Vidya Ramachandran - GCIDS2017

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Table of ContentsPrivileged Hybrids: Examining ‘our own’ in the Indian-Australian diaspora . 2Introduction . 2Data collection and methodology. 3The Indian diaspora in Australia: navigating ‘Indianness’ and ‘Australianness’ . 4Towards ‘Indianness’: the gradual dissolution of regional/linguistic identity . 7‘Hinduness’ and ‘Indianness’ . 8A model minority . 9Unpacking caste: privilege and denial . 10Conclusion. 13Vidya Ramachandran1

Privileged Hybrids: Examining ‘our own’ in the Indian-Australian diasporaIntroductionIn April, the ‘Indian Wedding Race’ hit television screens across Australia (Cousins 2015).The first segment in a three-part series on multicultural Australia distributed by the SBS, thedocumentary follows two young Indian-Australians in their quest to get married before theage of thirty.Twenty-nine year-old Dalvinder Gill-Minhas was born and raised in Melbourne. Dalvinder’sfamily members are practicing Sikhs from the Indian state of Punjab who migrated toAustralia in the 1980s. She describes her childhood as marked by attendance at Punjabischool and the Gurudwara, while at the same time “trying to fit into modern Aussie culture”.Her father is adamant that she marries a fellow Sikh – preferably one with a turban, markinghis religiosity and deference to the founders of his faith. He leans over her shoulder as shecreates an account on a popular Indian matrimonial website, Shaadi.com.“Religion, doesn’t matter”, she says firmly.“What?” her father replies. “You are a Sikh. It has to be a Sikh”.“Okay so it obviously matters to you”, she concedes.The ‘Indian Wedding Race’ is spattered with seemingly innocuous glimpses at religious,caste and cultural background, almost invisible to anyone unfamiliar with marriage in theIndian context. But for many Indians living overseas, it is imperative that we marry one of“our own” (Abraham 2005, p. 433). Our conceptions of ‘our own’ vary, but usually rest on“distinctions of region, class, caste, community, and education [which] serve as boundariesfor identification and mark out self from others” (Gopalkrishnan and Babacan 2007, p. 509).This paper examines young Indian-Australians’ understandings of ‘their own’, exploredthrough their perspectives on marriage and intimate relationships. Drawing upon the theoryof cultural hybridity, I find that diasporans are constantly negotiating their cultural values ‘inbetween’ their Indian roots and their existence as an ethnic minority in Australia. Inconsidering what they want in a spouse, diasporans are forced to choose which of theirboundaries of identity are most valuable, and which they want to retain and reproduce. I2

found that participants in this study had negotiated an essentialised sense of ‘Indianness’, acohesive ethnic consciousness defined by a homogeneous conception of Indian culture and itsdifference from the Australian cultural majority. However, upon further interrogation, I foundthat this sense of ‘Indianness’ was not as cohesive as it initially seemed, and that region,language, caste1, class and religion still play a role in shaping the ‘Indianness’ felt andexpressed by this diasporic community.This paper marks an important intervention into the study of the Indian diaspora in Australia.Few studies have explored identity in relation to the specific diasporic communitydemarcated here. This research holds further value for two reasons. Firstly, I believe thatsimply producing work on the experiences of non-white immigrants helps, in some smallway, to challenge the sometimes-exclusionary cultural framework of the white settler state.Secondly, I am conscious that the mostly privileged young diasporans on whom this studyfocuses may carry tacitly discriminatory or regressive attitudes that may play out in theirmost personal decisions. In a study of young users of Indian matrimonial websites in NorthAmerica, Sharma (2008, p. 137) states, “it is imperative that this group of privileged hybridsbe questioned on their identity production in terms of disruptive or productive possibilitiesand retrogressive practices”. Similarly, I believe that diasporic understandings of religion,caste, class or other divisive boundaries of identity should be publicly articulated, analysedand where necessary, scrutinised. So many of our biases go otherwise unchallenged. I hopethis work contributes in some way to recognising and challenging our ingrained prejudices.Data collection and methodologyData was collected through in-depth, semi-structured interviews with 22 young Australians ofIndian origin, conducted over July-August 2016.2 All participants were either born inAustralia, or had migrated from India to Australia with their parents as very young children. 31This paper takes ‘caste’ to mean both varna and jati. While some scholars distinguish between these twocategories, I adopt a fluid understanding of caste informed by Béteille’s (1964) finding that these concepts areoften conflated, e.g. Tamilians in his fieldwork used the word jati to describe many referents of their identities,including varna, jati and doctrinal identity. My findings in this study were similar. When prompted to identifytheir own caste, some participants only mentioned their varna identity, such as Brahmin or Kshatriya. Somerevealed their jati identities, such as Rajput or Bania. Caste is therefore understood by these participants asmeaning both varna and jati.2Note that this research was originally completed as part of an 8-month honours thesis project and was thussubject to considerable time and resource constraints. Participants were recruited in three main ways: throughadvertisements circulated through Indian community organisations, through social media, and through theresearcher’s own informal personal networks.3

Although these boundaries were not identified in the inclusion criteria, all participantsultimately deemed eligible for the study were, like myself, Hindu, upper middle-class andupper-caste. The majority of Indian migrants within the second-wave are upper-caste andclass (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001). The demographic of this sample universe hasundoubtedly influenced the findings of this study, which are specific to this privilegedgroup’s experiences.4Of the final 22 interviewees, 15 were female and 7 were male. All participants were agedbetween 18 and 31, and none were married, though some were in long-term relationships andone was undergoing the process of introductions to find a spouse. Like most studies ofmarriage in the Indian context, this study focuses exclusively on heterosexual intimacy.The Indian diaspora in Australia: navigating ‘Indianness’ and ‘Australianness’The subjects of this study are situated within the second major wave of Indian migration, the“new diaspora of late capital”, which emerged from the mid to late 20th century (Mishra1996, p. 422). This movement is mostly composed of skilled professionals seeking economicopportunities in industrialised countries such as the United States, United Kingdom, Canadaand Australia (Rangaswamy 2000; Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001; Voigt-Graf 2004; Bhatia2007). In Australia, this movement accelerated with the relaxation of the ‘White Australia’Policy in 1966, and its abolition in 1971.5These migrants:belonged to various religious, linguistic and cultural groups. They were not, however,a typical cross-section of Indian society, being far better educated, more urbanised,more proficient in English and much less likely to be Hindus or Muslims than those inIndia (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001, p. 428)3In keeping with literature on migration, participants born in Australia are classified as members of the secondgeneration, and those who migrated under the age of 12 are classified as the ‘1.5 generation’ (Bartley andSpoonley 2012).4It is likely that my own background and networks impacted upon my access to participants. Additionally, theoriginal advertisement for this study outlined its focus on caste: it is possible that, even if made aware of thestudy, lower castes, Dalits or Adivasis may not wish to speak about caste, due to past trauma or negativeexperiences.5The ‘White Australia’ policy refers to various policies that comprised Australia’s approach to immigrationuntil the latter-20th century, which restricted immigration to people of European descent.4

Many of these migrants are Anglo-Indians; people of mixed European and Indian descent,whose experiences of migration and settlement are distinct from many other second-waveIndians (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001).6 Further, many of Australia’s ‘Indians’ are actuallydescended from groups who have migrated again from countries such as Fiji and Malaysia(Voigt-Graf 2004). Smaller migrations from India to Australia that cannot be comfortablyaccommodated within either of these waves have also occurred.7 Each of these groups has adistinct history; and is considered outside the scope of this study (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf2001; Voigt-Graf 2004).8This group is analytically comparable to diasporic communities in other Western contexts,characterised by the voluntary nature of their migration, contact with kinship networks inIndia and the maintenance of a fluid relationship with their homeland and counterparts inother parts of the world (Mishra 1996; Tölölyan 1996; Bhatia and Ram 2004; Voigt-Graf2004; Rangaswamy 2005). In keeping with the literature on second-wave diasporiccommunities, I found that participants’ experiences were characterised by ‘in-betweenness’.They exhibited a strong sense of being ‘in-between’ two worlds, straddling multiple“hyphenated selves” (Bhatia and Ram 2004, p. 226). Ruma, who attends university inregional Australia, states, “when I’m in India, I feel like I’m too Australian, and when I’m incountry Australia, I feel like I’m too Indian and not Aussie enough”. Aparna’s experience issimilar. She states, “I just feel like I’m constantly in this place where I’m trying to figure outthe place between the two I feel like my views have changed over time, even go back andforth”. Caught in an “ethnographic performance” between two cultural systems, they areconstantly negotiating their own cultural values, which often intensifies through criticalexperiences such as marriage and intimacy (Ibrahim 2008, p. 239).6Anglo-Indians were classified as ‘Eurasians’ and were permitted to migrate to the West before while restrictiveimmigration laws were still in place. As they generally have European names, speak English as their firstlanguage and practice Christianity, their experiences of settlement have been distinct from those of Indians fromother religious and linguistic backgrounds. Anglo-Indians may have a troublesome relationship with their Indianancestry due to experiences of exclusion and discrimination in India and in some cases, have demonstrated adesire for distance from their Indian roots. They have also demonstrated a preference for marrying Christianspouses from various ethnic backgrounds; their conception of ‘their own’ therefore varies significantly from thatof other Indian diasporans (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001).7Smaller migrations from India to Australia include: small groups of male labourers accompanying Britishsubjects settling in India in 1800-1860; followed by waves of agricultural labourers, hawkers and pedlars,mainly from Punjabi Sikh and Muslim backgrounds, who settled in small towns and rural settlements in NewSouth Wales, Victoria and Queensland in 1860s-1901. This latter wave ended with the passage of theImmigration Restriction Act 1901 (Bilimoria and Voigt-Graf 2001; Voigt-Graf 2004)8Note that one of my participants has one Indo-Fijian parent, and one Indian-born parent (see Appendix A). Ashe had been raised within a second-wave community, I decided that fulfilled the criteria.5

Madan (2000, p. 25) states that “Australia’s diasporic Indians are more likely to use termssuch as the community, our people, and the national label of the homeland, Indian, asopposed to the nation of citizenship, Australian”. Interestingly, in this study, participants’affiliations with their ‘Indianness’ or ‘Australianness’ varied. Ashima’s reflection on heridentity acknowledges the intergenerational difference between herself and her parents, asshe states, “I’m much more Australian than my parents are”. Pranab differs, stating, “Iidentify more as an Indian than an Australian even though I’ve lived here most of my life”.Still, others felt the need to emphasise their ‘Indianness’ even while identifying as‘Australian’. Rahul’s take on his identity is blunt: “when people look at you, they see anIndian person. And then when you turn around and say well no I’m actually Australian, that’sdisingenuous, because you’re not, you know what I mean”. Bhatia (2007, p. 12) notes asimilar moment with a participant, whose description of American culture was, “it’s themajority white culture So either you’re part of it, or you’re not part of it. If you’re white,you’re part of it. If you’re not white, then you’re not part of it”. Similarly, in a study ofGujaratis in New Zealand, Gilbertson (2008, p. 45) finds that “some were more explicit insuggesting they were unable to be full New Zealanders because they were notWhite/European/Pakeha New Zealanders”. Participants seemed wholly aware that they couldnot escape their Indianness due to their visible racial and ethnic difference.9Diasporic marriage and intimacyParticipants’ perspectives on marriage and intimate relationships keenly illustrated theirambivalent state of in-betweenness. They often struggled to negotiate large and seeminglyirreconcilable differences between ‘Indian’ and ‘Western’ conceptions of marriage andintimate relationships. The ‘Indian’ view was represented by their parents’ expectations,which emphasised marriage to someone from a similar cultural background, having childrenand reproducing an Indian home. The ‘Western’ was represented in the views of their friendsand acquaintances from the majority society, which emphasised romantic attraction,independence, dating and sexual freedom.9It should be noted that no participants attempted to define ‘Australian culture’ or explain what it was to be‘Aussie’. I noted that they often used ‘Australian’ and ‘Western’ interchangeably. In similar studies in NewZealand, Bernau (2006) and Gilbertson (2008) find that their participants find no meaningful differencesbetween the cultures of New Zealand and of other Western countries.6

Most participants intended or desired to be married in the future. All participants agreed thatthey were raised expecting that they would get married. Rahul questioned whether this was anecessarily Indian attitude, stating, “everyone expects you to do that stuff”. Similarly, Ushatook the view that marriage was important in many cultures, but believed that its importancein Indian culture stems from its position as one of the 16 samskaras, or rites of passage, in theHindu life-cycle. Ashima believes marriage is highly valued among Indians, stating that inher family, “it’s always been a when, not an if”.Similarly, Laxmi states that marriage is:kind of ingrained in our culture since young, it’s been like you know, learn aboutthe customs, tradition, learn about the food all things kind of pointing to, you needto do this when you get married.For Indians living overseas, marriage provides a further opportunity to maintain andreproduce Indian culture abroad. I thus frame marriage as a juncture at which diasporans areforced to make critical decisions in their processes of identity negotiation. Below, I discussthe impact of specific boundaries of identity on these processes.Towards ‘Indianness’: the gradual dissolution of regional/linguistic identityVery few participants seemed to strongly identify with their regional heritage. An exceptionwas Shoba, who states, “when people ask me where are you from, I always say ‘South India’,I make that assertion”. On the other hand, Ruma actively rejects identification with herPunjabi heritage. She states:the stereotype of Punjabis is very loud and boisterous and they eat meat and theydrink alcohol and just very blingy. And that’s just not my personality, at all. Notonly have I not been brought up that way, it’s just not who I am.Several participants mentioned socialising mainly with other people of Indian or South Asiandescent from diverse backgrounds. Sudha, who is from a Tamilian background, speaks ofhaving Bengali friends. Ashima has a wide network of South Asian friends, includingPakistanis. She states, “I personally see no difference between all of us we eat similar food,have the same morals, values it’s just the language that’s different”. For some, these7

friendships were the result of conscious choice. Kaushik joined the Hindu society to meetother Indians. He states, “you kind of feel comfortable amongst your own people that’s mypersonal opinion”. Hema concurs that she is generally inclined towards Indians, stating, “it’sjust natural”. Ashima notes that it is no coincidence that all her friends at university are SouthAsian, as “when it comes to curfews and what restrictions we have on our social life, we allhave the same ones”.However, this identification is not consistently inclusive, and varies between individuals.Usha states that “Fiji Indian culture is very different to Indian culture the Hindi language isdifferent it’s not the same”. Others recognised that there were large differences betweenNorth and South Indian cultures, even while having mixed friends.Many participants agreed that their friendship circles reflected their preferences in partners.Pranab agrees that he is mostly attracted to other South Asians, stating, “most of my friendsare brown, it just turns out that way”. Roopa states that she is primarily physically attracted toIndians, which she similarly attributes to being in a mainly Indian social circle. She notes thather Indian friends with more diverse social circles generally date outside their cultural group.Kaushik’s experience differs. Despite his preference for Indian friends, he has never datedany Indians. In fact, his longest relationship was with a Muslim international student fromIndonesia. When I point out this inconsistency, he pauses and laughs, before agreeing, “it’s agood point it’s just the way things happened”. He notes that some of his friends wereconfused by his relationship, and that most of them date other Indians.Some participants identified language as an important aspect of their identity. Rumaprioritises finding a Hindi-speaking spouse so they will integrate more easily into her family,as her mother is far more comfortable in Hindi than in English. Shoba, Sonia and Rohin allwish to teach their children their mothertongues. All of these participants were howeverwilling to compromise on linguistic identity in a spouse.‘Hinduness’ and ‘Indianness’Religion had a more explicit impact on participants’ conception of ‘their own’ with respect topotential partners. These perspectives at times reflected some elements of Hindutva ideology,which is notorious for the ‘Othering’ of other religious communities, opposition toconversion to other religions and a deep fear of interreligious marriage (Gupta 2009;8

Mohammad-Arif 2007). Several participants, both female and male, stated that their parentswould not accept Muslim partners, du

In April, the ‘Indian Wedding Race’ hit television screens across Australia (Cousins 2015). The first segment in a three-part series on multicultural Australia distributed by the SBS, the documentary follows two young Indian-Australian