Dr. Laxman Singh
In the study of Asian sociology and anthropology, human identity is one of the most dynamic and multi-layered concepts. An individual’s or a community’s background is rarely fixed in stone. Instead, it continuously shifts, adapts, and acquires new meanings across time and space. Just as a single word can carry multiple meanings depending on its context, the core elements of identity—caste, geography, ethnicity, and religion—frequently merge into one another over centuries, often giving birth to social stereotypes that obscure deeper historical truths.
Throughout history, many terms that originally described the geography of a specific river valley, mountain range, or landmass gradually transformed into rigid identifiers for a religion or caste. The word ‘Hindu’ is a classic example of this evolution. It originated purely as a geographical descriptor used by ancient Persians and Middle Eastern travelers to describe everyone living east of the Indus River, regardless of their specific faith or philosophy. Medieval records from the Delhi Sultanate even mention Muslim individuals named Hindu Beg, showing that the term still functioned as a regional marker at the time. Even today, in parts of Gaza and the Levant, certain Arab families carry the surname Al-Hindi to mark their historical roots from the Indian subcontinent. Similarly, in Turkish Kurdistan, a person with subcontinental heritage might be casually referred to as ‘Hindu’ by locals based on distinct physical features, despite being a practicing Sunni Muslim.
A similar pattern of oversimplification applies to regional terms like ‘Punjabi’ or ‘Marwari’. In everyday conversation across Northern India, ‘Punjabi’ is frequently assumed to refer strictly to specific merchant communities or followers of Sikhism. In reality, it is a geographical and linguistic identity belonging to anyone from the historic region of Punjab. Pakistani Punjab is nearly four times larger than Indian Punjab, with a Muslim-majority population that takes immense pride in its Punjabi heritage. Conversely, ‘Marwari’ originally denoted someone from the Marwar region of Rajasthan, yet today almost any merchant or trader across India is broadly labeled ‘Marwari’, regardless of whether their roots lie in Haryana or Shekhawati. In the Terai region of Uttar Pradesh and Uttarakhand, East Bengali families who resettled post-partition were routinely documented in local parlance simply as a distinct ‘Bengali’ caste, turning a regional origin into a rigid social classification.
Terms tied to racial heritage and aristocratic lineages have undergone similar transformations. In modern popular culture, anyone carrying the surname ‘Khan’ is often assumed to be a Pathan (Pashtun). Historically, however, ‘Khan’ was a title used by Mongol and Turkic rulers, which Pashtuns adopted much later. Furthermore, when local agrarian and martial groups in the subcontinent converted to Islam during medieval times, many adopted Pashtun tribal names and the ‘Khan’ title to claim higher social status—a socio-cultural process known as Ashrafisation. On the other hand, many converted groups retained their original lineage markers, which is why millions of Muslim Rathores, Janjuas, Chauhans, and Bhattis in Pakistani Punjab maintain their Rajput genealogical heritage today. The idea that Pashtuns are exclusively Muslim is also historically inaccurate, as evidenced by historic settlements of Hindu Pathans in Jaipur, as well as Hindu and Jewish Pashtuns historically recorded in Kabul and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.
Adopting a religion does not erase an individual’s underlying ethnicity or regional roots. The Cham Hindus of Vietnam belong to the Mongoloid ethnic group and maintain ancient Shaivite customs, while the island of Bali in Indonesia hosts millions of Hindus who share deep cultural ties with India without sharing direct genetic origins. Similarly, viewing the Arab world as exclusively Muslim overlooks the fact that around ten percent of the population across Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, and Palestine consists of non-Muslim Arabs—primarily ancient Christian and Jewish communities who are entirely Arab in language, cuisine, and heritage.
In contemporary journalism, literal translations and superficial media reporting frequently reinforce these societal misconceptions. Strictly speaking, the word Ashwet (“non-white”) should encompass all non-Caucasian populations, including South Asian and East Asian peoples. Yet, influenced by Western editorial framing, South Asian media often restricts the term exclusively to people of African descent. An even more glaring error occurs when ‘Red Indian’ (Native American) is rendered literally in vernacular columns as Laal Bharatiya. Colloquially, almost any fair-skinned Westerner is tagged as an Angrez (“Englishman”), whether they are Spanish, Swedish, or Russian.
Finally, attempting to determine an individual’s precise caste or community solely from a surname is inherently flawed. Because working groups and sub-castes historically adopted the clan titles of regional ruling dynasties, identical surnames like Tomar, Chauhan, Rathore, Chaudhary, and Malik are distributed across entirely distinct social tiers today, spanning Rajputs, Gurjars, Jats, Dalits, and Muslim communities alike.
Ultimately, a rigorous sociological examination reveals that identity is adaptive and contextual. As historical epochs progress, borders move, languages evolve, and communities alter their self-representation. Defining an individual’s heritage purely by a surname, skin tone, dialect, or immediate religious affiliation overlooks the structural layers of human history. Unpacking these subtleties is essential for developing an objective, scholarly, and nuanced understanding of Asian societies today.
*The author is a UGC NET Record Holder across 13 subjects and holds a PhD on Indian and Nepalese Dalit Political Art.
