Indian female anthropologist, pioneer who challenged Nazi racial theories

Iravati Karve led a life that was different from those around her.

Born in British-ruled India at a time when women did not have many rights or freedoms, Karve did the unthinkable: she continued her education in a foreign country, becoming a college professor and India’s first female anthropologist.

She also married the man of her choice, swam in a swimsuit, rode a scooter and even dared to refute the racist hypothesis of her doctoral dissertation supervisor – a famous German anthropologist named Eugen Fischer.

Her writings on Indian culture and civilization and its caste system are groundbreaking and form part of the curriculum in Indian colleges. Still, she remains an obscure figure in history, and much about her life remains unknown.

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

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

But the young girl’s life took unexpected turns that led to experiences that shaped her as a person. In addition to strong women, Irawati’s life also intersected with empathetic, progressive men who paved the way for her to overcome barriers and encouraged her along the way.

At the age of seven, Irawati was sent to a boarding school in Pune, a rare opportunity from her father when most girls were being pushed into marriage. In Pune, she met RP Paranjpye, a well-known educationist, whose family unofficially adopted Iravati and raised her as their own.

In Paranjpi’s family, Irawati encountered a way of life that celebrated critical thinking and righteous living, even if it meant going against Indian society. Paranjpye, whom Iravati fondly called ‘appa’ or her ‘second father’, was a man way ahead of his time.

A college principal and staunch supporter of women’s education, he was also an atheist. Through him, Irawati discovered the fascinating world of social sciences and their impact on society.

When Iravati decided to pursue a doctorate in anthropology in Berlin, despite her biological father’s objections, she found support in Paranjpye and her husband, science professor Dinkar Karve.

She arrived in the German city in 1927 after a several-day journey by ship and began her degree under Fischer, a famous professor of anthropology and eugenics.

At that time, Germany had not yet experienced the effects of the First World War, and Hitler had not yet come to power. But the specter of anti-Semitism began to rear its ugly head. Irawati witnessed this hatred when she learned one day that a Jewish student in her building had been murdered.

In the book, the authors describe the fear, shock and disgust Irawati felt when she saw the man’s body lying on the footpath outside her building, blood dripping onto the concrete.

Irawati wrestled with these emotions while working on the thesis set forth by Fisher: to prove that white Europeans were more logical and intelligent – and thus racially superior – to non-white Europeans. This involved the careful study and measurement of 149 human skulls.

Fisher suggested that white Europeans had an asymmetric skull to accommodate a larger right frontal lobe, presumably indicating higher intelligence. However, Irawati’s studies found no correlation between race and cranial asymmetry.

“Of course, it contradicted Fischer’s hypothesis, but it also contradicted the theories of this institute and the main theories of the time,” the authors write in the book.

She boldly presented her findings, risking the wrath of her teacher and her degree. Fisher gave her the lowest grade, but her research critically and scientifically rejected the use of human differences to justify discrimination. (The Nazis would later use Fischer’s theories of racial superiority to advance their agenda, and Fischer would join the Nazi Party.)

Throughout her life, Irawati displayed this streak of intelligence 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, after returning home, went on excursions to remote villages in India, sometimes with her male colleagues, sometimes with her students and even her children. , to study the lifestyle of different tribes.

She participated in archaeological expeditions to recover 15,000-year-old bones, connecting the past and the present. These grueling trips took her deep into forests and across rugged terrain for weeks or months at a time, with the book describing her sleeping in barns or trucks and often going days without food.

Irawati also bravely faced societal and personal prejudices as she interacted with people from all walks of life.

The authors describe how Irawati, a Chitpavan Brahmin from a traditionally vegetarian, upper-caste Hindu community, bravely ate partially raw meat offered to her by a tribal leader she wanted to study. She took it as a gesture of friendship and a test of loyalty, and responded with openness and curiosity.

Her research nurtured a deep empathy for humanity, which led her later to criticize the fundamentalism of various religions, including Hinduism. She believed that India belonged to everyone who called it home.

The book recounts the moment when, reflecting on the horrors the Nazis inflicted on the Jews, Irawati’s mind wanders to a startling realization that will change her view of humanity forever.

“In these reflections, Irawati learned the most difficult lesson of Hindu philosophy: all that is and you,” the authors write.

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