Unity by Inequality

Brahmin–Yadav friction in Uttar Pradesh exposes the fragility of the BJP’s project of Hindu consolidation

Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Adityanath, addresses an election campaign meeting in January 2025, before the Delhi assembly elections. The banner bears the slogan “Batoge toh katoge”—If you are divided, you will be destroyed. SONU MEHTA/HT PHOTO
01 August, 2025

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In the last week of June, Brahmin residents in Etawah tonsured the head of a preacher and forced him to rub his nose at the feet of a Brahmin woman, who then sprinkled her urine on him. They were punishing the preacher for reciting verses from the Hindu text Bhagavad Gita. Mukut Mani Singh Yadav belongs to the Other Backward Classes. Yadavs are traditionally ranked as a Shudra community, the lowest in the Hindu social hierarchy. Hindu social codes, particularly the Manusmriti, prohibit the recitation of holy texts in the presence of Shudras and prescribe severe punishments—such as pouring molten lead into their ears—if they attempt to hear, recite or memorise the verses. The Brahmin residents were reportedly offended that a man of a supposedly lower caste had dared to recite the Gita to them.

The myth of a homogenised “Hindu identity” and so-called “Hindu unity”—the political mission of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party and its parent organisation, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh—it turns out, is not just a hollow narrative, but a brittle political coalition that collapses as soon as it is put to test in the social realm. OBCs form a major constituency of the Hindu population and have been the BJP’s primary support base across Narendra Modi’s three terms as prime minister. Modi, too, has routinely positioned himself as an OBC during election campaigns. But the Etawah episode suggests that twice-born castes tolerate the BJP–RSS vision of Hindu unity only as long as it serves electoral outcomes. When lower castes assert themselves socially or venture into roles traditionally reserved for Brahmins, that unity quickly unravels.

The incident is not an aberration. Under Modi’s tenure, upper castes have targeted Shudras for even the slightest challenge to their social dominance. A few months ago in Madhya Pradesh, in a similar incident, Brahmin youths stopped Devika Patel, a Shudra preacher, from publicly reciting the Gita and also threatened her father. Again, in March 2022, Yamini Shahu, also a Shudra preacher, faced similar threats for attempting the same. Shahu was told that, as a Shudra, she should perform mujra—a traditional dance form performed by erstwhile courtesans. In June 2024, Brahmins allegedly assaulted a Yadav family for not touching their feet while passing by their home. In January 2023, several cases were filed against Bihar’s education minister at the time, Chandrashekhar Yadav, for criticising a verse in the Ramcharitmanas, a Brahminical text that compared Shudras to animals and incited violence against them. Brahmin organisations have also been churlish about their representation in movies. A couple of months ago, Brahmin groups objected to the release of Phule, a biopic on reformers Jotirao and Savitribai Phule, who challenged existing social prohibitions and educated lower castes and women in the mid-nineteenth century. The list of what outrages them is endless.

It is important to note that Shudras are deemed touchable, unlike Dalits, whom Hindus have traditionally considered untouchables. At least fifty thousand cases of caste atrocities are annually committed against Dalits and Adivasis, which is evidence of continuing social discrimination. If caste Hindus truly reckoned with this reality, they might recognise how their caste pride has driven a permanent wedge between Dalits and Hindu society. The same logic of hate that enables the oppression of Dalits and Adivasis also underpins the caste system itself—in which each group looks down upon those ranked below.