The Indian woman anthropologist who challenged Nazi racial theories

Iravati Karve led a life that stood apart from those around her.

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

In addition, she married a man of her choice, swam in a swimsuit, rode a scooter and even dared to oppose a racist hypothesis of her scientific supervisor – the 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. Yet she remains an obscure figure in history and much of her life remains unknown.

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

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

But the young girl’s life takes unexpected turns, leading to experiences that will shape her as a person. In addition to strong women, Irawati’s life intersected with empathetic, progressive men who paved the way for her to overcome barriers and supported her as she did so.

At seven, Iravati was sent to a boarding school in Pune, a rare opportunity by her father when most girls were pushed into marriage. In Pune she met R. P. Paranjpye, a prominent educationist whose family unofficially adopted Iravati and raised her as their own.

In Paranjpi’s household, Iravati was exposed to a lifestyle that extolled critical thinking and righteous living, even if it meant going against Indian society. Paranjpye, whom Iravati fondly referred to as ‘appa’ or her ‘second father’, was a man far ahead of his time.

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

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

She arrived in the German city in 1927. after a day’s journey by ship, and began to pursue his degree under Fischer, a noted professor of anthropology and eugenics.

At the time, Germany was still reeling from the effects of World War I and Hitler had not yet come to power. But the specter of anti-Semitism had begun 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 running down the concrete.

Irawati wrestled with these emotions as he worked on the thesis set by Fischer: to prove that white Europeans were more logical and rational—and therefore racially superior—to non-white Europeans. This involved meticulously studying and measuring 149 human skulls.

Fischer hypothesized that white Europeans had asymmetric skulls to accommodate larger right frontal lobes, a supposed marker of higher intelligence. However, Irawati’s research found no relationship between race and skull asymmetry.

“It contradicts the Fischer hypothesis, of course, but also the theories of this institute and the basic theories of time,” the authors wrote in the book.

She boldly presented her findings, risking the wrath of her mentor and her degree. Fisher gave her the lowest rating, 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 further their agenda, and Fischer would join the Nazi Party.)

Throughout his life, Iravati would display this soft-spoken streak, coupled with endless empathy, especially for the women he encountered.

At a time when it was unthinkable for a woman to travel too far from home, Irawati went on excursions to remote villages in India after returning to the country, sometimes with her male colleagues, other times with her students and even her children. to study the life of different tribes.

She joined archaeological expeditions to recover bones 15,000 years old, connecting the past and the present. These grueling journeys took her deep into forests and rough terrain for weeks or months, with the book describing her sleeping in barns or truck beds and often spending days on little food.

In addition, Iravati bravely faced societal and personal prejudices while interacting with people from all walks of life.

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

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

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

“In these reflections, Iravati learned the most difficult lessons of Hindu philosophy: all that you are,” the authors write.

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