Despite getting exposed left, right and centre, Dravidianists seem unapologetic in pushing their false narrative about Brahmins. Rather than reassessing their position, they appear to be recalibrating their strategy following the collapse of the carefully constructed image of E.V. Ramasamy Naicker, (hailed as ‘Periyar’ by his followers) and the Dravidian ideology. But in an age where data speaks loud and clear, stealing the achievements of others and crediting them to their ideological figurehead simply won’t hold up.

A glaring example of this desperation is Kolathur Mani, President of Dravidar Viduthalai Kazhagam (DVK), who has long displayed open hostility toward Brahmins. Now, he’s resorting to spreading falsehoods to keep Dravidian loyalists clinging to the collapsing ideology. At a public event organized by the Cuddalore DVK, Mani boldly made a series of baseless claims—twisting historical facts beyond recognition and passing off personal opinions as absolute truth. His speech not only attacked the Indian education system during the British era but also shamelessly hijacked the legacy of Rettamalai Srinivasan, a respected Scheduled Caste activist from the Madras Presidency, crediting his contributions to EVR with a completely fabricated narrative. This isn’t just distortion—it’s intellectual theft. And no matter how many layers of lies are added, the truth always rises above.

Attacking Dharampal’s Findings

In a clear attempt to distort the well-documented findings of Gandhian thinker, historian, and political philosopher Dharampal, Kolathur Mani has taken aim at The Beautiful Tree: Indigenous Indian Education in the Eighteenth Century. Dharampal’s work, based on exhaustive research of original British colonial records—surveys commissioned by the East India Company and preserved in archives across the UK—exposes the deep-rooted and decentralized education system that existed in India prior to British rule. His findings dismantle the popular “Brahmin-dominated villainy” narrative, revealing that education was widespread and inclusive, with a large number of non-Brahmin students and teachers.

Ironically, the very followers of EVR who once propagated the falsehood that India had no education system before the British, now find themselves reluctantly acknowledging that not only did such a system exist, but it was in fact more diverse than they had claimed. And yet, unable to digest this historical truth, Kolathur Mani has launched a desperate attack to discredit Dharampal’s research—labeling it as RSS propaganda.

At a recent event, Kolathur Mani claimed, “Our people will even say now, ‘Did only Macaulay come and give us education?’ It was before that. There’s a book called ‘The Beautiful Tree,’ written by an RSS man. He has written about the state of education in India. Our people speak without reading it right. Some speak after learning about it on WhatsApp, while others just read the headlines of articles and talk without delving deeper. No one reads about the book; only if you read will you come to know. In the book, he claims that there were schools present—it discusses the number of schools in each districts, the number of girls enrolled, and everything is true, and also included the subjects taught. But what were the subjects? Astrology, cooking, and the Vedas—this was the syllabus. While learning these they claim to have had schools, were they really schools? It’s a gurukulam. Gurukulam means you go to someone’s house, work there, eat, and learn from them.”

He then brings up ‘Sivananda Gurukulam’ and pushes the worn-out claim that only Brahmins were permitted to study the Vedas—another baseless narrative intended to stoke division and sustain the falsehood that traditional education was exclusively for a certain caste. Mani also claimed that the British enacted a law in 1835 granting Scheduled Castes the right to sit on chairs—an assertion with no historical evidence to support it. He went further, saying the British also gave them the right to purchase land, again without citing any credible data or sources to back such claims.

The Truth?

Upon closer scrutiny, it becomes evident that there was no specific British law that explicitly granted lower castes the right to sit on chairs, as the two-bit Dravidianist Mani claims. The often-cited Caste Disabilities Removal Act of 1850 did not deal with social customs like seating rights but was instead aimed at removing legal disadvantages for those who converted from Hinduism to other religions—primarily to ensure legal protections for converts, particularly in matters of property and inheritance. The British motive was clearly centered on encouraging conversions, not on promoting social justice.

In a similar vein, the two-bit propagandist Kolathur Mani continue to push the distorted narrative that pre-British India lacked a proper educational system. This claim doesn’t hold up against the depth of historical research.

The Reality Of The Beautiful Tree

The title of Dharampal’s book, The Beautiful Tree, actually comes from Mahatma Gandhi’s 1931 address at Chatham House in London. There, Gandhi lamented that India had become more illiterate under British rule than it was in earlier centuries. He criticized British officials for uprooting an already-functioning native education system, calling it “a beautiful tree” that was destroyed when colonial administrators dismissed indigenous institutions as inadequate and replaced them with their own rigid models.

Dharampal’s motivation wasn’t to vilify British rule but to understand how Indian society and institutions functioned in the 18th and early 19th centuries. His work revealed that education in India was delivered through diverse institutions like pathshalas, madrasahs, and gurukulas, and that these were often maintained by local communities—including even illiterate villagers—through shared contributions. Referring to Sir Thomas Munro, then Governor of Madras, Dharampal quotes: “Every village had a school.” He further argued that using the word “school” does not fully capture the social and cultural role these institutions played.

The Comprehensive Survey

The backbone of Dharampal’s research was a comprehensive survey of indigenous education in the Madras Presidency, conducted between 1822 and 1825. This survey, overlooked by previous scholars, collected responses from District Collectors across 21 districts. It recorded not only the number of students and teachers but also detailed their caste, gender, and religion. The categories included Brahmins, Vaishyas, Shudras, Muslims, and “other castes”—a group that likely included many who would today be recognized as Scheduled Castes. Dharampal observed that schools were predominantly filled with students from non-Brahmin and lower caste backgrounds.

Students typically began their studies between the ages of five and eight and could spend five to fifteen years in school. School days started at dawn and continued until sunset, with short breaks in between. A wide array of books were used to teach subjects like reading, writing, and arithmetic. For instance, the District Collector of Bellary listed texts such as the Ramayana, Mahabharata, Panchatantra, and various regional Puranas. Other schools used Arabic and Persian texts like the Quran and Gulistan, especially in madrasahs.

Teachers also came from a variety of caste backgrounds. According to an 1836 British report from Bengal, while many educators were Brahmins or Kayasthas, a significant number came from lower castes, including Dalits like the Chandals. While higher education in Sanskrit religious texts was mostly restricted to Brahmins, other disciplines—such as medicine, astronomy, and ethics—attracted students from broader caste groups.

Education for girls was limited, though not absent. In most regions, girls, especially those from Muslim and lower caste families, were taught at home by relatives or private tutors. Exceptions existed in places like Malabar and Vishakhapatnam, where more girls from upper caste and Muslim communities attended school. The decline of indigenous education wasn’t due to a lack of quality, but rather the British taxation system, which cut off the revenue streams that had historically sustained local educational institutions.

Based on the above, it’s clear that propagandist Kolathur Mani not only dismisses well-documented historical research but also distorts the true nature of India’s traditional education system, reducing it to a mere caricature. Rather than confronting facts with reasoned critique, he resorts to labeling a scholarly work as ideological propaganda—revealing both an intellectual weakness and a deliberate misrepresentation of history.

Lies About ICS Peddled By Kolathur Mani

Kolathur Mani didn’t stop at his distortions at surface-level; he went further to allege that the Indianisation of the Indian Civil Service (ICS) was primarily driven by non-Brahmin associations and Dravidian ideologues. Mani claimed, “There were no high-ranking positions for Indians in this country—no Indian held posts such as Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP), Deputy Collector, or Revenue Divisional Officer (RDO); all such were occupied by the British. Then, a demand arose. The Congress started a party, but it was not originally a party formed for India’s independence. It was more a association like a residents’ welfare association—an association of Indians that merely raised demands and nothing more. The first demand they (Non-Brahmin Association) kept was to provide service (administrative) to Indians. Their resolution called for the Indianisation of public services. What did that mean? It meant they were asking for posts like RDO and DSP to be opened to Indians. At that time, Indians were not allowed to sit for the ICS exams. They made the demand—and eventually, it was granted.”

However, this narrative is historically misleading.

The Truth?

The Charter Act of 1853 had already laid the foundation for Indian entry into the ICS by opening up the service to Indians and separating the executive and legislative functions of the Governor-General’s council—decades before the Non-Brahmin Movement formally began in 1916.

In reality, several key figures and organizations championed the cause of Indian representation in the civil services. Dadabhai Naoroji, often referred to as the Grand Old Man of India, persistently argued that excluding Indians from the ICS was both unjust and economically harmful. As an MP in the British Parliament (1892–1895), he advocated for the exams to be held in India.

Likewise, Surendranath Banerjee, an Ex-ICS officer turned nationalist leader, mobilized public sentiment through the Indian Association, founded in 1876, making the demand for holding the ICS exams in India a central issue. The Indian National Congress (INC), from its earliest sessions in the 1880s, passed consistent resolutions pushing for simultaneous exams in India and Britain and sought adjustments in age and qualification criteria to allow broader Indian participation.

Leaders like Gopal Krishna Gokhale and Annie Besant also played vital roles in this reform movement. Besant, despite being British, supported Indian self-rule and advocated for administrative reforms, including local conduct of ICS exams, through the Home Rule Movement. Even some British-led bodies, such as the Islington Commission in 1912, acknowledged the demand, although they often offered only partial support. The breakthrough came in 1922 when the ICS exams began to be conducted simultaneously in India and England.

Amidst all these efforts, one significant yet often overlooked figure was Rettamalai Srinivasan, a Scheduled Caste activist from Tamil Nadu played a pioneering role even before every others in the state by submitting multiple petitions to the colonial government demanding that the ICS exams be held in India—well ahead of many others and without the backing of elite organizations, making his contribution especially notable.

Yet, without hesitation, Mani attempted to appropriate the legacy and achievements of national leaders to support his misleading narrative—that E.V. Ramasamy (EVR) and the Dravidian movement were solely responsible for India’s major milestones. This narrative, like many others he promotes, is a distortion of historical facts.

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The post Dravidianist Kolathur Mani Attacks Gandhian Dharampal To Peddle Hate Against Brahmins appeared first on The Commune.

The shameless Bollywood director Anurag Kashyap, who has openly expressed hostility toward the Hindu Brahmin community, has offered a half-hearted apology after facing backlash for his remark about urinating on Brahmins. In response to the outrage, he claimed the statement was taken out of context, though it appeared to stem from a long-standing resentment he harbors against the community.

In a recent Instagram post, Kashyap attempted damage control by writing, “This is my apology, not for my post but for that one line taken out of context and the brewing hatred.” He also said that due to the backlash, his daughter, relatives, and friends were receiving threats. His apology, however, was far from sincere. Kashyap himself admitted that if an apology was expected, then that would be it—an evidently reluctant and dismissive statement.

 

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A post shared by Anurag Kashyap (@anuragkashyap10)

The controversy erupted on 17 April 2025, after Kashyap took to Instagram to vent his frustration about the delay in releasing Phule, a film directed by Ananth Mahadevan and featuring Prateek Gandhi and Patralekha as Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule. The delay, reportedly influenced by objections from some Maharashtrian Brahmin groups, led to a heated rant by the filmmaker.

In his Instagram story, Kashyap recounted that his first theatrical performance was based on Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule. He criticized caste-based inequality in India and questioned why Brahmins were offended by a film addressing such issues. His language was laced with expletives and contempt, accusing Brahmin communities of either being ashamed or living in denial about casteism in the country.

He further lambasted the film certification process, questioning how certain groups managed to access unreleased films. Kashyap accused the system of being corrupt and said that films addressing uncomfortable social realities, such as Punjab 95 and Dhadak 2, often faced unwarranted censorship. He claimed the government was too ashamed to face its own reflection and lacked the courage to confront the issues these films expose.

In a long instagram story, Kashyap wrote, “Meri zindagi ka pehla natak Jyotiba aur Savitribai Phule pe tha. Bhai agar casteism nahin hota is desh mein toh unko kya zaroorat thi ladne ki. Ab ye Brahmin log ko sharam aa rahi hai ya wo sharam mein mare ja rahe hain ya phir ek alag Brahmin Bharat mein jee rahe hain jo hum dekh nahin paa rahe hain, ch****a kaun hai koi to samjhave. (The first play I ever did in my life was on Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule. If casteism didn’t exist in this country, why would they have needed to fight against it? Now these Brahmin groups either feel ashamed, are dying of shame, or perhaps they’re living in some alternate Brahmin-only India that we’re unable to see. Someone please explain—who’s the real fool here? My question is, when the film goes for censoring, there are four members in the board. How the f**k the groups and the wings get access to films until and unless they are given access to it? The whole f**king system is rigged.”

He also lamented that, “I don’t know how many other films are blocked that exposes the agenda of this casteist, regionalist, racist government… so ashamed to see their own face in the mirror. So ashamed that they can’t even openly talk about what it is about the film that bothers them. f**king cowards.”

He also made a post on his Instagram where he wrote, “During the screening of Dhadak 2, censor board told us that Modiji has eradicated the caste system in India. On the same grounds, Santosh couldn’t be released in India either. Now, Brahmins are objecting to Phule. Brother, if there’s no caste system, how can you be a Brahmin? Who are you? Why are you getting worked up?” he questioned.

 

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In a particularly aggressive response to a commenter who referred to Brahmins as Kashyap’s forebears, the director allegedly replied, “I’ll urinate on Brahmins… got a problem?” This crude and offensive comment has been widely condemned as hate speech and reflective of deep-seated hostility toward the Brahmin community.

(Image Credits: OpIndia)

Critics argue that Kashyap’s rhetoric goes beyond artistic dissent and veers into open hostility. Rather than fostering constructive dialogue on caste issues, his statements are seen as vilifying an entire community, reinforcing harmful stereotypes, and encouraging hatred. The film Phule itself, based on its trailer, is seen by some as offering a one-sided portrayal, casting Brahmins as the sole antagonists while ignoring their historical contributions to reform and education.

Moreover, Kashyap’s criticism of the BJP government—calling it casteist, regionalist, and racist—seemed to draw a line between present political ideologies and historical social issues, conflating the two to support his narrative. He questioned how a Brahmin identity can exist if casteism has supposedly been eradicated, citing a censor board comment claiming Prime Minister Modi had ended caste-based divisions in India.

The Bad Girl Connection

This isn’t the first time Anurag Kashyap has faced allegations of harboring anti-Hindu sentiments. Back in 2017, after filmmaker Sanjay Leela Bhansali was assaulted during the filming of Padmavat, Kashyap referred to the attackers as “Hindu terrorists.” Yet, he has remained conspicuously silent when it comes to religious extremism from other communities. But did his anti-Brahmin rhetoric end there? Not at all. The shameless director has continued to spread his animosity through different platforms. Most recently, he co-produced Bad Girl, a film by Vetri Maaran—another filmmaker who pushes Communism and anti-Brahmin agenda. The movie, like much of their work, seems to single out Brahmins as the sole villains. How convenient for these so-called ‘social justice warriors’ to mask targeted hate as progressive cinema.

Some observers have pointed out that criticism of Brahmins has increasingly become mainstream, particularly in Maharashtra, where Brahmins are often portrayed negatively despite being a minority. The history of anti-Brahmin sentiment in the state includes violent incidents like the 1948 Chitpavan Brahmin attacks and more recent social media-driven hate campaigns. Critics believe this pattern continues in modern cinema and political discourse, contributing to an environment where Brahmins are vilified for historical injustices they had no part in.

This pattern of targeting Brahmins isn’t limited to Maharashtra. In Tamil Nadu, Brahmins have faced hostility dating back to the mid-20th century, including symbolic acts like cutting the sacred thread (poonool). Political parties such as the DMK have made strong anti-Sanatana Dharma statements, which many interpret as veiled attacks on Brahminical traditions.

Despite being a relatively small community, Brahmins are increasingly subject to ridicule, stereotyping, and reverse discrimination. Their cultural identity, including practices such as vegetarianism and wearing the Janeu, is frequently mocked under the guise of progressive criticism.

A Marxist-Historian Myth Debunked Time and Again

Is what they preach against Brahmins actually true, or is it just a repetition of long-debunked narratives driven by bias and historical distortion? It’s exhausting to keep dismantling the same Marxist historian myths that have already been exposed over and over again. What’s ironic is that they likely know the truth themselves—but they continue to recycle colonial-era distortions, especially those pushed by the British to enforce their “Divide and Rule” policy.

One of the most compelling rebuttals to these falsehoods comes from the Gandhian thinker, historian, and political philosopher Dharampal. In his seminal work, The Beautiful Tree: Indigenous Indian Education in the Eighteenth Century, Dharampal meticulously studied original records from British colonial archives—surveys commissioned by the East India Company and preserved across the UK. His decade-long research uncovered a reality that flies in the face of the Brahmin-villain narrative.

His findings documented a vibrant and inclusive indigenous education system across the Madras and Bengal Presidencies and Punjab, with a curriculum that was far more advanced and accessible than what is commonly portrayed. In fact, nearly 30% of children aged 6–15 attended school daily. Surprisingly to many, students from so-called “lower” castes—including Shudras and those considered below them—made up a significant portion of the student body. In places like Kerala, even Muslim girls were well-represented in these institutions.

Anurag Kashyap’s claim that “Brahmins didn’t allow others to study” is flatly contradicted by this evidence. Data from the Madras Presidency and Bihar clearly shows that the majority of students were from non-Brahmin castes. The British records even show that Brahmins were a minority in many schools. While they did dominate fields like theology and law—understandably so, given those were areas of traditional scholarly focus—subjects like astronomy and medicine were studied and practiced by individuals from various communities. For example, in Malabar, out of 808 students learning astronomy, only 78 were Brahmins; similarly, out of 194 studying medicine, only 31 were Brahmins. Even barbers were recognized by British officials as the most skilled surgeons of the time.

https://twitter.com/vedant_bangad/status/1913224705990939127

This data dismantles the idea that Brahmins monopolized knowledge or oppressed others by restricting access to education. Yet, despite overwhelming evidence, people like Kashyap continue to push the same tired narratives, now repackaged through films and pop culture. And why? Because keeping Brahmins in a perpetual negative light is a lucrative formula—it sells outrage, attracts funding, and fuels a political agenda. It’s no coincidence that Kashyap co-produced Bad Girl by Vetri Maaran—another director often accused of peddling anti-Brahmin, far-left Communist rhetoric.

It seems the goal isn’t social justice but targeted vilification—distorting history, silencing nuance, and demonizing an entire community for profit and ideological gain.

In conclusion, Anurag Kashyap’s recent tirade is seen by many as less about advocating for social reform and more about perpetuating a hostile narrative against Brahmins. While caste-based inequality is a reality that must be addressed, critics argue that vilifying an entire community in the name of progress only deepens divisions. Kashyap’s language and attitude, especially his comment about urinating on Brahmins, have turned what could have been a meaningful discussion into an ugly and divisive controversy.

(With inputs from OpIndia)

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The post After Saying “I’ll Urinate On Brahmins”, Left-Leaning Director Anurag Kashyap Offers Hollow Apology appeared first on The Commune.