Manifolds are the manifestations of caste: There are untouchables and unapproachable, those whose sight itself is a damnation, and those who do not mix in marriage or even in eating food…”
These lines from Duravastha (The Tragic Plight), the 1922 poem by Kumaran Asan, exposed the rigid caste discrimination of his era. A century later, Kerala, celebrated for its progressive outlook, continues to grapple with caste, albeit in subtler, metamorphosed forms. Extreme untouchability has largely receded, but it has been replaced by less visible yet persistent manifestations: Verbal abuse, social exclusion, and physical violence rooted in caste, skin colour, and class prejudice.
Several incidents underscore the continuing challenges faced by marginalised communities, scheduled castes, scheduled tribes, and dalit Christians. The lynching of Madhu, a tribal man in Palakkad; the suicide of tribal police officer Kumar N K, allegedly driven by harassment from colleagues; and the killing of dalit Christian Kevin P Joseph by his wife’s family have each exposed deep-rooted caste bias.
More recently, the reported suicide of dalit medical student Nithin Raj K L, allegedly linked to faculty harassment, reflects the barriers marginalised communities continue to face in the 21st century. Despite its strong social indicators, Kerala reports over 1,000 cases annually under the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act.
Writer and dalit activist Sunny M Kapikad argues that the roots of discrimination lie within households. The ‘othering’ begins early, children absorb prejudiced ideas about caste, colour, and race through parental influence, ideas reinforced within the educational system, allowing discrimination to endure across generations.
“A high level of education does not automatically eliminate caste-based attitudes,” says Kapikad, pointing to deep-rooted hypocrisy in Kerala society. People may publicly denounce caste discrimination, but in private spaces, caste conditioning persists in subtle yet pervasive ways.
He recounts a disturbing incident involving his grandchild. “One day, she came back from nursery claiming that ‘all black-skinned people are thieves.’ When I asked who had said this, she named a classmate. I approached the nursery and requested a meeting with the girl’s parents. When I confronted them, they appeared embarrassed and tried to deflect responsibility.”
As long as caste functions as a powerful social institution, he argues, people engage with one another not as individuals but through the lens of caste identity.
Geo Mathew, son of noted writer Dr Mathew Ulakamthara, has alleged repeated caste-based violence against his minor son at a school in Attapady, raising concerns about institutional inaction and the safety of tribal students. Geo, who is married to a tribal woman, says they consciously chose to raise their child with that identity. He alleges his son faced sustained abuse and physical violence from classmates, and was also pressured to adopt the religious practices of a particular group.
“He was brutally assaulted by students. The repeated attacks traumatised him badly. He is now afraid of attending school. I filed complaints with the police, Childline, and the district collector, all in vain. I now plan to approach the high court,” he says.
Poet Mrudula Devi S calls for collective organization among marginalized communities. Drawing a parallel with the Ezhava community, which unified under Sree Narayana Guru, she notes that similar cohesion remains elusive among other oppressed communities due to differing cultural practices and social backgrounds. “Despite sharing the same historical pain, these divisions hinder a unified socio-political force. A transformative leader like Dr B R Ambedkar is needed. Sadly, after Ambedkar, we have not seen a figure of that magnitude,” she says.
Academic Rekha Raj offers a critical reading of Kerala’s social fabric. While Keralites project progressiveness in public, caste continues to operate covertly, particularly in the preservation of customs. Caste discourse re-emerged in the 1970s when dalit communities began engaging with Ambedkar’s writings and questioning land reforms, spatial segregation, and limited access to political power.
“Dismantling caste discrimination is not solely the responsibility of dalit communities. Upper-caste and socially organized communities need to critically examine their entrenched privilege. Failure to do so reflects a lack of intellectual and moral progress,” she says.
Social anthropologist Dr Anil Gopi of MG University points to a telling paradox: Communities historically marginalized by upper-caste groups now sometimes seek ritual services from them, believing this elevates their social status. In reality, he argues, this represents an unknowing submission to the very system that oppressed them, making it harder to identify discrimination that persists.
“At one point, it may appear that untouchability has withdrawn from the public arena as people from various castes interact in secular and religious contexts. But this does not translate into genuine equality. Even today, tribal communities are often treated as secondary or tertiary citizens,” Dr Gopi notes. He adds that caste-type discrimination is not confined to Hinduism, it manifests across religions. Increasingly, class and skin colour are becoming equally powerful tools of social marginalisation.
Meaningful change, Dr Gopi says, requires both rigorous implementation of constitutional safeguards and a grounded social movement. Without both, he warns, “the vulture of caste evils will continue to hover in our skies for years to come.”
Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author’s own.
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