Endogamy and Religious Boundaries in a Transnational Context—The Case of Knanaya Christians in North America

Abstract

The Knanaya Christians, also referred to as Thekkumbhagar or Southists, represent a distinct endogamous group within the wider community of Saint Thomas Christians of southern India. Their origins can be traced to the arrival of Jewish Christians led by Knai Thoma or Thomas of Cana, who migrated to the Malabar Coast from Persia in 345CE. Upon their arrival, they mingled with the established Christian population of the Malabar Coast, known as the Vadakkumbhagar or the Northists, whose roots extend back to the apostolic mission of Saint Thomas in the 1st century CE. However, the Knanaya Christians have successfully preserved their unique identity through the practice of endogamy, which keeps their bloodlines separate from those of the Vadakkumbhagar, while also maintaining a spiritual connection and liturgical continuity with the latter. Despite their matrimonial exclusivity, the Knanaya Christians have followed the same developmental path as the larger Thomas Christian community, sharing liturgical practices, enjoying similar privileges, facing the same challenges during the Portuguese era, experiencing divisions in the 17th century, and striving to preserve their identity. The migration of this endogamous community to other parts of the world since the mid-20th century, in similar lines with different groups of Thomas Christians, has posed challenges to their traditions and practices, especially endogamy. This paper explores how Knanaya Christians maintain and adapt their endogamous marriage traditions in transnational settings by focusing on how Knanaya religious authorities and lay members collectively negotiate these tensions—whether by reinforcing endogamy or adapting it in response to shifting realities in North American settings.

1. Introduction

The Knanaya Christians, a distinct endogamous subgroup among the Saint Thomas Christians or the Syrian Christians of Kerala, consider themselves ethnically distinct yet historically, liturgically, and spiritually connected with the Thomas Christians. While also sharing a deep connection to the Thomas Christians and their claims to the 1st century proselytizing mission of Apostle Thomas in Malabar, the Knanaya Christians trace their historical origins to the 4th century CE migration, of a group of Jewish Christian migrants from the Middle East to the Malabar Coast (geographically aligned to the present southern Indian state of Kerala), under the leadership of Thomas of Cana (also known as Knāi Thoma). The group of migrants included four hundred Jewish Christians, representing seventy-two families, as well as priests and others, embarking on a long and unpredictable sea voyage across the Arabian Sea to the Malabar Coast. The actual reason for such a migration is debated. While the community claims their migration as arising from their concern about the dwindling state of the Christians in Malabar, historians read the migration as a response to the persecution from the Zoroastrian ruler Shapur II beginning in the 340s CE (Frykenberg 2008, p. 104). Regardless of the purpose of the migration, whether it was a missionary endeavor or a means of safeguarding their faith, this migration narrative, although not empirically verifiable, remains foundational to the community’s collective memory and identity even today. Despite amalgamating with the already exclusivist and ancient Thomas Christian community of the Malabar Coast thriving from the 1st century CE, the Knanaya community maintained their ‘uniqueness’ by remaining strictly endogamous for nearly 1700 years, meaning they even forbade intermarriages even with the ‘native St Thomas Christians’ with whom they have spiritually, socially, and culturally aligned.

Long recognized by anthropologists and sociologists as a form of social closure, endogamy is practiced to preserve lineage, cultural values, and economic resources within communities. Unlike exogamy, where individuals are permitted by their community to marry outside of their own community, endogamy leaves individuals with fewer partner choices and, therefore, deeply responsive to structural and cultural changes, including migration, urbanization, and globalization. For endogamous communities with smaller populations, such as the Knanaya, whose overall population (Catholic and Jacobite subgroups combined) is only about three hundred thousand, with nearly 35,000 living in North America alone, the durability of endogamy becomes increasingly precarious, especially in diasporic contexts. Endogamy has long been central to Knanaya identity, serving as both a religious and cultural boundary to preserve community exclusivity. However, migration to North America, Europe, and the Middle East has complicated its strict enforcement, as intermarriage, evolving social norms, and legal frameworks in host countries pose new challenges. In recent decades, increased spatial mobility, migration, and the growth of second- and third-generation Knanaya diaspora members have placed considerable strain on the viability of endogamous marriage. As a larger percentage of the Knanaya community lives outside their original habitat, Kerala, they are introduced to more pluralistic societies where opportunities for intermarriage are increasingly common and convenient. This article interrogates how the practice of endogamy is maintained, adapted, or contested in domestic as well as transnational contexts and what this reveals about identity and belonging in diasporic religious communities. Drawing on ethnographic fieldwork, interviews, and analyses of church policies and online discourse, the article considers the role of religious institutions in regulating marriage, the implications of excommunication, and the lived experiences of individuals navigating these expectations. By applying theories of ethnic boundary-making, social reproduction, and transnationalism, this paper highlights endogamy as both a site of continuity and contestation. Ultimately, it sheds light on how traditional practices evolve in the face of migration and generational change, contributing to broader discussions on religion, mobility, and identity.

The article begins by providing a historical background of the community, beginning from Persia to India and then their migration within Kerala and later to other parts of India and finally to the Middle East, Europe and the Americas. Highlighting themes of displacement and identity formation, the narrative shifts to the community’s safeguarded practice of endogamy or blood weddings, as Richard Swiderski chooses to call it. The practice of endogamy is explored as both the foundation as well as the most formidable impediment for the community in todays globalized setting. The article argues that although Knanaya endogamy faces significant challenges in the diaspora, the community’s resilience, expressed in its dedication to preserving the practice despite internal and external criticism, has been the key factor sustaining it.

2. The Historical Background

The community of Syrian Christians who practice endogamy within the larger Saint Thomas Christian or Syrian Christian community of Kerala can be described as a ‘micro-ethnic community’ within the broader Thomas Christian body. This community is known by several names, including Thekkumbagar (Southists) and Knanaya Christians. Another term, charamvarikal (“those who adorn ashes”), or charamkettikal (ash tiers) is often regarded as derogatory by the community. The name Thekkumbagar, which has its roots in the community’s historic place of habitation in the ancient city of Cranganore, has traditionally been the most widely used. However, in modern times, the term Knanaya Christians has gained popularity, particularly as the community has expanded beyond its original area of habitation (Knanayology Always Inspiring 2025). Historically, the Knanaya community developed as a cohesive group united by ethnic and religious conformity. However, in the 17th century, this community split into Catholic and Jacobite factions as the larger Thomas Christian community experienced Latinization efforts initiated by European missionaries. The designation Knanaya, which claims historical legitimacy from the figure Knai Thoma and the community’s asserted Judaeo-Christian lineage, came into common use during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This period coincided with significant ecclesiastical consolidation within the broader Thomas Christian community, which was seeking to separate itself from the Latin Rite and Latin ecclesiastical hierarchy primarily governed and controlled by European missionaries. Both the Catholic and Jacobite factions of the Knanaya community aimed to assert their relative autonomy within their respective church hierarchies, ultimately leading to the establishment of separate eparchies for the Knanaya Christians within these denominations. It is interesting to note that there exists an internal discord between the Knanaya Catholic and Knanaya Jacobite regarding the very geographical identification of Knai, which supposedly refers to the place of origin of Knai Thoma, the merchant who led the migration of Persian Christians in the 4th century. While the Catholic historians tend to identify Knai with a place under the administration of the Bishop of Seleucia-Ctesiphon, the Jacobites identify the place as located in Anatolia, which fell under the seat of the Patriarch of Antioch, who heads the Syriac Orthodox Church under whom the Knanaya Jacobites belong1 (Kollaparambil 1992, pp. 1–21). Meanwhile, the term charamvarikal is used by non-Knanaya individuals to mockingly refer to the community’s distinct practice of smearing their bodies with ashes during Lent. Although this practice is based on Jewish customs, the community finds this name offensive.

This article will use the term Knanaya to refer to the endogamous micro-ethnic community of Thomas Christians, in accordance with the community’s contemporary preference

Reconstructing a distinct history of the Knanaya community prior to the arrival of the Portuguese poses a significant historiographical challenge primarily due to the intertwining of their narrative with the broader history of non-Knanaya Thomas Christians with whom the Knanaya Christians amalgamated after their migration to the Malabar Coast. Several factors add further layers of complexity to the already obscure history of early Thomas Christians in Kerala: the lack of historical awareness among indigenous Christian communities before the nineteenth century, the destruction of indigenous liturgical documents during the Portuguese drive for Latinization, and the frequent mixing of Knanaya and non Knanaya Thomas Christian identities in both scholarly and popular accounts. Due to these reasons, it is practically impossible to gauge the exact weight that the Knanaya community placed on endogamy based on their distinct ethnicity over religiosity prior to the 19th century, especially from the scarce historical documents that have reached down to us. Since the 19th century, an effervescence in identity formation and fortification has unfolded in the Indian subcontinent, as an obvious impact of the Indian independence movement has seen a significant proliferation of documents specifically mentioning traditions associated with various Christian communities and denominations in Kerala, especially as the communities wrestled with colonial modernity and historiography. This historiographical gap is not insurmountable, thanks to the archeological, epigraphic, and oral traditions that have survived in the region, offering insights into Christian history and lifestyle before the Portuguese arrival. Even such documents lack a specific mention of endogamy as exclusive to the Knanaya community alone. The Knanaya community has a rich collection of oral traditions preserved through their folk songs. However, can these sources provide conclusive evidence regarding the community’s emphasis on endogamy? The definitive answer to this question is “no”.

The Catechism book for Grade 1, published by the Diocese of Kottayam, features an image of a ship and a depiction of Knanayi Thommen on its cover. This imagery emphasizes the significant story of migration that is central to the existence of the Knanaya community. One important folk song in the Knanaya tradition, known as Rambaan Pattu, narrates the arrival of immigrants from Persia, led by the merchant Knanayi Thommen or Knai Thoma. According to the community’s tradition, following their arrival on the Malabar coast, the migrant Persian Christians led by Knai Thoma presented gifts and formal greetings to the reigning Chera monarch, Cheraman Perumal who being impressed by their presence and bearing, granted them lands to habitat along with seventy two royal privileges typically endorsed to the upper castes. Although the legendary copper plates that supposedly recorded these privileges have not survived to date, the Knanaya community continues to preserve their claims to such royal privileges through collective memories, which continue to function as a foundational element in their historical consciousness (Philip and Mathew 1950, p. 71).

With the mysterious disappearance of the only possible historical account pertaining to Knanaya community—the Thomas of Cana Copper Plates or the Knai Thoma cheppedukal, from the Portuguese custody in 16th century, the Knanaya community had to turn to their folk songs to hinge their ‘special status’ within the Thomas Christian community in the wake of the Thomas Christian community’s separation from the clutches of Latin influence. In 1910, shortly before the establishment of the Catholic eparchy of Kottayam for the Knanayas, PU Lukas, a Catholic Knanaya, collected and published folk songs related to the Knanaya community in Malayalam. He titled the collection Malayalathe Suriyani Kristyanikalude Purathanapattukal, which translates to Ancient Songs of Syrian Christians of Malabar (and not Knanaya in particular). Although the title did not specifically indicate exclusivity to the Knanaya community, the work later became an important printed record of the community’s oral history, produced in about eleven editions.

As several Knanaya folk tradition further narrates (and assert), the migrant Syrian Christians settled on the thekku (southern) side of the city of Cranganore, in proximity to the already established thekkumbhaga joothar (Southist Jews). In contrast, the established community of (non-Knanaya) Thomas Christians occupied the northern side of the Periyar River and thus became known as vadakkumbhagar (Northists). Over time, this geographic positioning in relation to the southern and northern banks of the Periyar River gave rise to the communal identity of thekkumbhagar (Southists) and vadakkumbhagar (Northists). Richard M Swiderski, writing on the Knanaya community, particularly focusing on their ‘blood weddings’, however, understands this division as part of the larger Christian trend to ‘copy’ traits from the prestigious Brahmin caste, in the light of his understanding of the Brahmin community’s division on the same lines (Swiderski 1988b, p. 74). What initially may have been a matter of settlement geography became, over time, a marker of identity, memory, and lineage, setting the stage for later social and ritual divisions that would come to define the Southist-Northist binary within Thomas Christians in Kerala. Despite this division, the Knanaya community preferred to remain endogamous, restricting their matrimonial relationships to the Knanaya community alone.

The endogamous nature of the Knanaya Christians was not an impediment to acculturating to the larger non-Knanaya Thomas Christians and the cultural landscape of Kerala. They contributed to the economic welfare of the land through trade and commerce while simultaneously enriching the liturgical and spiritual life of the Thomas Christian community as a whole. The interaction of the Thomas Christians with the Portuguese from the 16th century and the latter’s endeavors to subjugate the Thomas Christians to Roman Christianity had caused incisions within the community that were deeper, slashing the bond of liturgical conformity that tied the Thomas Christian community for several centuries. Owing to the Knanaya community’s alignment with the larger Thomas Christian community of Southern India, they too were affected by the Synod of Diamper of 1599 and the developments henceforth. The community experienced significant divisions during the 17th century following the Coonan Cross Oath, leading to differences in liturgical preferences and denominational affiliations within the community. Today, the majority of the Knanaya community is organized into two distinct denominational subgroups: the Knanaya Catholic subgroup, which has an autonomous eparchy under the Syro Malabar Church following the East Syrian Rite, and the Knanaya Jacobite subgroup, which has a diocese under the Syriac Orthodox Patriarchate of Antioch adhering to the West Syrian Rite. Their respective ecclesiastical headquarters are located in Kottayam and Chingavanam in Kerala. Following the Coonan Cross Oath of 1653 that marked a rejection of the Roman rite and the Portuguese ecclesiastical dominance over the Thomas Christians and the subsequent introduction of Jacobite and West Syriac liturgy in Kerala, approximately one-third of the Thomas Christians, including a similar proportion of the Knanaya, aligned themselves with the Jacobite faction. Over the ensuing centuries, multiple attempts for ecclesial reunion were made, but none achieved lasting success until the early 20th century. Beginning in 1921, several Knanaya Jacobite priests reconciled with the Catholic Church and were incorporated into the Knanaya Catholic Eparchy of Kottayam. By decree of the Congregation for the Oriental Churches on 5 July 1921, these priests were permitted to continue their ministry in the West-Syrian Rite, now known as the Syro-Malankara Rite. After the formation of the Syro-Malankara hierarchy in May 1932, an agreement allowed reunited Knanaya Jacobites to stay within the Eparchy of Kottayam while preserving their Syro-Malankara liturgical tradition. Recently, some members of the Knanaya Syro Malankara community have advocated for the appointment of a Knanaya bishop in accordance with Malankara traditions. Citation required

A second wave of Knanaya migration occurred in the early 1940s, specifically targeting the Malabar region. This movement was primarily motivated by the quest for arable land and the necessity for economic relief in the aftermath of World War II. The Eparchy of Kottayam officially endorsed this migration, having initially secured 1800 acres of land in what is now Kasargod to facilitate the new settlement. The first church-sponsored migration commenced in February 1943, with seventy-two families departing from Kottayam. Upon their arrival in Malabar, the migrants were greeted with a ceremonial welcome and participated in a Mass held in a temporary chapel before being assigned their individual plots. This new settlement was named Rajapuram, formerly known as Echikkol. In subsequent years, additional waves of migration followed, resulting in the establishment of new settlements in Madampam (also referred to as Alexnagar) and Madathumala (currently known as Ranipuram).

The Knanaya migration to North America, which began following India’s independence, gained significant momentum during the 1950s and 1960s. Initially, these relocations were intended as temporary moves for educational opportunities, but they gradually transitioned into permanent settlements. The surge in Knanaya migration continued through the 1980s and 1990s, particularly as the healthcare industry in North America began attracting professionals from around the world. Major cities such as New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Houston, and Tampa emerged as early hubs for the community, while cities like Boston, San Francisco, and Los Angeles drew information technologists in the wake of the IT boom. To foster unity and connectivity within the community, various organizations were established, including the Knanaya Catholic Congress of North America and the Diaspora Knanaya Catholic Congress. Today, both the Catholic and Jacobite sectors of the Knanaya community have a strong presence in the United States. According to estimates from 2020, approximately 9.4% of the total Knanaya Catholic families which is approximately 3500, reside in the United States, while about 252 families (0.68%) live in Canada (Mutholath 2020, pp. 21–22).

3. Envisioning the Knanaya Community Within the Broader Thomas Christian Community

The non Knanaya Thomas Christians of Malabar (vadakkumbhagar) and the Christian immigrants from Persia represent distinct origins, set apart in two distinct historical periods, the former claiming existence from 1st cen CE and the latter from 4th cen CE, yet the thekkumbhagar (new immigrants) integrated with the Thomas Christians in most aspects except marriage. A Knanaya folk song, Mar Thommen Nanmayal (“With the Blessings of Saint Thomas”), sung during community ceremonies, invokes Apostle Thomas, who spread Christianity in Malabar (Lukas 1910, pp. 1–2; Mutholath 2024). The Knanaya’s merging with the Thomas Christians despite different backgrounds can be explained by a shared Apostolic tradition: Thomas was also recognized as Apostle of Persia, the Knanaya’s place of origin (Frykenberg 2008, p. 97).

This relationship can be envisioned as two concentric circles: the wider Thomas Christian community and the Knanaya within it. European encounters divided both, producing Catholic and Jacobite factions. Each side produced its own histories, balancing the Legend of Apostle Thomas with claims of Persian ancestry. Rather than dismissing these accounts, they can be situated within the Indian Ocean trade networks based along the Malabar Coast especially the port city of Muziris (identified as closely located near Cranganore /Kodungallor in central Kerala) in the early centuries of Common Era, which make Knai Thoma’s migration plausible. Yet the three-century gap between Apostle Thomas’s mission and Knai Thoma’s migration demanded careful reconciliation, with Knanaya historians emphasizing both apostolic ties and West Asian lineage.

P.M. Mathew in his introduction to Joseph Kulathramannil’s book on Knanaya history, portrays Knai Thommen as uplifting degenerated Christian community of Malabar after Apostle Thomas’s death, thus affirming the Christian missionary commitment of the community. “In the fourth century of the Christian Era, a rich Syrian merchant, who had trade links with Kerala came to know of these so-called Christians. He took it as a duty to uplift these fellow Christians. He promised to help them. With the sanction of Cheraman Perumal, the then ruler of Kerala he brought in a group of about 400 people consisting of a bishop, two priests, a few deacons and 72 families. Cheraman Perumal gave them enough land to build houses and church in the village named Mahodar Patanam. The local Christians accepted the colonizers as their benefactors, accepted their bishop, Mar Joseph of Urha as their bishop and also accepted their worship and rites. Hence, the Christians of Kerala came to be known as Syrian Christians.” (Kulathramannil 2000, pp. xvii–xviii). Jacob Vellian echoes this missionary narrative where he projects the migration as sanctioned, sanctified and endorsed by the Catholicos of the East in Seleucia-Ctesiphon (Veḷḷian 2001, p. 1). In contrast, historians such as Pius Malekandathil link the migration to persecution under Shapur II of Persia, whose suspicion of Christians after Rome’s Christianization fueled harsh measures in the 340s (Patterson 2017, p. 188). E.M. Philip likewise supports a persecution-driven context (Philip and Mathew 1950, pp. 72–73). Patterson notes that Bishop Simeon’s refusal to collect a double tax for Shapur II led to his execution in 341 CE, situating Knai Thoma’s migration in this turbulent moment.

Community narratives emphasize Knai Thommen as redeemer of the spiritually peregrinating Thomas Christian community (non Knanaya and therefore with vadakkumbhagar identity), but historians stress political pressures. This tension fed 20th-century identity debates, where Knanaya claims of noble descent and endogamy were contested by the vadakkumbhagar (Northists), often through the dissection of the “two-wife” legend. Jesuit Fr. Monserrate’s 1579 letter and later accounts describe Thomas’s dual marriages, one to a local woman (Brown 1956, pp. 175–76; Ayyar 1926, p. 50)—stories that non-Knanaya Christians used to undermine Southist exclusivity. By casting origins as mixed, these counter-narratives delegitimized endogamy while reasserting caste-coded hierarchies. This raises critical questions: if Knai Thoma married outside his group, did he not violate endogamy? Why would he do so if endogamy defined Knanaya identity? Read literally, the tale undermines apostolic continuity; read metaphorically, it suggests two paths of proselytization—among existing Judeo-Christian communities and among outsiders. Either way, the story complicates rigid notions of endogamy and identity within the Knanaya tradition.

Why do the rich, complex and complicated history of Knanaya community in our discourse on endogamy matter is an important question to consider. To elucidate the point, the author demands the reader’s attention to three crucial themes that looms over the historical development of Knanaya community—displacement, assimilation and identity formation—that shines. The community’s history points out to periods of spatial displacement of the community at various times—Persia to Malabar Coast, South Central Kerala to Northern Kerala (Malabar) and Kerala to other parts of India and from India to the diaspora. Such displacements, although they did not include the entire population of the community (exception is the migration from Persia to Malabar Coast in 4th cen CE), have been exposing the community to cultures with whom they positively assimilated in every aspect of social life except matrimony. Doing so they were forming a unique community identity founded on the practice of ‘endogamy’ itself. The very concept defined and continues to define the Knanaya status in domestic as well as diasporic spaces. A deep historical understanding of the community supports in comprehending the Knanaya community’s ‘attachment’ to the social practice as well as explains their resilience in safeguarding the practice even in the diaspora.

4. Endogamy—Cultural and Theoretical Implications

Etymologically, the term ‘endogamy’ is rooted in Greek, with ‘endo’ signifying ‘within’ and ‘gamy’ denoting “to marry.” This practice encompasses marrying within a specific demographic group, such as a class, caste, ethnicity, race, or religion, and can be conceptualized as a social mechanism employed by groups to maintain control over material resources and reinforce communal solidarity. From Gordon’s (1964) perspective, endogamous practices reinforce social cohesion by ensuring that marriage reinforces, rather than disrupts, the normative structures of the community. Within caste systems, tribal societies, and ethnoreligious groups, endogamy operates not merely as a marital norm but as a form of collective self-regulation. Endogamy can be categorized into several distinct forms, including kindred endogamy, which involves marriages between close relatives; religious endogamy, which advocates for marriages between individuals sharing the same religious beliefs; caste endogamy, exemplified by the traditional caste system in India, which restricts marriage to individuals within the same caste; racial or ethnic endogamy, which emphasizes the importance of ethnic and racial purity; and class or social endogamy, which pertains to individuals who marry within their own social class, typically characterized by shared levels of wealth, occupation, and educational attainment. Each of these forms serves to reinforce the boundaries and cohesion of their respective groups, thus sustaining their social structures and identities. However, a limited gene pool in smaller endogamous communities can lead to an increased prevalence of genetic disorders.

On the flip side, these rules of endogamy primarily stem from a deep-seated aversion toward racial, national, ethnic, class-based, or religious differences. As Swidesrski puts it, the Knanaya safeguard their practice of endogamy “as nothing less than sustaining down to the present the Patriarch of Antioch’s ancient en-joinder to keep the faith and racial purity” of the community (Swiderski 1988b, p. 79). Transgressing such boundaries is perceived not merely as a personal deviation but as a symbolic affront to the collective identity of one’s community. The individual who violates these norms is seen as compromising both their own status and that of their group. However, the increasingly dynamic, technologically adept, and globalized world has found various reasons to break such barriers, which were meant to control and govern closely knit, geographically contiguous communities of the past. Most importantly, the migration of people in the post-World War II period from around the world to Western countries has transformed the way how the boundaries of marriage are perceived. While some communities like the Knanaya still uphold endogamy with the same strictness, frequent intermarriage between Knanaya and non-Knanaya couples have emerged as a powerful counterforce, challenging and reshaping the very prejudices that once justified endogamous separation, especially in the diaspora. Contemporary debates over endogamy thus reflect broader questions about identity, autonomy, and the nature of community in a globalized world. For some communities, the persistence of endogamy represents a conscious act of cultural resistance and continuity; for others, its decline marks the transformation of group boundaries and the renegotiation of belonging in the diaspora.

Where can the Knanaya be located in this dynamic evolving diaspora scenario? Given that Knanaya Christians are unique to Kerala, their form of endogamy has been influenced not only by their religious affiliations but also by the socio-cultural patterns that were already present and evolving in Kerala during their immigration in the 4th century. To fully understand this, it is essential to explore the endogamous practices in Kerala. If endogamy was an exclusivist practice among the Knanaya community to preserve their descent, the community was not the only community practicing endogamy in Kerala during ancient times. Such a practice was popular among various groups and castes. Endogamy was a common practice among the various castes and subcastes within Kerala to preserve their caste purity. The Namboothiri Brahmins are one such community that preserves such a practice. The Jews too have a reputation of being strictly endogamous. These details are crucial because the beneficiaries of the 1st century mission of Apostle Thomas were, in fact, individuals and families primarily from these communities. The community of early Thomas Christians thus formed hardly married from outside their own community and still have reservations about having to do so. Interestingly, the Knanaya community itself does not claim endogamy as an exclusive practice within their community but rather accepts and appreciates how endogamy was widely practiced across various cultures and communities across the world and those in Kerala. In August 2011, Matthew Ulalamthara wrote in the Knanaya newspaper Apna Desh, emphasizing the necessity of granting special status to the Knanaya community within the Syro Malabar Church. He argues that this recognition is deserved due to the community’s dedication to preserving the ancient customs of Syrian Christians, which they have carefully maintained through the practice of endogamy (Ulakamthara 2011, p. 7).

Writing in the 1920s, Anthakrishna Ayyar’s observation in this regard is particularly important. He writes, “Each division among the Syrian Christians has become, as in a Hindu caste, an endogamous sect, with no intermarriage between the members of one sect, and those of another, though no objection is made to interdining. Thus, there is no intermarriage between the Syro-Romans and the Syrian Jacobites, or between the former and the Latin Catholics” (Ayyar 1926, p. 60). Thus, the argument can be made that endogamy, while often discussed in the context of the Knanaya community specifically, is a broader social phenomenon that reflects underlying principles of affiliation and exclusivity across different communities and religions, including Christianity in Kerala.

5. Endogamy and Knanaya Identify in Domestic and Diasporic Contexts

The rules governing Knanaya community membership are rooted in the practice of endogamy itself. Membership within the Knanaya community is predicated upon a combination of genealogical descent and strict marital boundaries that are exclusive and rigid. Primarily, membership is defined by birth to two Knanaya parents, with the community historically rejecting the inclusion of individuals resulting from exogamous unions. Children born to mixed-parentage marriages, where only one parent is Knanaya, are typically denied full communal membership, while the individual (and not their spouse or children is still considered Knanaya by birth, but not part of the community.

This exclusivist framework is deeply embedded within both the Knanaya Catholic and Knanaya Jacobite subgroups. Nevertheless, members of the Knanaya Catholic and Jacobite communities are permitted to marry one another, despite their denominational differences. This situation presents an intriguing example of how the community’s desire to maintain purity of blood can transcend the denominational affiliations. The Knanaya Catholic subgroup is particularly noteworthy for possessing its own personal jurisdiction within the Syro-Malabar Church—the Archdiocese of Kottayam—which is globally unique for being defined explicitly by endogamous membership rather than territorial boundaries. Similarly, the Knanaya Jacobites also possess their own badrasanam at Chingavanam, also located in the Kottayam district of Kerala. This ecclesiastical arrangement has enabled the Knanaya community to retain a high degree of internal autonomy, particularly in the administration of sacraments and clerical appointments, thereby reinforcing endogamous boundaries. The community’s emphasis on endogamy functions as both a mechanism of boundary maintenance and as a means of preserving an ethnic-religious identity that is simultaneously genealogical, cultural, and ecclesial.

Interestingly, contemporary Kerala exhibits a more relaxed attitude toward endogamy. These days, exogamous marriages that transcend caste, religion, and community boundaries are on the rise and becoming increasingly accepted. Despite these shifts in the domestic landscape, the Knanaya community has made concerted efforts to uphold endogamous practices both within their own community and among diaspora members. Interviews conducted with Knanaya community members in both domestic and diasporic contexts indicate that for them, endogamy serves as both a social and theological commitment. For them, marriage is the foundational institution that sustains and nourishes the group. One elderly respondent from Kottayam, Kerala, identified endogamy as ‘the living testimony of the community’s commitment to their faith and ethnicity’. Another responded by seconding the opinion by calling endogamy as the ‘perennial lifeline’ of the community to the future. In fact, more than the legend of the Knai Thoma’s migration, the custom of endogamous marriage is what holds the community together, preserving the bloodline and legacy of the first families that migrated to Malabar in the 4th century. The practice of strict endogamy is therefore crucial for the Knanaya community to ensure this preservation.

Additionally, Knanaya marriage customs share similarities with Jewish and Chaldean Christian practices from Iraq, linking their legacy to the ancient Christians and the roots of Christianity through the preservation of particular marriage customs. Knanaya matrimonial traditions reflect Semitic cultural influences, notably from Jewish and Chaldean practices. During an interview, an elderly Knanaya Jacobite woman residing in the United States recalled and lamented how the weeklong celebration of the Knanaya wedding ceremony has been reduced to just three days for the sake of convenience. Such a trend is not restricted to communities in the diaspora but is rising among Knanaya living in Kerala as well. The Knanaya wedding ceremonies include othukalyanam, mylanchi ideel, anthamcharthal, and kalyanam. Many of these ceremonies take place in the homes of the bride or groom and involve active participation from the Knanaya community. Members of the community come together to arrange the pandal(canopy), prepare food, and engage in singing traditional wedding songs known as kalyanapattukal. Ceremonies such as mylanchi ideel, where the bride’s hands and feet are anointed with henna by her grandmother, echo similar customs among Jews and Muslims, and are accompanied by biblical symbolism referencing Eve’s transgression. The Chantham Charthal, (also called anthamcharthu) or ceremonial grooming of the groom, as well as the symbolic clasping of hands by paternal uncles during betrothal, resonate with tribal and clan-based rites of alliance seen in Semitic cultures. Other practices, such as the tying of the thali using thread from the bridal veil, communal offerings of milk and fruit, blessing rituals with palm leaves, and seating the couple under a canopy (manarkolam) reminiscent of the Jewish huppah, further reinforce this connection. The Illappanam or clan money gifted to the bride aligns with Jewish dowry customs, while the prominence of oral traditions like panan pattu mirrors the Jewish emphasis on preserving ancestral narratives. The endogamy practiced by the Knanaya community is enriched with rituals that enhance the theological, historical, and cultural connections to their roots among its members.

The Knanaya community not only takes pride in tracing their endogamy to the Jewish and the later endogamous practices among the Judeo-Christians from Mesopotamia but emphasize this relationship as a ‘living testimony’ of the group’s fidelity to their ethnic and religious roots. Most books on Knanaya history emphasize endogamy as being based on their affinity to the Scriptures (Knanaya History 2024). Tradition states that as Knai Thoma and his entourage depart from Uraha, they received advice from their elders about the importance of safeguarding themselves from intermarriage with the “locals which would spoil the sanctity of the race and attract them to the local Gods”. Throughout Knanaya community’s claim to the Biblical roots of their endogamous practice, the implications of Solomon’s marital alliances with gentile women, as well as the narrative surrounding Esau, are frequently cited to illustrate the significance of endogamy (Kulathramannil 2000, pp. 1–2). These examples are frequently cited by both religious leaders and laypeople to highlight the theological and sociocultural implications of intermarriage as presented in biblical texts. Solomon’s eventual decline into idolatry and Esau’s estrangement from his birthright are underscored as potential risks and consequences of straying from the ancestral and communal tradition of endogamy.

Despite the paucity of tangible and solid historiographical evidence directly linking the Knanaya migration, the community has preserved a rich repository of folklores that nourish the collective memory of its members, creating a sense of historical identity. These folklores and other oral traditions have served as a ‘central constitutive force’ reiterating the Knanaya identity which the community preserves through endogamy. In fact, such folklores acted as agents to claim and reclaim the Knanaya identity in the Indian context. One example of a folk song performed at Knanaya weddings is called Munnam Malankara, which can be loosely translated as “Before Malabar.” This song tells the story of the community’s migration and how they were welcomed in Malabar (Lukas 1910, p. 6). By singing this song at weddings, which serve as community gatherings, the Knanaya people preserve their collective memory and reinforce their sense of solidarity through oral tradition. As Swiderski rightfully states, “the Knanaya marriage ceremony can be read as a symbolism of endogamy achieved and community perpetuated” (Swiderski 1988a, p. 165).

The endogamous status of the Knanaya community is often seen as a barrier to its engagement with Christian doctrine, particularly from the perspective of the Papal See. Although there have not been explicit statements or actions reflecting this view, the Knanaya Catholic community believes that their unique endogamous identity has hindered certain demands that would typically be granted without issue. In the 1980s, a section of the Knanaya Catholic community, which had migrated to northern Kerala in the 1940s, expressed a desire to bifurcate the Eparchy of Kottayam and establish a new Eparchy headquartered in Kannur. This initiative aimed to better serve the pastoral needs of nearly one-third of the Knanaya Catholics living in the region. The request was motivated by the practical challenges of managing the northern districts from the Knanaya Catholic headquarters in Kottayam, which is over 215 miles away. Bishop Kunnacherry, in his Pro Memoria II, notes that although the Holy See has not provided an official explanation for its inaction, unofficial reports from members of the Congregation of the Oriental Churches suggest that the “endogamous ethnicity of the Knanaya community” is viewed as a potential “objection” to the establishment of a separate eparchy for this community (Kunnacherry 1997, pp. 62–63).

In the diaspora, particularly in North America and the Middle East, the question of communal membership has become increasingly contested. Migration, demographic pressures, and intermarriage have prompted debates around inclusivity, identity, and ecclesial belonging. While some advocate for maintaining traditional norms of endogamy, others propose a redefinition of Knanaya identity to accommodate contemporary realities. These tensions have not only provoked internal contestation but have also drawn scrutiny from ecclesiastical authorities, especially within the Catholic Church, where the alignment between canonical norms and ethnic exclusivity remains the subject of theological and juridical debate.

The Knanaya community’s evolution in the diaspora highlights a critical debate surrounding identity, inclusion, and cultural preservation. Since their arrival in the United States in the 1970s, the Knanaya people have faced significant challenges regarding their identity as they settled primarily in Chicago. With the establishment of the Knanaya Association of North America (KANA) in 1979, a unifying force emerged that embraced all Knanaya members, regardless of their marital choices (Knanaya or non-Knanaya spouses) or their denominational affiliation. Interestingly, this association was modeled as a lay association, honoring the birth status of the members rather than their ‘marital choices’ as the deciding factor for legitimizing their Knanaya heritage. Such an open and inclusive approach offended a few individuals who were concerned about the invalidity of the Knanaya heritage in members who had intermarriages. Therefore, they formed another association called the Knanaya Catholic Society (KCS), which restricted its membership to only individuals who had endogamous marriages. The growth and influence of KCS was rapid, as by 1981, they had enough representation to request the Archdiocese of Chicago for a priest to serve the Malayalam-speaking Catholic communities of Chicago. The Archdiocese responded to the request by approving the appointment of Fr Jacob Chollampel, a Knanaya priest endorsed by the Bishop of Kottayam. However, the non-Knanaya Catholics were not happy with the appointment and wanted a separate Ministry for themselves with a non-Knanaya Catholic priest in charge. The new appointment for the non-Knanaya Catholics started nearly four years after the Knanaya Ministry! Meanwhile, the Knanaya Catholic members who had intermarried with non-Knanaya spouses desired to join the Knanaya Catholic ministry in the interim, which was vehemently opposed by the members of KCS who found it against the Knanaya ideology. This controversy continued even after the Syro Malabar Ministry for non-Knanaya was established in 1985.

While the case in Chicago may have had the potential to kindle controversies and produce a significant impact on the Knanaya community in the 1980s, it was one of many that came to the spotlight. As I conducted research for this study, which began in phases in 2022, I discovered that the Knanaya community seeks comfort and assurance by remaining within their “Knanaya bubble,” driven by a fear of losing their sense of belonging. Many community members, particularly those aged 35 to 50, were reluctant to participate in the surveys and interviews, often requesting anonymity. The younger generations on the other hand were open to the interview requests and shared their thoughts and ideas about endogamy (and exogamy) with great enthusiasm. Such a dichotomy indicates the internal battles faced by the older generation of Knanaya community members, who are often silenced by a larger system that take into advantage their fear of damaging family reputation and the threat of community exclusion.

Almost all the 13 interviewees were unanimous in their fears of the fewer partner choices the Knanaya youth is left with. In fact, 90 percent of the respondents understood this lack of suitable partners within the community as the prime threat to the sustenance of the Knanaya community in North America. According to one respondent from Tampa, Florida, it is not the number (population) of marriageable youth that mattered to her, but the proportion of suitable marriageable youth from the community. She believes that although the Knanaya community in North America can boast of economic stability, academic excellence, and professional achievements, there is an increasing concern regarding the emotional compatibility among its members. Similar opinions were presented by other respondents who were concerned about the increasing divorce rates among the youth. One former Knanaya community member from Philadelphia commented on how his community’s Jewish-Christian identity has jeopardized his own partner choices. For him, “their community is occupying a luminal space, very ambiguous, in the world of Semitic religions: their Jewish-Christian identity actually forbade them to marry either Jews or Christians”. The response regards the community’s identity claim as countering the Christian doctrines of inclusion, thus creating a situation where ethnic purity is prioritized over faith. In many cases, the community is navigating such crisis by opting for Knanaya brides and grooms from outside North America. While such a practical move has addressed concerns of the limitation of partner choices, it has not addressed concerns of emotional compatibility. Having been raised in two distinct culturalscapes, some marriages between couples from North America and India have undergone significant stress to culturally adapt and emotionally bond in both directions. A responded female residing in New York has shared her struggles to culturally adapt to the North American lifestyle after her marriage with a man who was a second generation Knanaya emigrant. Having lived and educated in central Kerala until her marriage, she found it hard to accustom herself to the fast paced, monotonous lifestyle in a bustling cityscape. Although she is now adapted to the lifestyle and shares a deep bond with her husband and his family after 15 years of marriage, she recounts how she at some point in her initial year of marriage that Knanaya ethnicity was her only ‘invisibly visible’ bond with her new family. “Such situations may change for some individuals eventually, but for some others they may lead to a broken marriage, We have no choice although, but to keep our promise to our parents to not forsake our personal goals for the community’s sake”, says a 25-year-old’s mother who is preparing her daughter for marriage.

Ever since the Knanaya communities have gradually begun to move out to the diaspora, the pool of potential partners has significantly reduced, and their social interactions have significantly expanded. Such situations have resulted in many Knanaya members, both from the Catholic and the Orthodox factions, marrying from outside their own community. While the Knanaya Catholic faction had clearly ruled out the possibility of the non-Knanaya spouses from such marriages, given that Knanaya tradition also want the Knanaya members of such unions to give up their Knanaya community membership, there have been movements in the diaspora to reclaim their Knanaya membership and lineage. The movements in Chicago had significant consequences that endangered the community’s practice of endogamy. The confrontations between KANA and KCS in Chicago led to the community receiving a Rescript from the Oriental Congregation in 1986. This directive stated that the customary practice followed in Kerala of excluding from the community those who marry non-Knanaya spouses was not applicable in the United States. However, both community members and Knanaya bishops protested this directive, yet it remains in effect and has never been revoked. Shiens Akasla, who writes about the contribution of Knanaya migration to the Knanaya community, specifically notes the impact of the Rescript in gaining credibility for Knanaya members who have married non-Knanaya spouses (Akasala 2014, p. 510; Mutholath 2020, p. 10). Such a trend might not guarantee actual community inclusion, although might ‘protect’ community members from obvious exclusion!

In the North American diaspora, the Knanaya youth find themselves in a challenging position, as they navigate their time-bound religious obligations. Many younger generations perceive the expectation of endogamy as restrictive or outdated. A survey conducted by the author among members of the Knanaya community in 2024 revealed that while 80 percent take pride in their belonging to the Knanaya community, only 60 percent regard endogamy as an essential practice within the diaspora. Respondents emphasized that their indifference is not rooted in a disdain for longstanding traditions but rather stems from a desire to socially engage with other Christian communities, particularly the non-Knanaya Thomas Christian group. At least 90 percent of respondents identified ‘generational shifts in attitudes towards endogamy’ as the primary reason for the general decline among younger generations in their commitment to Knanaya endogamy. Respondents aged 18 to 34 elaborated on the factors driving this shift. Some noted the incompatibility of the exclusivist endogamy within the broader context of Christian doctrines of inclusion, while others viewed strict endogamy as misogynistic, perceiving it as a means to control and limit community freedom; an approach that seems increasingly irrelevant in today’s globalized world. Three young respondents from Chicago noted that, although they respect their community’s customs, the practice of endogamy and generations of inbreeding have led to various congenital diseases and genetic disorders among their population. Consequently, their desire to “break the chain” arises from genuine concern for the welfare of the Knanaya community as a whole. While such discussions about inbreeding and the incidents of congenial conditions have been dominating the tables of Knanaya community members between 18 and 35 years of age, they admit how ‘irrelevant’ of a reason it was to break the family’s commitment to the community. George Alex (name changed for anonymity) a doctor from California, has raised his concerns about the effects of inbreeding within the community. He considers inbreeding among Knanaya would eventually “weaken the community, transforming it eventually into a conglomeration of people with genetic mutations and congenial condition”. His solution for saving the community as he claims rests with the community’s and its leader’s timely intervention and “relaxing rules of marriage”.

Despite changing scenarios, at least part of the community and its leaders, irrespective of the denominations, understand endogamy as quintessential to Knanaya existence.

6. Community Consciousness and Knanaya Endogamy

Since the early twentieth century, specifically following the erection of separate eparchies for Catholic and Jacobite Knanaya Christians within their respective denominations, the ecclesiastical authorities have taken a keen interest in collecting, conserving, publishing, controlling, censoring, and disseminating knowledge about the Knanaya identity and ethnicity. Through church-sanctioned histories, diocesan structures, and catechetical materials, diverse local traditions, the Knanaya community vehemently participated in this cautious activity, which envisaged the creation of a consolidated and standardized narrative of Knanaya history. This was a quintessential process that the newly formed eparchies had to undertake to both distinguish Knanaya history from broader Thomas Christian traditions and align it closely with institutional Christian norms.

In the United States, the Knanaya community has taken remarkable steps to maintain its cohesion and cultural identity. Besides negotiating with local Christian bodies to establish their own distinct churches, they have actively fostered community participation through various organizations and missions. The Knanaya Catholics, who outnumber their Jacobite counterparts, have notably excelled in these efforts. The creation of Knanaya parishes has been pivotal in nurturing community bonds, as it provides opportunities for Knanaya children to enroll in catechism alongside their co-ethnoreligionists. Beyond the parishes, the community has further solidified its ties through voluntary organizations and mission institutions, such as the Vincent de Paul Society, the Legion of Mary, the Mission League, and various prayer groups. The Knanaya Catholic Youth League of North America, with local units in major cities across the continent, periodically organizes conventions in various North American cities. These events aim to foster community building and partnerships by hosting youth summits, sports events, and seminars specifically designed for Knanaya youth aged 18 to 34.

Mutholth’s article argues that these avenues for communal interaction and cultural education, made possible by the establishment of Knanaya parishes, have significantly enhanced awareness among the younger Knanaya generation. This has, in turn, contributed to an increase in endogamous marriages within the community. Mutholath’s (2020) estimate reveals that approximately 2294 Knanaya Catholic children are currently enrolled in religious education programs, guided by 361 dedicated Knanaya religious educators (Mutholath 2020, pp. 18–22). This compelling data serves as a testament to the community’s active involvement in preserving and promoting the Knanaya heritage and making avenues for sustaining endogamy.

In the digital era, the community-initiated methods to digitize the print materials and improve accessibility to these sources by making them available online. Towards collective stewardship in promoting Knanaya culture, online educational courses aimed at educating and enlightening the younger generations of the Knanaya community are sponsored and hosted with enthusiasm. The Knanaya Catholic community’s magazine, Apna Desh, along with the online educational course titled Vazhikoorayi, exemplifies the community’s efforts to preserve and promote the Knanaya identity. Importantly, the community has a unique matrimonial website called Chaitanya Matrimony, which is dedicated to facilitating marriage alliances among Knanaya community members worldwide. The Knanaya community has launched a dedicated webpage for the study and nourishment of Knanaya heritage managed by the Knanayology Foundation (Knanaya Global Foundation NFP), a non-profit organization registered in Illinois, USA. While the website is primarily managed by the Catholic faction of the Knanaya community, it also includes a specific section that addresses the status of the Knanaya Jacobites.

The religious leaders of the Knanaya community have consistently promoted endogamy among their members, regardless of denominational affiliations. Both the Catholic and Jacobite factions of the Knanaya community view endogamy as a central aspect of their identity and ethnicity. In 1997, Kuriakose Kunnacherry, the Bishop of Kottayam, put forth a compelling argument in favor of endogamy within the Knanaya community. He posited that this practice is not merely a tradition but the raison d’être that has preserved the unique identity of the Knanaya for over 1600 years, distinguishing them from both high caste Hindus and the ancient Thomas Christian community (Kunnacherry 1997, p. 54). The significance of endogamy in maintaining cultural and religious integrity cannot be overstated. It serves as a mechanism for ensuring that the practices, beliefs, and values specific to the Knanaya community are transmitted through generations, thereby fostering a strong sense of belonging and unity among its members. Kunnacherry’s insights are crucial for understanding how endogamy has functioned as a bulwark against the influences of assimilation and dilution that often threaten minority communities. Moreover, Fr. Abraham Mutholath’s reflections further complicate this discussion by highlighting the nuances of community membership. He clarifies on what it really means to be a Knanaya; he argues that individuals born to Knanaya parents may detach from community gatherings and practices, and while they can still be considered Knanaya by ethnicity, they are not part of the Knanaya ethnoreligious community (Mutholath 2020, p. 5). This perspective raises crucial questions about what it truly means to belong. Is ethnic identity through purity of blood sufficient for community membership, or must one actively engage in communal practices to be considered a part of the collective? Overall, these discussions about endogamy and community membership call for a critical examination of the dynamics of identity within the Knanaya community, as well as the implications of these practices for their future in an increasingly interconnected world. They invite us to reflect on the delicate balance between preserving unique cultural identities and embracing broader societal changes, especially in diasporic settings.

Such a claim to endogamy, however, is not immune to attacks from within the community and outside because of the high incidence of congenital diseases due to intermarriage within a small pool of members. Moreover, the claims of endogamy being an institution in practice to perpetuate genealogical purity have been challenged by the recent studies on Knanaya genomics conducted to trace West Asian genetic traits within the community. The study has not derived significant results on the dominance of West Asian genetic traits within the Knanaya community.

7. The Knanaya Dissenters

Despite the strong intervention of both religious and laypersons, as well as the threat of excommunication from the Knanaya community, exogamy among the Knanaya is not uncommon. While instances of exogamy have been previously discussed in diaspora contexts, they are also prevalent within domestic spaces where the Knanaya community predominantly resides. With the absence of a systematic statistical data outnumbering the current incidents of Knanaya intermarriage both in the domestic and diaspora settings, it is not possible to quantitatively measure the trajectory of Knanaya intermarriage across time. While newspapers often cover dedicated articles on such cases if they are reported or bloom into controversies, as with the case of Justin John and Vijimol that happened in 2023 (The New Indian Express 2023), neither the community nor the respective churches maintain a statistical record. One might argue that the limited pool of potential spouses contributes to the increase in exogamy among the Knanaya in the diaspora, alongside the scattered nature of the diasporic community. However, the situation in Kerala is different. With most of the Knanaya community living in proximity and interacting regularly, the youth remain closely connected. Nevertheless, the number of exogamous marriages among the Knanaya in Kerala is on the rise. Although intermarriages within the community are still rare, those who participate in them are no longer regarded as Knanaya.

Where do families of Knanaya who marry outside the Knanaya community fit in? Bishop Kunnacherry’s Pro Memmoria I addresses this situation by stating “bilateral understandings, realistic accommodations, and working arrangements” that has been developed and put to practice through “centuries long interaction” between Knanaya and non Knanaya communities. According to this “pastoral arrangement” as Bishop Kunnacherry describes it, demands the Knanaya partner to voluntarily give up their Knanaya identity and join a non-Knanaya parish of his or her domicile. Such an act of “free choice”, however requires the permission of the Knanaya epierchial curia. According to Bishop Kunnacherry, such a system is “not a motu proprio act of any authority to exclude or expel the Knanaya member from the Knanaya eparchy….(but)…a realistically feasible pastoral arrangement by which the unity of the newly born family is safeguarded socially and ecclesiastically”. What makes this “system” problematic is his later mention that such norms and formalities are “peacefully accepted by all concerned” within India and the diaspora, except a few in Chicago (Kunnacherry 1997, pp. 55–56).

This reflects the perspective of the Knanaya Catholics. What is the viewpoint of the Knanaya Jacobite? Does this pertain solely to non-Knanaya individuals who are part of the Thomas Christian community or any Christian community, or does it extend to non-Knanaya individuals regardless of their religion (such as Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Jewish, etc.)? It seems that this system is applicable only to non-Knanaya members within Christianity as marrying outside of the religion automatically strips off religious belonging and thus the Knanaya identity. What is interesting here is that the ethical identity of the community is religiously bound. The other actors—the clergy, both celibate clergymen from the Catholic fold as well as the mostly noncelibate clergy from the Jacobite faction continue to endorse and protect the rhetoric by initiating exclusions of the dissenters in both domestic and diasporic spaces.

Recent surveys and interviews, however, indicate a declining trend among diasporic communities in maintaining endogamy. Despite the small population of the Knanaya community, their resilience is noteworthy and deserves appreciation. One of the major themes that recurred in various papers presented during the Symposium held on the occasion of the Cetenary celebration of the Archepiarchy of Kottayam was the Knanaya case of endogamy and its challenges. Some speakers argue for the necessity of presenting endogamy to the younger generation as biblically, scientifically, and historically verifiable reasons, while others specifically call for immediate action. While the biblical and historical reasons align with earlier discussions, the so-called ‘scientific’ justification is largely an emotional response dressed in scientific language. The community’s response to the criticism regarding its relatively smaller gene pool as a potential cause for infertility and genetic disorders is disappointing. They outright dismiss claims of a higher rate of birth defects and disorders, which is largely due to the lack of scientific studies on the community (Mathai 2011, p. 532). Swiderski identifies the coexistence of ‘pain’ and ‘pride’ among the Knanaya members as they embrace endogamy—pain of perpetuating endogamy despite the challenges and limitations, and feeling proud of sustaining the community for yet another generation (Swiderski 1988a, p. 167). On a different note, this community resilience has the potential to promote endogamy in the future as well. Michael J. Rosenfeld believes that observing changes in the patterns of racial, educational, and religious endogamy in the United States serves as an effective educational tool providing valuable insights into the evolving significance of race, education, and religion in American life (Rosenfeld 2008, p. 1). While Rosenfeld’s (2008) study does not specifically provide data on Knanaya endogamy nor mention it specifically in the United States, his study reveals that “racial barriers are still, even after decades of decline, dramatically more powerful than any other kind of social barriers in the marriage market” (Rosenfeld 2008, p. 23).

8. Conclusions

Indeed, the migration narrative of the Knanaya community, whether referring to the ‘historicized’ legendary event from the 4th century or the documented migrations in Malabar and Western regions during the 20th century, are closely tied to the community’s emphasis on endogamy. While the migration story is contextualized to emphasize the Knanaya community’s exclusivity within the Thomas Christian community, the practice of endogamy is emphasized to legitimize the migration story. In other words, in a hypothetical situation, if the Knanaya community decides to relinquish the practice of endogamy at some point in the future, it would automatically disconnect them from their claims to Judeo-Christian heritage that they have safeguarded through the migration story across generations. Considering these, the socio-cultural milieu of Malabar from the beginning of the Common Era until the mid-20th century, it is clear that the Knanaya community was not the exclusive practitioner of endogamy, but a common practice that was prevalent among the various castes and communities of Malabar. Despite the evolving socio-cultural landscape that has blurred the boundaries of matrimonial relationships in Kerala, the Knanaya community has remained committed to preserving their longstanding traditions. While other Christian communities, including the non-Knanaya Thomas Christians, have relaxed their intermarriage rules, the Knanaya community has shown resilience by upholding their ideals. They continue to reinforce the migration theory, the narrative of two wives, and their Judeo-Christian connections. The efforts of the Knanaya clergy and laypersons to preserve the community’s unique identity through outreach initiatives, educational programs, and facilitating access to Knanaya resources for academic purposes, as well as inviting systematic studies into Knanaya culture and history, deserve commendation. However, the lack of scientific studies examining the impacts of centuries of Knanaya inbreeding is a matter that the community should either actively encourage or come to terms with. It is essential for the community to find ways to address the apprehension surrounding the acknowledgment of these findings, regardless of the outcomes, as this is the only viable approach to confronting the controversies regarding endogamy both internally and externally.

The case of endogamy among Knanaya Christians provides valuable insight into the conflicts between tradition and modernity, inclusion and exclusion, and the relationship between diaspora and homeland. Utilizing the sociology of religion, diaspora theory, and recent ethnographic observations, this article analyzed how community institutions, lay members, and younger generations navigate the tensions between cultural continuity and integration into diverse societies. While endogamy remains central to Knanaya identity, its strict enforcement is increasingly questioned. The community’s future may hinge on its ability to address these challenges with theological awareness, sociological insight, and pastoral care. Understanding these dynamics enriches the broader conversation about the persistence and transformation of ethnoreligious boundaries in an increasingly interconnected world. The Knanaya community’s insistence on endogamy as a prerequisite for membership represents a rare instance of an ethnicized religious identity that resists integrationist tendencies. As such, it offers a compelling case study in how diasporic, caste-like Christian identities navigate the dialectic between tradition and modernity, communal preservation and institutional adaptation.