Unlike the identities of ethnic and tribal groups, those of Dalits are still concealed from the public. The better a Dalit is at hiding their caste identity, deemed as ‘ritually polluting,’ the easier will be their life, particularly in relatively anonymous spaces of the cities like Kathmandu. Given the widespread caste hate and consequent exclusion and harassment, an estimated 60-70 percent of Dalits still hide their caste by tweaking or faking their surnames to rent properties even in the capital.

There has also been a growing trend of Dalits ‘officially’ abandoning their caste identities and passing as members of the upper castes. My question is: How do Dalits legally change their caste, and what does that mean for themselves, their families and their future generations?

Kafkaesque metamorphosis

One could designate this process of legally transforming Dalit castes into upper castes as a form of ‘transmutation.’ But the term does not seem suitable as a Dalit’s social position doesn’t automatically augment after changing their family name on their citizenship certificate and passport. They would still be an ‘untouchable’ for people who recognise them. A better term than that would be ‘metamorphosis’.

It is not a ‘social metamorphosis’ either. The phrase was coined by German sociologist Ulrich Beck, in his remarkable 2016 book, The Metamorphosis of the World. This theory deals with the transformation of a society or societies, as a result of momentous changes in recent years, such as globalisation and digitisation and, more importantly, the extraordinary rise of machine learning and artificial intelligence.

Changing Dalit surnames to reflect higher castes is not going to change society as such. Social structure will remain intact. The change of caste can, however, be quite a big change in the lives of individuals and societies, although the identity will be confining, potentially dangerous and rather strange.

In that regard, Franz Kafka’s famous novella, Metamorphosis, published in 1915, may be a more comparable literature. The caste change is similar to the life of Gregor Samsa in Kafka’s story, when he suddenly transforms into a strange bug. The change is sudden but full of challenges, risks and uncertainties. After becoming an upper caste, as it were, a Dalit’s life becomes easier in some ways, but more dangerous and complicated in other ways. There is always the great risk of being found out, especially after freely mixing with the upper castes.

A recent case

A recent case of transforming one’s caste through legal means is useful to understand, inter alia, why and how Dalits consider transforming themselves into higher castes, and how the state has enabled their mission.

Hari Pariyar (first name altered) lives in a rented flat in suburban Kathmandu. He owns and runs two tipper trucks, hauling construction materials mainly in Bhaktapur, Kavre and Sindhupalchowk. Life is good overall, despite the ups and downs of the delivery business in the construction sector, but he and his family live in the persistent threat of caste-based humiliation.

They have been living in their space and running the business under a fake name. Considering him a member of the Chhetri caste (as suggested by his fake surname), his friends, workmates and contractors frequently crack casteist jokes with him. The jokes are aimed at dominating individuals of lower castes. This torments Hari, but he pretends to laugh with everyone else; he doesn’t muster the courage to say that he feels insulted and demeaned, even when he belongs to the caste being demeaned.

Sometimes he feels like letting the cat out of the bag. But he dares not do so, for he cannot risk losing his business. More importantly, his family would almost certainly be forced out of their rented home if the landlord found out that they are Dalits.

The Kathmandu Metropolitan City office made his life even more challenging as it made it mandatory for all tenants to get a written agreement with the landlords before renting any property. That document would have to be accompanied by a copy of the citizenship certificates of both parties.

Hari’s landlord then started asking for his citizenship certificate as required by the law. He made all sorts of excuses not to show his official documents, but he knew he could not keep it a secret for long.

Hari and his wife suffered much anxiety from this dilemma until someone told them that they could legally change their names, even to an upper caste one. To avoid further trouble, Hari and his wife decided to pursue this course of action.

He asked the Department of National ID and Civil Registration at Singha Durbar if he is allowed to convert his surname from Pariyar to Gautam. They checked the official records and told him he was entitled to do it because Gautam had been enlisted as one of the surnames of the Damai caste.

Delighted, Hari applied for his name change at his District Administration Office in Nawalparasi. His file reached the desk of the Chief District Officer (CDO). The CDO denied his application, stating that, unlike Damai, Pariyar was not an offensive surname. He also gave examples of some popular folk singers—Raju Pariyar and Shiva Pariyar—to stress that Pariyar is a surname that doesn’t need to be changed.

Feeling defeated, Hari approached the National Dalit Commission (NDC) in Lalitpur. The NDC has been in charge of collating the family names of different Dalit castes, including those similar to or the same as those of the Bahun and Chhetri. The NDC officials also said that Gautam was a surname of the Damai caste, although one of the commissioners also argued, like the CDO, that the surname Pariyar was alright; it does not need to be amended to gain respect in society.

Yet, Hari persisted with his request to change his family name to Gautam. At last, the NDC reluctantly called the assistant CDO in Nawalparasi on Hari’s behalf, and Hari Pariyar became Hari Gautam.

Challenges and opportunities

While the state has shown zero interest in reforming religious beliefs and cultural practices to tackle the widespread problem of untouchability, it has also made it easy for Dalits to conceal their caste identities. This neither transforms society nor curbs caste hierarchy. But at the very least, it provides breathing space for Dalits.

However, living a fake life of an upper-caste individual obviously increases their vulnerabilities. What would happen when a Bahun man living amongst Bahuns for many years is suddenly discovered to be a low caste or ‘untouchable’? In any case, there is always the fear and anxiety of being found out.

There is an opportunity for the future generations to completely mingle with the upper castes and leave their stigma behind once and for all. This is one of the reasons why, despite the great risks, many Dalit individuals and families are opting to metamorphose themselves into upper castes.