India, June 20 -- "There is no caste in Islam." Anthropologist PC Saidalavi frequently received this response to his enquiries about hierarchies among Muslims in the Malabar region of Kerala. Indeed, egalitarianism is a core tenet of the religion. The idea that all humans are equal in God's eyes distinguishes Islam from earlier belief systems in Arabian society. And yet, casteism is rife among Muslims in South Asia. Saidalavi mentions multiple such instances from Malabar. As recently as 2019, an Islamic scholar compared barbers (lower in the caste hierarchy) to children from adulterous relationships, claiming that both were ineligible to lead prayers, even though his stance had no religious basis. Earlier, barbers were not allowed to wear footwear or dress well. They largely received payment in kind, making them dependent on their dominant-caste patrons. So, why did many barbers still tell Saidalavi that caste was not part of Islam? He explores this dichotomy, among other facets of Islam and caste, in his book Seeking Allah's Hierarchy: Caste, Labor, and Islam in India. Like many of his interlocutors, the author had never thought about caste as "even a remote possibility for social organisation among Muslims in India". He began to explore the subject after his PhD supervisor suggested it. It finally hit home when he wanted to marry, and his mother peremptorily rejected a potential match due to concerns about her caste. Saidalavi's study leads him to conclude that equating social stratification among Muslims with the Hindu caste system is an oversimplification. As he puts it, while caste is a system of hierarchical inequality based on birth, how it operates across communities and economic, political, social and cultural contexts is unique. Factors such as piety, wealth, lineages traceable to more than three or four generations, and antassu (dignity) also shape social relations among Muslims in Malabar. In recent decades, Muslims on society's lower rungs have invoked these values in their efforts to upend hierarchies. To bolster his arguments, the author explores how different social scientists construe concepts such as caste, values and dignity; different origin myths about the arrival of Islam in Kerala; and how barbers reshaped economic and social norms. In the 1970s, barbers began unionising and set up shops, putting the onus on customers to visit them rather than the other way round. They sought to replace the patronage system with payment, and discontinue tasks considered demeaning, such as shaving body hair. This ushered in radical changes, which Saidalavi illustrates with an anecdote from the Covid-19 pandemic. As barbershops shut in the lockdown, customers started visiting barbers' homes. This marked a 180-degree shift from the earlier system, in which barbers visited patrons' homes, and would have been unthinkable a few decades ago. The book's exploration of stratification among Muslims in Malabar and how it differs from the caste system is succinct and compelling. However, while this distinction helps theorise hierarchy, it could be counterproductive in other contexts. Many Muslims deny the existence of prejudice and discrimination against those considered inferior while paying lip service to the Islamic ideal of equality. Although the underlying values and rationale might be different, Islamic society has replicated the Hindu caste system's foundational pillars: endogamy and discrimination. Whether the motivation is perceived purity (as in the Hindu caste system) or piety, it ascribes value to a human being based on qualities largely inherent at birth and immutable. Even when a barber acquires the utmost religiosity, some would not marry him solely because of the community he was born into. The book's most interesting sections explore people's attempts to rise above their social station through marriage. Hakeem, a well-to-do member of the barber community, wanted to marry a Mappila woman. He repeatedly failed to find a match, but refused to wed within his social station or marry a recent convert to Islam. Thus, even in his attempt to transcend his caste background, he found his choices defined by it. A long-standing critique of ethnographic studies is that they involve members of dominant communities documenting marginalised communities. This mode of knowledge production can reinforce the very power differentials such studies might have sought to examine. Saidalavi mentions his dominant-caste position in the book, but it would have been interesting to learn more about how he negotiated these power hierarchies. Many academics from marginalised castes have pointed out that studies on casteism usually focus on the oppressed. While the author explores how those at the top of the pyramid shape and enforce caste hierarchies, most of his interviewees are from the barber community. It thus follows a pattern of research that draws on insight from marginalised castes rather than dominant ones. In the preface, the author acknowledges his identity as "a Muslim, a Mappila, a male, and a researcher" and that it had a "direct bearing" on his fieldwork. It would have been insightful if he had elaborated on how his positionality impacted his research. This absence, however, does not take away from Saidalavi's scholarship. Seeking Allah's Hierarchy is an illuminating exploration of the social dynamics among Muslims in Malabar. It advances our understanding of the interplay between a religion that espouses egalitarianism and a deeply hierarchical society....