How Hindu Schooling Came To America (II)
Andrew Bell, the gentleman in question, used to be described in old editions of the Britannica as "cold, shrewd, self-seeking." He might not have been the most pious cleric. Perhaps like his contemporary, Parson Malthus, he didn’t really believe in God at all, but as a young man following the flag he had an eye out for the main chance. Bell found his opportunity when he studied the structure Hindus arranged for training the lower castes, about 95 percent of the Indian population. It might well serve a Britain which had driven its peasantry into ruin in order to create an industrial proletariat for coal-driven industry.
Bell was fascinated by the purposeful nature of Hindu schooling. It seemed eminently compatible with the goals of the English state church. So as many another ambitious young man has done throughout history when he stumbles upon a little-known novelty, he swiped it1. Before we turn to details of the Hindu method, and how Bell himself was upstaged by an ambitious young Quaker who beat him into the school market with a working version of Bell’s idea, you should understand a little about Hindu religion.
After the British military conquest of India (in reality a merchant conquest) nothing excited the popular mind and the well-bred mind alike more than Hindu religion with its weird (to Western eyes) idols and rituals. Close analysis of Sanskrit literature seemed to prove that some kind of biological and social link had existed between the all-conquering Aryans, from whom the Hindus had descended, and Anglo-Saxons, which might explain theological similarities between Hinduism and Anglicanism. The possibilities suggested by this connection eventually provided a powerful psychic stimulus for creation of class-based schooling in the United States. Of course such a development then lay far in the future.
The caste system of Hinduism or Brahminism is the Anglican class system pushed to its imaginative limits. A five-category ranking (each category further subdivided) apportions people into a system similar to that found in modern schools. Prestige and authority are reserved for the three highest castes, although they only comprise 5 percent of the total; inescapable servility is assigned the lowest caste, a pariah group outside serious consideration. In the Hindu system one may fall into a lower caste, but one cannot rise.
When the British began to administer India, Hindus represented 70 percent of a population well over a hundred million. Contrast this with an America of perhaps three million. In the northern region, British hero Robert Clive was president of Bengal where people were conspicuously lighter-skinned than the other major Indian group, having features not unlike those of the British.
Hindu castes looked like this:
The upper 5 percent was divided into three "twice-born" groups.
1. Brahmins—Priests and those trained for law, medicine, teaching, and other professional occupations.
2. The warrior and administrative caste.
3. The industrial caste, which would include land cultivators and mercantile groups.
The lower 95 percent was divided into:
1. The menial caste.
2. Pariahs, called "untouchables."
The entire purpose of Hindu schooling was to preserve the caste system.2 Only the lucky 5 percent received an education which gave perspective on the whole, a key to understanding. In actual practice, warriors, administrators, and most of the other leaders were given much diluted insight into the driving engines of the culture, so that policy could be kept in the hands of Brahmins. But what of the others, the "masses" as Western socialist tradition would come to call them in an echoing tribute to the Hindu class idea? The answer to that vital question launched factory schooling in the West.
Which brings us back to Andrew Bell. Bell noticed that in some places Hinduism had created a mass schooling institution for children of the ordinary, one inculcating a curriculum of self-abnegation and willing servility. In these places hundreds of children were gathered in a single gigantic room, divided into phalanxes of ten under the direction of student leaders with the whole ensemble directed by a Brahmin. In the Roman manner, paid pedagogues drilled underlings in the memorization and imitation of desired attitudes and these underlings drilled the rest. Here was a social technology made in heaven for the factories and mines of Britain, still uncomfortably saturated in older yeoman legends of liberty and dignity, one not yet possessing the perfect proletarian attitudes mass production must have for maximum efficiency. Nobody in the early years of British rule had made a connection between this Hindu practice and the pressing requirements of an industrial future. Nobody, that is, until a thirty-four-year-old Scotsman arrived in India as military chaplain.
- [Hazard]
It's unclear if Bell was more directly copying what he observed in the local schools or if he was merely loosely inspired by them. His own accounts contain only a single, brief observation of local teaching that deals with a non-foundational aspect of his system: "I had, at first sight of a Malabar school, adopted the idea of teaching the letters in sand spread over a board or bench before the scholars, as on the ground in the schools of the natives of this country."[p.24] Despite not giving any credit beyond that, other sources document the existence and prevalence of hierarchical peer drillings setups (the main organizing structure in Bell's system) in various regions of India including the district Bell worked in, so it's almost certain he would have observed this in action.↩
- [Hazard]
This footnote is a bit akwardly placed because I'm responding to Gatto's whole claim across these three sections on Indian schooling. His claim is roughly 1) India had advanced social technology for controlling people as part of maintaining the caste system, 2) mass schooling of the lower castes was one such load bearing social technology, and 3) core aspects of this tech were imported to America via England. The first claim is certainly true; claims 2 and 3, however, are pretty tenuous. In regards to claim 2, the distributed network of village schools that other sources describe in the 18th and 19th centuries do seem to have been pretty common and were primarily for the lower castes, the higher castes having their own more expensive schooling network. This mass village school network certainly bolstered the caste system, as the students would only be taught to read and write in the local languages and not Sanskrit (it was still taboo, albeit no longer violently prohibited, to teach Sanskrit to the lower classes, and Sanskrit was the sole language that virtually all of India's accumulated intellectual and cultural heritage was recorded in), and the only things they would read would be devotional literature about doing your caste-based dharma. But ultimately, kids didn't spend much time in this system, and it seems improbable that these schools were pulling much weight in regards to maintaining caste stability. There were endless traditions and customs omni-directionally supporting the caste hierarchy; any child would have been steeped in them for many years before ever setting foot in these schools. So while their schooling was caste friendly, it doesn't feel exemplary of India's advanced social control tech. For claim 3, the only part of what was present in India that clearly transferred to the West was the "hierarchical peer drilling" part, which while somewhat novel and conducive to a strong disciplinary approach, seems much less core to what made the Indian system pro-caste than say the vernacular language restriction, which couldn't have been imported to the West even if desired.↩