Irawati Karve led a life that was different from those around her.
Born in India under British rule, and at a time when women did not have many rights and freedoms, Karve did the unthinkable: she continued her studies in a foreign country, became a college professor and the first Indian anthropologist.
She also married the man of her choice, swam in a bathing suit, rode a scooter and even dared to defy the racist hypothesis of her PhD mentor – the famous German anthropologist Eugen Fischer.
Her writings on Indian culture and civilization and its caste system are revolutionary and are part of the curriculum in Indian colleges. However, 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 Urmilla Deshpande and academic Thiago Pinto Barbosa, sheds light on her fascinating life and the many obstacles she bravely faced to pave an inspiring path for women and men, who came after her.
Born in 1905 in Burma (now Myanmar), Irawati was named after the Irrawaddy River. The only girl among six siblings, her family adored her and raised her in comfort.
But the young girl’s life took an unexpected turn, resulting in experiences that would shape her as a person. In addition to strong women, Irawati’s life also met empathetic, forward-thinking men who paved the way for her to break barriers and cheered her on as she did so.
At the age of seven, Irawati was sent to a boarding school in Pune – a rare opportunity given to her by her father when most girls were forced into marriage. In Pune, she met RP Paranjpye, a prominent educationist whose family unofficially adopted Irawati and raised her as their own.
In the Paranjpya household, Irawati was exposed to a lifestyle that celebrated critical thinking and righteous living, even if it meant going against the grain of Indian society. Paranjpye, whom Irawati affectionately called “appa” or her “second father”, was a man far ahead of his time.
A college principal and a staunch advocate of women’s education, he was also an atheist. Through it, Irawati discovered the fascinating world of social sciences and their impact on society.
When Irawati decided to pursue a doctorate in anthropology in Berlin, despite the opposition of her biological father, she found support in Paranjpye and her husband Dinkar Karve, a science professor.
She arrived in the German city in 1927, after a several-day journey by boat, and began her studies under the mentorship of Fischer, a celebrated professor of anthropology and eugenics.
At that time, Germany was still reeling from 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 killed.
In the book, the authors describe the fear, shock and disgust Irawati felt when she saw the man’s body lying on the footpath in front of her building, blood dripping onto the concrete.
Irawati wrestled with these emotions as he worked on a thesis assigned by Fischer: to prove that white Europeans were more logical and rational – and therefore racially superior – to non-white Europeans. This involved the careful study and measurement of 149 human skulls.
Fischer hypothesized that white Europeans had asymmetrical skulls to accommodate larger right frontal lobes, supposedly a sign of higher intelligence. However, Irawati’s research found no correlation between race and skull asymmetry.
“She contradicted Fischer’s hypothesis, of course, but also the theories of that institute and the mainstream theories of the time,” the authors write in the book.
She boldly presented her findings, risking the wrath of her mentor and her degree. Fischer gave her the lowest score, but her research critically and scientifically rejected the use of human differences to justify discrimination. (Later, the Nazis would use Fischer’s theory of racial superiority to further 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 to the country, went on trips to remote villages in India, sometimes with her male colleagues, sometimes with her students, and even with her own children, to study the lives of various tribes.
She joined archaeological expeditions to find 15,000-year-old bones, connecting the past and the present. These grueling journeys took her for weeks or months deep into forests and rough terrain, and the book described how she slept in barns or on the beds of trucks and often spent days with little 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 the traditionally vegetarian upper caste Hindu community, bravely ate partially raw meat offered to her by a tribal leader she wanted to study. She recognized it as a gesture of friendship and a test of loyalty, reciprocating with openness and curiosity.
Her studies fostered a deep empathy for humanity, which led her to later criticize fundamentalism in all religions, including Hinduism. She believed that India belonged to all who called it home.
The book describes the moment when, thinking about the horrors the Nazis inflicted on the Jews, Irawat’s mind wandered to a startling realization that would change her view of humanity forever.
“In these reflections, Irawati learned the most difficult lesson in Hindu philosophy: you are all these things,” the authors write.
Irawati died in 1970, but her legacy lives on through her work and the people she continues to inspire.
