Land Rights of the Paraiyars : A Critique of the ‘Golden Age of the Pariah’ in
Eighteenth Century Tamilnadu
Recent writings on India‘s colonial past have often tended to disconnect it from
its pre-colonial past. All these have been done to construct incompatible exogenous and
indigenous principles of social organization. ‗Indigenism‘, as has been argued by some
scholars tended to harmonize the pre-colonial past. Ravi Ahuja has argued that obsession
with abstract cultural principles (which has often been described as primordial
phenomenon) was possibly one of the reason behind the lack of interest in empirical
research concerned with the material conditions of human existence and with the
relations with human beings as they evolved from these concrete historical conditions.
The mid as well as the late eighteenth century in south India was a transitional period
between the pre-colonial and the colonial regimes. Undoubtedly, as many historians have
argued, this period was marked by both problems of continuity and change. Some of the
forms of subordinating labour which were prevalent in the old order proved to be
compatible with colonial conditions and there were others which failed to survive in the
colonial period and gave way to new forms which were created.1
Studies on eighteenth century labour relations in south India have mostly focused
on the conditions of weavers employed in the export oriented commercial manufactures
and as such their situation were often taken to be the representative for all artisanal
occupations.2 Few historians have dealt with the conditions of textile craftsmen such as
the spinners and bleachers. Other skilled artisans such as carpenters and smiths, brick
makers, miners or quarrymen have caught even less attention. However, most researches
on the Tamil regions agrarian society have dealt with the structure and distribution of
land rights, which were a formative, yet not the only element on the productive relations
agricultural labourers were involved in.3
1
For more details, see Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context : Madras, c. 1750-
1800‖ in Modern Asian Studies, 36, 4, (2002), pp. 793-796.
2
See Prasannan Parthasarathi, ―Rethinking Wages and Competitiveness in the Eighteenth Century : Britain
and South India‖ in Past and Present, No. 158, February 1998, pp. 79-82.
3
Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, pp. 793-796.
1
Significantly, the distinction between ‗free‘ and ‗unfree‘ labour has often been
employed to understand the highly differentiated complex of labour relations in
eighteenth century Madras. In fact, this has been so despite Gyan Prakash‘s rejection of
these terms in the Indian context.4 However, there has been a propensity to explain the
structure of labour relations in eighteenth century Madras by taking into account the
regional context. The logic being that the structure of labour relations in the hinterland‘s
agriculture and rural manufacture not only conditioned the remarkable mobility of the
regional labour force but was also an instrument through which the growing demand for
labour power in the emerging colonial metropolis could be satisfied. Rural labour
relations were said to have left an imprint on the metropolitan ones. As has been observed,
―Working people could be bound only into such relations in Madras that they conceived
at least as acceptable as the alternatives open to them in the hinterland‖. Thus, coolies
and artisans were believed to have their own ideas about the legitimate and illegitimate
form of social dominations, about the mutual duties of master and servant, about
‗working morale‘, ‗just‘ compensation for their work and proper forms in which such
compensation could be given and about grievances that justified resistance. Possibly, it is
such an understanding which leads us to believe that urban labour relations which
emerged in eighteenth century Madras could be best understood in the context of the
modified rural labour relations that were prevalent over a considerable portion of south
India.5
Condition of the Paraiyar’s in the Pre-colonial period
Imperialist historiography painted a grim picture of the pre-modern society in the
sub-continent, as politically fragmented, culturally decadent and economically stagnant.
The condition of the labouring groups was depicted as pathetic and that almost
everywhere slavery existed in some form or the other. In fact, extreme form of caste
discrimination and oppression was said to have characterised the corporate life.6 On the
other hand, British rule was described as a providential blessing, one which guaranteed
4
For more details, see Gyan Prakash, Bonded Histories : Genealogies of Labour Servitude in Colonial
India, Cambridge South Asian Studies, Vol. XLIV, Cambridge, 1990, pp. 1-12.
5
Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, pp. 793-796.
6
For more details, see G. Aloysius, Religion as Emancipatory Identity, p. 24.
2
peace and security for all. At the sametime, it was said to have promoted the liberation of
the under-privileged groups in the society. The nationalist historians vehemently opposed
such views and in their writings pre-colonial India seemed to have been constituted by
self-sufficient and harmonious village republics, in which different ascriptive groups
fulfilled their duties according to their ‗jati-dharma‘. The relations between these diverse
social groups were believed to have been cordial and complementary until the seeds of
conflict came to be sown by the British. But recently historians have moved away from
these two antagonistic versions.
In recent historiography, Tamilnadu has been depicted in terms of distinct
ecological-cultural regions. Historians have pointed to the differences of ecology and
culture, between the valleys or the wet zones i.e. the drainage areas of major rivers like
the Cauvery, Tamiraparani–Chittar, Vaigai on the one hand and the vast plains/dry zones
lying between these valley systems on the other.7 Though there were several mixed areas,
this distinction between wet and dry zones have been accorded importance in
understanding the history and the society of the Tamils. Incidentally, the linkages
between these two sets of eco-zones remained few and this not only encouraged their
mutual isolation, but differences in terms of food production, labour organisation, social
stratification and cultural values. In view of these wide diversities, the labouring
communities were believed to have occupied differential positions and played different
roles in their respective zones.
Significantly, the history of the socio-cultural development of the Tamil region has
been interpreted in terms of an agrarian integration revolving around the crucial
ecological factor of availability of water for irrigation. Indeed, it is within these different
phases of agrarian expansion–integration, that the problems and prospects of the
generally subalternised classes have been located. Burton Stein had opined that during
the first known phase of agrarian integration i.e. the Pallava-Chola period (between the
ninth and twelfth century A.D.), the Tamil society had remained divided between densely
populated and intensely cultivated ―nuclear areas of corporate institutions‖ dotted along
the different river valleys, on the one hand, and the thinly populated and sparsely
7
C. J. Baker, An Indian Rural Economy 1880-1955: The Tamilnad Countryside, Delhi, 1984, pp. 85-97.
3
cultivated vast forest and upland areas, on the other.8 In a sense, it was the topography
that influenced the nature of social organisations in the respective regions. In the river
valley systems, more popularly referred to as Brahmadeyas and Periyanadus, castesocieties emerged under the control of the Brahmin-Vellala communities. In such
societies, access to means of production was thoroughly identified with caste-status. The
people of low ritual status were excluded from land control and agrarian servitude
remained the most dominant mode of production.9
In the vast forest and upland areas, society was constructed on a different model.
With open space all around and practically no water for irrigation, no single caste/caste
cluster could control land or labour organisation associated with it. The various castes
and communities, such as the Maravars, Kallars, Paraiyans, Shanars, Pallars and Vellalars
indiscriminately occupied and worked on land.10 The low level of surplus leading to a
dispersed control of land made rigid social stratification impossible. The scarce
Brahminical presence restricted the varna ideology to a few families, thereby rendering it
irrelevant in collective life. Since the notions of ‗high‘ and ‗low‘ were not immutably
8
For more details, see Burton Stein ―Agrarian Integration in South India‖ p. 179; see also Burton Stein,
―Idiom and Ideology in Early Nineteenth Century South India‖ in Peter Robb (ed.) Rural India : Land
Power and Society Under British Rule (Collected Papers on South Asia. No. 6, School of Oriental and
African Studies. University of London) London, 1983, pp. 27-28.
9
David Ludden has argued that since Brahmins became the cultural model of elite behaviour, not putting
ones hands in the mud became a mark of entitlement to elite status. In fact, ownership of land meant
overseeing its productive use, forseeing its productive potential and seeing that irrigation works were built,
repaired and managed properly. All this, in reality meant supervising the labour of others. However, it was
still unclear as to how Vellalas and Brahmins obtained client cultivators to cultivate their lands. The
labouring client cultivators, belonged mostly to the ‗lower castes‘. Their lowliness found expression in
public behaviour directed against them—in temples, fields, housing locations and on roads. Thus, labour
itself became ‗lowly‘ in the cultural economy of irrigated agriculture. The ritual pollution, associated with
untouchable work, not only reinforced the desire of the land owners to escape field labour, but also limited
the social and economic mobility of the agricultural labourers. For more details, see David Ludden,
Peasant History in South India, Delhi, 1989, p. 91.
10
In the dry zones, the Paraiyars could set up relatively independent peasant house holds. British officials
in the nineteenth century observed that in the dry zones ‗untouchables‘ did not consider themselves as mere
labourers at others‘ command. For more details, see David Ludden, Peasant History in South India, p. 82.
4
fixed to ascriptive status, caste did not define the access to means of production. The
culture and religion of the dry zones too, had little to do with the Vedas, Gods, Goddesses
and values of Aryan Brahminism.11 However, the instability of the food economy in this
region as well as the frequent occurrences of scarcity and famine forced the migrants to
surge towards greener and caste ridden valleys.12
Significantly, the principle of subalternity as well as the identification of the
subaltern classes differed in the two areas. In the case of the wet zones, the principle of
subalternity was obviously caste/birth. A certain number of classes, not born into the
kinship systems of either Brahmins or Vellalas were forced to accept menial occupations,
which were often considered to be polluting. These groups generally had no escape from
the enforced subalternity. The subordination of the ‗untouchables‘ such as the Paraiyar‘s
was reflected in the political economy as well as in the culture and religion of the region.
In the dry zones, no single group could sustain their domination for long. In this region,
Paraiyar‘s could be identified, but there was nothing that distinguished them apart from
the rest of the whole region for a considerable period of time.13
In the period under Vijaynagar-Nayaka rule, the different eco-regions of Tamilnadu
as well as their socio-cultural patterns imperfectly converged. Couple of centuries of war
and strife that characterized the assumption of political power by the Nayakas provided
the ‗lower castes‘ with several opportunities to improve their socio-economic conditions.
The war like situation-stimulated handicrafts, manufacture and trade. Thus physical
prowess, manual skills and endurance qualities came to be valued and prized. The
unpredictable state of the society forced the dominant group of the valleys to depend
more on the plainsmen for their safety and protection. The isolation of the Brahmadeyas
and the Periyanadus came to be challenged by the warring groups.14
The emergence of militarisation also led to an ever-increasing demand for revenue.
In fact, new areas of the plains were brought into agriculture through large scale
deployment of labour and several groups including the weakest were turned into
11
G. Aloysius, Religion as Emancipatory Identity, p. 27.
12
Ibid.
13
Ibid.
14
For more details, see Burton Stein. ―Agrarian Integration in South India‖, pp. 191-95.
5
independent cultivators.15 Slave/‗untouchable‘ mode of production of the valleys yeilded
place to the ulkudi (resident) and parakudi (non-resident) system of cultivation.16 In some
areas, kinship corporate holdings tended to break up into individual and private.17 Though
there were instances of forced labour, it needs to be understood that the martial regime
did not place a great deal of importance on considerations of birth and caste. Burton Stein
has argued that warrior chiefs and their style of governance relied more heavily on the
artisan-merchant and the labouring lower castes, instead of depending on the landed
upper caste elites. 18 Such1 a system of governance created a new socio–political
ambience which provided opportunities for the collective self-assertion of the ‗lower
castes‘ of the plains of Tamilnadu.
The endemic political conflicts in the late pre-colonial period, it is often argued,
stimulated the predominantly agrarian economy. David Washbrook thinks that eighteenth
century economy was a highly diversified one compared to the economy of the late
nineteenth century. Apart from pastoralism and artisinal manufacture, there was an
impressive service sector, revolving around temples, courts, towns and armies, all of
which made heavy demands on labour.19 Washbrook has also challenged the concept of
‗landless labour‘ as propounded by scholars like Dharma Kumar by stating that if this
concept was taken to mean labour without rights to land or other forms of subsistence,
then it would have undoubtedly been obscure.20
15
C. J. Baker, An Indian Rural Economy, pp. 41-45; David Ludden, Peasant History in South India, p. 82.
16
Noboru Karashima, Towards a New Formation : South Indian Society Under Vijaya Nagar Rule, New
Delhi, 1992, p. 125 and pp. 127-28.
17
Ibid., pp. 127-28.
18
For more details, see Burton Stein, ‗Agrarian Integration in South India‘, p. 195.
19
Washbrook has argued that since the seventeenth century, the expansion of the textile industry drew
labour, particularly from the lower levels of the agrarian economy. He thinks that the pastoralist sectors of
the agrarian economy were also highly developed. In some areas, the landless groups took advantages of
this pastoralist economy to set themselves up as owners of livestock. For more details see David
Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in late Eighteenth Century South India: The Golden Age of the Pariah‖ in
Peter Robb (ed.) Dalit Movements and the Meaning of Labour in India, Delhi, 1993, pp. 69-71.
20
Dharma Kumar tried to establish the point that the issue of landless labour needed to be explored in the
context of the historical background, comprising both the pre-colonial period as well as the early colonial
period. She was more inclined to accept the position that landless labour in the late eighteenth and the early
6
Washbrook has argued that membership of a ‗landless labour caste‘ in the late precolonial period, did not necessarily imply a lack of control over all forms of private
property. At the same time, it did not denote a reliance on the sale of labour power, to the
degree it meant later. The ‗adimais‘ or agrestic slaves were not without personal rights,
nor were they simply chattel slaves. Though the majority of them depended on their
masters for subsistence and protection, such relations showed signs of breaking down,
especially when obligations were not met or violated.21
Basing his arguments on the Baramahal Records, Washbrook also suggested that
cash payment as well as crop shares and clothing had generally become part of the
agreements between the landlords and the agricultural labourers. 22 Subsequently, in a
specialized and exchange related economy, labour assumed mobility in physical, social
and sectoral terms.
Washbrook has also argued that diversification of the economy in the seventeenth
and eighteenth centuries resulted in a high degree of specialization and greater exchange
between sectors. In a sense, labour came to be largely reproduced through such exchange
nineteenth centuries was not entirely a creation of the colonial revenue apparatus, but rather dated back to
the pre-colonial period. In a sense, there was an element of continuity between the pre-colonial period and
the early part of Company‘s rule in south India. For more details see Dharma Kumar, Colonialism,
Property and the State, Delhi, 1998, p. 32 and Land and Caste in South India, pp. 31-33. For Washbrook‘s
criticism of Dharma Kumar, see David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South
India‖, p. 69.
21
Washbrook opposed Kathleen Gough‘s argument that long term servitude and systems of bondage
characterised the nature of agrarian relations over the whole of south India. He makes it clear that existence
of such relations based on long term servitude was prevalent only in parts of the Kaveri delta. Basing his
ideas on the researches of scholars such as Siva Kumar, Washbrook argues that Kottadimais (The
agricultural servants held in bondage to mirasidars were known as adimais. They were also referred to as
Kottadimais.) often had a customary right to desert when conditions became too oppressive. For more
details, see Kathleen Gough, Rural Society in South-east India, Cambridge, Delhi, 1981; see also David
Washbrook ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖, p. 70; S. S. Sivakumar,
―Transformation of the Agrarian Economy of Tondaimandalam: 1760-1900‖,
22
Washbrook has pointed out that in many places, public and symbolic presentation of a piece of money
(inscribed with a king‘s head) was believed to be the central act ‗legally‘ constituting a contract. See David
Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖, p. 72.
7
relations. Incidentally, monetary forms, it was believed, seemed to have permeated most
of the systems of exchange by the late medieval period. Therefore such systems in
Washbrook‘s opinion, responded to some forms of the price-rational logic. The intervillage movement of population benefited the wandering cultivators for a season or two,
thereby swelling the local levels of labour power and production. The Paraiyar‘s, despite
facing some difficulties in acquiring land on their own right, seemed to have enjoyed
some advantages. They might have come closer to performing some economic roles, very
similar to those of the less privileged members of the economically advantaged groups.23
In Washbrook‘s opinion the ‗lower castes‘ might have acquired livestock in
addition to the skills of their labour power. Since most production regimes involved
communal labour operations, Paraiyar‘s performed much the same work as petty peasants,
the only difference being that their rewards were calculated as a labour share of the
product rather than an owner‘s share. But, even this could be blurred. It has been argued
that ‗untouchable‘ labourers were very often permitted in their own rights to cultivate
inam lands belonging to the ―community of the possessors.‖24
It has also been argued that besides enjoying some scope of mobility within the
agricultural economy, ‗landless‘ labour enjoyed much more outside it. Though the higher
levels of skill in the weaving, construction, military and other industries were protected
by exclusive corporate organizations, the lower levels could open up to pressures of
demand. At the same time, it was possible to start merchandising on very low levels of
initial capital. However, upward mobility to the point of achieving the Chetty status
required more capital—both real and symbolic—‗than most erstwhile labouring groups
were ever likely to acquire‘.25
Indeed, compared to the late nineteenth century the returns to labour—of various
kinds and various sorts—looked remarkably high, although there was much greater
uncertainty. Washbrook has estimated that while standard wages for most of the second
half of the nineteenth century was equivalent to 120 Ibs of grain per month, wages in
good agricultural seasons in the eighteenth century was equivalent to 200 Ibs per month.
23
David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖, pp. 72-73.
24
Ibid., p. 73.
25
Ibid.,
8
The employment opportunities in the army also provided limitless opportunities for
earning money. It has also indirectly argued that prior to the 1770s, weavers, many of
whom belonged to the ‗untouchable‘ castes, enjoyed impressive returns for their labour.26
Washbrook‘s ideas on the eighteenth century do reveal several interesting details. It
is clear that the internal dynamic of economic diversification, consequent to the political
splits during and at the close of the Vijayanagar era, was further accentuated with the
integration of Tamilnadu as a whole to the global trade and commerce. This had been
largely because of the operations of the European companies. Cotton production, textile
manufacturing and exporting became a single complex of economic activities, which had
the potential of overcoming the ecological constraints of different regions and upsetting
the hegemony of the landed aristocracy. Such developments tilted the balance of power
towards labouring groups and also paved the way for the globalization of the economy
and the society.27 The researches of S. Arasaratnam clearly point out that trade along the
Coromandel coast had high potential for social interaction. Till the middle of the
eighteenth century, the overseas traders were taken to be as one of the several emerging
groups, the others being the Chetty, the Marakkayar, Mukkuvar and others. 28 The net
result of such diversification, found expression through a structure of more egalitarian
ideology. Washbrook has interestingly observed, ―for those groups who had been at the
very bottom of the ancient regime‘s social order, the epoch offered a number of rare
opportunities.‖29
But, some scholars like Burton Stein have argued that developments during the
Nayaka rule were not limited to the realm of political economy only but extended to
culture and popular religion as well.30 The Brahmin-Vellala alliance imposed idangai–
valangai division of the lower castes seemed to be declining. Consequently there was an
26
David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖, p. 74.
27
G. Aloysius, Religion as Emancipatory Identity, p. 31.
28
S. R. Arasaratnam, Maritime Trade, Society and European Influence in Southern Asia 1600-1800,
Variorum, Hampshire, 1995, pp. 44-49 ; see also V. N. Rao (et. al.), Symbols of Substance—Court, State in
Nayaka Period, Tamilnadu, Delhi, 1992, p. 303.
29
David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖ p. 79.
30
Burton Stein, ―Agrarian Integration in South India‖, p. 195.
9
alliance between them to fight the monopoly dominance of the upper castes.31 Thus as the
regimented structure of the varna ideology faded out, the practice of untouchability also
weakened.
Some scholars have argued that cultural and religious streams other than the grand
Vedic-Agamic gained popularity during this period. Burton Stein has pointed out there
was a phenomenal rise in the number of Amman temples while there was a marked
decline of those of Sivan.32 The Brahmin-Vellala immigrants to the plains during the
Nayaka period were also forced to make accommodations to the popular and lower caste
pressures in formulating their cultural and religious practices. Several symbolic priorities
might have been accorded to the ‗untouchables‘ in the temples, rituals and festivals.
The implications of transition from the Chola to the Nayaka period found
expression through a process of socio-cultural homogenization. In fact, as a part of this
process, the new political ruling groups down- graded the status and role of irrigated
agriculture, the valley pattern of social organization and the Brahmin-Vellala cultural
traditions. Thus a diversification of the economy arising from the exigencies of war led to
expansion of cultivation in dry regions and expansion of manufactures and trade. These
developments resulted in an increase in the demand for physical labour. Possibly, it was
these large-scale socio-economic transformations that have inspired historians like David
Washbrook to believe that the eighteenth century was the ‗Golden Age of the Pariah‘.33
New Readings on the Labour and Society in Eighteenth Century Madras:
David Washbrook‘s researches on late eighteenth century south India seems to
suggest that this region witnessed a chronic scarcity of labour until the 1790s, creating
relatively favourably conditions for the social, occupational and spatial mobility of the
Paraiyars and members of other rural artisanal caste groups. Thus, their subordination to
the Kaniyatchikkarars (class of peasants which controlled the majority of land rights),
notwithstanding the recurrent subsistence crises, was not as comprehensive as that of the
landless labourers to the landowning ryots one hundred years later. Agricultural labourers
possessed a number of rights that were well worth discussing. First, farmhands from the
31
Ibid.
32
Burton Stein, Peasant, State and Society in Medieval South India, Delhi, 1980, p. 464.
33
David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖ p. 74.
10
Paraiyar caste could claim the right to make use of the Parcheri district of their respective
agricultural settlement free of all taxes. These districts comprised not only their
habitations but also the adjacent land or the backyards (puzhacadei) were they planted
fruit and vegetables and kept their own cattle. Secondly, they had a right to a proportional
share of the agricultural settlement‘s harvest. Thirdly, some of them perform certain
duties in the village (Talaiyari) or measure of grain and land (Toti), which entitled them
to additional shares of the crop and in some cases even to tax free land. Fourthly, they
possessed customary claims to various compensations and privileges, such as periodical
allowances in money or grain, a regular present of cloth and financial support in case of
marriage. Not the least important was the so called Purakalam right of gleaning on
threshing floor which gave occasion to several conflicts. Moreover, the eighteenth
century village society permitted upward mobility to a certain extent. English officials
like F. W. Ellis noted that as late as in the early nineteenth century, the Paraiyar could
become tenants, possessors of lands, though they had to pay a higher rent than
payirkarars (tenants of other castes).34
Nonetheless, three distinct forms of labour relations in agriculture seem to be
documented by contemporary sources. The first form of labour relations that historians
often encounter is that of Paraiyar or Palli farm hands being collectively bound to their
home villages‘ soil. These agricultural labourers who were called Pannaiyals were not
subordinated as individuals to individuals but as a community to the respective villages‘
community of dominant peasants. The Pannaiyals were neither free to leave nor were
their masters permitted to expel or transfer them to another village even if they sold their
Kaniyatchi shares to outsiders and moved away themselves. The second form of
agricultural labour relations were based on yearly contracts between the so called
Padiyals (a hired servant paid with grain) and the dominant peasants.35 This relationship
resembled free wage labour in that it did not imply unlimited subsidiary rights to land use
or the village‘s agricultural produce. Nonetheless, the forms of compensations did not
34
For more details, see Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, pp. 797-98.
35
For more details, see H.H.Wilson, A Glossary of the Judicial and Revenue Terms, and the Useful Words
Occurring in Official Documents Relating to the Administration of the Government of British India,
London, 1855, p. 386.
11
seem to have differed substantially between the Pannaiyals and the Padiyals. The third
form of productive relationships was the one which was based on agrestic slavery. The
master was the private proprietor of the slave whom he could sell, mortgage or rent out as
he pleased and whose productive and reproductive capacities he was entitled to exploit.
The occurrence of agrestic slavery may appear to contradict the hypothesis that
labourers‘ bargaining position was relatively strong in that period. This form of
subordination however, did not predominate in Tondaimandalam, the wider hinterland of
Madras and it appears that agricultural labourers entered such relationships chiefly in
periods of war and famine when living standards dropped dramatically. Slaves were
procured both from outside and within the agricultural settlements. The sellers were often
relatives – pannaiyals or padiyals who obviously possessed enough formal ‗freedom‘
from the dominant peasants to undertake such transactions. However, even agrestic
slaves enjoyed some of the customary rights of the other categories of agricultural
labourers. Compensation of labour was thus similar in all three forms of organizing
agricultural production. 36 Therefore, these forms should not be regarded as separate
phenomenon but rather as divergent tendencies in the development of class relations
between dominant peasants and agricultural labourers. The emergence of both agrestic
slavery and wage labour was connected to a general process of social differentiation in
pre-colonial South India, to a commodification of agricultural production in which the
organic unity of land and labour was gradually eroded. The subordination of agricultural
labourers to a single employer became practically relevant only to the extent that
individuals could also acquire land. This period‘s tendency of privatizing land rights,
impressively documented by Tsukasa Mizushima fostered the emergence of labour
relations compatible with these new forms of property.37
Various aspects of Madras early colonial labour history appear to be of puzzling
inconsistency. The level of social and spatial mobility was, for example, high while
slavery did not only survive but was even refurbished. Slave prices remained stable
36
For more details, see Sundaraj Manickam, Slavery in the Tamil Country : A Historical Overview,
Christian Literature Society, Madras, 1993 (2 nd Edition), pp. 42-51.
37
Tsukasa Mizushima, Nattars and the Socio-Economic Change in South India in the 18 th – 19th Centuries,
University of Tokyo, 1986, pp. 255-258.
12
though real wages rose. Attractive money wages notwithstanding, labourers insisted on
shares, on payments in kind and on side-line occupations. The peculiar complementarily
of Kuli labour and corvee, of wage, debt and whip rendered wage labour and bondage
almost indistinguishable in many cases. A regional labour market had emerged –
community structures were yet rather supplemented that superseded in the social
organization of labour. Though a certain brittleness of community structures and
customary patron – client relationship was discernable in the countryside throughout the
eighteenth century, these bonds had actually been reinforced when the nineteenth century,
the age of consolidated colonialism commenced. The expansion of India‘s commodity
production from about the seventeenth century implied a monetization of social relations,
as Frank Perlin have pointed out even the lower classes of the population. The smallest
monetary unit in Madras, the Kasu or cash amounted to about the three thousand three
hundred sixtieth part of a monthly wage of one pagoda. The alone indicates a relatively
high frequency of small financial transactions. Customary client relationships, corporate
structures were corroded and uncomfortably complemented by social relations that could
be expressed in monetary claims. Pannaiyals who were partly recompensed by money
payments, Kottadimai (the women who were bengut preferably together with their
children.) were sold by their families to a slave holder, agricultural labourers employed as
Kulis in Madras during the lean season, fisherman who borrowed money in times of
dearth, artisans who were pushed towards ‗free wage labour‘ or took to commercial
gardening as a sideline occupation- money and ‗market‘ occupied a large space in their
lives. Aparts from these labour relationships, bearing features of wage labour, there was
another process which impeded the formation of a formally ‗free‘ was labouring class.
The militarization of economy and society also implied the appropriation of resources by
coercive means, especially of human resources. Labour relations were thus militarized
themselves – labourers in the Company‘s civil departments bore often more resemblance
with contemporary soldiers than with ‗free wage labourers‘. In fact, coerced and unpaid
labour services were a current form of tribute which no state involved in the fierce
regional struggle for domination chose to dispense with.38
38
For more details, see Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, pp. 822-24.
13
The utilization of a considerable share of the region‘s resources for military
purposes and the utilization of still further resources by intensifying warfare deflected the
developments of labour relations in yet another way. Declining investment into irrigation
works, heavy taxation, requisitions of livestock and interruptions of the inflexible cycle
of paddy cultivation brought about a permanent crisis. At the same time commercial
manufacture, especially the production of export textiles, was severely obstructed by the
massive reallocation of resources. Consequently, recurrent subsistence crisis imperiled
the lives of ‗free-wage‘ labourers and petty commodity producers even more than those
of bonded labourers whose masters had at least an interest to support their debtors,
servants or slaves in famine periods. In this situation, bondage proved to be preferable.
The usual prevalence of labour scarcity was a strong incentive for employers to keep
labourers in permanent bondage notwithstanding the risk of considerable loss in times of
drought and demand when the demand for labour dropped. There is evidence that such
relations actually dissolved when a master could not fulfil his obligation to support his
servants.39
The labourers of late eighteenth century Madras should not be regarded as a
singular working class, not even as the nuclear of a wage labouring class‘ but rather as a
plural phenomenon, as a loose configuration of heterogeneous yet interconnected social
groups. They were heterogeneous as a result of the forementioned process of social
differentiation that were already under way in the Madras hinterland when in the mid
eighteenth century a period of militarization set in. Petty commodity producer, free wage
labourer, debt-servant and slave were social roles that could be assumed by a single
household of the labouring classes at a single moment or within a short-time span. The
emerging colonial state thus found a rich assortment of social techniques of subordinating
labour in Tamil society, several of which could be appropriated to its needs and
remoulded in the process. When labour scarcity disappeared, the bargaining position of
the labouring classes deteriorated and their social and spatial inability was severely
impeded. The interconnectedness of these social groups subsided in the process, while
heterogeneity was further strengthened.40
39
Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, p. 824.
40
Ravi Ahuja, ―Labour Relations in an Early Colonial Context‖, pp. 825-26
14
A Critique of the ‘Golden Age of the Pariah’
Historians like David Washbrook have strongly argued that the economy of the
eighteenth century provided enough opportunities to the Paraiyar‘s to raise their socioeconomic status. It has been pointed out that compared to the late nineteenth century, the
returns to labour of various kinds and various sorts were also high. Apart from the high
wage levels in the agricultural sector, Paraiyar weavers enjoyed higher returns, because
of the policies of the English East India Company. 41 At the same time, the low land-man
ratio put the value of labour at a premium.
Washbrook has also argued that one adimai convention, which attracted the
attention of the colonial authorities, was that of selling of attached labourers with rights
to land. But this custom, he argues, seemed more to highlight the great value of labour in
the prevailing agrarian system than to reflect the simple labour oppression, since land
rights had little value without labourers. In most of the areas other than the deltaic tracts,
landholders chased labourers and offered substantial shares in the social product for their
services.42 Moreover, the structure of the state and its ambiguous relationship to many
forms of ‗private capital‘ made it difficult to erect structures of control capable of
systematically compelling or coercing labour. The south Indian state in the eighteenth
century was believed to have been more centralized than the residual images of
‗segmentation‘ seem to suggest. The processes of centralization promoted territorial
divisions and competitions, all of which extended into the field of labour recruitment. It
has been argued that such competition forced rulers to lure labourers from their
neighbouring territories into their own, thereby raising the price of labour.43
Incidentally, it has also been pointed out that labour at virtually all levels of the
economic system was corporately organized and capable of putting up a fierce resistance.
In the interior districts, the peasant clan organizations were believed to have resisted the
attempts of the military fiscalist states to increase the share of the product extracted from
them as revenue. 44 Washbrook has argued that corporate principles of organization
41
42
David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖ p. 74
Ibid., p. 76.
43
Ibid.
44
Ibid., p. 77.
15
reached much deeper down, embracing even the ―landless‖ and ‗untouchable‘ labourers.
He observed, ―No class of labour was held to be entirely without specialist skills or
resources or rights.‖ 45 The social relations of production were conceptualized as
comprising of the intersection of several tiers of right bearing and corporately organized
labour, each with independent though differential claims to a share of the produce. The
‗untouchable‘ labouring classes were thus believed to have belonged to wider territorial
corporations, which might have protected their skills and even negotiated their price. The
influential caste organizations were also believed to have organized territorially–
extensive labour strikes against the attempts of the Company to increase taxation on the
social product.46
Washbrook has pointed out that apprehending violence on the part of the ‗Pariahs‘,
the Company‘s officials intervened extensively in the grain market and also involved
themselves in distribution of food items. The Company‘s officials had a belief that
‗Pariahs‘ were ‗toughmen‘ with attributes of physical strength and an aptitude for
violence. At the same time, the officials also believed that the ‗unclean‘ ‗Pariahs‘
possessed poisoned weapons. Thus the Company influenced by the correlation between
―uncleanliness‖ and ―power‖ employed large number of ‗Pariahs‘ in the army.47
It is against this background of the eighteenth century labour conditions that
Washbrook presents his arguments in favour of the ‗Golden Age‘ for Pariahs and the
other labouring groups. But his arguments seem have been based on subtle
generalizations. His views about the weaving sector certainly leave out some important
details. In the post 1770s, the British did not favour open competition in the weaving
centers and claimed a prescriptive right over the labour of the weavers. They eliminated
the practice of hiring intermediaries and agents to impose a more rigorous supervision on
the weavers. The weavers were also forced by the Company to accept advances, and this
eventually forced them into a state of perpetual indebtedness. Incidents of physical
assault on the weavers were also not rare. Therefore it has been argued that though in the
second half on the eighteenth century prices of cloth increased by 27 percent, it by no
45
Ibid.
46
Ibid., p. 78.
47
Ibid.
16
means earned profits for the weavers and the other labouring groups. The incomes of the
weavers remained static and this sometimes led to resistance.48
Although Washbrook has argued that there was a regular migration of agricultural
classes, such a phenomenon did not always prove to be beneficial for the lower caste
agricultural labourers. In spite of the prevalence of such migrations, agricultural labourers
in districts like Chingleput could not always break free from the exploitative mechanisms
devised by the mirasidars. It also needs to be stressed that even if there had been
temporary acts of desertion, such incidents hardly affected the rural economy. The
uncertainties brought into existence by the Carnatic Wars also did not provide many
opportunities for the mobility of labour. S.S. Sivakumar has argued that the mirasidars
were the major beneficiaries of such political turmoil.
The mobility was also simply not restricted to the agricultural labouring groups.
The mirasidars also often indulged in acts of desertion. In view of such propensities,
desertion by the Paraiyar‘s should neither be viewed from the point of individual action
nor from the perspective of mobility. In other words, the agricultural labourers‘ right to
desertion could be utilized by their masters in their own mutual struggles for ascendancy.
The Paraiyan were the major pawns, but they had little opportunities of profit.49 At the
sametime, had the pastoralist agrarian economy afforded better economic privileges to
the labouring groups, there would not have been any tendency on the part of the Paraiyan
to enter into agreements of servitude with the dominant groups in the rural society.
Washbrook‘s views on the advantages enjoyed by the payakari (could be a
parakudi; a distinct category opposed to the mirasidar) cultivators is also not wholly true.
While such a version might be valid for regions in and around the Godavari delta, it is
very unlikely that it would have taken place on a wider scale in the Tamil districts in the
48
It has been stated that trading in textiles received a set back following the Industrial Revolution in
England during 1780-1820. The import of cheap manufactured cloth led to further impoverishment of the
weavers. Though the sectors involving hand ginning, cleaning of cotton and spinning it into yarn displayed
very little signs of recovery. The handloom weaving retained its limited presence due to its ability to
produce specialised products. For more details, see R. Vidyasagar, ―Debt Bondage in South Arcot District:
A Case Study of Agricultural and Handloom Weavers‖ in Utsa Patnaik and Manjari Dingawaney, Chains
of Servitude : Bondage and Slavery in India, Delhi, 1985, p. 135.
49
S. S. Sivakumar, ―Transformation of the Agrarian Economy in Tondaimandalam: 1760-1900‖, pp. 26-27.
17
late eighteenth century. The researches of Arun Bandopadhyay and David Ludden
suggest that parakudis (generally non-resident cultivators) existed both in agraharam
(villages owned by Brahmin mirasidars, who utilized the labour of the ‗lower castes‘) and
manavadu (villages owned by the non-Brahmin mirasidars, belonging mostly to the
Vellalar, Kamavar and Palli castes) villages, though only few of them got pattas. 50 It is
very unlikely that even if parakudis had been set themselves up as tenants, their
conditions would have improved. David Ludden has argued that though in the dry zones
of Tirunelvelly, some ‗untouchables‘ had been able to set themselves up as independent
peasants, it is very doubtful that they were a part of the legacy of the previous century.51
In the years following 1805, with the political conflicts coming to an end there was
a perceptible change in the British attitude towards India. In fact, there was a realization
that though agriculture needed to be expanded, the practicalities could not be ignored.
Though the Company was skeptical of the role of the privileged corporations over issues
related to land, there was still no clear understanding regarding the mobilization of capital.
The Company was not in favour of covering all the financial risks, rather it preferred to
devise ways and means that could create conditions for the flow of private capital into
agriculture. In a sense, the Company seemed to be more interested in restoring the powers
and positions enjoyed by the privileged groups prior to the Mysorean raids, particularly in
regions where its foundations rested on a weak surface.52
Concluding Observations:
The story of re-enfranchisement, as narrated by Washbrook, gives rise to a few
questions. It is clear from his arguments that in places like north Thanjavur, mirasidars
returned to take their position in the rural society after a lapse of a decade or more
following the Mysorean raids to wrest the privileges that had been enjoyed in their
absence by other social groups. The Company also started a process of rigid scrutiny to
find out the real man who had enjoyed the land and the rights associated with it, prior to
the political turmoil. The researches of Nilmani Mukherjee clearly show that the revenue
50
For more details, see Arun Bandopadhyay, The Agrarian Economy of Tamilnadu, pp. 90-91.
51
See David Ludden, Peasant History in South India, pp. 82-83.
52
For more details, see David Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in Late Eighteenth Century South India‖ pp.
83-84.
18
settlements devised in the first decade of the nineteenth century were actually variations
of earlier village settlements and that the dominant groups tried their best to prevent any
attempt at subverting their claims as intermediaries on the basis of a ryotwari
settlement. 53 But, for Mukherjee, the exact effects of the early ryotwari system on
privileged land rights were uncertain. This doubt has been largely cleared in a joint article
by Nilmani Mukherjee and Robert Frykenberg, wherein it has been argued that there was
hardly any large-scale violation of well established land rights during the period of early
ryotwari settlements.54
More recently, it has been argued that there was hardly any consensus in the official
circles over the introduction of a revenue settlement, either on the lines of a permanent
settlement or that based on ryotwari principles. In fact, the Company‘s officials in these
years preferred a status quo in the realm of revenue collection. David Ludden has argued
that it was difficult for the ‗lower caste‘ groups to transgress the limits imposed by their
‗lowliness‘ and ‗exclusion‘ from the rest of the Hindu society, so as to set themselves up
as landed proprietors.55
The restoration of the ancient order also led to new problems for the Company. The
Company in need of a far higher share of the rural surplus found it difficult to overlook
the claims of the privileged groups, such as the mirasidars, inamdars and village
headmen.56 Washbrook has admitted the fact that in early the nineteenth century British
officials in south India were elevated to the role of protector of mirasidars. 57 Dharma
Kumar has also argued that the Company‘s attempt to restore the old order was clearly
manifested in the working of its law courts, which displayed a distinct preference in
recognizing the indigenous forms of servitude.58
Thus Washbrook‘s narrative on the last decades of the eighteenth century lacks
validity in several important aspects. He does admit that increasing revenue demands as
53
Nilmani Mukherjee, ―The Ryotwari System‖, pp. 63-64.
54
Ibid., pp. 217-26.
55
David Ludden, Peasant History in South India, pp. 169-70.
56
Interestingly, this sort of idea is also present in Washbrook‘s narrative. For more details, see David
Washbrook, ―Land and Labour in late Eighteenth Century South India‖ p. 84.
57
Ibid.
58
For more details, see Dharma Kumar, Land and Caste in South India, pp. 34-45.
19
well as the increasing presence of the rural intermediaries towards the end of the Anglo–
Mysore military conflicts reduced the scope of pastoralism. In this context, he has very
rightly argued that the Paraiyan became further distanced from the sources of ‗barbarous
wildness‘, which for long had served as repositories of their mystic prowess. But, while
agreeing with certain assumptions of Washbrook, it needs to be argued that his narrative
is based largely on subtle generalizations. Though there were c1ertain important
economic developments, all of which had an impact on the condition of the agricultural
labourers, the usage of the term ‗Golden Age‘ seems to have been more of a metaphor.
20