Pioneering Indian woman anthropologist who challenged Nazi racial theories

Irawati Karve led a life that set her apart from those around her.

Born in British India, and at a time when women did not have many rights and freedoms, Karve did the unthinkable: she did her higher education in a foreign country, became a university professor and India’s first female anthropologist.

She also married a man of her own choosing, swam in a bathing suit, drove a scooter, and dared to challenge a racist hypothesis from her PhD supervisor—a famous German anthropologist named Eugen Fischer.

His writings on Indian culture and civilization and its caste system are ground-breaking and form part of the curriculum in Indian universities. However, he remains an obscure figure in history and many things about his life are unknown.

A new book titled Iru: The Remarkable Life of Irawati Karve, written by her granddaughter Urmilla Deshpande and academic Thiago Pinto Barbosa, sheds light on her fascinating life and the many opportunities she dared to pave an inspiring path for women and men. who came after him.

Born in Burma (now Myanmar) in 1905, Irawati was named after the Irrawaddy River. The only girl among six siblings, she was loved by her family and grew up comfortably.

But the young girl’s life took unexpected turns, and experiences were created that would shape her as a person. In addition to strong women, Irawati’s life also intersected with empathetic and forward-thinking men who paved the way and encouraged her to break barriers.

At the age of seven, Irawati was sent to boarding school in Pune – a rare choice by her father when most girls were encouraged to marry. In Pune, he met RP Paranjpye, a renowned educationist whose family officially adopted Irawati and raised him as his own.

In the Paranjpye household, Irawati was exposed to a lifestyle that celebrated critical thinking and upright living, even if it meant going against Indian society. Paranjpye, who Irawati fondly called “appa” or his “second father”, was a man way ahead of his times.

A university director and staunch supporter of women’s education, she was also an atheist. Through him, Irawati got to know the fascinating world of social sciences and its impact on society.

When Irawati decided to pursue a PhD in anthropology in Berlin, despite the objections of her biological father, she found support in Paranjpye and her husband, Dinkar Karve, a science teacher.

He arrived in the German city in 1927, after a long day’s journey by boat, and began his degree under the tutelage of the famous professor of anthropology and eugenics, Fischer.

At that time, Germany was reeling from the effects of the First World War and Hitler had not yet come to power. But the specter of anti-Semitism was beginning to rear its ugly head. Irawati witnessed this hatred one day when he learned that a Jewish student in his building had been killed.

In the book, the authors describe Irawati’s fear, shock and disgust when she saw the man’s body lying on the sidewalk outside her building, blood all over the concrete.

Irawati wrestled with these emotions while working on the thesis assigned to him by Fischer: to prove that white Europeans were more logical and reasonable – and therefore racially independent – than non-white Europeans. This involved meticulously examining and measuring 149 human skulls.

Fischer hypothesized that white Europeans had asymmetrical skulls to accommodate larger right frontal lobes, presumably a marker of higher intelligence. However, Irawati’s research found no correlation between race and cranial asymmetry.

“It contradicted Fischer’s hypothesis, of course, but also the theories of that institute and the leading theories of the time,” the authors write in the book.

He boldly presented his findings, risking the wrath of his mentor and his own degree. Fischer gave it the lowest grade, but his research critically and scientifically rejected the use of human differences to justify discrimination. (Later, the Nazis would use Fischer’s theories of racial superiority to further their agenda and Fischer would join the Nazi party.)

Throughout her life, Irawati would display this streak of passion combined with endless empathy, especially for the women she encountered.

At a time when it was unthinkable for a woman to travel too far from home, Irawati took trips to remote villages in India after returning home, sometimes with her male colleagues, sometimes with students and even her own children. , to study the life of various tribes.

He joined archaeological expeditions to recover 15,000-year-old bones, bridging the past and the present. These grueling journeys took him through forests and rugged terrain for weeks or months, he describes in the book sleeping in barns or truck beds and often going days with little food.

Irawati also bravely faced social and personal prejudices while interacting with people from all walks of life.

The authors describe how Irawati, a Chitpavan Brahmin from a traditionally vegetarian upper-caste Hindu community, ate partially raw meat offered to him by a tribal leader he wanted to learn. She recognized it as a gesture of friendship and a test of loyalty, responding with openness and curiosity.

His studies fostered a deep empathy for humanity, which later led him to criticize the fundamentalism of religions, including Hinduism. He believed that India belonged to everyone who called it home.

The book recounts a moment, reflecting on the horrors inflicted on the Jews by the Nazis, when Irawati’s mind went to a startling realization that would change the outlook on humanity forever.

“In these reflections, Irawati learned the most difficult lesson in Hindu philosophy: that you are everything too,” the authors write.

Irawati died in 1970, but his legacy lives on through his work and the people he continues to inspire.