Wednesday, April 9, 2014

DEDICATION
IN MEMORIAM
PROF. V.I. SUBRAMONIAM.

From out of the dust of an office as a bureaucrat, (the late) Prof. V.I. Subramoniam raised me up to be an author, after I had retired from about 35 years in the Indian Administrative Service. It was indeed a second birth for me. He had seen my work as a Co-Editor of the three-volume Report on Kerala in the People of India series published by the Anthropological Survey of India, and offered me a position as Chief Editor of the Encyclopaedia of Dravidian Tribes, published subsequently in three volumes by International School of Dravidian Linguistics (ISDL), Thiruvananthapuram. He then entrusted the work of editing a two-volume “Handbook of Kerala” also to me. In the meantime, he got me to write several articles for the Dravidian Encyclopaedia which he edited. He also put me to work on translation into English of seminal works by Herman Gundert on the History of Kerala, in Malayalam which that great German savant had learnt – his Grammar of Malayalam remains a classic.
Early in January 2009, Prof. Subramoniam sprang a bombshell on me during a Faculty Meeting of ISDL, suddenly announcing that I would translate the Purananuru into English prose – it had been his long-time ambition to have a translation made of the Sangam Classics for use by students and researchers. He himself was a deep scholar in this, as in so many other aspects of Language Studies, and his Index of Purananuru remains a standard reference book. In vain it was that I protested that my knowledge of Tamil extended only to the occasional reading of a newspaper, and listening to the Doordarshan version of News in Tamil. Those who had known the late Professor would have guessed that he cared nothing for my protests!   
Thus it was that, with the help and under the able guidance of Prof. Gloria Sundaramathy, I entered on this task – feeling (to borrow the words of Kalidasa), like one embarking on a voyage across the oceans in a frail boat (udupēnaiva mahōdadhim), or like a dwarf stretching out for fruits far beyond his reach (udbāhuriva vāmanah). But though I might have floundered on my voyage, I gazed in admiration at the vast riches laid out before me by that undying Classic; and realized the truth of what Prof. Subramoniam said of it:
“The Purananuru is a Classic; every time you read it, you find something new”!
In homage to him, and in gratitude for all that he did for me, I humbly offer the following article, “Redaction Analysis of Four Purananuru Songs” for the Memorial Volume being brought out in his honour. I believe that he would have critically read it with great attention – any new approach to an old Classic greatly fascinated him. I should also thank the Rev. Philip K. Mulley of Kotagiri (the Nilgiris) for a letter in which he challenged certain views I had expressed in an article in the DLA NEWS, November 2012. Incidentally he mentioned that no Redaction Analysis had been done on the Tamil Classics. Fascinated by this prospect, I did some very preliminary reading, and embarked on this article. I hope that it may be a pioneering effort, in the tradition of the Late Professor V.I. Subramoniam.

REDACTION ANALYSIS OF FOUR PUŖANĀNŪŖU SONGS.
Abstract: Application of principles of “Redaction Analysis” to four songs of the Puŗanānūŗu, to show that the presumption of caste in the society described is not valid.
Key words: Puŗanānūŗu; Caste; Social History; Sangam Tamilakam; Redaction Analysis; Textual & Contextual Criticism.

Introduction & Summary
“Redaction analysis” is a method applied to the examination of Biblical texts, and uses many techniques to arrive at the authenticity as well purport of the texts. It treats the author as an editor, who sieves through the material at his command to project a view point or a message. It contrasts different reportages of the same event or transaction recorded by several authors to distinguish the variation of purpose behind the separate reports. It also enables the testing of certain hypotheses about the validity of interpretations of terms used in the text, with reference to the circumstances described in it, as well as the known social history of the relevant time. These methods can be generalized for application to texts other than the Bible.  [Anon: www.abu.nb.ca/courses/New Testament/Gospels/REDACCR.htm, Atlantic Baptist University, New Brunswick, Canada; Marxsen, Willi: Mark the Evangelist, 1956;Murphy,Catherine:RedactionCriticism in www.relg.studies.scw.edu/facstaff/murphy/courses/exegesis/redaction.htm, Perrin, Norman: What is Redaction Criticism?, New Testament Series, Philadelphia, Fortress 1969; Smith, Mahlon: A Synoptic Gospels Primer, virtualreligion.net/primer/index.htm # index; in www.awitness.org/bible_criticism_method/redaction_criticism.html].
An attempt is made here, tentatively, to apply some of these methods to four songs from Puŗanānūŗu. Independent and reliable data on the Social History and the actual conditions in Tamilakam of those days is virtually non-existent; in fact, Puŗanānūŗu itself has been used as source by many historians including the great KAN Sastry. My specific purpose in undertaking this exercise is to show that assertions of prevalence of “caste” or jāti differentiation based on hereditary occupations in those times are unreliable; and inconsistent with the context. It is possible to interpret the words and expressions, which have been used to “prove” such existence of “caste”, in different alternative meanings that seem to be more in accord with the situations described in the classic. I thank the Rev. Philip K. Mulley, Kotagiri, for having indicated the possibility of redaction analysis of four Sangam texts, which, he felt, specifically asserted the existence of a caste-like organization of Sangam communities (personal communication, letter dated 16 Jan 2013).
The literature on “Caste” in India is vast, and beyond the scope of this article to review in detail. Dumont 1970 held it was an essential feature of Indian society, and had many dimensions, including a universal perception of hierarchy; and it was founded on varna or race (i.e., birth). Dumont’s analysis is complex and highly structured. The three factors he considers diagnostic are (1) gradation by status or hierarchy; (2) detailed rules aimed at ensuring their separation & (3) division of labor and the interdependence that results from it. Dumont reduces this three -fold feature into a “single true principle, viz., the opposition of the pure and the impure. This opposition underlies hierarchy …. and underlies the division of labor because pure and impure occupations must be … kept separate. The whole is founded on the necessary and hierarchical coexistence of the two opposites” (p. 43, emphasis supplied). Cohn 1996 argued that the Caste “System” in India was universalized, deified, and used as one of the modalities of British hegemonic hold on all aspects of their Indian Empire, including the intellectual perceptions of Indian “natives” of their own sociology.  Bayly 1999 took a middle position – while there were forms of social differentiation based on birth that varied from region to region in India, it was the British colonialist interests that enlarged these forms into a universal characterisation of Indian sociology. The early commentaries on the “rediscovered literary treasures of India” (including Vedas by Max Meuller) were inspired by this imperial purpose. Apart from showing that there is no evidence of a “Caste System” in the society described in the Purananuru, my implicit position in this essay is that the “Caste System” in India before the advent of the British was not essentialist but dynamic. It varied from time to time and place to place, and was modulated by the materialist determinants of social forms. British imperialism sanctified, fossilized, and fixed it as an article of faith in the “Indian mind”, facilitating the British to impose their own hierarchies in the Indian context, and making them part of the British methodology of dominance (Ambedkar 1917). An examination of Purananuru shows that such differentiation as did exist was not based on birth, an essential element of jāti based on varņa. I had brought this out in the Introduction to my translation of Purananuru in a general way (2011), but here, my attempt is to challenge conclusions based on certain interpretations of specific words that, on detailed con-textual analysis, can be, as demonstrated, interpreted in a manner that denies rather than affirms the hypothesis of caste or jāti.
Song 82.
(1) Bard Cāttantaiyār sings the praises of a great militarist of those times, Cōla king Pōrvaikkōpperunarkiļļi. Historically, he was a ruthless fighter, who extended the frontiers of his territory, and was one of those who established the foundations of the Empire (Sastry KAN). He excelled as a murderous wrestler (Pur. 80), and was well-known for the blitzkrieg-like speed with which he disposed of his enemies. In this song, the Bard likens him to a leather worker, described as an ilicinan, who gets through an upholstering job very fast but quite expertly, because his wife is in labour, and he has to attend a festival in his village by nightfall. Just as the leather worker got through his job without pause or error, so did the king kill off his enemies most efficiently, without waste of time and effort. The Bards usually declaimed their compositions in the presence of the Hero they wanted to praise, and explicitly expected the lords to make munificent gifts to them, somewhat in proportion to the extravagance of the flattery.
(2) The word ilicinan, (line 3, “...kaţţil niņakkum ilicinan kaiyatu...”) has been glossed as “belonging to a low caste” (Tamil Lexicon), “Pulaiya” (Subramoniam VI), and generally interpreted as a person of lowly origin, with a pejorative implication that he had low status in society. The great UV Cāmināta Iyer, to whom we owe the re-discovery of these Classics, was a dedicated scholar, who even changed his Vaishnavite name, Venkataraman, to a Saivite name and style (Cāminātan) in order to please his Saivite Guru, after which he devoted himself to the unearthing, editing, and printing of the greatest of Tamil literary works (Caminataiyar UV 1958:326-343; Ramanujam AK 1999:103-105, and also 186-189). This was towards end-19th century CE, when caste-consciousness was very high in Tamil Nadu and the British Empire was being firmly established. He interpreted the word in this sense, and ever since, other commentators have followed in his footsteps. Tamil Lexicon has glossed the word as “outcaste, pulaimakan, low, uncivilized person”. The Editors of that august work were influenced in their glossing of this word by this very song (Pur. 82:3) and Cāmināta Iyer’s interpretation of it. As Ramanujam AK remarked:
“... The most obvious parts of language cited frequently for their utter untranslatability are the lexicon and the semantics of words. For lexicons are culture-specific. Terms for fauna, flora, caste distinctions, kinship systems, body parts, even the words that denote numbers are culturally loaded”. (op.cit. 223; emphasis added).
The meaning, “uncivilized person”, cited in Tamil Lexicon, is on the authority of Tolkappiyam, Porul. 649, and does not seem to imply a birth-based, jāti characteristic. Several authors, including Hart, have argued on the basis of this word that there was a potential caste-system, if not a fully fledged proto-form of the present system, even during Sangam times (2nd century BCE to 5th century CE). Auvvai Durasamy Pillai was one of the few who dissented from this view, holding that the caste-system was only “mentioned” as existing in the Aryan territories, which did not necessarily imply that it was in vogue in Tamilakam. Ramanujam, in his own translation of this song, ignores the word (viz., ilicinan), and has: “... the needle in the cobbler’s hand in a frenzy of haste...” (op.cit: 199). The intention of the poet was of course to emphasize the utmost ease with which both the cobbler as well as the king accomplished their respective tasks, rather than to contrast the relative positions in society of the two – the comparison was intended as a compliment.
(3) The corpus of 400 (minus 2 that have never been found) songs comprising Purananuru had been compiled and edited by a 10th century AD poet-scholar, Pāratam pāţiya  Perum Tēvanār, a Brahmin. Commentators also relied on an anonymous “Old Commentary”, which conveys caste-based interpretations. As the Old Commentary covers only the first two hundred or so of the 400 songs, in the same order, it may be safely concluded that it was composed after Tevanar had edited the collection, i.e., after 10th century, when Brahmin predominance that later became the signature of the caste-system was being established. Specific caste eponyms like “Paraya, Pulaiya”, etc., had not been used to designate caste divisions in the text, but this sense has been contributed by the commentators. Cāttantaiyār addresses (Pur. 287) a person as “Pulaiya” (tuţi eriyum Pulaiya = Pulaiya who beats tuti drum!), in order to distinguish him from “Marava”. This song asserts that Marava fighters do not care for grant of agricultural lands in well-watered tracts because they would prefer to enjoy “Heaven” by dying in battle, in contrast to land-bound Pulaiya. This is significant because specialisation in means of livelihood (“division of labour” – a necessary but not sufficient condition for a caste system, cf., Dumont 1970:21) had emerged in marutam tracts, where wet-cultivation was well-established. Words ilicinan, ili piŗappāļan, etc., were pejoratively interpreted by later commentators to signify synonyms of communities who subsisted on agricultural labour. This was probably the reason why Subramoniam VI glossed “ilicinan” as “Pulaiya”, even though as it developed in later times, Pulaiya were NOT the traditional hereditary “leather-worker caste”.
(4) Let us assume that the interpretations imputing “caste” were indeed true of the times, and so understood by the protagonists concerned. Then, the Bard was actually drawing a parallel between one of the greatest conquerors of his time and a “low-caste”, and therefore despised leather-worker, and equating his great prowess in the battlefield with that of the “low-caste” worker at a contemptible, and by interpretation an “impure”, task! It would not be difficult to imagine Hero’s reaction –Bard’s head would have rolled off his shoulder before he completed his declamation!
(5) Let us try out an alternative interpretation of the word ilicinan – viz., lower-born in time, i.e., younger than the Hero. Let us also assume that the system of birth-based occupations, with inter-se ranking of them in a hierarchical scale, and the implied pejorative significance, was NOT in vogue. Then the Bard would not have run the risk of losing his head – he was actually comparing the Hero to an expert worker, having a respectable image, who had the advantage of youth on his side - the text has enough pointers to indicate that the Bard had the cobbler’s youth very much in mind – juxtaposition of his equal concern for his wife in labour and festival in village shows how lackadaisical he was – obviously the poet was laughing indulgently at his adolescent shifts in priority. In effect, he was congratulating the Hero for having been more vigorous and agile than his age would have rendered normal.[1]
(6) This analysis shows that the interpretation of the word as low in caste status, and the assumption that occupations were linked to birth-based hierarchies, leads to the reductio ad absurdum: the praise intended in the song would have actually been an insult. The alternative interpretation would, on the other hand, add another element of flattery – that the Hero was “younger” than his age.
(7) Table I below shows other songs in which Cattantaiyar and/or this Hero feature:
Pur.
Hero
Bard
Gist of contents

80
Cōlan Pōrvaikkōpperunarkiļļi
Cāttantaiyār
Describes how Hero overpowered and tore apart a strong opponent in a wrestling match “like an elephant breaking a piece of bamboo”, and hints at the rivalry between Hero & his father Tittan, another war-monger.
81
The same
Do.
Describes the noise made by Hero’s army on the move, and pities his opponents who fall into his hands; indicating how savagely cruel he could be.
82
The same
Do.
The song being examined here. The word ilicinan is used in this song.
287
Not mentioned
Do.
Bard addresses a person as “Pulaiya who beats tuţi drum”. Differentiates between Marava, who prefer to fall in battle than to settle down to agriculture; and Pulaiya. The context indicates no differentiation between land owners and agricultural workers, and therefore, no significance of “low caste”; though lower status than exalted Marava.
The first three songs clearly convey the violent character of this powerful Hero distinguished for his physical strength and cruelty – he tears apart his rival in the wrestling match as routinely as “a hungry elephant breaks a piece of bamboo” (pacittuppaņai muyalum yānai pōla). Cāttantaiyār seems to exult in the prowess of his Hero and in the profession of arms above all.
Song 170
(1) The word ili piŗappāļan occurs in line 5 (... ili piŗappāļan karuńkai civappa ...) in song 170, which is a member of a set of songs by different Bards describing a “tribal” leader, Piţţan Korran, headman of a community of forest-dwelling shifting cultivators (“Kurava”) who had established a symbiosis with wild life. It is well-known that such simple communities all over the world are egalitarian, enjoying communitarian ownership of assets, and sharing food and care among themselves (Majumdar DN:1984; Mandelbaum DG 1970:574). It is also well-known that they are (normally) hospitable to, and convivial with their guests.
(2) The song describes how the Bard’s group of itinerant singers and dancers (Pāņar) had, during their wanderings, chanced on this obscure, remote community. They were entertained warmly and hospitably; drunken with the heady spirits that the hill-dwellers served them, they broke out into an orgy of music and dance far into the night; the sharp sounds of the drum mingled with hooting of owls in distant hills where tigers hid – (puli tuňcu neţu varaikkuţiňaiyōţu iraţţum malai kelu nāţan...). The song describes how ili piŗappāļan (= low-born male) among them beat the hand-held tuţi drum so long and so hard that his hands got all reddened.
(3) The word ili piŗappāļan has been glossed as “low born” implying “untouchable” (importing the caste ethos of later times). Let us assume that this sense holds valid in this case. It could not apply to hill-dwellers because such communities never had caste-like divisions. Moreover, the tuţi drum that he handled was an instrument used by the Pāņar, as several Puram songs attest. Therefore the ili piŗappāļan must have been a member of the Pāņar group. But the song indicates that he had been so integrated with it that he moved and shared meals with it. One of the characteristics of the caste system has been that members of “lower” castes were not commensal (= could not eat together) with members of higher.
(4) Therefore, if we interpret the word as implying a caste-like organization with certain individuals being inferior to others, then the song could not have incorporated the well-knit kinship that the song in fact describes! The alternate explanation of the word, viz., that it signifies a lower position in chronological birth-order, i.e., “younger”, will satisfy the conditions of the song. The group consisted of inter-related people of both sexes, and different ages. The elders and those with talents composed songs and recited them to the accompaniment of the stringed instrument l; the women (viraļi) danced. It was left to the youngsters to tend to the drums. But they too got caught up in the orgy, and beat the drums till the hills and forests resounded, forgetting that their hands were still tender (the text has karuńkai = black hand; this was certainly not a despised colour in those times – black was the complexion of the most beautiful girls, cf., for example, Pur 342:1-2, where the highly desirable nubile girl is described as mayilaikkaņņi = glossy black like the wings of jungle crow Corvus macrorhyncos; and may indicate how sun-burnt they had become because of their wanderings to such remote settlements). This interpretation better reflects the intimacy and the joyousness of the revelry in which the resident forest-dwellers and the visiting Pāņar engaged themselves. Poetically, it may enhance an element of tenderness of feeling for the inexperienced youngster. [Suffix –āļan has been added to antaņan = Brahmin in Pur. 126:11, alukku arra antaņāļan = blameless (incomparable) Brahmin, viz., Kapilar, not specifically named, but praised as having monopolized all poesy so that lesser poets were left empty-handed.]
 [Tamil Lexicon gives an additional meaning for karum, viz., “big”. If we adopt this meaning, then the song would signify: “the ilipirappāļan beat the drum so hard that even his big hands got reddened”. But the poet was contrasting colors when he juxtaposed it with “red”; therefore, the meaning “black” = indicating a color signifying beautiful, tender, appealing, etc., would be aesthetically more pleasing, because of the color contrast and also because it may strengthen the element of sympathy implied by it. The word karuń- does occur again towards the end of the same song – (line 15) “irumpu payan paţukkum karuńkaikkollan = (on which) the blacksmith with big strong hands hammers the iron”, where the meaning “big” is obviously the more appropriate].
(5) Table II below summarises the differences among descriptions of the same community of forest-dwellers by various Bards. These relate to only one life-time, that of Hero Piţţan Korran.
Pur.
Bard
Description & propaganda.

168
Karuvūr katappiļļai cāttanār
The sylvan mountain location of the settlement of Kurava people; bamboos grow thick and black pepper grows wild. Shifting cultivation with no tillage; the seeds are sown in the furrows made by wild pigs. People eat together. Sandalwood used as fuel (i.e., community unaware of its value in exchange in the international trade). Leader Korran rides a horse, and is liberal with gifts. Bard promises that he (and others like him) will praise Korran throughout Tamilakam. The motive, admitted by Bard, is to shame miserly kings elsewhere.
169
Kāviripūmpaţţinattu kārikkaņņanār
Korran is described as a valorous fighter, whom the Bard finds it difficult to meet. But he still manages to beg Korran to give gifts to him liberally “right now” & wishes him victory.
170
Maruttuvan tāmōtaranār
Symbiosis of zero-tillage shifting cultivation is again described – though wild “cattle” (Indian Gaur = “bison”) have breached the fences, their droppings contain the seeds of crops, thus saving the people the task of sowing them. For further details, pl. see the text. Reinforces the impregnable defence enforced by Korran.  Ostensibly to warn enemies against attacking him, but overtly, suggesting that he may be vassalized.
171
Same as in 169
Praises Korran for repeatedly giving gifts. Mentions:  Korran is fighting for a king, indicating that the latter has vassalized him. Reinforces the message that Korran should be loyal to his lord.
172
Vaţamavaņņakkan tāmōtaranār
Celebrates Korran’s victory, and urges the Pāņar and Virali to drink, sing, dance, and eat. Wishes further victories, so that Korran could loot more things to share with them. Mentions Cēra king Kōtai as Korran’s suzerain. Propaganda: reinforces political and military integration of sylvan community with militarist overlords, because that enables more looting. Message: to encourage Korran to adopt the tactics of the war-lords of the time, loot neighbours and distribute the spoils to the mendicant Bards.

“We have here a brief summary of the process of formation of royalty and the State. The Kurava community was a self-sufficient band, basically egalitarian, leading a communitarian life-style. The area was rich in resources, especially black pepper. The “globalization” started with the incursion of the bards. They spread the news of the prosperity of the community and the liberality of the people, making it a desirable destination for others. As the fame spread, it attracted the attention of already-formed state identities, mainly the Cēra-Cōla-Pāndya complex. Being a hilly area, the Cēra had the advantage and succeeded in imposing suzerainty over the simple community. But Puram 172 shows that the community retained its informal tribal systems such as common feasting and sharing of spoils” (Menon TM 2011:324-325).

This illustrates how Pāņar objectively served as agents of “globalization”, exposing remote communities whose localities were resource-rich, leading to expropriation of forest produce, including the prized pepper of international trade, by Cēra-Cōla-Pāndya, and export in exchange for gold. The resulting system entailed that the centralized militarist power of the king commanded the resource, though the land remained with the occupants, distinguishing it from the “Feudalism” that arose in Europe, where the lord grabbed the land too.
Song 289
(1) The word ilicinan occurs in line 10 (... maţi vāyt taņņumai ilicinan kuralē ...) of this song, which describes the assembly of fighters who had gathered prior to launching an attack, presumably for stealing cattle from a neighbouring community. When they had partaken of the proffered drinks, the muffled sound of the drum beaten by the ilicinan announced that it was time to get ready to attack. The context does not require any emphasis on the caste-character of the drummer, but the word has been so interpreted – it has been proposed that drum-beating was then a lowly task, and the drum-beater of a despised caste, as conditions are now. In fact this argument has been “extended” e.g., by Hart, to a theory that the Pāņar themselves were of a low caste. Formally, the argument may be stated thus: “ilicinan = low caste [asserted]; ilicinan beat drums [data]; therefore all beaters of drums were low caste (Fallacy - undistributed middle!); Pāņar beat drums [data]; therefore, all Pāņar were of low caste”. But, Pāņar were NOT of low caste; Pur. 224:2-4 shows that they were commensal with the king’s relatives; and goes on to assert that the king met with Brahmins on equal terms. Many Pāņar became kilār = headmen of settlements. Even if we discount their accounts for an element of self-praise, it is clear that they were proud of themselves, and subordinate only to the kings, on whose generosity they solely depended. [In fact, Kōvūr Kilār, addressing one of the most blood-thirsty aggressors of the time, Cōlan Nallańkiļļi, boldly asserts this in so many words in Pur. 47 – “nummōranna cemmalumutaittē” = we are just like you in eminence! Thus, (apart from the fallacy of the undistributed middle in the argument), the falsity of the consequent of the above chain of arguments vitiates the validity of the argument itself. In other words, Panar were not low-caste, and “ilicinan and words of similar import do not necessarily imply “low caste”.
Hart has argued further that those who played kiņai (a hand-held drum) designated as Kiņaiyan, were of “low caste” on the analogy of the present status of drummers like Paŗaiyan and Tuţiyan. But several songs assert that Bards beat their own drums to keep time with their recitation. There are several examples (pl. see Menon TM 2011: 12-13); one may suffice here. Pur. 377 is recited by Bard Ulōcanār, who “confesses” to have beaten his kiņai drum as he addressed songs of flattery to Cōlan irācacūyam vēţţa Perunaŗkiļļi, a ferocious warrior  who had had a Rajasuyam (Vedic) sacrifice conducted by Brahmins (cf. Pur. 16, which describes him as having looted fields rich with ripening crops, damaged irrigation sources, and set on fire human settlements, marching on with his sword reeking of blood - Tamilakam had to pay a terrible price indeed for the implantation of the yāga culture!) The king exclaimed: “kiņaiňanai, nī puravalai emakku” = Oh expert drummer on the kiņai drum, your well-being is Our responsibility! And he proceeded to shower gifts beyond dreams on the Bard. The name “Ulōcanar” may indicate that he was a Brahmin masquerading as a Pāņar Bard, indicating the high status enjoyed by the latter, because it shows that Brahmins found it worth-while to pose as Pāņar! Caminata Aiyer (1963:26) surmises that “Ulocanar” was a Jaina, because of a Jaina rite implied by the name. If we accept this, then, it shows that, though Jaina were considered as atheists (nāstika), a King committed to the conduct of expensive Vedic yāga performances like Rājasūyam was generous enough to extend patronage based purely on considerations of  merit as a drummer rather than of birth or religious identities! (Even Kapilar, one of the most acclaimed of the Sangam Poets who became a legend in his own lifetime, proudly proclaimed that he was a “Proper” Brahmin (nē paricilan mannum antaņan - 200:13), but adopted the life-style of a Pāņar, living and commensally relishing meat-foods and quaffing alcoholic liquors together with his beloved patron and boon companion Vēļ Pāri after whose death he attached himself in a similar capacity to Cēran Celvakaţuńkō Vāli Ātan; and was “sumptuously rewarded for his effort” (Sastry KAN 2008:111).

(2) The song conveys a sense of hush-hush preparation for a surprise attack – drums muffled, fighters assembling at night. The interpretation that the drum-beater belonged to “low caste” violates the atmosphere of complicity and collusion among equals that the song seeks to convey; it indicates involvement of the entire community in the “project”. All those who could bear arms did so (but not all were selected); the young (ilicinan = lower in birth order) beat the drums. The fact that this is a plausible alternate explanation indicates that the import of the word ilicinan is not necessarily an assertion of caste.
(3) The song starts with the simile, of a farmer selecting out of his many head of cattle only the very best for ploughing the wet fields, and applies it to the gathered set of fighters who pass on the golden cup of approbation to those who are the best among them by consensus, even though the king himself chose another as his favourite. The ilicinan left to beat the drums was obviously rejected because of his juvenility and inexperience as a fighter.
Song 363
(1) The word ilippirappinon occurs in line 14 (... ilipiŗappinōn īyap perru...) of Pur.363, which is a plea for asceticism, and pontificates about the vanity of earthly acquisitions. It is addressed to no Hero in particular (potuviyal), and contains a sermon purporting to be of general import (peruńkāňci) – “innā vaikal vārāmunnē/cey nī munniya vinaiyē” (= before that day of final reckoning arrives, adopt the life of an ascetic!) As means of appeal, it narrates how even the mightiest kings, who did not give up even an insignificant part of their territory to an enemy, ended up occupying just the minimum space required in the funeral ground. It describes what is obviously a funerary rite, at which the departed spirit is believed to partake of a meal of boiled rice without salt, offered by a person described as ilipiŗappinōn (= low born male person). The Author is Aiyāţi Ciŗu Veņţēraiyār. Caminata Aiyer is not sure whether the author of Song 362, also listed as Ciŗu Veņţēraiyār, is the same person. The author of Song 362 displays an intimate knowledge of Brahmin character, but laughs at them: describing a raging battle, he tells antaņāļar (= Brahmins; here the suffix –āļar has been used to indicate a contemptuous intimacy?) that such battles have nothing to do with their four Veda-s. He also reminds them that his lord had gifted lands to them so many times that the water poured as oblations along with the gift matched in volume the very oceans! Sacrilegiously from the Brahmin viewpoint, he tells them that the Veda-s are inadequate to explain the Hero’s exploits, and that the warriors have recourse to “other means”. The song concludes with the sombre description of the burial ground, and the assertion that the Heroes fight on, knowing full well that their tenure on the world is but fleeting.
(2) Among Brahmin communities, there is a funerary rite termed ēkōdişţam (= 11th day ritual). A century back, Thurston & Rangachari (Reprint 1975: I, 303) reported:
“A Brahmin is seated to represent the prēta or dead person, and fed after going through srādh rites. As a rule, the man is a close relation of the deceased. But amongst certain classes of Brahmans, an outsider is engaged and well remunerated.” (Emphasis supplied).
Thirumalai & Manoharan (Eds) (2001:1372) mention this rite spelt as “yekodostom”, but later in the reference (p 1377), they spell it as “yekodustam”, performed on the 11th day of demise: a Brahmin priest is fed after invoking the deceased’s soul with mantra-s, after which a hōmam is performed. They add that among Sri Vaishnava Brahmins (“Iyengar”), some rites are performed on the 11th and 12th days, but only close kin participate – no more details are furnished. Menon, Tyagi & Kulirani (Eds) (2002: II, 1082) report that, among Nambuthiri Brahmins of Kerala, “ekodhistam” is performed with the chief mourner performing the srāddha, and the wife and sons of the deceased offer piņdam individually. Iyer LKA (Reprint 1981: II, 269) had also reported more or less on the same lines about a century ago.
(3) The rite described here thus narrates a custom that has survived among Brahmins of South India. Among “certain classes of Brahmins where an outsider is engaged” for this rite on a hefty fee, such “outsiders” belong to a sub-caste, cāvuņţi (= eater of the dead). They have low status, but are Brahmins, nevertheless, as they undergo the rituals prescribed for the various life-cycle rites of passage, including upanayanam in the Vedic studies, and wear the “sacred threads”. Among other Brahmin communities, a younger-born male relative (therefore ilipirapinōn) of the deceased discharges this solemn function.
(4)  Mathur PRG reported that among the Cōļanāikkar of Kerala (a “Primitive” Scheduled Tribe community who subsist on food gathering and have never taken to agriculture as a means of livelihood), there is a mortuary rite: a month or so after the death of a person, the headman (cemmakkāran) of the clan wears a dark turban; his relatives are fed, and he dances through the night around a leaf on which cooked rice is placed; the next morning, he eats the rice. Some more boiled rice is prepared and placed on another leaf to commemorate all the ancestors who had died before, but this time, a fish preparation with curry and pepper is also placed on it – the headman eats this too. (Mathur PRG 2012:322). [The Cōļanāikkar live in the naturally-occurring caves in the deep evergreen forests in Kerala at the escarpment of the towering Kundah Range forming the boundary between the Malappuram district of Kerala and the Nilgiris District of Tamil Nadu. They are remote geographically and culturally from the other ST communities of the region, and more so from the non-tribal settlements. They live in caves, and subsist by hunting and trapping, food gathering, and trading in non-forest timber produce like honey, etc. (Bhanu 1989). Their life-style resembles the earlier phase of the type described in Purs. 168 to 172 discussed above in relation to Piţţan Korran. It is significant that at the mortuary rites, it is the headman of the clan who participates of the final commemorative meal, and not a person of another community – “caste” never existed among them]!
(5) Purananuru has plenty of descriptions of rites attending to death of Marava people, e.g.,
(i) Auvvayar (Pur. 93): if a warrior “committed the sin of dying of disease” (line 5: nōypāl viļinta yākkai talīī), then his body, laid out on a bed of fresh green grass, would be cut up with a sword by “Brahmins well-versed in the four Veda-s” – it was believed that only such a rite, along with the Brahmins’ blessings, would ensure that the spirit proceeded to the heaven exclusively reserved for brave warriors who died in battle.
(ii) In fiercely contested battles, bodies of the slain would be mangled beyond recognition. Pur. 372 describes: a fireplace would be made by placing three severed heads of massacred soldiers as a triangle, a big pot placed over them, and a fire lit of the wood of kūvaļam (Aegle marmalos). The corpses would be cooked with entrails thrown in, and the stuff ladled out with a portion of a skull attached to a long pole serving as spoon. (Pur. 371 repeats essentially the same details). As not even vultures and jackals would eat this stuff, some surviving warriors would get afflatus of Goddess of War (Korruvai), and dance as ghouls (pēymakaļ), and eat it. Pur. 26 (by Māńkuţi Kilār) describes a similar rite, but mentions that Brahmins who had gained control over their senses (presumably to enable them to survive the stench of decay and of burning flesh) and were learned in Four Veda-s, would be in attendance, and thus transform it into raņāńgana yāga (= fire-sacrifice conducted on the battle-field), so that even the massacred enemies of Hero Pāņţiyan Neţuňceliyan went to Heaven.
(iii) Pur. 286 indicates that the body of the deceased would be laid on a legless cot (kālkali kaţţil) and covered with a pure white cloth. There was probably a session of mourning when the Bards sang dirges (e.g., Pur. 235, where Auvvayar does so, on the death of r patron Aňci). Pur. 237 describes that women beat their breasts; this was also the occasion when they decided whether widows and others would opt for internment or funeral along with the deceased. Perayin Muruvalar (Pur.239) opined that it did not matter whether the dead body was buried in urns or cremated. Pur. 247 describes the scene of the self-immolation of a widow.
(iv) After the disposal of the body, a memorial stone (naţukal) was planted in commemoration, with inscription describing brave deeds that he had performed (several songs). It was believed that the deceased indeed continued to “exist in” the stone, which might be decorated with a peacock feather, and to which oblations of toddy could be made (cf., for example, Pur. 232; 260). Pur. 234 narrates how a widow cleared a small space about the size of an elephant’s foot in front of the stone, smeared it with cow-dung, and placed a lump of rice cooked without salt (piņţam) on it Pur. 250 slightly varied this description; the children of the deceased too had to offer piņţam. People would pray at these stones for various boons and set offerings before them (Pur. 263, 264).
(6) The combined analysis of these recitals indicates that there were several variations in rites associated with death among communities in those times. The ritual involving the ilipiŗappinōn was specific, perhaps, for the Brahmins already implanted in Sangam society. The ilipiŗappinōn obviously belonged to the same community, and was a younger male relative. It would be erroneous from this single instance to conclude that this rite was generally adopted by all then, and much more mistaken to believe that it indicates a caste-like division. (In fact, after the caste system got well established, it would have been “unthinkable” that a person belonging to a low caste would have anything to do with a rite so solemn as feeding the departing soul of a deceased high caste person – the sūkşma sarīram (astral body) that was the soul’s vehicle on its onward journey would itself be “polluted” thereby!)
Song 183: This does not contain word ilicnan or synonyms, but has been used as evidencing the existence of “four-fold division of society” (jāti) that was “well-known” even at that time (vērrumai terinta nārpāluļļum). The author, according to the colophon, was Pāņtiyan Āriyapaţai Kaţanta Neţuňcēliyan, signifying that he had overcome an “Aryan” army in battle. This song has been used by Caminata Iyer down to Hart to “prove” that “four divisions”, which they interpret as signifying varna-s or castes, were already well-differentiated and accepted at that time. Avvai Duraiswamy Pillai disagreed, and argued that the description relates only to “Northern Aryans”, and not to conditions in Tamilakam. He was particularly disgruntled at the suggestion that classification of Vellala as Sudra that became “official” after the advent of the British had a root in the Purananuru itself. He therefore asserted that such a classification never existed in ancient Tamilakam, and that this song describes conditions elsewhere, which the author cites only to discard it.
The song addresses two issues: (i) endorses that respect, devotion should be accorded; material support provided to preceptors, (though he does not use the word ‘guru’ or any of its tadbhava forms, or equivalent in Tamil – urruļi utaviyum uru porul koţuttum pirrai nilai muniyātu karral nanrē). (ii) Then he mentions that even those born to the same mother differ in capability, and even a mother will have preferences among her children accordingly. He goes on to say that a king would prefer the learned among those born in his own lineage, irrespective of seniority in order of birth, as his advisors. He extends this principle to society in general; and asserts that even if a learned person belongs to the lowest of the four well known divisions of it, those belonging to even the highest will go to study from him, and do him honour (rrumai terinta nārpāluļļum/kīlppāl oruvan karpin/mērpāl oruvanum avankaņ paţumē).
The context is indicated by the colophon; the author was victorious after his campaign against an Aryan force. Obviously, he was delivering a judgment or concluding opinion on a discourse that he might have presided over, about Aryan societal structures. This hypothesis is supported by the two issues mentioned – they are the diagnostics of Aryan society, viz., “gurukula” system, and vaŗņāśramadharma or caste structure. In regard to the first, he accepts that respect is due to the guru, but does not specifically support the residential implication of the guru-kula; instead he urges that the disciples should sustain him with material help whenever he is in need.
In regard to vaŗņāśramadharma, he shows by the truism of difference among progeny of the same mother that inequality in accomplishments is inherent among humans. He implies that by dividing society into four classes as is “well-known” (rrumai terinta) among Aryans, we do not ensure a birth-based succession of accomplishments (jāti) within given lineages only, cf., differences in the king’s own lineage. Even if vaŗņāśramadharma is adopted, merit may be found in the lowest (lppāl oruvan); in which case even those born in the highest (rpāl oruvanum) will have to humble themselves before him – thus upsetting the apple-cart of vaŗņāśramadharma (by reductio ad absurdum)! Thus by redaction, we come to the conclusion that an implication of birth-based difference in societal status or preference (jāti) is contradicted by a contextual analysis of this Song; in other words, Avvai Duraiswami Pillai was right – the author was referring to a system that prevailed among Aryans, and was not practiced in ancient Tamilakam. And the author, the king, definitely discarded it.
Conclusion: This exercise in textual analysis of a few Purananuru songs indicates that the logic of the context is an important guide to understanding of key words. Redaction Analysis, though specialized for the interpretation of the Bible, has techniques of sufficient flexibility to be extended to probably any text in any language, and therefore is a test of logical consistency or contradiction that can be applied universally.
Bibliography:
Ambedkar B R: “Caste in India”, Indian Antiquary, Vol. XLI, (May 1917)
Anon: www.abu.nb.ca/courses/New Testament/Gospels/REDACCR.htm, posted by Atlantic Baptist University, New Brunswick, Canada.
Avvai Duraiswami Pillai: Purananuru- 1- 200 pattukal (Tamil) 4th Edn, 1964 & Do. 201-400 pattukal, 3rd Edn (1962); South India Saivasiddanta Works Printing Society, Chennai.
Bayly , Susan: Caste, Society & Politics, 1999, Cambridge University Press
Béteille, Andre: Caste, Class & Power: Changing Patterns of Stratification in a Tanjore Village, 1965, UCLA Berkeley Los Angeles.
Bhanu BA: The Cholanaikkan of Kerala, 1989, Anthropological Survey of India, Calcutta (Kolkata).
Caminataiyer, UV: Purananuru – mulamum uraiyum (Tamil), 1963, 6th Edition, Kabir Publishing House, Chennai
Caminataiyer, UV: En caritram (curukkam) (My Story (abridged), abridged by Jakannatan KV, 1958), Madras (Chennai).
Cohn, B: Colonialism & its Forms of Knowledge, 1996, Princeton University Press, USA.
Dumont  L: Homo heirarchicus – the Caste System & its implication, 1970, Vikas Publications, Delhi, etc.
Dumont  L: A  South Indian Sub-caste: Social Organization & Religion of the Pramalai Kallar, 1986, Oxford University Press.
Hart GL & Heifetz: The Purananuru, 2002, Translation in English, Penguin Books.
Hart GL: “Early Evidence for Caste in South India”, in Hockings, Paul (Ed)., 1987, Essays in Honour of David R Mendelbaum, Berlin
Iyer, L.K. Ananthakrishna: The Tribes & Castes of Cochin, 1981, Reprint, Cosmo Publications, N. Delhi
Kailasapathy K: Tamil Heroic Poetry, 1968, Clarendon Press, Oxford.
Majumndar DN 1984, quoted in Sharma BD: Planning for Tribal Development, Prachi Prakashan, N. Delhi.
Mandelbaum DG: Society in India, 1970, Popular Prakashan, Bombay (Mumbai).
Mathur PRG: “Tribal Religion in South India”, in Singh, S (Ed): Tribal Religions, 2012, Centre for Studies in Civilizations, N. Delhi, pp 307-347.
Marxsen, Willi: Mark the Evangelist, 1956 (Original edition not seen);
Menon TM, Tyagi & Kulirani (Eds): People of India, Kerala, Vol. XXVII, Part III, 2002, Anthropological Survey of India, N. Delhi.
Menon TM; The Purananuru, 2011, Translation in English, International School of Dravidian Linguistics, Thiruvananthapuram
Mulley, Rev. Philip K: Personal communication, letter dated 16 Jan 2013. He cited the four Pur. songs analysed here.
Perrin, Norman: What is Redaction Criticism?, New Testament Series, Philadelphia, Fortress 1969 (Original edition not seen);
Pillai Auvvai Duraiswamy: Purananuru 1-200 pattukal (Tamil), 1964, 4th Edn, South India Saiva Siddanta Works Publishing Society, Chennai
Pillai Auvvai Duraiswamy: Purananuru 201-400 pattukal (Tamil), 1962, 3rd Edn, ditto.
Ramanujam AK: in Dharwadkar V, (General Editor): The Collected Essays of A.K. Ramanujam, 1999, Oxford University Press.
Sasthry KAN: A History of South India from Prehistoric Times to the Fall of Vijayanagar, various editions, Oxford University Press
Sastry K.A.N: The Colas, 2008, 27th Impression (with introduction by Champakalakshmi), University of Madras, Chennai
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31 December 2012/18 Feb 2013/27 March 2013/8 April 2014.
T. Madhava Menon, Senior Fellow, International School of Dravidian Linguistics, Thiruvananthapuram




[1] The following would be the respective contrasting paraphrases

If the word ilicinan means “low caste”

If the word ilicinan means “young in age”
“Look at that low caste cobbler! He is in a hurry because his wife is in labor and he wants to attend the festival in his village! Yet he makes no mistake in his (despised, “dirty”) job of upholstering a cot. The king is just like that low caste chap in the way he plies his craft of battle in his hurry to kill off his enemy!”
“Look at that young cobbler! He is so young that his priorities are all confused between attending to his wife in labor and the festival in his village. Yet he gets through his job of upholstering a cot in a masterly way. Just like our king, who, with such sure skill in battle, and energy of youth, dispatches of his foes!”

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