Since colonial Indologists began defining us, the caste system and its allied social organizational framework have been promoted as the core defining feature of Indian civilization. According to these colonial stereotypes, Indians are obsessed with caste identity and the ‘social status’ it provides within a hierarchical ladder, leading to notions of superiority among certain classes and subsequent oppression.
This notion, fed and reinforced repeatedly over centuries, became an inalienable feature of any discussion on Indology. The same stereotypes were carried forward by various academic ideologies that dominated Indian academia—from Marxism to Postmodernism. While the outer form of their presentation kept evolving, their core conception of Indian society remained stagnant and stale.
This is not surprising, as their alienated dṛṣṭi (perspective) and prejudiced minds never allowed them to delve deeper into the sublime Indic vision of cosmic unity.
However, what is truly surprising is that we ourselves began to internalize this ‘caste’ narrative as the core essence of our civilization. This happened not only through colonial education but also among those who had long resisted such colonial stereotypes. In a strange twist of colonial exchanges, what should have been consistently exposed as the worst misrepresentation of indigenous society was, instead, accepted in post-colonial studies and even by certain sections of indigenous scholars.
Nevertheless, let me state that this issue is not confined to colonial studies alone. The most essential features of civilization and their impact on society take us to the heart of understanding the underlying principles of social dynamics. They lead us to examine social structures and the harmony embedded within them, the forces that drive social change and adaptation, and the sustaining elements that have upheld societies for millennia. Most importantly, for us, they reveal how these dynamics unfolded in the context of Indian civilization over several centuries.
Aravindan Neelakandan, the well-known erudite scholar takes us with his new book titled A Dharmic Social History of India on a 5000-year-long journey of Indian civilization, dealing with the crucial topic of social dynamism that has shaped and molded Indian society. It provides unparalleled insights into how our society has dealt with various changes and sustained itself with harmony and peaceful coexistence. The importance and seriousness of this book are underscored by the Vedic scholar, Dr. R. Rangan, in the wonderful preface of this book:
“We are, as a nation and civilization, at a critical juncture. Many biased and malicious-intentioned works, both in academic institutions and media, blame Hindu Dharma for the social exclusion of marginalized communities and their sufferings. This confuses thinking and righteous-minded Hindu youths as to what is the real nature of Hindu Dharma with respect to the question of social inequalities and social liberation. For such perplexed Hindu youths, this book is ambrosia. To the thinking and conscientious Hindu youths, this book brings awareness about the matchless contribution of Hindu saints in uplifting the downtrodden and shows this as the path to be continued in the future. If we do not follow this path, we will certainly perish.”
This book is certainly a guiding force for seekers in clarifying one of the most distorted areas in Indic studies—social structure and harmony in India.
The contribution of any writer is gauged and found impactful when he provides a new perspective or ‘paradigm shifts’ in our existing framework, introducing key concepts that can reorient us in our exploration. Aravindan has done precisely this in his analysis of India’s social dynamics. A subject that has been framed only through Western universalism—imposing the eternal binary of oppressor and oppressed—is thoroughly challenged and demolished. He leads us, through scores of evidence, to a fresh perspective on society, using an evolutionary paradigm along with a Dharmic framework—a task that has never been attempted before and is therefore unique in its scope and exploration.
Stratification and De-stratification
He introduces two social forces that have shaped social dynamics over centuries in India, or for that matter, in any civilization—the forces that bring social stagnation and those that lead to social emancipation.
Society remains in flux, continuously changing, adapting, and reconfiguring due to various historical reasons. The forces of social stagnation often lead to rigidity, prejudices, and disharmony in society. On the other hand, the forces of social emancipation result in freedom, openness, flexibility, and harmony. How these forces have played out in India is the core theme of this book.
In a way, Aravindan uses the traditional taxonomy of Śruti and Smṛti to explore how Indian society has navigated the various ups and downs of its social journey. This wise and powerful taxonomy has allowed Indian society to remain anchored to absolute truth while also helping it navigate inevitable social changes over centuries. The Śruti texts—primarily the Vedas—have anchored Indians to the ultimate goal of life, rooted in the vision of cosmic unity and non-dual consciousness. The transmission of these texts has kept the core wisdom alive and intact. On the other hand, the Smṛti texts—primarily the Dharmaśāstras and Smṛtis—were meant to guide society through various changes. They take into account continuous changes and respond to them through various prescriptions, depending on deśa (space), kāla (time), and paristhiti (circumstances). However, in this book, the author has relied on the historically contingent practices of the living spiritual tradition, rather than textual tradition of Dharmaśāstras, as the guiding force for social dynamics.
This unique division of the knowledge system has neither deviated Indian society from its fundamental principles nor allowed it to become a ‘hotchpotch’ of multiculturalism, a mass of confused identities. On the contrary, Indian society neither got stuck in an idealized past nor became rigidly obsessed with blindly following ancient rules.
India’s Forgotten Social Revolution
Indian society has witnessed the negative impact of social stagnation but has tried to overcome them with the liberating forces of social emancipation, rooted in dharmic practices. Unlike the history of the Western world, which is full of disruptions and studded with revolutionary movements to bring changes in society, Indian society has always believed in gradual and subtle changes, integrating transformations in a non-violent and harmonious manner. Aravindan aptly brings this to our notice:
“While most revolutions that defined the modern age—from the French Revolution to the Maoist Great Leap—have generated extreme human misery and violence, and their effects were short-lived, the revolution that the Bhagavad Gītā was a part of, namely bhakti, became the most sustained social transformational movement against the human societal tendencies towards social stagnation and social exclusion. This unfolded through the history of India, through millennia, in a unique decolonized way.”
This important insight captures the Indic way of social transformation, which is mostly ignored by intellectuals in social studies. Even a superficial glance at the existing literature on Indian social history reveals numerous invasions, but hardly any violent revolutions from within that caused large-scale disruptions. It is a strange neglect from the perspective of modern academic studies on Indology, where tons of material have been published regarding discrimination and oppression in Indian society.
In this context, it is pertinent to mention the work of Martin Malia, History’s Locomotives: Revolutions and the Making of the Modern World, which documents revolutions in the Western world as engines of social change and the havoc they wrought. It makes us ponder how the Indic way managed to shape a trajectory different from that of the West and the reasons behind it.
Universality of Social Straitification and Western Hypocrisy
A series of myths that Aravindan debunks while analyzing the standard model of Indian social history is quite illuminating. The first myth he exposes is the claim that dividing society into groups or castes is an exclusively Indian phenomenon. This idea of exceptionalism has been promoted by colonial scholars as well as their indigenous opponents. Aravindan refutes this notion by providing examples of hierarchical social divisions across the world. He argues that all pre-modern societies had some form of birth-based social stratification, often leading to discrimination. This is evident even in a cursory glance at occupational groups in medieval Europe, many of which persist today in surnames such as Barber, Taylor, Butcher, Smith, and Cooper.
Every pre-modern society created social divisions based on occupation, primarily for the smooth functioning of the economy. Guilds and community organizations were responsible for the effective distribution of resources. In many societies across the world, these birth-based divisions led to the worst forms of oppression, often justified in the name of racism and theology. The author narrates many such examples: from medieval Europe, where the hardship of peasants and serfs was justified as atonement for their sins; to Islamic society, which divided people into Ashraf and Ajlaf based on lineage traced to the Prophet Muhammad; to China, where the Hukou system has perpetuated serfdom even in the 21st century, leading to widespread exploitation.
Such examples can be multiplied abound in case studies of various other civilizations, where social divisions led to stagnation but were often ignored or brushed under the carpet. The irony is that while a massive academic industry has emerged to make Hindus feel guilty about social stratification, other societies are seldom discussed, merely acknowledged in passing, or their injustices completely ignored. However, lest it be misunderstood, the injustices in other societies do not justify those in India.
Hence, one must study societies using the framework suggested in this book and reflect on what prevails in the long run in India—whether it is the forces of social stagnation or those of social emancipation. A comparative study of civilizations can provide more clarity on universal social dynamics. Aravindan pertinently observes:
“In fact, it can be said that no other religious/spiritual tradition has consistently questioned the social status quo through its spiritual values as Hindu Dharma has done. In the West, social stratification became irrelevant when colonialism brought in the vast inflow of capital and a huge expansion of land and natural resources… In other words, the apparent egalitarianism seen today in the West has come at a great cost to all of humanity in terms of extreme misery and suffering. It has been obtained by the West only as a transactional exchange in human suffering. The consequences of this transfer of human misery continue well into the present centuries.”
Therefore, it was not altruism but rather the shifting of exploitation from their own people to the others that enabled the West to eradicate slavery. Is this model of social emancipation valid for all times? Is the Western approach—converting slavery into indentured labor and, subsequently, seeking cheap labor across the world—a sustainable model of social emancipation? Or are there alternative ways, perhaps Indic ways, to overcome the forces of social stagnation? Aravindan raises fundamental questions regarding social injustices and their long-term solutions.
In exploring these questions, he proposes an urgent need for Hindu Social Sciences from a dharmic perspective, rooted in indigenous traditions. This age-old knowledge system must be integrated with insights from modern biological sciences, shedding light on the evolutionary nature of social dynamism and its functions across not only human societies but other life forms as well. In this context, the author mentions the works of J.B.S. Haldane, Nirmal Kumar Bose, and others, directing us toward an alternative approach to social studies. These scholars particularly emphasize the integration of the Puruṣārtha framework—the multiple goals of life—with evolutionary dynamics, highlighting the Hindu model of harmonizing differences, leading to unity in multiplicity. Such integration is essential because “It emphasizes the connection of culture with basic human needs and desires… which underlies all cultural phenomena.”
Re-interpreting Harappan Society
Another dominant narrative propagated through the colonial framework is that inequities and social injustice have been embedded in Hindu society from the very beginning. Whether one considers primordial texts like the Vedas or the first Indian civilization, such as the Harappa, both are alleged to have laid the foundation for centuries of discrimination.
Thus, it is argued that the worst forms of inequality are rooted in the original Hindu scriptures, thereby denying any scope for later accretions or misinterpretations. As a consequence, it is proposed that the only remedy to this evil is that the entire foundation of Hinduism must be “dismantled” or, in academic terms, “deconstructed” to liberate the masses. The typical template for any social revolutionary is thus ready to be worked upon—no need for further analysis.
Seen from this perspective then, Harappan society has always been depicted as a “totalitarian and oppressive regime” controlled by Brahmins, leaving no scope for individual creativity and leading to “monotonous regularity.” Scholars do not mince words in expressing their disdain for Harappa, as reflected in this statement by Stuart Piggott: “I can only say that there is something in the Harappa civilization that I find repellent.” (42)
Drawing inspiration from exclusive religious frameworks, these scholars cannot digest the assimilative nature of Hindu society. For them, Brahmanism is all-encompassing and, therefore, threatening. The author highlights the intense hatred of some of these writers by quoting Caldwell’s apprehension: “Brahmanism repudiates exclusiveness; it incorporates all creeds, assimilates all, consecrates all… thus Brahmanism yields and conquers.” (44)
In contrast to such depictions, recent studies borrowing insights from archaeology, genetics, linguistic modeling, and cultural anthropology present a far more nuanced and multipronged picture. Harappan society is now shown to have had a decentralized structure, with a continuous flow of information and goods across hundreds of miles, built on an exceptional social framework that was both dynamic and harmonious. Aravindan, through various studies, demonstrates the reciprocal nature of resource distribution, indicating an egalitarian society rooted in complex cultural dynamism. He summarizes: “What emerges is a picture of a multilingual, non-monocultural Harappan civilization, one that embodies the spirit of unity in diversity that has been present in this land since ancient times.” (58)
The Concept of Yajña
If the reality contradicts colonial stereotypes, then the author raises very pertinent queries, stating:
“Had Harappan society been characterized only by hierarchical authority, solely based on ritual power and heredity in a pyramidal manner, as the Varṇa system is often characterized, then it would have displayed the power and splendor of the upper sections of society in sharp contrast to the deprived sections. Archaeological data does not suggest such a gulf dividing the society. For a society to function for millennia, there must have been a system of reciprocal redistribution. What was it? Can we identify it?”
In response, he presents the most important insight of the book. He argues that the decentralized nature of society and its reciprocal exchanges of resources were driven by the concept of Yajña and Yajamāna, which later reflected in the Indic tradition of the Yajamānī system. Any Indic seeker can connect to the deeper imagery and symbolism of Yajña. The ritual of Yajña holds multilayered associations in the Indic mind, ranging from sacred offerings to the elevation of even the most mundane tasks to larger social and cosmic goals. For us, every righteous task undertaken is an āhuti (offering) for cosmic welfare. The author observes: “Yajña, or the Vedic fire ritual, forms an archetypal basis for Indian civilization. It is not just about offering material things to various deities, but it is also the co-creation of the Universe as a continued process.” (77)
Aravindan connects these connotations through various Harappan studies conducted by less prejudiced minds, highlighting insights from eminent scholars like J. Kenoyer, Jane McIntosh, P. Parthasarathi, and B. Kovler. These scholars emphasize that Harappan civilization must have been based on “relationships of reciprocal exchange,” in which “all members of the community have reciprocal obligations to provide the products of their labors.” They often ponder how such an amorphous system—“semi-hierarchical, semi-heterarchical“—could have existed and functioned smoothly.
Yajña serves as an archetypal basis for all reciprocal exchanges, rooted in the vision of cosmic unity, where every activity becomes a Yajna. In the words of the author:
“Fine arts, dance, drama, and all other activities become Yajña. This means that a dancer, a carpenter, a farmer, a merchant, a barber, a washerman, a potter, and all other professions can be the Brahmin performers of their Yajña, and those who utilize their skills and knowledge become Yajamāna. This Yajña archetype behind every vocation has the potential to make all work sacred and none defiled. This also means that social exclusion and social aristocracy can be challenged by such a value system whenever social stagnation leads them to inhuman proportions.”
The metaphor of Yajña emerges as a powerful force of social inclusion and, when needed, a spiritual tool for social emancipation—a tool that laid the foundation of Vedic society, driven by the utmost compassion to integrate all and exclude none. Therefore, quoting isolated passages to justify discrimination amounts to a falsification of the true spirit of Sanātana Dharma.
Aravindan thus corrects the misleading use of the Puruṣa Sūkta and exposes the hidden agenda behind its nefarious misinterpretation. He highlights Dr. Ambedkar’s research, particularly his assertion that this sūkta is a cosmogonic hymn rather than a social verdict. Additionally, he underscores the primacy of Dharma over all Varṇas, as stated in the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad, to dispel any misconceptions of superiority among social groups—a point highly relevant to discussions of social inclusion.
Origins of the Buddhist-Hindu Divide Narrative
The next colonial narrative that became entrenched in Indian academia is the portrayal of Buddhism as a reformist movement in India, ultimately liberating the masses from the tyranny of Brahmanical oppression. Colonial scholars, rooted in Christianity, felt more comfortable dealing with prophetic Buddhism despite its origins in so-called ‘heathendom.’ They mapped this onto their Western universalist framework, positioning Buddhism as the Protestant equivalent in India, with the divine task of uprooting the Brahmanical priesthood, much like Protestantism sought to challenge the Catholic Church. This resulted in what the author describes as “the creation of a Buddha of ancient India that was more Christological and Lutheran in nature.”
In this colonial zeal to rewrite Indian history, Aravindan aptly points out: “The more Buddha is portrayed as a Lutheran figure, the more Hinduism is depicted as an oppressive religion” (101). This distortion, like many other colonial attempts to create fault lines in India, did not remain confined to academia and had pernicious repercussions on the ground. If Buddhism was portrayed as more Christ-like, then Bodh Gaya was also promoted as the ‘Jerusalem’ or ‘Mecca’ of Buddhism, supposedly held in the clutches of a regressive Hindu community. The author narrates the role of Anagarika Dharmapala, a Sri Lankan Buddhist scholar, who dedicated his life to following in the footsteps of colonial masters. Through his magazine, The Mahā Bodhi, he consistently depicted Hindus as encroachers, steeped in ignorance and superstition, arguing that they must be expelled from Bodh Gayā.
This section of the book is an eye-opener, exposing various layers of colonial hatred, which were enthusiastically adopted by certain indigenous scholars. This narrative ultimately contributed to the massacre of thousands in Sri Lanka and paved the way for the contemporary diabolical propaganda of the neo-Buddhist Ambedkarite movement in India. To grasp the full extent of this false narrative, one must read the following passage:
“Bodh Gayā can thus be considered one of the main fountainheads of the genesis of the modern deep schism between Buddhist and Hindu identities, with particularly far-reaching consequences for the Tamil (mainly Hindu) minority in the island nation of Sri Lanka. A reinvented Buddhist identity, shaped through colonial Indological frameworks, served as its religious fulcrum in the Sinhalese racial political revival. This was inevitably accompanied by an anti-Hindu sentiment, which became a significant, albeit not exclusive, catalyst for what would become, in post-colonial Sri Lanka, a protracted civil war. The conflict was characterized by numerous anti-Tamil pogroms, military aggression and abuse against Tamil civilians, and suicide bombings orchestrated by the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), targeting Sinhalese civilians and leaders. The conflict further escalated with the assassination of a former Indian Prime Minister on Indian soil by an LTTE suicide bomber, the recruitment of child soldiers by the LTTE, and their use of Tamil civilians as human shields. The Sinhalese army’s actions included aerial bombing of civilian targets, including designated safe zones, systematic sexual violence, and the execution of not only surrendered Tamil fighters but also civilians. The conflict culminated in the infamous Mullivaikkal Holocaust of 2009, which resulted in the massacre of over 30,000 Tamils, predominantly Hindus. This event underscores the devastating human cost of this conflict.”
Is Buddhism Egalitarian?
The final narrative in this series, one closely related to the Lutheran Buddha framework, is the claim that Buddhist texts and discourse always advocated equality, never differentiating between communities. Aravindan refutes this claim using primary scriptures such as the Vinaya Piṭaka, the Lalitavistāra Sūtra, and the Ambaṭṭha Sutta, demonstrating that conceptions of high and low birth-based stratification existed in Buddhism from the time of the Buddha himself.
In fact, he argues that birth-based divisions only deepened due to the ‘defilement’ of certain occupations such as scavenging, hunting, cart-pulling, and weaving. He makes a compelling case for the unintended consequences of ‘certain ethical excesses,’ which stemmed from an exclusive focus on ahimsa (non-violence), even in worldly affairs. This perspective, he asserts, shaped Buddhist attitudes and perceptions toward many of these castes (129). In this context, the Belgian Indologist Dr. Koenraad Elst’s talk on Buddha and Egalitarianism, available on the YouTube channel of the Centre for Indic Studies, is highly pertinent.
The author also explores how this defilement of certain occupations contributed to the institutionalization of slavery within Buddhist monasteries. He provides historical examples ranging from the Buddhist communities of ancient Mathura to the Pagodā slaves of Myanmar. This must be understood in the context of the centralization of monastic culture, where hundreds of monks lived together, necessitating the presence of ‘attendants’ from the time of the Buddha himself. The historical evidence of a Buddhist-led social reform movement is almost nonexistent. This is evident to the Indian mind, which has never viewed the Buddha as a social reformer but rather as a spiritual mentor. Aravindan pertinently quotes Dr. B.R. Ambedkar: “When the Buddha differed from the Vedic Brahmins, he did so only in matters of creed but left the Hindu legal framework intact. He did not propound a separate law for his followers.”
Aravindan presents a broader societal reality while discussing this issue, summarizing it in the following words:
“Social inferiorization, as well as social exclusion of communities, is found in Buddhist societies both in South Asia and in other Asian countries. This should be seen more as a complex interaction of Buddhist worldviews, values, and the social evolution of localized settings. Similar trends in social evolution were present in pre- and early-modern Christendom. Hence, this is in no way peculiar to Buddhist societies. The problem arises because of the constant portrayal of Buddhism as an egalitarian movement while simultaneously essentializing non-Buddhist Hinduism as almost nothing but ‘Brahminical’ superiority.”
The essentialization of one community over another—pitting them against each other—has been a time-tested template of colonial forces. This manufactured narrative of Hindu-Buddhist antagonism is a clear reflection of such colonial strategies. The author has brilliantly deconstructed these distortions using primary evidence and historical facts, providing readers with a deeper understanding of social dynamics. He first dismantles the false narratives that have become deeply entrenched in academia and media, making it nearly impossible for any seeker to comprehend the true picture of Indian society. He then moves towards reconstructing an Indic perspective on social dynamics, presenting an understanding untainted by colonial prejudices.
Reconstructing the Indic Narrative of Social Justice
After busting these four popular myths that are deeply entrenched in academia, he takes us on a journey through India’s social history from a Dhārmika lens. Without denying the existence of social stagnation in India, he examines the broader spectrum of social emancipation, which has acted as an inherent corrective mechanism to overcome hate, prejudice, and discrimination in Indian society.
While discussing the trajectory of Indian social history, one must not forget that India is the oldest civilization, with a continuous existence of various living traditions for thousands of years. This implies that any social study conducted through a mono-prismatic and exclusive lens will inevitably lead to gross simplifications and distortions.
Need for an Indic Framework
Indian social history demands the rigor necessary to explore the complexities of civilization without surrendering to fashionable ideologies, which are often driven by motives to destabilize Indian society. This exploration makes sense only if we go to the roots of Hindu civilization—the foundational principles of social structure, based on the cosmic vision of the Vedas. We have also hinted that the concept of Yajña and the co-creation of cosmic and social reality have been archetypal for Indian tradition. This archetype, rooted in the Vedas and nurtured through the presence of self-realized souls, has continually transformed the ideal of cosmic unity into social egalitarianism. The concept of Yajna gave birth to many other spiritual archetypes in India, one of which is the illustrious Bhakti tradition, found in every nook and cranny of the country, binding devotees into spiritual communion through their intense yearning for the beloved deity. Aravindan highlights this:
“Bhakti is portrayed as a remarkable civilizational endeavour aimed at rectifying any doctrinal corruption. It laid the foundation for future social movements in India, ranging from Khalsa to Gandhi. While social emancipation was not the primary objective of Bhakti, it inevitably brought about societal liberation as a natural consequence with minimal or almost nil violence and sustained community elevation.” (142)
It must be emphasized and appreciated that Aravindan has rightly pointed out that the purpose of Bhakti is not to bring about social reforms; therefore, it should not be seen as a “movement” in which one section of society leads a “revolt” against another. Social emancipation happens naturally around those who selflessly pursue the path of divinity, merging themselves with the ‘ekam sat’ and embodying the principle of oneness. The presence of self-realized souls, who have transcended all social identifications and focus on the ultimate divine within, has challenged social stagnation and the status quo by repeatedly questioning the act of social exclusion.
Bhagavad Gītā – A Guide for Social Emancipation
The author underscores the importance of the Bhagavad Gītā and the Mahābhārata, in continuation of Vedic wisdom, in making us realize the complex dynamics of society, the inherent fluidity of social changes, and the resultant inadequacy of imposing fixed categories. Through various dialogic narratives, the Mahābhārata repeatedly highlights the rigidity of varṇa classifications, challenging the simplistic notion of birth-based stratification.
One of the key inquiries is the essential defining traits of a Brahmin. This question is posed repeatedly, emphasizing that “conduct, practice, and qualities” are the primary markers for social identification rather than birth. The famous story of Dharmavyādha, in which a butcher, by diligently following his worldly duties, attains enlightenment and becomes a mentor to a Brāhmaṇa, reverses traditionally assigned roles. The text also makes a case for a Shudra attaining the status of a Brāhmaṇa through his conduct. At the same time, this narration, like many others in Hindu texts, elevates the status of every occupation, making all professions co-creators of social reality—unlike the Buddhist worldview. Aravindan writes: “While the Buddhist worldview demanded that butchers and meat sellers be considered untouchables, here, ‘twice-born’ people direct the Brāhmaṇa Kauśika to the meat shop of Dharmavyādha.” He further elaborates:
“In the background of the notion of noble professions and defiled trades, the epic speaks for equal nobility within all professions and trades. Every trade can be a Yajña, and in all birth-based communities, persons can be of Brāhmaṇa nature and become the authority for dharma. From them, others, however highly placed in society they might be, should learn. It is within this value system of spiritual equality that the Bhagavad Gītā is placed.”
This takes us to the philosophical discourse of the Bhagavad Gītā, embedded in the larger narrative of the Mahabharata, which expounds on the value of svadharma and svabhāva in determining social identity. This section of the book is particularly insightful in peeling the nuances woven around the concept of varṇa-saṃskāra. Aravindan highlights the central role of the Bhagavad Gita in challenging social stagnation through its continuous emphasis on “guṇa-karma-vibhāgaśaḥ” as the major determinant of jāti-varṇa. Aravindan writes:
“Viewed in this context, the choice of words in the Bhagavad Gītā (4:13), guṇa-karma-vibhāgaśaḥ (based on modalities and work) indicates a paradigm shift in a society stagnating because of worldviews that categorized hereditary (kula/jāthi) work communities as noble or defiled due to the imposition of values like ahimsa as universal. If the text were casteist or pro-casteist, it could have unambiguously declared itself as kula-janma-vibhāgaśaḥ (based on clan and birth).”
This brings us to the end of the first part of this review, where Aravindan deconstructs various myths and helps us reconstruct the Indic view of social justice, grounded in the solid pillars of Indian spiritual and textual tradition.
Conclusion
Reading A Dharmic Social History of India a reconstructing of Indic narrative of social justice has been an eye-opening journey. It challenged many preconceived notions I had encountered in mainstream discourse, replacing them with a deeper understanding of India’s organic social evolution. Aravindan’s work made me realize that social justice in the Indian context was never about radical revolutions but about silent transformations guided by spiritual wisdom. The idea that Yajña and Bhakti were not just religious concepts but civilizational forces shaping social harmony was particularly striking. The Mahābhārata’s rejection of rigid classifications through stories like Dharmavyādha forced me to rethink the simplistic narratives often imposed on India’s past. Most importantly, the emphasis on guṇa and karma over birth as determinants of social identity reaffirmed the depth of Indian philosophy. This book doesn’t just reconstruct history—it reconstructs perspectives, urging us to view Indian society through its own lens rather than borrowed ideological frameworks.
Thus as we have seen till now, how an inherent and indigenous corrective mechanism for social vices—leading to various silent “reforms” in India—has gradually taken place through the subtle presence of saints and sages, leaving no scope for the disruptive model of “revolutions.” Next, in the second part of the book review, we will explore the remaining sections of the book, where the author delineates the historical trajectory of social reforms through dozens of examples, drawing inspiration from the powerful metaphors of the Vedic Yajña and Bhakti tradition.
