<p>My association with Professor André Béteille, the renowned scholar who passed away on February 3, began in 1985 as a student-teacher relationship. It evolved into that of a researcher and guide as he supervised both my MPhil and PhD. Later, we became colleagues when I began teaching, and over the decades, our relationship became familial.</p><p>Of the many things I recall about Professor Béteille, foremost was his conviction that teaching was as important to an academic as research and writing. As a young academic eager to publish, I often complained that college work left me no time to write. Béteille would list the virtues of teaching as a practice that brought discipline into a life that could easily be scattered in many directions. Lecturing also sharpened one’s ability to articulate ideas, think on one’s feet, and connect with one’s audience — skills that are critical in disseminating ideas through writing as well.</p><p>Teaching was central to Béteille’s craft as a sociologist. He always taught the first lecture of the day, arrived at work before any of his colleagues, and could be seen reviewing his notes each morning, for he believed in preparing for class. He never cut back on teaching workload, continuing to teach one course every semester throughout his tenure at the department. This engagement fed into another of Béteille’s daily routines — writing 250 to 500 words in longhand every day. Until he moved to a laptop in 2001, every first draft he wrote was in longhand. It allowed him time to think and correct as he wrote, before he would key it in on his trusted typewriter. He showed through praxis that his research and publishing output were higher than that of people who worked either as full-time writers or were affiliated with institutions with no teaching duties.</p>.Kannada-medium schools at the margins.<p>All of this resulted in a rich and enlightened scholarship that spanned many aspects of Indian society. His first book Caste, Class and Power brought to the analysis of caste, the dynamics of class, moving beyond kinship and ritual to broader concerns. Béteille broke away from viewing caste as the sole framework, instead highlighting new alignments shaped by economic and political forces. He drew on Max Weber’s ideas in this work, and included Weber in the sociology syllabus.</p><p>Going ahead, he published collections of essays in single volumes. His books covered agrarian social structure, peasant studies, inequality and also provisions for its removal. Lest it seem that Béteille was only looking within, he also wrote books that were more global in their outlook, of which Society and Politics in India (1991) is an example. He also wrote on the craft of sociology, its methods of analysis, and on public institutions. As someone who has lived my life in the university, his book Universities at the Crossroads (2010) is a masterpiece to be read and re-read.</p><p>Even after his retirement, Béteille continued his association with universities and institutions, serving as chairman of ICSSR and as chancellor of NEHU. Being appointed National Professor of Sociology (2007) was clearly an honour that Béteille would have ranked at par with being elected a Fellow of the British Academy (1992). He continued writing, with his memoirs appearing in September 2012, the year he turned 78.</p><p>Retirement gave Béteille time for quieter pursuits. Eschewing Delhi city parties, he preferred one-on-one meetings. The setting for our meetings moved from his room at the Delhi School of Economics to his home. New rituals like watching him make filter coffee with meticulous care before we sat down for a chat became important. I also became one of his regular walking partners. In Lodhi Gardens, we would often find a bench to observe people while discussing everything from ideas to food to sport. His casual remarks often carried deep insight, prompting me to note them down later. Over time, our walks moved to local parks, but the ritual of going to Sagar in Defence Colony to share an idli and a vada over a cup of coffee — a nod to his fieldwork days in Tamil Nadu — continued. The rule on all eating out remained unchanged from my PhD days — we alternated paying or split the bill. Correctness and decency were codes the professor never stirred from.</p><p>Thank you, Professor Béteille, for your steadfast presence in my life and for all that I learnt from you. You will be deeply missed.</p><p>(The writer is Professor of Sociology, Lady Shri Ram College for Women, University of Delhi, New Delhi)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
<p>My association with Professor André Béteille, the renowned scholar who passed away on February 3, began in 1985 as a student-teacher relationship. It evolved into that of a researcher and guide as he supervised both my MPhil and PhD. Later, we became colleagues when I began teaching, and over the decades, our relationship became familial.</p><p>Of the many things I recall about Professor Béteille, foremost was his conviction that teaching was as important to an academic as research and writing. As a young academic eager to publish, I often complained that college work left me no time to write. Béteille would list the virtues of teaching as a practice that brought discipline into a life that could easily be scattered in many directions. Lecturing also sharpened one’s ability to articulate ideas, think on one’s feet, and connect with one’s audience — skills that are critical in disseminating ideas through writing as well.</p><p>Teaching was central to Béteille’s craft as a sociologist. He always taught the first lecture of the day, arrived at work before any of his colleagues, and could be seen reviewing his notes each morning, for he believed in preparing for class. He never cut back on teaching workload, continuing to teach one course every semester throughout his tenure at the department. This engagement fed into another of Béteille’s daily routines — writing 250 to 500 words in longhand every day. Until he moved to a laptop in 2001, every first draft he wrote was in longhand. It allowed him time to think and correct as he wrote, before he would key it in on his trusted typewriter. He showed through praxis that his research and publishing output were higher than that of people who worked either as full-time writers or were affiliated with institutions with no teaching duties.</p>.Kannada-medium schools at the margins.<p>All of this resulted in a rich and enlightened scholarship that spanned many aspects of Indian society. His first book Caste, Class and Power brought to the analysis of caste, the dynamics of class, moving beyond kinship and ritual to broader concerns. Béteille broke away from viewing caste as the sole framework, instead highlighting new alignments shaped by economic and political forces. He drew on Max Weber’s ideas in this work, and included Weber in the sociology syllabus.</p><p>Going ahead, he published collections of essays in single volumes. His books covered agrarian social structure, peasant studies, inequality and also provisions for its removal. Lest it seem that Béteille was only looking within, he also wrote books that were more global in their outlook, of which Society and Politics in India (1991) is an example. He also wrote on the craft of sociology, its methods of analysis, and on public institutions. As someone who has lived my life in the university, his book Universities at the Crossroads (2010) is a masterpiece to be read and re-read.</p><p>Even after his retirement, Béteille continued his association with universities and institutions, serving as chairman of ICSSR and as chancellor of NEHU. Being appointed National Professor of Sociology (2007) was clearly an honour that Béteille would have ranked at par with being elected a Fellow of the British Academy (1992). He continued writing, with his memoirs appearing in September 2012, the year he turned 78.</p><p>Retirement gave Béteille time for quieter pursuits. Eschewing Delhi city parties, he preferred one-on-one meetings. The setting for our meetings moved from his room at the Delhi School of Economics to his home. New rituals like watching him make filter coffee with meticulous care before we sat down for a chat became important. I also became one of his regular walking partners. In Lodhi Gardens, we would often find a bench to observe people while discussing everything from ideas to food to sport. His casual remarks often carried deep insight, prompting me to note them down later. Over time, our walks moved to local parks, but the ritual of going to Sagar in Defence Colony to share an idli and a vada over a cup of coffee — a nod to his fieldwork days in Tamil Nadu — continued. The rule on all eating out remained unchanged from my PhD days — we alternated paying or split the bill. Correctness and decency were codes the professor never stirred from.</p><p>Thank you, Professor Béteille, for your steadfast presence in my life and for all that I learnt from you. You will be deeply missed.</p><p>(The writer is Professor of Sociology, Lady Shri Ram College for Women, University of Delhi, New Delhi)</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
