For a long time, I carried this thought in my mind: “Brahmins want everyone to be Hindus, but not Brahmins.” At first, I assumed it was my own original observation—a fresh way of putting the contradictions of caste and religion into words. But then I stumbled upon the writings and speeches of Periyar, and I realized: he had thundered this truth decades ago.
Periyar was a man who stripped illusions down to their bare bones. He saw through the polished surfaces of culture and ritual, straight into the machinery of oppression beneath. When he spoke about caste, he was not merely condemning social hierarchy—he was exposing a carefully preserved contradiction.
Hinduism, at least in its lived reality, does not treat all Hindus as equals. A Brahmin may call himself a Hindu, but his version of Hinduism requires that others remain below him. This is why Periyar’s words still sting: the Brahmin’s interest in protecting “Hindu unity” was never about unity; it was about cementing his place at the top of the pyramid.
And that’s the irony. Everyone is expected to take pride in being “Hindu”—except the Brahmin, who takes pride in being something more.
When I realized Periyar had already said this long ago, I felt a strange mix of disappointment and relief. Disappointment, because my so-called “original thought” was not new. Relief, because it meant I was standing on the shoulders of a giant who had already fought this intellectual battle, armed with sharper weapons than I could ever carry.
Some truths are so enduring that they cannot be confined to one thinker, one generation, or one geography. They reappear again and again, in new voices, because the problem itself never disappears.