Emerging from the Shadows

“The knower, the known, and the act of knowing are one.” In this timeless utterance from the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, India’s ancient wisdom unveils a profound truth: the study of humanity is not a detached observation but an intimate unity of experience, understanding, and being. This non-dualistic vision—where the observer, the observed, and the act of observation dissolve into oneness—stands as a cornerstone of India’s intellectual heritage. It whispers of an anthropology that transcends the fragmented, objectifying lens imposed during centuries of British subjugation (1858–1947), when Western scholars reduced India to a mere specimen of the “other.” Today, as India reclaims its voice, this Upanishadic insight beckons a rewriting of anthropology—not as a borrowed Western science, but as a living tradition rooted in the subcontinent’s own soil. Drawing from ancient sages to modern thinkers like MN Srinivas, this essay critiques the colonial distortions of Indian anthropology and envisions a discipline that reflects India’s pluralistic ethos, guided by institutions like the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts through its pioneering divisions.

Under British rule, India became a laboratory for Western anthropology, shaped by imperial agendas. Herbert Risley, in the 1901 Census, declared, “The caste system is the natural outcome of the interaction of the Aryan race with the inferior aboriginal tribes,” casting India’s social complexity into a racial mold that served colonial hierarchies. Alfred Radcliffe-Brown’s structural-functionalism further froze Indian villages into static systems, stripping them of historical dynamism. As Bernard S Cohn observed, “The British conquest of India was a conquest of knowledge as much as it was a conquest of land.” Censuses, surveys, and ethnographic treatises were tools of governance, not understanding, painting India as a land of superstition and stagnation.

Even after independence, these Western frameworks lingered. Indian anthropologists, trained in Malinowski’s fieldwork or Durkheim’s theories, often sidelined indigenous epistemologies, perpetuating a narrative that clashed with the Upanishadic unity of knowing and being. This colonial legacy demands reevaluation, a return to India’s own ways of seeing humanity. Long before anthropology emerged as a Western discipline, India nurtured a holistic tradition of studying human life. The Rigveda (c. 1500 BCE) muses, “Man is born of the earth, sustained by the earth, and returns to the earth”, weaving humanity into the fabric of nature. Kautilya’s Arthashastra asserts, “The root of happiness is Dharma; the root of Dharma is wealth; the root of wealth is power; and the root of power is conquest over the senses,” blending ethics, economics, and psychology into a pragmatic social science. Abhinavagupta adds, “The self is the mirror of the universe” (Tantraloka), offering a relational view that defies Western dualisms.

These were not abstract musings but systematic inquiries into existence—anthropologies of experience, not mere classification. They stand in stark contrast to the colonial gaze, which sought to dissect rather than connect, and they lay the foundation for a reimagined Indian anthropology.

Post-independence, Indian scholars began to loosen the colonial yoke. MN Srinivas, in The Remembered Village (1976), wrote, “The anthropologist’s strength lies in his ability to see the large in the small,” grounding his study of caste in lived realities rather than imported abstractions. His concept of Sanskritization recast caste as a fluid process, not a fossilized structure. AR Desai, in Social Background of Indian Nationalism (1948), exposed the economic violence of British rule: “British rule destroyed the self-sufficient village economy, turning artisans into paupers and peasants into laborers.” His work infused anthropology with historical depth, challenging Western ahistorical models.

These efforts reflect a growing assertion of India’s intellectual agency, aligning with the Upanishadic ideal of unity in understanding—a synthesis of past and present, local and universal.

Modern scholars amplify this call, institutions like Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts exemplifies this shift through its divisions like Janapada Sampada and Kala Nidhi. Janapada Sampada, dedicated to folk and janjatiya lifestyles, documents India’s living cultures with a reverence for their interdependence with nature and society—echoing the Rigveda’s ecological harmony. Kala Nidhi, a vast archive of texts and artifacts, preserves India’s cultural knowledge, offering a repository for rethinking human experience beyond Western categories. These initiatives embody a vision of anthropology as a dynamic, participatory tradition, not a sterile import, quietly urging a return to India’s own epistemic roots. To transcend Western frameworks, Indian anthropology must embrace its own voices—janjatiya narratives, regional languages, and oral histories. With over 1,600 languages, India’s linguistic diversity offers a rich tapestry for theory-building, unshackled from English-centric models.

Indian anthropology beyond the West is a journey inward, guided by the Upanishadic truth that knowing is being. From the Rigveda’s ecological wisdom to Srinivas’ village insights, it weaves a discipline that honors India’s past while shaping its future. Institutions and scholars through their quiet yet profound work, light the path—offering not just a critique of colonial shadows, but a radiant vision of anthropology as India’s gift to itself and the world.

The writer is a distinguished literary figure and serves as the Member Secretary of IGNCA. Views expressed are personal