is easy to reify the unit of the nation-state itself, as well as “other kinds of groups that spring up in the wake of or in resistance to the nation-state,” as primordial “individuals-writ-large … imagined to ‘possess’ cultural properties that define their personalities and legitimate their right to exist” (Handler 2011). Anthropologists have widely recognized the modern nation-state as the primary structure shaping processes of ethnicization. But does this assessment match with the subjective perceptions of those who experience ethnicization? Nation-states may certainly be viewed as “individuals-writ-large” by people who live firmly within the borders of one state or another and whose subjectivity is defined by such a nationalist ethos in a singular manner. However, the views of “border peoples,” whose subjectivities have long been defined by interactions with multiple states may be markedly different.1 In the Thangmi context, the long history of cross-border circular migration and the concomitant in-depth experience of multiple frameworks for defining national and ethnic identities lead to a different view. Nation-states are seen as flexible identity-framing devices, in relation to which individuals and collectivities produce meaningful cultural content in each context, rather than absolute identity-determining structures, which in themselves dictate that content.
This argument leads to an inversion of nationalist perspectives in which “the group is imagined as an individual” with a homogeneous identity (Handler 2011). Instead, in the cross-border Thangmi context, collective identity cannot exist without the manifold contributions of heterogeneous individuals, each of whom possesses complementary elements of the overall repertoire of ritualized action required to establish the existential presence of the group within multiple state frames. From the perspectives of those who belong to it, the group is not imagined as a coherent “individual” but is readily acknowledged as the product of disparate life experiences embodied by multiple individuals in as many locations. As Surbir, a long-term Darjeeling resident originally from Nepal put it, “We Thangmi are like the beads of a broken necklace that have been scattered all over the place. And now it’s time to find them and put them back together again.” Surbir’s statement shows that this sense of fragmentation is not necessarily the desired state of affairs, and many Thangmi activist agendas focus on synthesizing disparate Thangmi practices into a coherent whole. The Nepal Thami Samaj (NTS) Second National Convention Report, for instance, echoes Surbir’s metaphor with the assertion that the convention’s main objective was “to integrate the Thamis living in various places, … to make [our] demands and fundamental identity widespread, and to string together all the Thamis” (NTS 2005:4). Yet it is the self-consciousness of this process of mixture, the ongoing synthesis of disparate experiences, beliefs, and ideologies, all held together under the name “Thangmi,” as well as “Thami,” which defines collective identity at the most fundamental level.
Mahendra, a Thangmi artist well-known in Darjeeling, explained his views on the collective production of Thangminess with an analogy: “I am an artist; so many people who meet me who have never met a Thangmi before think that all Thangmi are artists. Actually, they should think instead, ‘If a Thangmi can be an artist, then there must also be Thangmi writers, cooks, football players, dancers, and everything else.’ Each Thangmi should be Thangmi in his own way.” Viewing ethnicity as a collective project, to which individuals may make varying contributions in a laterally differentiated manner rather than as a vertically homogenous “individual” that requires group members to articulate belonging in more or less similar ways, diminishes the need to wrestle divergent experiences into neat arguments about group solidarity or singular authenticity. The quality of “we-feeling,” which, for instance, the Nepal Foundation for the Development of Indigenous Nationalities (NFDIN) Act (NFDIN 2003:7) lists as one of the defining criteria for membership as an Indigenous People’s Organization (IPO), may actually be produced through the interactions and communication among members of individual groups, across boundaries of class, gender, and state.
Nonetheless, what happens inside each state at the policy level matters. Conceptualizing ethnicity as a collective process enacted across multiple state borders demands a nuanced analysis of the effects and localized meanings of global discourses like indigeneity (Tsing 2009) and heritage. For instance, the government of India rejects the English “indigenous” as an operative term in its minority legislation. Somewhat ironically, the Indian state prefers to maintain the colonial “tribal” and has to date refused to ratify international instruments like the International Labour Organization (ILO) Convention 169 on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. In addition, India scrutinizes international organizations working within its borders, with the Indian state itself providing the majority of economic and cultural support to marginalized groups through affirmative action measures. By contrast, as mentioned in Chapter 1, Nepal was one of the first Asian countries to ratify this Convention and integrate the term “indigenous” into its official language. The Nepali state allows a range of international organizations to provide targeted development aid to marginalized groups. These national differences in accepting and implementing the prerogatives of global discourse as propagated by international actors have substantial effects on the ways in which groups like the Thangmi envision their own ethnic identity within each state. This argument will be developed further in Chapter 6.
In short, academic attention to processes of globalization has often overplayed the extent to which Western-influenced ideologies—global discourses—dominate local discourse and practice, leading to analytical models that deemphasize the ongoing power of individual nation-states to imbue identity production with locally specific meanings. We are told that nations become deterritorialized through constant border-crossing movements, including labor migration, conflict-induced displacement, and cosmopolitan jet-setting, with the result that transnational frameworks eventually supersede national ones in shaping identities (Appadurai 1990; Basch, Schiller, and Szanton Blanc 1994; Inda and Rosaldo 2002). Contrary to such assumptions, the Thangmi case shows how transnational life experiences in fact bring into sharp focus the specific properties of individual national frameworks rather than erasing them.
I argue that nation-states remain crucial framing devices in the production of ethnicity but that these framing machineries are now rarely experienced in isolation. They are therefore not taken for granted. Instead, nation-states are experienced as multiple but simultaneously existing frames, which become visible in the process of switching between them. Each frame demands and facilitates different forms of ritualized action, manifested in different contexts to produce recognizable identities. In this formulation, nation-states continue to exercise sovereignty in very real ways. But such state tactics can never become entirely hegemonic in a mobile world where cross-border experiences are increasingly common. Anyone who regularly crosses borders knows that sovereignties do not exist in isolation. Instead, the role of nation-states as framing devices becomes evident at the same time that their previously presumed absolute power becomes relative. Nonetheless, the ability to control such frameworks in order to produce the desired effects within them is a complicated craft, requiring great care and ritualized attention to the nuances of practice and performance to achieve success.
Recognizing the Sacred: On Consciousness and Objectification
The distinction between practice and performance may appear to be academic, but it also has an indigenous ontological reality. Members of the Thangmi community in both Nepal and India differentiate between the aims and efficacy of a practice carried out within Thangmi company for a divine audience and a performance carried out in a public environment for broader political purposes. To distinguish between the two types of action, Thangmi use the Nepali terms sakali and nakali, which translate as “real, true, original” (Turner [1931] 1997:578) and “copy, imitation” (333) to describe practices and performances respectively.2 Thangmi individuals talk about how one must get carefully dressed and made up—nakal parnu parchha (N)—in order to mount successful performances, while practices require no such costuming.
While viewing video I shot of Thangmi cultural performances
