The Caste Dynamics of Indian Classical Dance: From Devadasis to Brahminical Appropriation

 Indian classical dances such as Bharatanatyam, Kuchipudi, and Odissi are celebrated as timeless embodiments of India’s cultural heritage. Yet, their modern practice reveals a complex history of caste, colonialism, and cultural appropriation that has sidelined the very communities who birthed these art forms. Once performed by lower-caste women like Devadasis and Maharis, these dances are now largely dominated by upper-caste Hindus, particularly Brahmins. This shift, rooted in colonial suppression and 20th-century revivalism, underscores a troubling erasure of marginalized voices in India’s artistic legacy.

Devadasi named Gnyana of Tanjore, 19th century. She also performed at the Royapuram Station Hall at the reception held for the Prince of Wales in 1875.

Historical Roots in Marginalized Communities

Indian classical dances have deep origins in the traditions of Devadasis (in Tamil Nadu), Maharis (in Odisha), and Nautch girls, among others. These women, often from Dalit or Other Backward Classes (OBC) communities, were highly skilled in music, dance, and temple rituals. Their performances in temples and royal courts were not only artistic but also held spiritual and cultural significance. Far from the stigmatized perception they face today, Devadasis and their counterparts were once respected as custodians of sophisticated artistic traditions.

However, their caste and gender made them vulnerable to exploitation. While their roles were prestigious in certain contexts, their association with temple and courtesan traditions often placed them on society’s margins, a dynamic that would later be weaponized against them.

Colonial Suppression and Stigma

The arrival of British colonial rule in the 18th and 19th centuries marked a turning point. Through a Victorian moral lens, the British branded Devadasis and similar performers as “prostitutes,” condemning their practices as immoral. Colonial policies eroded the socio-economic systems that supported these women, dismantling their roles in temples and courts. The Devadasi Abolition Act of 1947 (and subsequent amendments) formalized this suppression, outlawing their temple performances and further stigmatizing their communities. As a result, their art forms—intricately tied to their caste, gender, and perceived sexuality—were shunned, leaving a cultural vacuum.

The Brahminical Revival: Sanitization and Appropriation

In the early 20th century, a movement to “revive” Indian classical dance emerged as part of a broader nationalist effort to reclaim cultural heritage. Figures like Rukmini Devi Arundale, a Brahmin and founder of Kalakshetra, played a pivotal role in reshaping Bharatanatyam. This revival, however, came at a cost. The dance was stripped of its erotic and folk elements, reframed as a “spiritual” and “respectable” art form suitable for urban elites and global audiences. By moving performances from temples and courtesan spaces to proscenium stages and formal institutions, the art was “sanitized” to align with upper-caste sensibilities.

This process effectively excluded the original practitioners. Upper-caste families, particularly Brahmins, began learning and teaching these dances, establishing themselves as the new custodians. State-funded academies, cultural sabhas, and dance schools—often controlled by upper-caste networks—further entrenched this shift, sidelining Devadasi descendants and other marginalized communities.

Why Upper-Caste Dominance Persists

Today, the ecosystem of Indian classical dance remains predominantly upper-caste, especially Brahmin-dominated, for several reasons:

1. Access and Privilege: Upper-caste families often have the financial resources, leisure time, and social networks to pursue and promote classical dance. Training, costumes, and performance opportunities require significant investment, which excludes many from marginalized backgrounds.
2. Cultural Gatekeeping: The guru-shishya (teacher-student) tradition, concert halls (sabhas), and institutional frameworks are largely controlled by upper-caste practitioners. These gatekeepers often dictate who can access training and performance spaces, marginalizing lower-caste artists.
3. Persistent Stigma: Descendants of Devadasi and similar communities face ongoing social and economic stigma, which discourages their participation in the “respectable” world of classical dance. Their historical association with sensuality and caste-based prejudice further alienates them.
4. Erasure in Education: The curricula and syllabi of dance institutions rarely acknowledge the contributions of Devadasis or other marginalized groups. The “classical” label, with its emphasis on purity and tradition, obscures the dances’ roots in lower-caste and folk traditions.

The Irony of “Classical” Dance

The irony is stark: the women whose traditions formed the backbone of Indian classical dance are now largely excluded from its practice and recognition. The “classicization” of these art forms has erased their complex histories of caste, gender, and sexuality, presenting a sanitized version that aligns with upper-caste values. This appropriation not only marginalizes Devadasi descendants but also distorts the rich, diverse origins of these dances.

Resistance and Reclamation

In recent years, a growing movement has sought to address this injustice. Dalit and Bahujan artists, alongside scholars like Saskia Kersenboom, Vijaya Ramaswamy, and Davesh Soneji, have worked to document the contributions of marginalized communities and challenge casteism in the arts. Their efforts highlight the need for inclusive dance education and caste-aware pedagogy. Grassroots initiatives are slowly creating space for lower-caste artists to reclaim their heritage, though systemic barriers remain formidable.

Moving Forward

The dominance of upper-caste Hindus in Indian classical dance is a legacy of colonial disruption and Brahminical appropriation, but it is not an immutable reality. Acknowledging the contributions of Devadasis, Maharis, and other marginalized women is a critical first step. Institutions must prioritize inclusive access, diversify their leadership, and integrate honest historical narratives into their curricula. Only then can Indian classical dance truly reflect the richness of its origins—a vibrant tapestry woven by artists of all castes and backgrounds.

By confronting its casteist past and present, the world of Indian classical dance can honor its true custodians and reclaim its place as a universal art form, rooted in resilience, creativity, and diversity.

The Roots of India’s Religious Tensions: A Class and Caste Divide

India’s religious conflicts—Hindu-Muslim, Hindu-Christian, or otherwise—are often framed as ideological or cultural clashes. However, at their core, these tensions are deeply intertwined with class and caste dynamics, where the wealthy elite, historically upper-caste Hindus, have perpetuated a system that marginalizes the poor, regardless of their religious affiliation. This divide, rooted in centuries of social hierarchy, continues to shape India’s socio-political landscape today.

Historical Context: Caste, Conversion, and Class

Before the arrival of Islam in India, Hindu society was stratified by the caste system, with Brahmins (priests) and Kshatriyas (warriors) wielding power and wealth. The lower castes, particularly Dalits and other marginalized groups, faced systemic exclusion, denied access to resources, education, or dignity. The arrival of Islam, beginning around the 7th century, offered an alternative for some. Many low-caste Hindus converted to Islam, seeking escape from the rigid caste hierarchy. Conversion was not just a spiritual choice but a desperate bid for social mobility, a chance to break free from the shackles of Brahmanical oppression.

Similarly, when the Portuguese arrived in 1498, bringing Jesuit missionaries, another wave of conversions began. The converts were, again, largely from the lower castes—Dalits and other oppressed groups who had little to lose. Terms like “rice bag converts,” though derogatory today, reflect a grim historical reality: for many, a bag of rice was worth more than the Hinduism that had marginalized them for generations. These conversions were acts of survival, not betrayal.

The rise of the trader class (Baniya) under Portuguese and later British influence further complicated the social fabric. While the Baniyas gained economic prominence, the Brahmins and Kshatriyas retained their social dominance, often becoming landlords under British colonial rule. The poor—whether Hindu, Muslim, or Christian—remained at the bottom, their marginalization unchanged by shifts in political power.

The Persistence of Caste Across Religions

A critical aspect of this dynamic is that caste does not vanish with conversion. In India, caste is not merely a religious construct but a social and historical marker of oppression. Converting to Islam or Christianity did not erase the stigma of being a “low-caste” individual. Muslim and Christian communities in India often replicate caste hierarchies, with “upper-caste” converts or those from historically privileged backgrounds maintaining dominance over “lower-caste” converts. This persistence of caste underscores how deeply entrenched social inequalities are, transcending religious boundaries.

The wealthy, upper-caste Hindus, who historically controlled land and resources, continued to view the poor—whether Hindu, Muslim, or Christian—with disdain. This contempt was not rooted in religion alone but in a desire to maintain the status quo of power and privilege. The poor, regardless of their faith, were seen as threats to the established order, especially when they sought social or economic upliftment.

The Modern Political Landscape: Wealth, Caste, and the BJP

Fast forward to today, and the same dynamics play out in India’s political arena. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), a right-wing Hindu nationalist party, enjoys significant support among wealthy, upper-caste Hindus. This is no coincidence. The BJP’s ideology, which emphasizes Hindu unity and cultural nationalism, often glosses over caste and class inequalities, appealing to those who benefit from the existing social order. These supporters—many of whom are Brahmins, Kshatriyas, or Baniyas—oppose measures like a caste census or policies aimed at reducing wealth inequality, as these threaten their entrenched privileges.

The disdain for converts, lower castes, and the poor remains evident in the rhetoric of Hindu nationalism. Terms like “converts” or “rice bag” are weaponized to dehumanize those who, historically and presently, have been pushed to the margins. The resistance to a caste census, which would expose the extent of social and economic disparities, is a clear attempt to maintain the status quo. Wealthy Hindus, aligned with the BJP, benefit from a system where caste and class hierarchies remain unchallenged, and religious divisions are stoked to distract from deeper inequalities.

Reframing the Narrative

India’s religious tensions are not merely about theological differences or cultural pride. They are, at their heart, a manifestation of class and caste struggles. The wealthy elite, historically upper-caste Hindus, have long perpetuated a system that marginalizes the poor, whether they are Hindu, Muslim, Christian, or otherwise. Conversions to Islam or Christianity were often acts of resistance against this oppression, driven by the hope of a better life, even if that hope was as modest as a bag of rice.

To address India’s religious and social divides, we must confront the root cause: the persistent inequality between the wealthy and the poor, the upper castes and the lower. A caste census, wealth redistribution, and policies that prioritize the marginalized are essential steps toward dismantling this centuries-old hierarchy. Only by acknowledging and addressing these structural inequalities can India move toward true unity, beyond the superficial divides of religion.

The Cunning Integration of Buddha as an Avatar of Vishnu: A Historical and Cultural Analysis

 The transformation of Gautama Buddha, the founder of Buddhism, into an avatar of Vishnu, a central deity in Hinduism, is a fascinating example of religious syncretism and strategic cultural assimilation. This phenomenon, often seen as a cunning maneuver by Brahminical thinkers, reflects the complex interplay of religious ideologies in ancient India. While Buddha himself never claimed to be an avatar of Vishnu, nor is such a concept found in early Buddhist texts, the idea gained traction in later Hindu traditions. The earliest clear literary reference to Buddha as one of Vishnu’s dashāvatāra (ten incarnations) appears in the Viṣṇu Purāṇa (3.18), composed around the 4th–5th century CE, a period when Buddhism was ascendant and Hindu authors sought to subsume it within a Vaishnava framework. This article explores the historical context, motivations, and mechanisms behind this appropriation, highlighting the absence of such claims in pre-Mahayana Buddhism and the strategic brilliance of Brahminical adaptation.

The Historical Context: Buddhism’s Rise and Hindu Response

By the 4th–5th century CE, Buddhism had established itself as a formidable spiritual and institutional force in India. With royal patronage from figures like Emperor Ashoka and the flourishing of monastic centers like Nalanda, Buddhism posed a significant challenge to Brahminical authority. Its egalitarian teachings, rejection of caste hierarchies, and critique of Vedic rituals threatened the socio-religious dominance of the Brahmin class. However, rather than outright opposition, Brahminical thinkers adopted a more subtle and ingenious strategy: co-opting Buddhist ideas and figures into the Hindu fold.

The Viṣṇu Purāṇa, a key Vaishnava text, marks a pivotal moment in this process. By listing Buddha as the ninth avatar of Vishnu, alongside figures like Rama and Krishna, the text reframed the historical Buddha as a divine manifestation within the Hindu pantheon. This was not an isolated effort but part of a broader trend of syncretism, where Hindu texts began to integrate elements of rival traditions, including Jainism and Buddhism, to neutralize their ideological threat and appeal to a wider audience.

Absence in Early Buddhist Traditions

To understand the audacity of this move, it’s crucial to note that neither Gautama Buddha nor early Buddhist texts ever suggested a connection to Vishnu or any Vedic deity. The Buddha, as depicted in the Pali Canon (the earliest Buddhist scriptures, compiled around the 1st century BCE), presented himself as a human teacher who attained enlightenment through his own efforts. His teachings emphasized the Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path, and the rejection of metaphysical speculation about gods or divine incarnations. Pre-Mahayana Buddhism, rooted in Theravada traditions, focused on individual liberation (nirvana) and had no concept of avatars or divine incarnations.

Even in early Mahayana Buddhism, which emerged around the 1st century CE and introduced more devotional elements, the Buddha was elevated to a cosmic or transcendent figure but never linked to Vishnu or Vaishnavism. Texts like the Lotus Sutra or Prajñāpāramitā emphasize the Buddha’s universal compassion and wisdom, not his identity as a Hindu deity’s incarnation. The absence of any such claim in Buddhist literature underscores the unilateral nature of the Hindu appropriation.

The Viṣṇu Purāṇa and the Dashāvatāra Framework

The Viṣṇu Purāṇa, composed in a period of intense religious competition, provides the earliest explicit reference to Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu. In Book 3, Chapter 18, it lists the dashāvatāra, with Buddha appearing as the ninth incarnation. The text describes Vishnu incarnating as Buddha to delude certain beings (often interpreted as demons or heretics) into abandoning Vedic rituals, thereby ensuring their downfall. This portrayal is double-edged: it acknowledges Buddha’s influence while subtly undermining his teachings as a deceptive ploy within a Hindu cosmological narrative.

This depiction reflects a strategic narrative crafted by Brahminical authors. By integrating Buddha into the dashāvatāra, they achieved several objectives:

1. Neutralizing a Rival: By subsuming Buddha into the Hindu pantheon, Brahminical thinkers diminished the independent authority of Buddhism. The Buddha was no longer a separate religious founder but a subordinate figure within Vaishnavism.
2. Appealing to Buddhists: The inclusion of Buddha as an avatar made Vaishnavism more palatable to Buddhist laypeople, facilitating conversions or syncretic practices. This was particularly effective in regions where Buddhism and Hinduism coexisted, such as the Gupta Empire.
3. Reasserting Vedic Supremacy: The Viṣṇu Purāṇa’s narrative often portrays Buddha’s teachings as a deliberate distortion of Vedic truth, meant to mislead the unworthy. This allowed Brahmins to maintain the superiority of Vedic traditions while explaining Buddhism’s popularity.

The Broader Strategy of Syncretism

The inclusion of Buddha in the dashāvatāra was not an isolated act but part of a larger pattern of Brahminical adaptation. Similar strategies were applied to other non-Vedic traditions. For instance, Jainism’s Tirthankaras were occasionally equated with Vishnu’s avatars, and local deities were absorbed into the Hindu pantheon as manifestations of Vishnu or Shiva. This syncretism was facilitated by the flexible framework of avatāra, which allowed Hindu theologians to incorporate diverse figures into a unified theological narrative.

Later texts, such as the Bhāgavata Purāṇa (8th–10th century CE), further refined this narrative, presenting a more positive view of Buddha as a compassionate teacher who preached non-violence. This evolution reflects the changing dynamics of religious competition, as Buddhism’s influence waned and Hinduism sought to consolidate its dominance.

The Cunning Brilliance of the Move

The appropriation of Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu was a masterstroke of religious strategy. It required no endorsement from Buddhist texts or communities, relying instead on the authority of Brahminical scriptures to reshape public perception. By embedding Buddha within the dashāvatāra, Brahminical thinkers transformed a rival figure into a symbol of Hindu inclusivity, while simultaneously subordinating his teachings to a Vaishnava worldview.

This move also exploited the fluidity of Indian religious identity. In a culture where devotion to multiple deities and teachers was common, presenting Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu blurred the boundaries between Buddhism and Hinduism, encouraging syncretic practices that favored Hindu dominance. Over time, this narrative contributed to the marginalization of Buddhism in India, as Hindu traditions absorbed Buddhist art, iconography, and even sacred sites like Bodh Gaya.

Conclusion

The integration of Gautama Buddha as an avatar of Vishnu, first articulated in the Viṣṇu Purāṇa around the 4th–5th century CE, exemplifies the cunning adaptability of Brahminical thinkers in the face of Buddhism’s ascendancy. Absent from early Buddhist texts and never claimed by the Buddha himself, this idea was a unilateral Hindu innovation designed to neutralize a rival tradition, appeal to Buddhist followers, and reassert Vedic supremacy. Through the dashāvatāra framework, Brahmins crafted a narrative that not only subsumed Buddha into the Hindu pantheon but also reshaped the religious landscape of ancient India. This strategic syncretism highlights the dynamic and often competitive nature of religious evolution, where ideas, figures, and traditions are continually negotiated and redefined.