barelvi Sufi affiliated with PML-F, ¹⁹ a conservative party patronized by the leading Sayed (Pir), argued:

Sadly, we have caste-based associations of all sorts, but we do not have any united Sindhi front. There is only one caste that is supreme to all, and that caste is Sayed. The rest are the dust of their feet.

Daad Muhammad’s desires to flatten all castes, except the Sayeds, because only Sayeds are entitled to be reckoned as superiors, echoes the sentiments of the most of those locals who are either affiliated with any Bravelvi and Shia school of thought, religious organizations, Sufi cults, or the political parties that are led by the Sayed Pirs. There are some among the Asharfia class who hold quite a realistic opinion and confess that caste-based discrimination is undesirable, but in their everyday life they follow the same Ashrafia norms to discriminate against the Dalitbahujans. For instance, Nasir Shah, a Sayed himself and a Sindhi nationalist said, ‘There should not be any casteism. However, the curse is that Sayed is for Sayed and Meer is for Meer. Chandio is for Chandio, and then this oppressive tribalism.’ Nasir opined that although Sayeds are superior by virtue of their spiritual prowess and the blood relation with the Prophet, they should, like G.M. Sayed, think about the welfare of the Sindhi people instead of only about their own family and Pir-Mureedi (Pir-disciple relationship, or the fatherly Shrine’s supremacy). Mushtaq Samo, a police constable sitting nearby agreed with Nasir, but held ummatis (non-Sayed followers of Sayeds and the Prophet) equally responsible for deviating from the path ordained by the Prophet. He said, ‘it is because we do not act according to the message of our Holy Prophet: I leave two things amongst you: one Holy Quran, second is Ahl-i-bayt (Sayed).’ The dissonance seemed more starkly visible, when the debate explicitly turned to the issue of discrimination against Scheduled Castes or Dalits. Ahmed Jalbani (Baloch) who was the staunch supporter of JSMM, a hardline separatist Sindhi nationalist faction, mockingly argued:

The existence of caste or bradari system is not something to wonder at or waste one’s time on debating it. There are oppressed in all caste groups. Even Sayeds and Brahmins can be found in a more oppressive and poverty ridden condition than many Dalits. Therefore, the real problem is not casteism but the radical Islam.

This is the usual trajectory of the conversations that I held with the locals at different places in towns and villages in lower Sindh. From the functionalist outlook on caste hierarchies to the exceptional superiority permitted to the Sayeds, the debate turns into an outright denial of caste discrimination through relativization. While contradicting and changing opinions reflects the dissonance of Ashrafia class, it shows that the Ashrafia activists may oppose each other on political grounds, and often concord with each other on the functionality. It shows that Sindhi civil society desires unity of Sindh without confronting the internal dissonance, that is, the contradictions exiting between their Sayedism and the resultant degradation of Dalits. As also discussed in the paper ‘Hegemony of caste in Islam and Sufism’, the occasional confessions of the political activists reflect their performative project to unite Sindhi nation, which simply requires them to synchronize caste affiliations with the Sufi and Sindhi national sentiments (see Hussain, 2019). The analysis of conversational interview conducted with the political workers, summarized in Figure 1, shows that the prevalence of dissonance between the prevalent casteism and the performative projection of the society by the political workers of the mainstream.

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Figure 1.

Level and nature of casteism in political workers.

From the analysis of conversational interviews, it became evident that the institution of caste is the micropolitical institution that regulates even the judicial matter of the people, including that of the political workers’ personal kinship and inter-caste issues. Since there are no formal legal codes or laws that may regulate the normative casteist politics, no one can be legally held responsible in crimes and atrocities committed in the name of the honour of zaat, qabeelo, or bradari (caste). The realization among political workers was at very low ebb that the state apparatus at local level is a mere lower order functionary part of the local tribal-caste order, or that the local government officials as well their subordinates, being from the same castes, cease to be simply officers or the neutral representatives of the people, and that the bureaucracy and the police were not independent of the hegemonic influence of the casteist norms that need to be tackled in mainstream politics. The detailed conversations revealed that although they nominally condemned casteism as a form of political ritual, in their everyday life they were conscious about the honour and prestige of their caste that needed to be guarded socially. They also expressed their attitude of difference and the symbolic respect for the dignitaries of their caste that included Sardars, Waderas, successful lawyers, businessmen, district officers and the leading politicians etc.

It shows that although casteism may be problematic for party workers on certain counts, it is not considered as a major social evil worthy of being put on the party agenda. Most of the activists showed their utmost reluctance to criticize or confront the deeply ingrained belief in the supremacy of Sayeds, as in case of the political workers of PML-F (Sayed-led hereditary-religious party) who were found to be the most casteist believed that Sayeds are superior and Dalit are in a way excluded because they are inherently inferior. While the workers affiliated with the leftist parties did have the realization that casteism is a sort of problem, the workers of the far-right parties seemed reluctant to consider it as the problem worthy of political attention.

The dissonance is hidden under the token representation of Dalits that is flaunted in media beyond proportions to prove that the parties are now increasingly accommodating the Dalits in politics. For instance, the leftist party AJP in 2018 became the first political party in Sindh to elect Vishnu Mal Maheshwari, a Dalit, as the central president of the party. A party worker told that the auditorium was hall full of the Maheshwaris when Vishu Mal was being elected. Although the party officially did not recognize the role of caste in their internal matters, it was evident beyond doubt that the Vishun Mal’s election was due to his caste-based stature within his caste that was organized by him under his chairmanship of All-Maheshwari Jamat, a Dalit caste-based association. While the party, being pro-nationalist, undermined the role of caste in Vishu’s election, the civil society celebrated it as an occasion of ‘lower caste’, or ‘Darawar’ empowerment. Tokenism, to take another example, was observed during the selection of Krishna Kolhi, sister of a Dalit activist, by PPP for the seat of a senator, or the use of Dr Khatumal to woo Meghwar voters. It shows that although the politicization of caste among the Dalits may enable them to rise in political standing, yet, as the Ambedkarites maintain, the occasional customary picking of a Dalit for the leadership position is a form of ‘dehumanizing tokenism, where one to exist as a “Dalit man” or “Dalit woman” also, in stark contrast to the other “humans” that s/she is sharing the dais with’ (Somwanshi, 2017). In the Ambedkarian imaginary, Sardars (customary chiefs of Sammat, Baloch and Sodha Thakur castes), Sayeds, and Vaniya (Vaishiya) politicians become the subject humans in the political arena in Sindh that are embellished at the periphery with a few Kolhi, Bheel and Meghwar (Dalit) subordinates (see also Hussain, 2019).

The sociocultural impact of Ashrafization on (Hindu) Dalits

According to Gopal Guru (2012), Dalitness is created by the state, and therefore it is imposed upon the Dalits from the outside. Since state in Pakistan is led by the Ashrafia class, they should be held accountable for caste discrimination. Hence, it is not Dalits who want to maintain caste order which discriminates them, but the Ashrafia-savarna classes who have vested interests in maintaining that order. The denial of such imposition of the Dalitness by the Ashrafia-savarna classes and the denial of Dalitness, that is, the humiliating present and or the past condition by the Dalits through the idealized argumentation, is therefore tantamount to absolving the Ashrafia-savarna hegemons from their social responsibility to create and maintain caste order. During my fieldwork and the later social media interactions, I observed that many among the Dalits, supported by the Savarna-Ashraf Sindhi civil society, were denying Dalitness, and absolving the Ashrafia and the state of its responsibility. On that basis they were further rejecting the use of the term ‘Dalit’, alleging that it rather amplifies their inferiority complex. Contrary to that, a small number of anti-caste activists among them were asserting Dalitness by suggesting reflection upon the ‘untouchable’ past and the ongoing caste discrimination. The suggestive reflection was, for instance, meant to sharpen the political vision of the would-be Dalit activists to recast their demands of political representation by contrasting their exclusion with the over-representation of Savarnas in the legislative assemblies. This assertive Dalitness is believed to be a ‘source of confrontation’ and an essential ‘process towards achieving a sense of cultural identity’, with the potential to achieve ‘one’s total entity’ and ‘justice for the entire mankind’ (Guru, 2012; Paswan et al., 2003).

Since the domination of Dalits is not absolute, the space is left for the interplay of dissent, that in process not only allows Dalits to assert, but also creates dissonance between their anti-caste assertions and the caste-based drive to hindusize and ashrafize. The dissonance turns out to be more complicated when one observes the widely prevalent reverence for Sayeds and Muslim Pirs along with the worship of their supposed Hindu deities, and the concomitant denial of Dalitness. For instance, when I asked Chandan Koochrio, ²⁰ ‘whom do you worship?’, he said:

First of all, let me tell you that we are not Koochriya. Our ancestors were [Koochriya] when they used to steal property of others. There are, however, a few left among us that do the same. But originally, we were Sensi Rajput. We are Hindus but we also worship Qalandar Shahabaz [Sayed], Shah Latif [Sayed Poet and Pir] and Badshah Pir [Shaikh Abdul Qadir Jeelani].

Contrary to Koochrya, Achar Fakeer, a Shikari Bheel did not classify himself into any religious category. When I asked him about his religious rituals, he replied:

Brother, we summon Mullah [Islamic religious cleric) to solemnize our marriage, but we do not read Quran, neither go to Mosque, or to the temple. We revere every saint of Allah; may it be Hindu or Muslim”.

I asked, ‘then are you a Muslim or Hindu?”. After a moment’s pause, he replied, ‘don’t know. We bury our dead like Muslims do, but people call us Hindus’. Koochiyra and Shikari Bheel, Gurgula, Kabootra, Jandawra belong to the ultra-subaltern section of the Dalits whose religion and rituals are undefined and the least sophisticated. Unlike the ultra-subaltern Dalits, the level of religiosity among the Dalits, particularly Kolhi, Bheel, Meghwar, Baghri and Oad castes is relatively high. Majority of them, without hesitation, identify themselves with the Hindu religion, although, they too are highly syncretic in practice. This increased Hindu consciousness became starkly visible when I, along with other anti-caste activists as the members Dalit Sujaag Tehreek, ²¹ interacted, with some Bheel activists.

When a Dalit activist asked a veteran Sindhi nationalist Comrade Lalchand Bheel (Dalit) to support Dalit Sujaag Tehreek (anti-caste group of activists), he advised in a complaining tone:

Please! Do not fan caste discrimination by talking about ‘Dalit’. Except a minor issue here and there, all castes are living amicably. Sindh is the land of Sufis. Bheel, Kolhi, Mari, Bajeer, Laghari all are Sindhis and must be united on a single platform instead of seeing them divided against each other.

‘Dalit simply means “untouchable”, therefore humiliating for us’, told Rawto Kolhi when a Dalit activist insisted on arguing in defence of the use of the term ‘Dalit’. In most of the encounters with the upwardly mobile Dalits, the use of the term ‘Dalit’ was countered by asserting association with the Sindhi and Sufi whole. The civil society activists argued that the use or the mention of terms such as ‘Dalit’ or the caste name that may invoke stigmatized past or the past condition, humiliates Dalits and further foments casteism. Use of the term ‘Dalit’ was construed as divisive and an attempt to conspire against the unity of Sindh. Those with the Marxist bent of mind believed that casteism is epiphenomenal and will vanish away on its own; or that ‘caste’ and ‘Dalit’ is an Indian thing (see also Hussain, 2019). Hence, the cognitive dissonance emerged as the explicit rejection of the term ‘Dalit’ to gloss over the Dalitness or the existing caste-based discrimination was not corresponding with the equal rejection of the supposed superior status of Sayeds, Sodha Rajputs and other Ashrafi-savarna castes. Instead, as evident from the reconstructed identity of Chandan Koochryo, they aspire to be known as Rajputs (Kshatriyas), or want to be reckoned as honourable communities with the dominant Sayed and Ashrafia castes. Hence, they are not rejective of casteism as such as they are of Dalitness, the rejection of which hardly betters their standing vis-à-vis Savarna-Ashrafia castes. Dalits remain Dalits and their claims are not taken seriously as genuine. Savrana Rajputs continue to mark their discriminatory difference from the Kolhi, Bheel and Koochriya Rajput. Hence the Rajput tag, or the tag of mureedi (discipleship) of the Sayed Pir, instead of raising their caste status to the equals merely reaffirms the pre-existing caste order.

Particularly in caste of Sayeds, Dalits do not seem to make conscious attempts to reason out causes of their humiliation that is perpetuated by their submission to Sayeds, and thus, do not perceive Sayeds as the equally hegemonic factor as they do perceive any wadero (village head) or Sardar (tribal chief) and feudal (landlord) of Ashrafia class. This paradoxically assiduous reverence for Sayeds is so normalized that it exists in folklore and can be found in idioms at the everyday level. For instance, I heard the Sindhi idiom ‘Sayed mero ta b sawa sero’ (‘Sayed is superior even if he were dirty/poor’) for the first time from Vinod Kolhi, a Dalit peasant with whom I met in semi-permanent settlements on the bank of the water course in Haji Khan Laghari, a village near Naon Kot, which is a small town in lower Sindh. ‘We are Kolhi Rajput, but Sayed are Sayed’, said Vinod when I asked him who he votes for in elections, ‘Vote always belongs to Wadero Dadal Khan Laghari, the head of our village. We will vote anyone he recommends. Vinod’s praise of the Sayed caste and his realization that his own caste is inferior shows that Sayedism is normalized in Sindh. The ‘poor Sayed’ and the ‘rich Dalit’ are illusive categories, sort of oxymorons as even the exceptional economic thrift of a Dalit does not in any way make him/her the social and political equal to Ashrafia castes.

The logic of power follows from the caste endogamy as most of the Sayeds, rich or poor, living in villages are kins to other rich and or poor Sayeds. Consequently, there is, for instance, a rising lower middle class, particularly among Meghwar (Dalit) community, but none of them is wealthy and powerful enough to politically vie with Sayed or any Ashrafia caste fellow as the power in the caste-ridden society is not merely based on individuals economic capital, but also on the collective caste capital of the each caste. Dalits are pragmatic enough to know this power differential, as in case of Vinod, who had the realization that, as compared to Sayeds and Laghari Baloch, his own caste was not only considered genealogically ‘inferior’ but also powerless, as they do not have the same social connections available to any poor Sayed or rich Baloch landlord supported by powerful Sardaars (tribal chiefs). Unhappiness with this situation was writ large on the Vinod’s face, and this reflected the Dalitness discussed earlier (i.e. the feeling of humiliation a Dalit has when they are not treated equally). To overcome that anxiety emergent of ‘untouchable’ identity, Vinod redefined his identity as Rajput, the caste-based epithet usually used by ‘upper caste’ Hindus of Tharparkar in Sindh and Rajasthan in India. This re-identification with the ‘upper caste’ Hindu as savarnisation is supplemented with the equal drive for ashrafization, that is, the tendency to associate or identity with the Sayeds and other Ashrafia castes of Muslims (Buehler, 2012) without conversion.

Particularly, in the context of caste-based discrimination, the experiences of those Dalits that converted to Islam taught them the lesson that the stigma of ‘untouchability’ associated with their caste remains attached even after conversion, as the change of caste markers was easily apprehended by the locals, particularly by Asrhafia and Savarna who are always keen to know the caste background of the suspect Dalit. Usually, after having known the caste background of a Dalit, the Ashrafia and Savarna individual(s) ignore, discriminate, humiliate and relabel them back as per their Dalit caste names that may have assumed the derogatory connotation because of casteism. For instance, Bheel convert to Shaikh caste is relabelled as Bheel Shaikh, or Chuhro Shaikh, the markers that are considered derogatory symbols of lower and/or untouchable caste status.

This fear of humiliation, once the caste background and the associated stigma is revealed, is one of the potent factors of the denial of Dalitness (the condition of being humiliated) leading them to hide their original or previous caste labels. For instance, when I stayed a night at Kaloi (a small town in Tharparkar district, Sindh) at the guest house of Harchand Jaipal in May 2016, I observed how the shrine of Gahiyo Fakeer, a Hindu Dalit sant of Jaipal subcaste of Meghwar (Dalit), who was the disciple of Razi Shah (a Sayed Muslim Sufi), was being revered by Dalits while they were denying their state of Dalitness. When satsang (devotional Hindu-Sufi music programme) began, there erupted a short but heated debate between two of the Jaipal men. ‘Sindh is the land of Sufis. There is no caste, no Dalit’, rebutted Rampal, the elderly and the organizer of the Mela (festival), when Moolchand, a university student, tried to convince him that the Jaipal community is officially classified in Pakistan as Scheduled Caste, and that they should politically identify themselves as Dalits, the oppressed class. After contemplating for a few seconds, Rampal continued, ‘Yes, we were turned into untouchables; we suffered extreme humiliations. But now the time has changed. We are still discriminated but we are no more Dalits.’ This contention over the use and misuse of identity markers went on within Dalit family members, some arguing for the use of ‘Dalit’ and ‘SC’ terms, others suggesting ‘Hindu’ and Darawar, yet others simultaneously embracing all these identities.

This caste-based specificity of the place, the event, and the Sufi figure gave solace to Meghwar that a Sufi/Sant can rise from within their own community as well, and that they have somehow defied ‘untouchability’ as their sant was sanctified by the Sayed Sufi, the proof that casteism is on the wane and do not anymore require the drive against untouchability or caste discrimination. This assumption is buttressed by the examples of interfaith harmony that involved Hindu Dalits and Jati Hindus participating in Islamic religious festivals, such as observing reverence for the Ahl-i-bayt during the month of Moharram (first month of the Islamic Calendar), or the invocation of Mola ²² Ali when in trouble or seeking amulets from Sayeds and Muslims. For instance, a Dalit, in an attempt to convince of existing commonness of faith told:

Do you know brother! In Chachro there is Imam Bargah ²³ of a Hindu Sindhi managed by Hazrat Allama Ravi Shankar. In that Bargah, regular Majlis are held. The local Hindus participate in it. We also go there to pay homage to the martyrs of Karbala and Mola Ali.

The naïveté of this logic of equality – promoted by a tiny class of upwardly mobile Meghwars – was revealed to me when I saw that the Dalit’s reverence for Sayeds was not being reciprocated by Ashrafia castes. For instance, in UC Adhigam of Nangarparkar, the region that borders with India and is considered as the frontier region, I observed that about 12 shrines of Sayed/Shah existed in the area that were often visited by Kolhi and Meghwar communities that formed the largest communities in UC Adhigam. Both the Sayed and ‘Shah’ are the colloquial term in Sindhi (borrowed from Arabic and Persian respectively). Both the terms literally mean ‘honourable’. While the term ‘Sayed’ was used by Parkari communities to refer to a particular caste instead of a mere title or epithet of respect, ‘Shah’ was used as title attributed to both Sayed and non-Sayed Pirs (spiritual or religious leaders).

In UC Aghigam there were two Meghwar sants as well, but Muslim castes (Khokhar, Kumhbar and Fakeer) and Thakur or Mahraj (Jati Hindus) did not show equal reverence towards them. There was no Sayed family living in the area. The Kolhi community was in majority but there was no pir/sant known to exist from their caste. This disparity in the distribution of spiritual/religious capital across castes determined the level of reverence or the respect that could be offered to any Sufi pir, sant or the caste to which they belonged to. I also noticed the interesting phenomenon of the posthumous conversion and ashrafization of Dalit pirs. For instance, a Dalit activist from Mirpurkhas told that Umedo Bheel, Gulab Bheel (Hindu Dalits) and Raja Vir have been renamed as Umeed Ali Ghazi Bukhari (Sayed), Gulab Shah and Rahmat Ali Shah Bukhari, the Sayed caste titles. In another instance, the graveyard named after Chando Fakeer Bheel, the disciple of Shah Inayat (Muslim sant), was occupied by Mallah and Nohri castes. Jaro Bheel said, ‘Nohris installed a board over graveyard naming it after Sayed Noor Ali Shah, arguing that this Sayed’s grave here. Previously Muslims would convert us to Machi and Shaikh (lower castes), but now they are turning us into Sayed.’ This forced grabbing of sanctified places of Dalits leads one to believe in the narratives of the Dalits that want to reclaim their past spiritual legacy. Dalit activists, for instance, claimed that their Dalit mystics were turned into Savarnas during the course of history. To prove their point they give examples of Bago fakeer Bhil, now called Bago Birham or Par Birham (Barham), and Peru fakeer Bhil (at the village Jahiroo Sharif), now called Par Birham by the Savarnas, and Rama Pir Meghwar, who is now believed to be a Thakur (Savarna).

Interestingly, some of the Bheel activists did not see any problem with that savarnisation and or ashrafisation, and the change of caste names suggested in part when they adopted the Ashrafia caste. Naroo Mal Bheel, a peon in a local school in Jhudo town, even argued that ‘Bheels should also have the right to become Sayed.’ It reflected their desperateness to get rid of the caste identities having the ‘untouchable’ stigma attached to them. To achieve that while some were just deliberately hiding, others were avoiding talking of the ‘untouchable’ past, or to skip it to glorify the ancient (mythical) past, yet others suggest glossing with the Ashrafia identity markers such as Sayed, Pir, Sant or Sufi, Hindu, Rajput, Sindhi.

The extraordinary reverence for the Sayeds observed by the Hindu Dalits is an attempt to redefine the standing of their caste, through the inversion of the ritual, to attests to the Islamic belief in the sanctified superiority of the Sayeds and the profane status of the commoners (including non-Muslims). This drive for caste-parity is monitored by the Savarna and Ashrafia classes to discern between the supposed actual or original Savarna and Ashraf, and the Dalit aspirant. Caste superiority thus becomes the matter of relative prestige that generates caste hierarchies and graded inequalities with, for instance, the Ashrafia and Savarna Rajputs always considered as superior to the neo-Savarna or the neo-Ashraf Rajput converts. Hence, the manoeuvers to ashrafize and sanskritize did seem to enhance their self-esteem, that is, their own judgement of the self, yet in one way or another, it failed to afford them the self-respect that is contingent upon the reciprocal reverence for Dalits coming from the Sayed or Ashrafia castes. Consequently, Dalits tend to express denial and difference towards their Dalitness, to the Dalit identities, the existing or the past ‘untouchability’ or to the humiliating attitude that they may experience. To reduce the pain involving the ‘cognition’ of the resilience of ‘untouchability’ and caste discrimination, they adopt hegemonically given ashrafization and savarnisation as the pain-relieving cognitive strategies to reduce dissonance (on cognitive dissonance, see Festinger, 1962 and Olsen and Schober, 1993). In this manner, Dalits help Ashrafia hegemony to sustain under the false assumption that casteism and the Dalitness do not exist, are waning, or are politically non-antagonistic. This cognitive dissonance emanates from the Dalit’s and the civil society activist’s self-contradictory statements, indifference to casteism, the silence over Dalit oppression, and denial of Dalitness expressed through the hegemonic narratives and the practices in the spaces dominated by Ashrafia, and to certain extent by Savarna, classes (see Table 1).Looking from the Ambedkarian perspective (Guru, 2011a, 2011b; Kumar, 2016a, 2016b, 2005), this strategy to forget the past and wish to improve their present through savarnisation and ashrafization does not work to the advantage of Dalitbahujans, and, paradoxically, attests the superiority of Savarna-Ashrafs and the inferiority of Dalit (bahujans), and instead, sets up the social and political field of contention to sustain, emulate, appropriate and deny caste capital (Kumar, 2016a, 2016b). The interaction of different castes continues to develop the self-image of the individual or the caste group based on the perception of worth of the social capital each caste inherits, which develops the feelings of superiority and or inferiority among the individual or caste group. The hegemonic narrative compels a belief that Sayeds, Sammat, Baloch and Vaniya (Vaishiya) castes have more cultural and symbolic capital than Kolhi, Bheel, Meghwar, Bajeer and Mangarhar (Dalitbahujan castes). This realization of the differential lack of capital made agreeable by the Ashrafia narratives of political Sufism and Islam psychologically compels Dalits to deny Dalitness, to hide their caste identities, and to ashrafize. The denial of Dalitness is, therefore the dissonant reaction of the oppressed that has been inculcated in Dalits or imposed upon them or rationalized through the Ashrafia narrative that reflects the cognitive dissonance on the issue and or the practice of casteism and caste-based discrimination.

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Table 1.

Social spaces, hegemonic narratives and practices underlying dissonance.

Types of dissonance			Spaces, narratives and practices
Theme	Sub-theme	Dissonant statements	Underlying Narratives/Ideology/Goal	Spaces/places that reflect hegemony and dissonance	Practices that reflect dissonance
Contradictory overt Assertion	a) Positive affirmation	There is caste/casteism/Sayedism, but it is good for the society.	Tribal and caste-based traditions and customs. Political Islam/Pakistani nationalism/Two-nation theory, Sindhi nationalism/Political Sufism Political Sufism/Sindhi Nationalism Sanatan Dharam/Hinduism Imaamat Shia and Bralevi Islam	Qaum, Qabeelo, Zaat (caste Dargah (Shrine), Temple, civil society, political society Sufi, Pir, Sant	Casteism (Sayedism, Dalit Exclusion) Ashrafization Ritual Inversion Shrine worship Hero worship
	b) Negative affirmation	There is caste/casteism/Sayedism and it is bad for society.
Indifference and Silence		Casteism/Dalit exclusion is irrelevant. It is non-antagonistic.
Denial of casteism/Dalitness	a) Relativization/Defensive justification/Ritual inversion	There are oppressed and the poor in all castes. This or that Dalit leader is representing Dalits at national level.
	b) Explicit Denial	There is no caste in Sindh/Islam/Pakistan.
	c) Shifting blame	Casteism is the product of Pakistani state. It’s an Indian malady creeping into Sindh.

Looking retrospectively, although I made use of the term ‘Dalit’ in the specific sense for Scheduled Castes, as well in generic sense for the similar overlapping communities, its use was problematized. Those who assert that Dalitness has the positive value as a form of transformative social protest (Guru, 2012; Paswan et al, 2003) to acquire the capacity to mount resistance against ashrafization and savarinzation are far fewer in numbers. The reasons for ‘Dalit’ identity contestation were many depending on the location and the political affiliations of the people. For instance, while Sindhi nationalists considered the use of the term ‘Dalit’ as divisive of Sindhi nation, the Dalits themselves primarily opposed it because it was bringing to the social and political surface their ‘ex-untouchable’ caste location that they were taking pains to hide through savranization and ashrafization. This denial of Dalitness of varying kinds and intensity lies at the base of the dissonance between the empirically existing ‘Dalitness’, the denial of it, and the affirmation of Sayedism prevalent in Dalits and the Sindhi civil society activists. This denial of Dalitness by Dalits was their negative reaction to hide the caste identities to facilitate upward mobility through ashrafization. Hence, in the final analysis, in Sindh the hegemony of Ashrafia-Savarna class determines the acceptance and or the rejection of the identity labels employed by the Dalits. Each ethnic identity carriers the cultural capital and, therefore, symbolizes power and richness or the lack of it. The term ‘Dalit’, Scheduled Castes or any such terms that alluded to the past or the existing lack of caste capital that those identities carried is unacceptable to majority of Dalits. That was, however, not the case with the non-Dalit Sindhis, who tended to relativize Dalit oppression only when their belief in Sayedism and or Ashrafia legacy was questioned. This defied the Ambedkarian demand to understand and use collective or the plural caste identities, including ‘Dalit’ and ‘Scheduled Castes in the positive and emancipatory sense, and as the markers of social protest (see NewClickin, 2017), and to draw the marked contrast between the Dalit (bahujans) and the Ashrafia-savarna classes. The use of the plural class categories of the oppressed castes is deemed politically necessary and sociologically useful to make the point that Dalitness is the not the Dalit’s own choice, but the oppressive condition imposed upon them by the Savarna-Ashrafia castes.

Looking retrospectively, although I made use of the term ‘Dalit’ in the specific sense for Scheduled Castes, as well in generic sense for the similar overlapping communities, its use was problematized. Those who assert that Dalitness has the positive value as a form of transformative social protest (Guru, 2012; Paswan et al., 2003) to acquire the capacity to mount resistance against ashrafization and sanskiritization are far fewer in numbers. The reasons for ‘Dalit’ identity contestation were many depending on the location and the political affiliations of the people. For instance, while Sindhi nationalists considered the use of the term ‘Dalit’ as divisive of Sindhi nation, the Dalits themselves primarily opposed it because it was bringing to the social and political surface their ‘ex-untouchable’ caste location that they were taking pains to hide through savranization and ashrafization. This denial of Dalitness of varying kind and intensity lies at the base of the dissonance between the empirically existing ‘Dalitness’, the denial of it, and the affirmation of Sayedism prevalent in Dalits and the Sindhi civil society activists. This denial of Dalitness by Dalits was their negative reaction to hide the caste identities to facilitate upward mobility through savarnization and ashrafization.

Conclusion

The analysis shows that the denial of casteism and Dalitness has much to do with the belief of the Dalits and the political activists in Sayedism, which was the result of the historical privileges conferred upon them by ruling elites and the religious authorities, and that grew to get institutionalized in the form of ‘Dargah’ (shrine). The normative sanction of the Sayeds as superiors and that of the Kolhi, Bheel, Meghwar or the Dalits as inferiors was not uniform in expression as it generated the dissonance. The dissonance was regulated by means of ethnocentric discursive and performative practices of political Sufism, and reflected from their denial of Dalitness, that is the realization of being humiliated and oppressed by the Savarnas and the Ashrafia classes, particularly by the Sayeds and Vaniya castes.

Hence, the denial of casteism, the opposition to the use of the ‘Dalit’ identity marker and the negation of the Dalitness seemed to have as much to do with the belief in Ashrafia values as it had with the normative sanction of the Savarna values. Both the Savarna and Ashrafia values seemed to have found their expression in the dominant ethnocentric form of political Sufism. Political Sufism merges the Savarna and Ashrafia norms by means of the syncretic narrative based on interfaith harmony and the civilisational rhetoric.

The analysis revealed that the the rationalisation of casteism by the political workers of Ashrafia background and by the Dalits, was the cognitive reaction to dissipate dissonance while coping up with the issue of the reverence for Sayeds. The casteist practices were evident from the dissonance, the rituals of inversion to hide caste names, and the narratives related to the rites of passage, particularly caste endogamy, surreptitiously hierarchized castes to assign the lowest order to Kolhi, Bheel, Meghwar and other Dalit castes whereby the Dalit caste names become their ‘untouchable’ identity markers. Because of the hiding tendencies, the term ‘Dalit’ itself was the subject of controversy and contestation between the anti-caste activists and the anti-Dalits prone to Savarnisation and Ashrafization. The intervention of Sindhi civil society, particularly that of Sindhi nationalists, in the Dalit discursive spaces of decision-making, showed how Sindhi Ashrafia continued to hegemonize the (re)construction of the identities, and the (re)formation of the narrative(s) for the Dalits.

Looking from the Ambedkarian perspective, civilisational greatness such as that of Hindu-Muslim harmony were employed to dissipate dissonance that threw the Dalit narrative (or myth) of the Darawar (Dravidian) roots of Indus Civilization into the backwater of contemporary social and political discourse. Savarnas and the Ashrafia classes tended to differentiate between original and fake Ashrafs and the Savarnas and reposition themselves as the superiors. It meant that Sindhi civil society desired the unity of Sindh without confronting the internal dissonance, that is, the contradictions exiting between their Sayedism and the resultant degradation of Dalits.Therefore, I argue that, although the active use of the term ‘Dalit’ by the Dalit activists and the understanding of the Dalitness as the state of realization of being humiliated seemed to be failing to reporduce the positive Dalitness that may infuse the transformative spirit to struggle, the tendency to hide and change caste the names also did not seem to succeed either. The suppression of the negative Dalitness did not help much to gain the desired self-respect. But it did not mean the absence of friction between the Dalitbahujans the Ashrafia-Savarna classes. In fact, the Dalit’s attempts to dissipate the cognitive dissonance underlying the existing caste discrimination can also be understood as the kind of social-psychological friction prompting them to bridge the caste disparity between themselves and the Savarna-Ashrafs. and or the Dalitness that the Dalits tend to relativize, and the hegemonic role of Sindhi Ashrafia class, particularly that of the Sayeds to which Dalits submitted with reverence.

I, therefore, conclude that independent of the cognitive function to dissipate psychological pain, the social imaginary rooted in ethnocentric forms of Sufism as it manifested in the form of Sayedism in the intersubjectively shared lifeworld of the Dalitbahujan and the Ashrafia-Savarna classes, defies the Ambedkarian approach to society and politics that argues for the eradication of casteism. It also minimizes the chances of Dalits to come up with their own counter-hegemonic narrative(s) that may transcend the Sufi nationalist performative projection of Sayedism and or casteism and may prepare ground for the moral-ethical reformation of society.