Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Miranda Engelshoven
In Surat, the second largest city of Gujarat and one of its main industrial centres, approx-
imately 150,000 workers are earning a living in the diamond industry. Especially in the
1960s and 1970s, when the industry grew tremendously, the working and living conditions
of diamond cutters were bad. Workshop owners used extreme violence, torture and even
murder to discipline workers. After the mid-1980s the situation improved, but even today
for many diamond cutters life in Surat’s diamond workshops is hard. Despite these condi-
tions there have never been any strikes or organised forms of mass protest in the history of
the diamond industry of Surat. In this article a number of possible reasons for this absence
are discussed. One of these is recent developments within the caste to which both diamond
Surat, a major city in the state of Gujarat and one of the fastest growing
industrial centres of India, is the world’s main centre for the cutting and
polishing of ’small’ diamonds (anything below 5 ’cents&dquo;). This is done
in thousands of workshops concentrated in one area of the city: Varachha
Miranda Engelshoven is at the Centre for Asian Studies, Amsterdam, Oude Hoogstraat
24, 1012 CE Amsterdam, The Netherlands.
Acknowledgements: I wish to thank all the participants to the Amsterdam Conference ’The
worlds of Indian industrial labour’ for their useful comments on my paper which formed
the basis of this article. Special thanks go to Jan Breman, Jonathan Parry and Mario Rutten.
The paper is based on my Ph.D. research, financed by WOTRO (the Netherlands Foundation
for Advancement of Tropical Research).
1In ’diamond language’ one carat is 0.02 grams. There are 100 cents in one carat—so,
one centis 0.002 grams, 5 cents is 0.01 grams. To give an idea of the size of these diamonds:
a diamond of 5 cents has a diameter of 2.4 mm.
I
Before I went to India I knew little about its diamond industry. From
the literature I found, I learned that it is a hard industry to work in. For
instance, many hira karigars (diamond cutters) spend nearly 24 hours a
day in the workshops, working there during the day and sleeping there at
night. The workshops are often hot, stuffy, gloomy places where workers
have to sit on the floor, working on the ghantis (polishing wheels). There
is no ventilation, and there are either no toilet and washing facilities or,
at best, poor ones. Many of the workers are young, unmarried men, who
have come to Surat alone through a contact-an uncle, cousin or elder
brother. I learned about the ruthlessness and cruelty of the workshop
owners from Irfan Engineer’s article on migrant workers in Surat:
2 In
1982 there were 9,502 workshops in Surat city and its suburbs according to a study
by H.N. Pathak (1984). For 1996 it is estimated (by Surat Diamond Association) that there
are around 11,000. It is difficult to get exact figures because many small workshops are not
registered.
.
n
Since Independence Surat’s population has been growing spectacularly.
Between 1971 and 1981 it reached three quarters of a million and accord-
ing to the Census of 1991 there were over one-and-a-half million inhabi-
tan’ts.4 This spectacular growth rate is largely the result of its two main
industries, the textile industry and the diamond industry, which attract
migrants from many other parts of India. In 1993 Shah noted that about
18 per cent of Surat’s population are Gujarati migrants and 24 per cent
are non-Gujaratis (Shah 1993: 36). It is estimated that, at present, more
than half of the population are non-Surtis.
The city’s Varachha Road area is the almost exclusive domain of the
Saurashtra Patels and the heart of Surat’s diamond industry. The vast
majority of people occupying the housing societies, apartment blocks and
tenements on Varachha Road are Saurashtra Patels. Most of the diamond
workshops are concentrated in the area around Sardar Chowk, the main
square of Varachha. During the first phase of my fieldwork, apart from
establishing contact with Saurashtra Patel caste organisations, going to
meetings and talking to caste leaders, I wandered around the little streets
3 Kathiawad is
the traditional name of Saurashtra.
4
The exact figures for Surat are: 1,505,872 in 1991 (818,499 male and 687,373 female):
Census of India 1991, District Census Handbook, Series-7: Cujarat, Part XII-A & B.
where the diamond workshops are located. They were small rooms with-
out air-conditioning or ventilation, stuffed with machinery, with workers
sitting on the floor, their clothes and other belongings hanging on the
walls around them. Later I also saw larger workshops that were almost
factories, which were much more spacious and where a number of hira
karigars were sitting on workbenches instead of on the floor. My first
contacts in this world were with workshop owners. They were the ones
to whom I was taken as soon as I entered a workshop. Whether I visited
small workshops or larger, more modem, diamond factories, it proved
impossible to talk freely to workers in the workplace. In the smaller
workshops this was partly due to a practical problem: there was simply
no space. But the main reason was that the owner or one of his assistants
of their products and regular payments. Once a person has been declared
a ’sightholder’ by DTC, he knows he can rely on a steady supply of
first quality diamonds. Apart from selling the finished products, this
is the biggest problem faced by the majority of other, less fortunate, souls
in the diamond business: how to secure a steady supply of good quality
roughs. They have to make do with what is available in the Antwerp
market. They can also buy ’illegal’ diamonds-that is, diamonds sold
outside the control of DTC, roughs from Russia, Australia and certain
parts of Africa. Or they can buy the unwanted material of the sight-
holders. The good quality roughs the sightholders keep for themselves.
They have them cut and polished in diamond factories. This is done
mostly in their own factories, but frequently they also give orders to
diamond workshops to cut and polish for them. Once the diamonds are
’truly’ diamonds they are sold in New York, Hong Kong, Japan and the
Middle East.
India, at present, has about thirty to forty sightholders. Most of them are
Palanpur Banias and-increasingly-Saurashtra Patels. They all oper-
ate through Bombay where they have their main offices. They also have
offices in Antwerp, Hong Kong and New York. The diamond workshops
and factories are in Surat, Ahmedabad, Baroda and in Saurashtra. Among
my informants were two Saurashtra Patel sightholders, both based in
Surat. Their families were in Surat, they had their main factories there
and both had started their diamond careers as hira karigars in Surat
in the early 1960s. But they were hard to reach because they were
always somewhere else in the world, and whenever I did meet them
they were more than willing to talk to me about caste, but not about
diamonds.
Many of the larger diamond workshops and factories on Varachha Road
get their diamonds from sightholders. A number of workshop owners
who are relatively successful and credit-worthy go directly to Antwerp
and sometimes to Israel to buy diamonds. But the majority of owners of
small workshops do not buy diamonds at all. They only cut and polish
diamonds and then return them to the sightholder or his commission agent.
The ones that do buy, buy and also usually sell through the local market.
There are two diamond markets in Surat: the biggest and oldest is in
Mahidharpura, part of the old city, the other on Varachha Road. Most of
the diamonds sold and bought in these diamond markets find their way
to Surat through Antwerp.
The important thing to realise is that the international diamond trade is
still largely controlled by De Beers through the DTC. If De Beers wishes
to increase the price of diamonds, it has the power to do so. Similarly
IV
In the following paragraphs I briefly sketch the way the diamond indus-
try developed in Surat. The connection between India and diamonds
is not unexpected. For centuries, the world depended on Indian mines
for its supply of rough diamonds- It is no coincidence that the most
famous diamond in the world, the Koh-i-Noor, is an Indian diamond. But
when mines were discovered elsewhere in the world and India’s dried up,
India’s role in the diamond business faded. However, in the late 1950s,
its connection with diamonds was re-established. This time its role was
not that of supplier of rough stones, but as supplier of cheap labour to
cut and polish the rough diamonds dug up in South America and Africa.
According to Subadhra Patwa there are several reasons for the revival of’
best friend’). This campaign, which was later extended to Europe, proved
immensely successful-in fact it is one of the most successful advertising
campaigns ever. The demand for small, good quality diamonds sky-
rocketed. European diamond workshops could not keep up with the
demand and besides, to get a good profit from the sale of small diamonds,
European labour was too expensive. India had diamond workshops and
labour was cheap. So, from the early 1970s to the mid-1980s (with only
a brief recession in 1979) Surat’s diamond industry grew tremendously.
The attitude of Surtis was not very friendly. The manners of Saurashtra
Patels were poor, we were pure villagers coming from rural areas. We
were badly clothed. Proper Surtis teased us: ’That Kathiawad...,
that hiraghasu.’ When we passed on the street they threw little stones.
.Because we were strangers in urban areas. Varachha Road did not exist
then. We were staying in Rampura, Saiyedpura and Mahidharpura-
mostly with Muslims; they helped us. Surtis did not give us rooms.
We started working hard. It was in our blood because of working on
the farms. Many single men were here in the beginning, without their
families. In the beginning, if there was one family here, then 25 single
men would eat at that place. The wife would cook for all of them.
Owners complained about the many karigars who cheated them. They
disappeared without repaying the money. One of them claimed to have
V
Varachha Road is the domain of the Saurashtra Patels.6 It is an area
in the northeast of Surat, literally cut off from the rest of the city by
the railway line. Most Surtis never come here, unless they have some
business to attend to. When the first Saurashtra Patels came in the early
1960s Varachha Road did not exist. There were two villages at that time,
Karanj and Ashwini Kumar. Those who came to Surat in the 1960s could
still find a place to live in the city, although with difficulty. But when the
Saurashtra Patels came in such big numbers in the early 1970s, they were
forced to look or accommodation in the surroundings of Surat. With the
Saurashtra Patels followed the diamond workshops. Karanj and Ashwini
Kumar became part of the city and changed into Varachha Road. Later,
as Varachha grew, other villages (Fulpada and Kapodra) were swallowed
up by it.
The two main roads of Varachha are Varachha Road and Lambe
Hanuman Road. The two roads run parallel from the back of Surat’s
railway station. Varachha Road is the longest and busiest. It is the main
route to Kamrej and Highway No. 8 (to Baroda and Ahmedabad), so there
is traffic day and night. On either side of Varachha Road there are shops,
apartment blocks and housing societies. About halfway along Varachha
Road, on the left, is the area where most of the diamond workshops are sit-
uated. On the right is the ’Mini Bazar’, the diamond market of Varachha
Road. Some of the karigars live in the diamond workshops. Those who
6
There are approximately three to four lakh Saurashtra Patels in Surat. The vast majority
of them live on the Varachha Road. Since the mid-1980s there has been also a growing
’colony’ of Saurashtra Patels in Katargam, a suburban area in the north of the city.
manage to get a room outside the workshops and those who live with their
families are in crowded housing areas, like Ghanshyam Nagar, Kodiya
Nagar, Mata Wadi and Trikam Nagar, with endless small streets and ugly
housing blocks. The more wealthy Saurashtra Patels live in housing
societies along Varachha Road, like Sadhna Society, Saurashtra Society,
Hansa Society, Hirabaug and Gurunagar, or in the recently built modem
apartment buildings on Lambe Hanuman Road.
Every day, around twelve o’clock, the famous Varachha ’Lunch Hour’
begins, except on Tuesdays, when all diamond workshops on Varachha
are closed. Within ten minutes Varachha Road, and all the streets leading
from the diamond workshops are flooded with thousands of karigars.
Most of them are on foot-only those who live far away are on bicycle.
For about half an hour traffic is chaotic. It is an amazing sight. And
one-and-a-half hours later the same procedure takes place in reverse.
When karigars go for lunch at twelve o’clock most of them have already
worked for at least four hours. They start again at two o’clock and, if the
owner, has enough diamonds, they continue until 8 p.m. Workers who
have their families in Surat usually go home after work and sit outside
in the evening with their friends and neighbours. The ones who live in
the workshops usually go to have dinner after which they sit with fellow
karigars at the pan shop. Apart from the regular cinema theatres, video
theatres are quite popular nowadays. Karigars go to watch dirty movies
or cricket matches. By eleven p.m. the doors of the factory close, so
Another karigar who has been living in workshops ever since he arrived
in Surat six years ago has a similar story:
karigar can cut about fifteen to seventeen stones a day. In that case he
earns about Rs 130 to Rs 150 a day. But when the roughs are bad, he
earns only about Rs 50 to Rs 70 a day. A good rough may take 30 minutes
7
Because of the introduction of new machinery and other techniques, the degree of
specialisation is certainly higher now than it was in the early days of the diamond industry.
However, there has always been a certain degree of specialisation in the industry with
karigars concentrating on one particular part of the cutting, bruting or polishing process.
8 In fact, it is becoming more and more important, I return to this later.
to polish, a bad rough two hours-but the amount a karigar gets paid is
the same.
If a karigar is experienced and works for an owner who can give him a
regular supply of good quality diamonds he will easily earn Rs 3,000 to
Rs 3,500 per month. ’Superkarigars’ earn Rs 7,000 to Rs 8,000 a month.
But many karigars who work in a small workshop where the roughs are
of bad quality and where the owner has an irregular supply of diamonds
may not earn more than Rs 1,500 to Rs 2,000 a month.
Besides karigars there are those who distribute, check and count the
diamonds polished by each karigar. They work in a separate area which
is closed off from the main ghanti area, except for a small counter win-
dow through which karigars give and receive the diamonds. These
’workshop managers’ are the intermediaries between the karigars on the
workfloor and the air-conditioned area of the diamond workshop. The
air-conditioned area is the domain of the sorters and the owner and-if he
has any-his assistants (usually a brother, son, brother-in-law or cousin).
The sorters’ privilege of air-conditioning already reveals that they are
the highest rank within the workforce. They stay in a separate-almost
sterile-room, but unlike the workshop managers they are in no contact
whatsoever with the karigars and the ghanti area. Their room is situated
in another part of the building, usually close to the main office of the
owner. I have no information about the wages of the ’workshop man-
agers’ and sorters-the elite of the diamond workforce, but I know that
they do earn considerably more than most karigars.
The majority of karigars are men, although for a few years there have
also been some women (a few of the big factories have Ladies’ Sections).
Most are young, between 15 and 25-there are very few karigars above
35. They start their apprenticeship when 14 or 15 years old. They sit next
to an uncle or elder brother in the workshop to learn their skills and within
a few months they are earning Rs 1,500 to Rs 2,000 a month. Whether
owners pay per day, week or month depends on a number of things. In
small workshops, where karigars often work for only short periods at a
time because the supply of diamonds is irregular, many owners pay per
day or week. In bigger workshops there are signs on the wall saying:
’We do not pay per day’; payment is per month. Very often, however, the
owner keeps the money earned by the karigar, which is only asked for
when he needs it. One karigar explained to me:
That is why they like to keep our earnings. [When I asked why karigars
do not put their money in a bank where they can get interest, he said:!1
We cannot keep a bank account easily. Banks have too much work and
too few staff. They have no interest in 5,000 rupees, only in 5 lakhs.
If the karigar does not take his money from the owner he will be given
good roughs. This is his compensation-it is like interest.
The karigars I spoke to said that they preferred this situation to the
regular monthly payment of the really big factories on Varachha Road.
In the big factories ’everybody has to take his money every month. There
it is like a government job,’ they explained. Many karigars didn’t like
working for the big factories at all, ’because you can never come late or
leave early and there are all kinds of rules.’
It is not unusual for a karigar to change to another workshop. Often
this has to do with the supply of diamonds. If an owner cannot supply
enough diamonds a day, the karigar will go find another workshop where
the supply is better. But he tries to settle down in one place if possible.
Rameshbhai, one of my informants, told me that in the last three years he
had worked in twenty different workshops. I asked him whether he was
an exception:
No. This is very common. If a karigar leaves- a workshop he works in
three or four workshops for a few days, he tries here and there before
he chooses the best one. It is true that I worked in twenty workshops,
but mainly in four. At the other ones I stayed only for a short time. I
left many workshops after half a day, because the roughs were no good.
If the capacity of a karigar is Rs 200 a day, in this factory he earns only
Rs 50. In these workshops most of the karigars are family members.
If a new karigar comes into such a workshop he always leaves within
two days. The problem is that these small workshops owners cannot
afford better roughs, and they cannot sell at a good price. They cannot
sell wholesale to Bombay like the big factory owners, they have to sell
in the local market.
I have never been without work, not even for a day. There is always
enough work. If there are no proper diamonds from Antwerp some-
times the factory closets for two hours a day. If a karigar leaves a
workshop he will ask another karigar if he has work. You cannot go
directly to an owner and ask for work, that is not possible. He will
never give you work that way. You need to have a friend. It is very
for a few days and he leaves, then his friend will get his money and
give it to him.
The issue of a steady supply of good quality roughs returns again and
again in the comments of karigars. For karigars it is important to work
with good roughs so that they can earn as much as possible. They tend
to move from workshop to workshop in search of better roughs. Owners
d6 not like this. They often complained to me about karigars leaving
their workshops. But the diamond business is such that many owners
cannot secure a steady supply of good quality diamonds throughout the
year. To prevent karigars from leaving, they give them as many good
quality roughs as they can, giving their best roughs to their most loyal
karigars, who have been with them for a long time, who do a good job
and behave according to their wishes. Apparently, towards the end of
the year, around Diwali time, all workshop owners (the owners I spoke
to about this denied it) say they have no good diamonds and give them
only very bad roughs which they have kept back during the year. If
true, this is a very clever strategy of the owners, as it is not useful for a
karigar to leave his owner, because another owner will give him-as he
is a new karigar--even worse roughs than his original owner. Further,
it appears that owners refuse to take on new karigars during this time
of the year.
Giving karigars good roughs in exchange for keeping their wages can
also be seen as a strategy by the owners to tie karigars to them, but
it does not seem to be very effective. Several karigars said that when
a diamond cutter decided to leave a workshop the owner usually gave
him his money back without much trouble-‘If an owner makes trouble
over repaying money or treats his karigars badly, other karigars will
avoid his workshop. So most owners give workers their money, although
sometimes it takes a while before they give it.’ Another way for owners
to keep karigars is to recruit them from their own kin and fre1m their
home villages in Saurashtra-but only the owners of small workshops
can use this strategy successfully. Even they know that a number of these
kinsmen will go to other workshops after some time, if they can earn
more there.
The wages of karigars have steadily increased. This seems to be con-
nected with the problem of keeping karigars: one owner said that he
increased wages every year for this reason.
It is fascinating to observe the continuous attempts of owners to get
control over workers-first through the baki system and now through the
VI
The violence and the torture rooms mentioned by Engineer deserve some
comment. Is it true that with the disappearance of the baki system, torture
and murder also disappeared from Vai~achha Road?
There were many stories about violence in the diamond workshops.
It was said that in the late 1970s and 1980s karigars were tortured and
that murders of karigars took place frequently. Karigars attributed this
violence to the baki system. It was said that in those days it was easier
for a karigar to steal diamonds because the organisation and means of
registration of diamonds in the workshops was not as good as it is now.
I found it interesting that neither owners nor karigars condemned the
violence. They all said something like this: ’Sure, the owners were very
cruel. They used to torture, even kill workers. That is all true. But it
was in the old days, when the baki system existed. They had to do all
that. You cannot blame them. An owner cannot allow karigars to steal
his property, can he? But it is not like that anymore. These things do
not happen today.’ I did not find it so strange that owners defended the
violent behaviour of owners in previous days, but that the karigars did
the same was puzzling.
I had been in Surat for some months when I first heard about the
’Chandra murder’. I heard of it by accident, and was surprised that nobody
had told me about it. When I expressed my surprise to a few karigars
they said they had not thought about it because it was not important.
Sometimes these things happened. It was the karigar’s own fault, some
of them said.
In January 1996 a karigar had been shot dead at Chandra Exports, a
relatively big diamond factory with a few hundred karigars on Varachha
Road. What exactly happened is difficult to tell, because different people
gave different versions of the event. Someone told me that several
karigars were killed and that they were 13- to 14-year-old boys. Others
said that karigars were only injured. But it seems that one young karigar
was killed and a few others injured, and that a guard from the factory had
fired the fatal shot. A karigar gave the following account:
VII
There are several possible reasons why this is so. More precisely, there
are several reasons why the workforce is fragmented, making it difficult
for hira karigars to unite for a common cause. Firstly, there is great
differentiation between hira karigars. In terms of status, skill, wages,
working and living conditions there is a world of difference between a
young inexperienced ’table’ karigar who works and sleeps in his uncle’s
small workshop and earns Rs 1,500 month and the ‘superkarigar’ who
works on a semi-ghanti in one of the bigger diamond factories, lives with
his family in a rented apartment on Varachha Road and earns Rs 8,000
a month. Apart from these differences between karigars, there are the
’workshop managers’ and sorters who stand in between the karigars and
the owners.
Much of the diamond industry revolves around the issue of getting
a regular supply of good quality diamonds. This not only goes for the
traders and workshop owners in Surat, but also for the hira karigars.
Competition between the workers is considerable-it is all about finding
a workshop owner who can provide a regular supply of good roughs. If he
of the family or someone from the village and for one year at least it is
impossible for him to leave this workshop. In between these two extremes
is a large group of more or less experienced diamond cutters who go
from one workshop to another continuously in search of good roughs.
How successful they are depends on their skills and their contacts. The
high degree of specialisation, the competition between workers for good
roughs and the resulting turnover of workers between workshops make
it very difficult for workers to come together and to organise strikes and
mass protest.
Secondly, karigars are probably afraid to protest. Nobody likes to be
beaten up, tortured or killed. Stories about the ruthlessness and cruelty
of the owners during the baki period are still frequently told. Some
owners, who are notorious for their cruelty during the baki days, are now
among the biggest diamond factory owners on Varachha Road. They
have offices in Bombay, Hong Kong, New York and Antwerp. They
make millions of dollars. Now they are the most powerful people on
Varachha Road. Who would dare to protest against them? Generally
it is known in Surat that, even though the Varachha area is part of the
city, the Saurashtra Patel leaders rule on Varachha Road. Whenever
there is trouble there, it is taken care of locally-without interference
from the police or other municipal authorities. Saurashtrians often boast
about the safety on Varachha Road. Men walk around with diamonds
worth thousands of dollars in their pockets. Once I was with a small
group of owners when-amidst laughter from the others-one owner
demonstrated to me how safe he felt on Varachha Road. He said he often
carried Rs 50,000 in cash with him. And out came all the 100 rupee-
notes : from the pockets of his trousers and his shirt, from his shoes and
his socks, from his belt and, eventually, from his wallet. He said, ‘The
Saurashtra Patels of Varachha Road have their own law, that is why it
is safer here than in other parts of the city.’ Any karigar who wants
to protest publicly-either alone or in a group-against an owner of a
diamond workshop has to be a brave man.
Kinship is important in the sense that owners and karigars all know
what it is like to cut and polish diamonds, since practically all owners
once were karigars. Kinship is also important as the large majority of
karigars and owners come from the same caste: the Saurashtra Patels.
All Saurashtra Patel owners appear to have started their careers as
karigars. Those who came in the 1960s and 1970s worked as karigars
for two or three years. Then, with money of their own or with a loan from
a relative or a former boss, they started their own workshops. In smaller
workshops today the owner sometimes still works along with his karigars
when it is busy, but this is unusual. In some workshops-both small and
big-karigars come to show their work to the owner personally and to
discuss technical problems they have with cutting or polishing a certain
diamond. This is not common, however. It depends on the owner himself.
One owner, who had been a karigar for three years before he started his
own workshop, now had 300 karigars working for him. He was still
10Kanbi Patels can be found all over Gujarat. There are many divisions within this caste
and until recently there was little dispute about the fact that the Kanbi Patels from Saurashtra
were ranked lowest among them. This means that until recently there was very little contact
and certainly no intermarriage between Kanbi Patels from Saurashtra and Kanbi Patels from
other parts of Gujarat:
regarded as the domain of the ’Patels from Saurashtra’. For the first time
Kanbi Patels from all over Saurashtra-many of whom had never come
into contact before-were living and working together in one confined
area of Surat. Suddenly it was possible for a Gohilwadiya and a Halari to
exchange experiences about the way they had been treated by the Darbars
in their home villages in Saurashtra-or about the way they were treated
by the Surtis. The Surtis saw and treated them as one group of outsiders,
as ’Patels from Saurashtra’. It is around this time that the Kanbi Patels
of Surat began tc adopt the name of ’Saurashtra Patels’.
In 1982 some young educated Leva Kanbis established the Saurashtra
Patel Sewa Samaj. At their first meeting they talked about three issues:
promoting education among Saurashtra Patels, creating unity among
them and how to persuade them not to spend huge amounts of money in
marriage ceremonies. They set up an education fund, organised meetings
for Saurashtra Patels from Surat to come together, and at these meetings
11 As such
they somewhat resemble the gols, or marriage circles, of Kanbi Patels of other
parts of Gujarat.
started promoting education and mass marriages. They asked the few big
diamond factory owners to donate money. Some owners gave, but most
were not particularly interested.
In 1984 something important happened: the Mangadh Mass Murder.
In the village of Mangadh (Gariyadhar Taluk, Bhavnagar District), twelve
Kanbi Patels were murdered by Darbars. The murderers were known, but
were not arrested. The Saurashtra Patels of Surat reacted furiously. In
12
This is interesting because in earlier research on caste associations in Baroda (in 1992)
I found that many caste associations are based on endogamous units. One of their main
functions is to facilitate the search for a suitable marriage partner. Other information on
contemporary caste associations in Gujarat points in that direction as well. See for instance,
Rutten ( 1995) and Streefkerk (1991).
The Saurashtra Patel meetings and their mass marriages are big events
in Surat-sometimes more than 50,000 caste members come together. At
these big gatherings, speeches emphasise the need for unity of the com-
munity&dquo; especially given the recession in the diamond industry. The need
for education and the need to ’remove bad customs’ are also stressed.
’Diamond wallahs’ who donate lakhs of rupees are honoured on the
stage and the mass marriages are broadcast live on local TV and all
over Saurashtra. Three or four times a year 200 to 300 couples marry
in these mass-marriage ceremonies. All of this is financed by the big
diamond wallahs. For the last few years, local Patels from Surat, who
until recently looked down on the Saurashtra Patels, have been invited
to come to these meetings and mass marriages, and have started coming.
Slowly but steadily, the Saurashtra Patels are improving their caste status.
Whether or not the Saurashtra Patels can actually be considered a united
caste, in the eyes of many Saurashtra Patels their unity has been the
important key to their social acceptance and their success as a commu-
nity. Saurashtra Patels can no longer be ignored or bullied by anyone. In
the 1960s, in Saurashtra the Darbars had bullied them, while in Surat the
Surtis had thrown stones at them. Now the Darbars are defeated and the
Surtis greet them and secretly envy them. The Saurashtra Patels realise
that none of this would have been possible without the diamond industry
and the huge financial support of ’their’ big diamond wallahs. Many of
them feel that it is the diamond wallahs who have made the Saurashtra
Patel community respected-that it is thanks to them that the Saurashtra
Patels are now a community to be reckoned with: socially, economically
and politically.
Informants on Varachha Road continually emphasised caste unity and
presented the big diamond wallahs as heroes of the community. There
is a great sense of pride about what the Saurashtra Patels of Surat have
achieved. But this feeling of unity and pride possibly creates a serious
obstacle when it comes to the organisation of strikes and mass protests in
the diamond industry. It helps to explain, I suggest, why karigars seem
willing to forgive owners their sins of the past and the present. After all,
as one karigar put it: ’All the big diamond wallahs were once simple
Kanbi Patel farmers-like us. They came to Surat with little more than
the clothes they were wearing, and through hard work and their business
instinct they became rich and powerful. Every karigar dreams at night
that one day he will be one of them.’
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