
Uprooting the Beautiful Tree: Dharampal’s Rediscovery of India’s Indigenous Education System
In the landscape of Indian historiography, few interventions have been as intellectually disruptive as Dharampal’s The Beautiful Tree: Indigenous Indian Education in the Eighteenth Century. First published in 1983, this landmark volume mounts a compelling challenge to entrenched colonial narratives that portrayed precolonial India as a civilizational void, bereft of formal education and awaiting the salvific arrival of British modernity. Drawing on archival records and administrative surveys commissioned by the British East India Company, Dharampal meticulously reconstructs an educational ecosystem that was at once decentralized, inclusive, and pedagogically rich.
The source materials for Dharampal’s research include extensive data from early nineteenth-century surveys conducted in the Madras, Bombay, and Bengal Presidencies. These records, paradoxically generated by colonial officials themselves, offer rare empirical insights into the functioning of indigenous institutions such as pathshalas, gurukulas, and madrassas. Contrary to colonial assumptions, these institutions were neither caste-bound nor intellectually stagnant. Rather, they served a broad demographic base, including non-Brahmins and marginalized communities, and offered instruction in a wide spectrum of subjects.
The evocative title of the book derives from a remark by Mahatma Gandhi, who lamented that “the British uprooted the beautiful tree of indigenous education which was thriving even before they came.” Dharampal adopts this metaphor not merely for rhetorical flourish, but as an organizing principle for his project. In seeking to document and revive the memory of this “beautiful tree,” he articulates a civilizational reclamation that challenges both colonial historiography and the postcolonial state’s continued reliance on alien pedagogic models.
Dissecting the Myth of Precolonial Backwardness
One of the most enduring myths propagated by colonial administrators and later internalized by sections of the Indian intelligentsia is the notion that India lacked structured educational systems prior to British rule. Dharampal dismantles this myth through rigorous analysis of primary sources, particularly the reports of A.D. Campbell in the Madras Presidency (1822–25) and William Adam in Bengal (1835–38). These documents record thousands of functioning schools across both rural and urban locales, offering a striking counterpoint to the image of educational destitution.
What emerges from Dharampal’s analysis is a pedagogical culture that was intimately embedded in the social and economic life of the community. Teachers, often respected local figures, imparted knowledge in subjects ranging from arithmetic and commerce to astronomy, logic, and jurisprudence. The curriculum was not restricted to religious instruction but reflected a holistic vision of learning. This educational plurality, far from being an anomaly, was the norm in much of precolonial India.
A Decentralized and Culturally Rooted Pedagogy
A central theme in Dharampal’s work is the contrast between the decentralized, community-supported model of indigenous education and the centralized, bureaucratized system introduced under British rule. Indigenous institutions were sustained through local patronage, temple endowments, land grants, and community contributions. Their autonomy from state control allowed them to evolve in response to regional needs, linguistic diversity, and cultural practices.
This organic integration of education within the matrix of local life speaks to a civilizational ethos where learning was not the monopoly of the state but a shared social responsibility. Education functioned not as an instrument of control, but as a manifestation of dharma, a collective commitment to the nurturing of knowledge as a sacred duty.
Colonial Disruption and Civilizational Amnesia
Ironically, many of the records that Dharampal draws upon were compiled during a period of transition when the indigenous system was already under strain. Colonial revenue policies had begun to dismantle the economic underpinnings of traditional institutions. The devaluation of vernacular languages, the imposition of English as the medium of instruction, and the growing influence of missionary education combined to delegitimize native knowledge systems.
The British administration, while documenting the vestiges of this robust network with apparent admiration, simultaneously pursued policies that eroded its very foundations. The process of educational colonization thus involved both appropriation and destruction, a paradox that Dharampal lays bare with intellectual precision.
Relevance in Contemporary India
In the context of contemporary educational reform in India, particularly with the advent of the National Education Policy (NEP), Dharampal’s work assumes renewed significance. The Beautiful Tree is not merely a historical account but a manifesto for epistemic decolonization. It calls for a critical re-examination of inherited assumptions and urges a return to pedagogical models that are rooted in India’s civilizational experience.
The work challenges us to imagine an educational future that draws from the past not as an act of nostalgia, but as a means of reasserting cultural confidence and philosophical coherence. In this sense, Dharampal’s contribution transcends disciplinary boundaries, offering insights that are as relevant to policymakers and educators as they are to historians.
A Scholarly Yet Accessible Contribution
One of the distinguishing features of Dharampal’s methodology is his reliance on empirical data rather than ideological assertions. He does not indulge in polemics but allows the archival material to speak for itself. This lends his work a credibility that few in the field have matched. At the same time, the narrative remains lucid and engaging, making it accessible to both academic and non-academic audiences.
While some scholars have pointed to limitations, such as insufficient comparative analysis with European educational systems or a potential idealization of precolonial realities, these critiques do not diminish the foundational importance of Dharampal’s intervention. If anything, they invite further research along the lines he pioneered.
Replanting the Roots
The Beautiful Tree stands as a seminal corrective to the erasures and distortions of colonial historiography. It is both a recovery of a forgotten intellectual tradition and a visionary blueprint for the future. As India confronts the task of reimagining its educational architecture in the twenty-first century, Dharampal’s work serves as a clarion call to reclaim the roots that once nourished a thriving knowledge culture. His findings compel us not only to remember what was lost, but to consider how it might be restored in forms suited to contemporary needs.
In reaffirming the vitality of India’s indigenous educational traditions, Dharampal offers more than a scholarly account. He offers an invitation to recover, to rebuild, and to re-root. The tree may have been uprooted, but its seeds remain.

Aditi Joshi founded Itihasdhir in 2023. She facilitates discussions on Indian history and the influence of historians. Currently, Aditi is a contributor of the VHPA initiative Stop HinduDvesha and serves as an Editor at Garuda Prakashan. A history graduate and folklore enthusiast, she is also an artist and translator, blending creativity and research to illuminate India’s cultural richness.

