Desh vs Pradesh: Is India One Nation Or Many? An Anthropological, Historical, And Political Perspective

India, a nation of endless mountains, luscious jungles, dazzling fauna, rich history, hundreds of dialects, and well over a billion people. Or is India a nation at all? With its grand diversity, can India exist only as a nation? Perhaps, India is a collection of nations. Still these regional identities share great commonalities, potentially forming a larger identity. To resolve these complexities, India must be viewed as a nation itself with smaller nations comprising its different regions. India possesses several unique circumstances and ideologies that have resulted in its modern formation as a nation of nations.

What is a nation?

To properly understand the national composition of India, from a human anthropological perspective, one must first define how a human group qualifies a nation. What qualities must the group possess? In Imagined Communities, Benedict Anderson proposes the nation as a social construct, generated by individuals who imagine themselves as a part of the community, connected by various aspects such as language, art, literature, and common geography. Often, authorities, intellectual movements, and political groups highlight these commonalities to rally a certain population. Shared ownership of material heritage therefore convinces individuals, who do not personally know each other, within a large population to affiliate with a unified identity, the nation. Especially given the Indian context in which nationalism may not be known by that name or be perceived differently, one must evaluate concrete acts originating from nationalism to determine that nationalism’s legitimacy.

Regions of India, such as Kashmir, Tamil Nadu, or Karnataka, generally existed as polities, but authorities and intellectuals did not explicitly define these lands as belonging to a certain community or nation. Unified more by the ruling sovereign than by any national identity, regions and communities did not develop the modern sense of a nation before the early modern period. Yet, pre-modern Indian scholars identified a distinction between themselves and foreign invaders, terming the latter as mlecchá, roughly meaning uncivilized. More specifically, scholars considered any individual or group as mlecchá if they came from outside of India and did not adhere to Vedic religious norms. As a result, mlecchá did not act as an ethnic or racial identifier, applied to groups as diverse as the Greeks, Scythians, and Chinese, and instead conveyed anethnic group’s lack of following religious customs. Still, this “us versus them” reasoning conveys Indians’ willingness to imagine a community, albeit one that revolved around a values/religion-based identity, before the advent of modern nationalism.

Background: Imagined Communities in India

Although not embracing the concept of nationhood until modern times, Indians have long imagined different identities for themselves. Within the ancient Vedic roots of Indian culture exist two forms of identification: varna and jati. Varna is closer to the Western understanding of “caste,” in which there are four categories (chaturvarnya): Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas, and Shudras. Brahmins consist of literate priests and scholars, historically performing religious and bureaucratic functions. Kshatriyas traditionally fulfill military and monarchial roles, comprising the core of landowning ruling classes. Vaishyas make their living from business and trades, serving as merchants, sometimes across large networks. Shudras compose the traditional peasantry, engaging in manual labor, including artisanry. These four classes, as divided by the ancient Indian Vedic texts, collectively cover most occupations in human society. Varna arguably constitutes imagined communities as individuals were willing to imagine themselves into an identity dependent not on personal acquaintance but on shared commonalities, namely professional category, and at several points in time, the imagined boundaries between varnas have shifted to include new groups.

Jati too, is an imagined community, but this concept comes closer to the identification of an ethnic grouping or tribe than varna, with several jatis occupying the four varna classifications. Jatis have also created imagined histories for themselves, forging claims to ancient glory and connecting themselves by descent or otherwise to legendary figures. For example, the peasant Yadava jati of North India claim ancient adherence to democracy and that Sri Krishna himself supported them. Likewise, Dalit jatis, traditionally left out of the varna system, forge origin stories which pose similar legendary figures as their founders.

Notably, however, varna and jati – though evidencing Indians’ tendency to organize into imagined communities – does not make Indians more likely to affiliate into nations. Rather, varna and jati impeded the development of national identification within India by assuming preeminence in the social structure. Individuals preferred to label and divide themselves by varna and jati identifiers rather than regional or linguistic characteristics. For instance, a Rajput based in his ancestral Rajasthani desert would identify with a fellow Rajput landlord Gangetic Bhojpur in the east rather than his neighboring Marwari Jain merchant. Furthermore, he would only form marital alliances with Kshatriya jati, preferably among the Rajput clans, and almost never other varnas or jatis, except in the case that others began to assume similar roles such as when the Mughals and then Marathas usurped the ruling class and proved their merit, giving the Kshatriya reason to imagine these other groups into their exclusive community.

So, when did nationalism first take root in India? Ancient India did have a staunchly independent identity. Prior to colonization, although India had integrated into and influenced global trade vastly over a period of millennia, it never felt a need to conform to a global order beyond itself. Its politics, culture, and religion stayed surprisingly isolated, engaging with and influencing the surrounding Tibetans, Southeast Asians, Sinitic world, and Central Asia but not receiving much foreign influence in return. After the Islamic invasion, the feudal nature of Persianate government and its adaption to local traditions did not spur much of a change through the subcontinent. Those who previously served a Chakravarti now bowed to Sultans and Shahanshahs, and invaders – as did their Greek and Scythian predecessors – adopted local governing structures. The difference between previous eras of foreign rule and that of the British appears in the realm of ideas. The Greeks, Scythians, and Muslims marginally affected Indian ideologies. The Greeks introduced Hellenic architecture, and the Muslims introduced art, language, their religion and the concept of religious inequality in a land that tolerated other cultures. Yet none of these groups particularly altered the socio-political ideology, or manner of thinking, of the Indian masses. Repelling the Greeks, the Mauryas restored the Vedic order. Overthrowing the Mughals, the Marathas revived the Hindu ascendancy, notably even following ancient Hindu religious, economic, and governing practices, demonstrating that even nearly a millennium of Saracen rule could not change local ideology.

The British brought with them not only Protestant Christianity but also modern Enlightenment societal and political ideas, including the rule of law, the rights of man, modern democracy, and nationalism itself. Thus, the British Raj – although institutionally oppressive and racist – connected India to the latest global intellectual movements. Despite reinforcing and using varna and jati – crudely lumped together as “caste” – divisions to their advantage, the British also introduced a new form of imagined self-identification: the nation.

Initially, rebellions against the British lacked a nationalistic character and instead assumed the nature of a religious conflict between Hindus and Muslims against the Christian British. In the instance of the Rebellion of 1857, Hindu-Muslim unity did not emerge because of ethnic or national sentiment. Rather, the British East India Company managed to distinctly offend both of these religious groups with laws and practices such as commanding Hindu and Muslim soldiers (sepoys) to use rifles that required biting cow and pig fat, scorning Hindus’ and Muslims’ dietary restrictions respectively. Furthermore, the Rebellion was far from a unified struggle, carried out by autonomous factions and princely states more akin to a medieval revolt than a consolidated assertion of national sovereignty.

This lack of national consciousness would not last, with strengthened British rule and the resulting integration into the global economy awakening new sentiments in the Indian people. The British utilization of their “crown jewel” India within their extensive network of colonial markets created an Indian bourgeoise middle class. This increasingly wealthy and influential new Indian elite, made up of lawyers, doctors, and other university graduates, encountered competition and discrimination from British authorities, instilling a common consciousness and shared identity in the face of this common challenge. Thus, the classic “us versus them” complex, the seeds of Indian nationalism had been planted, and they only grew through subsequent anti-British activity that clearly demonstrated a nationalist character, including the Indian National Congress, Hindu-German Conspiracy, Hindustan Socialist Republican Association, and the Indian National Army.

Independence: Now what?

The collective movement for India’s freedom resulted in the establishment of the Union of India in 1947, upon which national sentiments further evolved. At this point, questions arose regarding state reorganization. Under the British East India Company and the subsequent Crown Rule, India possessed a complex system of internal jurisdictions, including multiple levels of vassal princely states and directly governed presidencies, provinces, agencies, and much more. The newborn Republic inherited this convoluted structure which, among other obvious concerns, largely ignored local cultural divisions. The Madras Presidency pitted Tamil and Telugu speakers against each other, the Nizamate of Hyderabad subjected majority Telugus to Deccani Muslim rule, the Bombay Presidency initiated friction between Gujaratis and Marathis, and Kannadigas lay divided amongst all the previous territories and more, to provide a few examples. The strife between these groups was not a mere conflict between villages, jatis, or faiths. These struggles assumed an altogether different nature: a national conflict. Several communities, internally united by shared language, culture, history, and claimed territorial rights vied to assert their identities upon the map as well as in society and politics.

Do these sub-Indian communities truly qualify as nations? These groups share all the aforementioned qualities of nations, and even imagine themselves as communities across varna or jati lines. Yet, to answer this question, one must evaluate the extent of these communities’ imagination. Does the community’s imagined solidarity have tangible repercussions? Does the community act upon their national impulse? Among many clear instances of national action across India, the cases of the Kashmiris, Tamils, and Kannadigas exemplify the many forms of nationalism – including separatist and non-separatist, Hindu and Muslim, and northern and southern – that have manifested within India.

Kashmir: A Disputed Custody

Kashmiri national sentiment originated from the very onset of independence itself, but not from conflicts with other internal communities. Alternatively, the Partition tore Kashmir between India and Pakistan. Kashmir, the furthest northern region of India, has traded between many hands over the millennia. Lying at the crossroads of South, East, Central, and West Asia, Kashmir and its people have absorbed a plethora of cultural influences. Originally a Hindu and Buddhist people, many Kashmiris converted to Islam during periods of Islamic domination. Along these lines, Kashmir ended up under the rule of a Hindu Maharaja despite having a Sunni Muslim majority. Naturally, this split control of Kashmir caused turmoil after British India’s dissolution, with the Maharaja initially opining to remain a multi-religious state and independent of both India and Pakistan. Yet, a section of Kashmiri Muslims, spurred by Pakistani pressure, revolted against the Maharaja in a joint operation with Pakistan. In a difficult situation, the Maharaja acceded to Indian integration, believing that India would treat him and Kashmiri Hindus more leniently than an openly Islamist Pakistan. As the dust settled during the First and Second Indo-Pakistani Wars, the most populated piece of Kashmir remained under Indian control, planting the seeds for an internal struggle.

Finally, in 1989, Muslim Kashmiris launched a comprehensive insurgency against the Indian State, alleging disenfranchisement and a lack of self-determination. Although the conflict initially derived from religious sentiments and friction, this rebellion, while utilizing religious differences as a justification, focused on political and national assertion. Many Kashmiri separatist factions, including the secular Jammu Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF), have in fact removed religion from the picture, promoting the Kashmiri people’s unity around their common culture (Kashmiriyat) and using this unity to argue for Kashmir’s self-determination as a nation. Although there are a large amount of strictly Islamist organizations operating in Kashmir, especially those of foreign non-Kashmiri origins reflecting the global trend of fundamentalist terrorism, ideologies such as the JKLF’s demonstrate the existence of a Kashmiri national consciousness, a unified imagined community of Kashmiris, beyond rudimentary religious conflicts. Thus, the Kashmiri Insurgency has proven that its motives can exist independently from religion and that the conflict exhibits a national character. Therefore, Kashmiris have not only cultivated a national sentiment of solidarity but have also acted upon nationalist ideas to envisage national freedom, creating a nationalism that separates itself from India at large.

Tamil Nadu: The Tamed Rebel

Inhabiting India’s southern extreme, Tamils are well-known for their unapologetic assertion of their existence as a distinct community within India. Dating back even to the era of Ashoka, as mentioned in his famous pillars, the three Tamil polities ruled by the Chola, Pandya, and Chera dynasties exhibited an apparently unconquerable tenacity, which led these dynasties to persist into the early modern period. Geographically and politically disconnected from the rest of the subcontinent, the Tamils experienced relatively lesser, even marginal impacts from major trends such as the spread of Buddhism and the Islamic invasion. Therefore, Tamils have long owned the ingredients to nationalism – a communitarian individualism and cultural distinction.

Modern Tamil nationalism began even before Independence with the Dravidian movement, which spawned from a reinvigorated Tamil identity during British rule, which brought the Tamil Nadu region into direct contact and comparison with the rest of the subcontinent. Firstly, British academics observed the Tamils’ distinct culture, including their extensive Tamil classical literature separate from and locally favored over Sanskrit classics, which dominate other regions. Furthermore, colonial scholars, following the nineteenth and twentieth centuries’ trends of racial typology, proposed that the majority of Tamils and other South Indians belonged to a different “Dravidian” race from more “Aryan” – broadly Caucasian – appearing North Indians. The British further noted that South Indian upper caste Brahmins displayed the “Aryan” phenotype and theorized that “North Indian Aryans” had subjugated the South Indian Dravidians long ago, colonizing their lands and imposing Vedic Hinduism.

Although grossly oversimplified and even inaccurate, the British’s historical and racial narratives appealed to a rising non-Brahmin Tamil bourgeoise who challenged Brahmins’ dominance in higher positions such as courts. Relating to the plight of the supposedly oppressed “Dravidian race,” the non-Brahmin Tamil middle class associated their ongoing power struggle against Brahmin supremacy as a continuation of the millennia-old racial conflict between native Dravidians and the purportedly foreign Aryans. The resulting Dravidian movement posits its ideas through a socioeconomic, historical narrative, in which Tamils and other South Indians (who are considered subsets of Tamils) are indigenous to the Indian subcontinent. In this rendering, racially and economically oppressive Brahmin elites and their North Indian kin have ruled over the Tamil Dravidian nation in the vein of imperialism. Within Dravidian ideology, jatis belonging to the Brahmin varna and those categorized under other or no varnas are racially distinct. Radically reinterpreting the Indo-Aryan Migration Theory, Dravidianists claim that Tamil-speaking Brahmins originated from North India and oppress other Tamils not only because of casteism but also because non-Brahmins are indigenous Dravidians, a separate race. The Aryans – Brahmins and North Indians – have exhibited racist injustice, which from the Dravidian viewpoint, must be stopped through cleansing South India of Aryan influences and even Aryan people. Accordingly, Dravidians aimed to drain Tamil culture of Indo-Aryan influences, including names, religion, and language, not only vying for political but also cultural separation. As a result, the Dravidian movement assumed a national character, imagining solidarity among the Tamil community through racial, economic, and cultural unity. Just as Kashmiri separatism has evolved beyond a matter of religion to express nationalist ideology, the Tamil Dravidian movement converted anti-Brahminism – a matter of varna and jati – into an ethno-racial, national conflict. Yet even more than the Kashmiris could, the Tamils constructed a national story that presents an ancient backbone for their modern nationhood.

Tamil Dravidian nationalists have best expressed their tenets through their linguistic campaigns. On the linguistic front, Tamils have repeatedly expressed dismay at the Aryan and foreign Sanskrit language and then the attempted imposition of its descendant Hindi as the official language of India. Tamil nationalists promoted their vision of linguistic purification, claiming the superiority of Tamil over Sanskrit literature and purging the Tamil language of Sanskrit words. The Dravidianists also encouraged the conversion of Sanskrit-origin personal names into their Tamil equivalents. Furthermore, Tamils equated their restoration of their language’s original form, not contaminated by foreign influence, as a duty to protect one’s mother or Tamizh Thai, a national personification meaning “Mother Tamil.” This linguistic cleansing, christened as the Tanittamiḻ Iyakkam or “Independent Tamil Movement,” clearly exemplifies the “us versus them” nature of Tamil sentiments, which can only be characterized as an aggressive nationalism centered around an imagined cultural revival.

In summary, the cultural and linguistic mass movements launched within the Tamil community, unifying Tamils under a common struggle, clearly evidence Tamil’s willingness to imagine themselves as a nation. Although Dravidian separatism has died down following successful anti-Hindi agitations, the Tamil nation has defied broader Indian norms to enforce its cultural sovereignty, a trait that only a strong-minded, imagined community would manifest.

Karnataka: The Proud Daughter

Kannada nationalism grew out of a desire to exert Kannada culture and identity in parallel to their neighbors, especially the Marathis and Tamils. Kannadigas, although politically and culturally united for much of history, did not imagine themselves as a singular unit or nation until modern times, akin to the Tamils. Successive dynasties, including the Chalukyas, Rashtrakutas, Hoysalas, and various dynasties of Vijayanagara, ruled over what they considered a continuous state of Karnataka similar to how Rome remained Rome whether under the Julio- Claudian or Justinian dynasties, providing background for a later imagined community to construct a national narrative. Still, during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries when nationalism took root globally and in India, the Kannadigas lay divided among various British- controlled princely states and provinces. Among the Kingdom of Mysore, Nizamate of Hyderabad, Coorg Province, Bombay Presidency, and Madras Presidency, only in Mysore did Kannada culture, language, and people have prominence. Rather than an obstacle to Kannada consolidation, this division and absence of sovereignty underscored the importance of unity. As the winds of nationalism blew through India, the flame of Kannada nationalism had just been lit.

The lack of administrative sponsorship for Kannadigas under jurisdictions dominated by neighboring groups, such as Marathis, Tamils, and Deccani Muslims, sparked the first mass expression of Kannada nationalism: the Kannada Ekikarana (Unification) movement. Politically and culturally, activists and their organizations such as Aluru Venkataraya and the Karnataka Vidyavardhaka Sangha sought at first to encourage the grassroots preservation of Kannada language in lieu of official support. However, Venkataraya reoriented this effort into a push for the consolidation of Kannadiga territories into one political entity, Karnataka. Following the reunification of Karnataka under the Republic of India in 1956, Kannada sentiments reemerged during the Gokak Agitations, during which protestors fought for the preeminence of the Kannada language in government and instruction. These linguistic concerns originated from the dominance of English, the “prestigious enchantress,” over Kananda, “the sobbing mother,” who her children once again vowed to defend. Kannada nationalism was sustained through successive disputes with other communities, such as with the Tamils over the Kaveri River and with the Marathis over Belagavi. Kannadigas grew their national sentiments through these conflicts with neighbors, enticed by the perceived encroachment of their “others” upon their rightful territory, which was even personified as a mother goddess. The motivations behind these movements, namely the protection of language, revival of a historical entity, and the establishment of self- determination touched the hearts of Kannadigas across all varnas, jatis, regions, religions, and dialects, conclusively binding them into one nation which today celebrates Karnataka Rajyotsava–the day commemorating the Karnataka's unification under one banner.

Yet, Kannadigas did not only enforce themselves for the sake of territorial or political changes but rather fostered a deep cultural and historical narrative for their people to serve as the basis for nationalism. Kannada musicians and authors incorporated themes of long-gone empires and a past glory that the nation must recover, a common theme among many nations. Kannadigas especially praised the righteousness and bravery of Vijayanagara’s kings as well as the Empire’s prosperity as motivation for a national resurrection and the reestablishment of a united Karnataka mirroring yore. For instance, Shantakavi’s drama, Vidyaranya-vijaya depicts the founding of the Vijayanagara Empire, including its characters praying to a deified Karntaka-devi (goddess) for protection, presumably from Turkic invasions. This theatrical work metaphorized Karnataka’s at- the-time divided status as a mirror broken into five pieces. Furthermore, Kannada fine and performing arts invoked the natural fauna and landscape of Karnataka, weaving together the people and regions of Karnataka into an identity by imagining an intrinsic relationship between the land and its inhabitants; Huyilagola Narayanarao’s famed poem “Let this beautiful Kannada land of ours rise” invokes such verbal cartography. The Karnatakatva (“Karnatakaness”) trend in Kannada national aesthetics, including music, drama, and literature ultimately expressed Kannadigas’ imaginations of what defines their community.

Unlike the previous two examples, the people of Karnataka proudly identify within their Kannada identity and the wider Indian nationalism rather overtly. Shantakavi’s ode, Nammadi Nammadi Bharatabhoomi (Our own land India), sings praises for the whole country of India, including that god himself blessed its land which sustains all life. Kannada scholar-poet Govinda Pai similarly declares that India is his very breath and womb from which he was born in his work, poem called Bharatambeya Mahime. Bharatamateya Prārthane (Prayer to Mother India) by B. M. Srikanthayya goes further to call on Mother India to shed the shackles of colonial slavery and restore lost glory, a familiar narrative considering Kannada poets’ discussion of restoring the prosperity of pre-colonial Karnataka. This rhetoric is not the only example of Kannada writers creating parallels between India and Karnataka. In numerous works, Kannadigas honor India and Karnataka as personified goddesses, with Kannadambe (Mother Kannada) being the daughter of Bharatamata (Mother India), such as in Karnataka’s very own state song. With this inclusion of India in Karnataka’s anthem as well as Kanandigas’ push to include Kannadiga historical figures in the broader Indian narrative of history, Kannada nationalists have equally contributed to the wider Indian nationalism and actually seek to integrate their distinct Kannada identity into the Indian whole.

India: The Blessed Mother

Having discussed the existence of various nationalisms within India and the disparities within communities such as the Kashmiris, Kannadigas, and Tamils, it may seem impossible for there to be a collective Indian identity. Yet, a common sense of pan-Indian unity has existed since antiquity, only growing stronger and assuming a modern, nationalistic form. Even in ancient texts dating back thousands of years, such as the Mahabharata – still revered by Indians, especially the majority Hindus, as a religious and historical work – reference the concept of Bharatavarsha, the realm of Bharata, a legendary emperor who unified India, establishing its traditional boundaries. As early as the Mauryas of the fourth century B.C, and as recently as the Marathas of the eighteenth century A.D., Indian sovereigns claimed titles similar to Emperor Bharata, demonstrating regional, historical, and cultural continuity. With territorial contiguity established, important early works, including the epic Ramayana and holy scriptures, the Vedas extensively describe India’s geography and various peoples. Not to mention, the distinction of foreigners as the “other” (mlecchá) indicates a sense of familiarity amongst Indians, speaking related dialects, practicing similar culture, and inhabiting one land. India’s rich shared history automatically unites its regions, with the heritage of the Indus Valley Civilization, Vedic age, early empires, and the early-modern Marathas acting as accessible ingredients to craft a national narrative from. Indian literature, patriotic songs, and film have espoused the fraternity of India’s peoples for centuries, and these nationalist sentiments have had clear repercussions, most importantly Indian independence.

Conclusion: A Nation of Nations

Thus, India is a united nation in and of itself, serving as more than a political entity but an anthropo-cultural vision of a shared identity connecting a plethora of distinct humans, with their diverse regions and languages. However, these unique regional identities — among them that of the Kashmiris, Tamils, Kannadigas, and several others in the same vein — have also manifested their own nationalisms, expressing this sentiment through cultural, artistic, social, and political action. India cannot be accurately viewed as a homogenous monolith nor as a disjointed motley. Rather, its heterogeneous condition as a “nation of nations” characterizes its peculiarity and fascinating, continuing evolution. Indians have navigated the challenges coming from their intricate intersection of distinct identities, including but not limited to varna, jati, religion, and nations, showcasing strength in and willingness to protect their diversity.

Disclaimer: The above is a contributor post, the views expressed are those of the contributor and do not represent the stand and views of Outlook Editorial.