Book Review | A Dharmic Social History of India

‘A Dharmic Social History of India’ by Aravindan Neelakandan presents a re-evaluation of Indian history through the lens of dharma, moving beyond the conventional narratives shaped by colonial and Marxist historiography. The book argues that Indian society was historically guided by Dhārmika principles, which provided a decentralized and enduring civilizational structure.

The book argues that the persistent interplay of Dhārmika principles within India’s social dynamics can provide a decentralized framework that more accurately reflects Indian society than existing dominant models. Challenging colonial, orientalist, and Marxist readings, the book rejects the view of Indian history as a series of invasions and ruptures, instead highlighting the role of local self-governance, temple economies, and indigenous knowledge systems in sustaining societal cohesion. It critiques the portrayal of Buddhist traditions as inherently egalitarian while depicting Vaidika and Brahmanical traditions as rigidly hierarchical. Rather, it suggests that the Vaidika yajña framework originally sought to mitigate occupational stigma and social stratification. By reassessing these foundational religious philosophies, the book aims to broaden the hermeneutical space, inviting readers to reconsider long-standing assumptions about hierarchy, social mobility, and the evolution of caste dynamics within Indian history.

In the first chapter ‘Indian Exceptionalism of Birth-based Stratification’, Neelakandan makes the claim that birth-based social stratification, social aristocracy, and social exclusion with claims of divine sanction are not unique to India, and have existed in almost all pre-modern societies and even seen in modern Maoist China. In my opinion, pointing to exclusionary social practices in other societies neither justifies or adequately contextualizes India’s system. A lengthy exposition on the existence of hierarchical structures elsewhere does not contribute to the contemporary discussion about the manner in which the construct of caste developed, functioned, and persists in the Indian context. Neelakandan rejects the reformist view of Hinduism, responding that the varṇa-jāti system is misunderstood as a problem, overlooking “the way Indian culture addressed social stratification based on its own core values and its view of human nature as well as socio-ecological relations.”

In chapters 3 and 4 on the Harappan social system, Neelakandan challenges the narrative popularised by academia that the Harappan civilization was a sophisticated but separate entity subjugated by invading Aryans who imposed a rigid caste hierarchy based on the Puruṣa Sūkta of the Ṛg Veda. Instead, he argues that the Harappan and Vaidika cultures were not distinct or antagonistic but rather part of the same civilizational continuum, displaying both unity and diversity within a shared cultural matrix. By reassessing this relationship through empirical evidence and a decolonial lens after putting aside ideological biases, the book presents a more nuanced and Dhārmika understanding of India’s social evolution.

Central to this reinterpretation is the idea that the jāti-varṇa system was not an Aryan imposition but an indigenous development, likely originating in the Vaidika era from Harappan societal structures. The book proposes that Indian socio-cultural organization was shaped by the philosophical framework of yajña, which sacralized the various professions — whether that be art, drama, agriculture or carpentry — by framing them as ritual performances. Whether in construction, agriculture, fine arts, or trade, all occupations were once perceived as sacred acts, with their practitioners fulfilling priest-like roles in their respective domains. This concept, deeply embedded in the Vaidika worldview, suggests that the hierarchical and exclusionary aspects of the caste system emerged later due to social stagnation rather than as an inherent feature of caste — reinforcing that the spirit of Vaidika literature is not one of discrimination. By recovering this Dhārmika vision of labor and social roles, the book seeks to offer an alternative understanding of caste and social stratification, one rooted in cosmic harmony and sacred duty rather than “Vaidika racism” or “spiritual fascism”.

The sixth chapter “Lutheran Buddha and Buddhist Jerusalem” challenges the notion of painting Hinduism as an oppressive religion that emerges from the portrayal of Buddha as a “Lutheran” figure — with a reformist bent that marks the origins of Protestantism. The next chapter “Bhagavan Buddha, His Dhamma and its Impact” discusses the (unintended) impact of teachings of Buddha. Neelakandan contends that this was the planting of the seeds for the institutionalisation of untouchability. His argument is that the doctrinal emphasis on absolute ahimsā and strict moralism in Buddhism and Jainism led to a disruption of varṇa, which was originally a flexible social structure centered around the yajña model of role allocation and redistribution rather than a rigid birth-based hierarchy. However, this assertion is slightly far-fetched — the rigidity of varṇa was impacted by multiple factors, including economic changes, political power structures, etc., and it is difficult to imagine that Buddhist philosophy or teachings had such a strong effect on Hindu society. Every jāti enjoyed a respectable position in both social and religious realms in pre-Buddhist society; however, the claim that Buddhism and Jainism disrupted a previously flexible varṇa system lacks strong historical evidence. It is more plausible that the increasing rigidity of caste was a gradual process influenced by multiple socio-political factors such as Islamic invasions and colonial attempts at classification through census rather than a direct consequence of Buddhist and Jain moral philosophy.

In Chapters 8-10, Neelakandan defies the notion of bhakti being a counterculture movement, developed as a reaction to Buddhism or Jainism, rather believing that it is a “parallel but independent and Vaidika-rooted phenomenon”, positing that bhakti thought is as old as the Vedas and not a recently modelled phenomenon. The fact that spiritual/ bhakti-based/ renunciatory orders either lack or pay little attention to caste hierarchies is a well-known fact. These chapters drive home a crucial fact about the unimportance of caste in certain contexts within Hindu traditions and the remarkable capacity of Hinduism for internal renewal, through the fostering and creation of institutions that adapt to changing circumstances while preserving its core foundations. The establishment of monastic orders, community-based religious organizations, and social reform movements within the tradition itself has historically provided avenues for social mobility and “emancipation” without necessitating external frameworks or modern institutional interventions. This intrinsic adaptability has allowed Hindu society to evolve organically, addressing social challenges while maintaining cultural continuity. Thus Neelakandan is not wrong in stating that the transformation due to bhakti is:

…continuous, unlike violent social upheavals and ‘revolutions’ of the West. It is not based on economic conditions but rather centres around the individual. Through the intense expansion of the self via mystical experiences, social stagnation and social exclusion are challenged. It should be noted that social exclusion and hierarchy are fundamentally challenged in this Indic model.

The use of the word ‘emancipation’ in the book is problematic, as it implicitly suggests that the social structures being discussed inherently involved control or subjugation—an assumption that contradicts the book’s broader defense of these very systems. Merriam-Webster defines “emancipation” as “to free from restraint, control, or the power of another, especially to free from bondage” or “to free from any controlling influence (such as traditional mores or beliefs).” Not only does the term carry strong Christian and Western connotations, but it is also historically associated with movements that sought to liberate people from oppressive systems such as slavery. By framing aspects of Indian social history in terms of emancipation, the book inadvertently casts a negative light on its own subject matter, reinforcing the very critique it seeks to counter. This choice of language imposes an external, modern framework onto historical realities, subtly undermining the Dhārmika perspective that the book aims to uphold.

A major drawback of this section of the book is its tendency to interpret every bhakti saint’s life, every Paurāṇika story, and every stray literary exposition through the lens of caste, social hierarchy, or profound egalitarianism. While social dynamics are undoubtedly a part of these traditions, imposing such a narrow interpretive framework reduces them solely to commentaries on caste risks oversimplification or worse, their detraction for their singular religious purpose: bhakti. Therefore, while such a reading is not entirely wrong, it is unclear whether this approach enriches our understanding or distorts the broader spiritual, philosophical, and cultural dimensions of these narratives. The framing of the contributions of bhakti saints as a deliberate critique of or a rejection of Dharmaśāstra or jāti-varṇa constructs is also problematic. The focus, according to the traditional worldview, is a deeper transcendence from all worldly ties, not just those conferred by virtue of jati/ varṇa.

The rest of the book is concerned with social “emancipation”: through bhakti, through interaction with colonial powers, and through advaita. (The author does not precisely clarify his use of the word ‘emancipation’, which has overtly Christian connotations. An assumption is made that he is referring to, in a general sense, the “liberation” from strict caste-based restrictions or prejudice). Neelakandan also critically engages with internal contradictions and reform movements through the responses of multiple 19th century thinkers, intellectuals and revolutionaries such as Svāmi Vivekananda, Dayananda Saraswati, and Śrī Aurobindo, who sought to reinterpret and revitalize Dharma in the modern age. These chapters make the book exceedingly tedious as Neelakandan details the gradual mounting of an Indian emancipatory movement in response to multiple forces, both internal and external.

The book is not without its pitfalls: the frequent employment of an Ambedkarite lens, presenting revisionist interpretations of portions of the Vedas, Purāṇas and historical incidents — reframing established accounts to fit its overarching thesis — show a prioritization of ideological alignment over scholarly or traditional consensus.

The book also frequently adopts a chronological analysis of the Vedas, a method that is against Hindu tradition, and rightly criticized when done by Western scholars. In legitimizing such a view, the book reveals an inconsistency in standards based on convenience. At 678 pages, ‘A Dharmic Social History of India’ is far too long, many chapters being burdened with excessive detail that vexes rather than engrosses. The author frequently regurgitates research rather than distilling key insights, making it difficult for even a well-meaning reader to stay engaged. Though some excerpts are undoubtedly interesting, a sizable portion of the book has long-winded explanations and unnecessary quotations that further add to its density, making for a soporific read. Much of the information could have been more concisely structured to enhance readability and clarity. Moreover, the book is poorly edited, with multiple typographical errors and inconsistencies in the use of IAST notation, which do not diminish the arguments put forth but detract from the overall reading experience.

Overall, the work is a good attempt at crafting a holistic understanding of India’s past from a Dhārmika viewpoint, in order to counter the prevailing discourse. Its emphasis on civilizational continuity rather than rupture makes it a meaningful contribution to Indian historiography.