My Seditious Heart

by Arundhati Roy

  Angered by Ambedkar’s display of independence, the communists denounced him as an “opportunist” and an “imperial stooge.” In his book History of the Indian Freedom Struggle, E. M. S. Namboodiripad, the (Brahmin) former chief minister of Kerala and head of the first ever democratically elected communist government in the world, wrote about the conflict between Ambedkar and the left: “However, this was a great blow to the freedom movement. For this led to the diversion of the people’s attention from the objective of full independence to the mundane cause of uplift of Harijans [Untouchables].”220

  The rift has not mended and has harmed both sides mortally. For a brief period in the 1970s, the Dalit Panthers in Maharashtra tried to bridge the gap. They were the progeny of Ambedkar the radical (as opposed to Ambedkar the writer of the constitution). They gave the Marathi word “Dalit”—oppressed, broken—an all-India currency, and used it to refer not just to Untouchable communities, but to “the working people, the landless and poor peasants, women and all those who are being exploited politically and economically and in the name of religion.”221 This was a phenomenal and politically confident act of solidarity on their part. They saw Dalits as a Nation of the Oppressed. They identified their friends as “revolutionary parties set to break down the caste system and class rule” and “left parties that are left in the true sense”; and their enemies as “landlords, capitalists, moneylenders and their lackeys.” Their manifesto, essential reading for students of radical politics, fused the thinking of Ambedkar, Phule, and Marx. The founders of the Dalit Panthers—Namdeo Dhasal, Arun Kamble, and Raja Dhale—were writers and poets, and their work created a renaissance in Marathi literature.

  It could have been the beginning of the revolution that India needed and is still waiting for, but the Dalit Panthers swiftly lost their bearings and disintegrated.

  The caste–class question is not an easy one for political parties to address. The Communist Party’s theoretical obtuseness to caste has lost it what ought to have been its natural constituency. The Communist Party of India and its offshoot, the Communist Party of India (Marxist), have more or less become bourgeois parties enmeshed in parliamentary politics. Those that split away from them in the late 1960s and independent Marxist-Leninist parties in other states (collectively known as the “Naxalites,” named after the first uprising in the village of Naxalbari in West Bengal) have tried to address the issue of caste and to make common cause with Dalits, but with little success. The few efforts they made to seize land from big zamindars and redistribute it to laborers failed because they did not have the mass support or the military firepower to see it through. Their sidelong nod to caste as opposed to a direct engagement with it has meant that even radical communist parties have lost the support of what could have been a truly militant and revolutionary constituency.

  Dalits have been fragmented and pitted against each other. Many have had to move either into mainstream parliamentary politics or—with the public sector being hollowed out, and job opportunities in the private sector being denied to them—into the world of NGOs, with grants from the European Union, the Ford Foundation, and other funding agencies with a long, self-serving history of defusing radical movements and harnessing them to “market forces.”222 There is no doubt that this funding has given a few Dalits an opportunity to be educated in what are thought to be the world’s best universities. (This, after all, is what made Ambedkar the man he was.) However, even here, the Dalits’ share in the massive NGO money-pie is minuscule. And within these institutions (some of which are generously funded by big corporations to work on issues of caste discrimination,223 like Gandhi was), Dalits can be treated in unfair and ugly ways.

  In his search for primitive communism, S. A. Dange would have been better advised to look toward indigenous Adivasi communities rather than toward the ancient Vedic Brahmins and their yagnyas. Gandhi too could have done the same. If anybody was even remotely living out his ideal of frugal village life, of stepping lightly on the earth, it was not the Vedic Hindus, it was the Adivasis. For them, however, Gandhi showed the same level of disdain that he did for Black Africans. Speaking in 1896 at a public meeting in Bombay, he said: “The Santhals of Assam will be as useless in South Africa as the natives of that country.”224

  On the Adivasi question, Ambedkar too stumbles. So quick to react to slights against his own people, Ambedkar, in a passage in Annihilation of Caste, echoes the thinking of colonial missionaries and liberal ideologues and adds his own touch of Brahminism:

  Thirteen million people living in the midst of civilisation are still in a savage state, and are leading the life of hereditary criminals…. The Hindus will probably seek to account for this savage state of the aborigines by attributing to them congenital stupidity. They will probably not admit that the aborigines have remained savages because they made no effort to civilise them, to give them medical aid, to reform them, to make them good citizens…. Civilising the aborigines means adopting them as your own, living in their midst, and cultivating fellow-feeling—in short, loving them …

  The Hindu has not realised that these aborigines are a source of potential danger. If these savages remain savages, they may not do any harm to the Hindus. But if they are reclaimed by non-Hindus and converted to their faiths, they will swell the ranks of the enemies of the Hindus.225

  Today, Adivasis are the barricade against the pitiless march of modern capitalism. Their very existence poses the most radical questions about modernity and “progress”—the ideas that Ambedkar embraced as one of the ways out of the caste system. Unfortunately, by viewing the Adivasi community through the lens of Western liberalism, Ambedkar’s writing, which is otherwise so relevant in today’s context, suddenly becomes dated.

  Ambedkar’s opinions about Adivasis betrayed a lack of information and understanding. First of all, Hindu evangelists like the Hindu Mahasabha had been working to “assimilate” the Adivasis since the 1920s (just like they were Balmiki-izing castes that were forced into cleaning and scavenging work). Tribes like the Ho, the Oraon, the Kols, the Santhals, the Mundas, and the Gonds did not wish to be “civilized” or “assimilated.” They had rebelled time and again against the British as well as against zamindars and Bania moneylenders and had fought fiercely to protect their land, culture, and heritage. Thousands had been killed in these uprisings, but unlike the rest of India, they were never conquered. They still have not been. Today, they are the armed, militant end of a spectrum of struggles. They are waging nothing short of a civil war against the Indian state, which has signed over Adivasi homelands to infrastructure and mining corporations. They are the backbone of the decades-long struggle against Big Dams in the Narmada valley. They make up the ranks of the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army of the Communist Party of India (Maoist) that is fighting tens of thousands of paramilitary forces that have been deployed by the government in the forests of Central India.

  In a 1945 address in Bombay (“The Communal Deadlock and a Way to Solve It”), discussing the issue of proportionate representation, Ambedkar brought up the issue of Adivasi rights once again. He said:

  My proposals do not cover the Aboriginal Tribes although they are larger in number than the Sikhs, Anglo-Indians, Indian Christians and Parsis…. The Aboriginal Tribes have not as yet developed any political sense to make the best use of their political opportunities and they may easily become mere instruments in the hands either of a majority or a minority and thereby disturb the balance without doing any good to themselves.226

  This unfortunate way of describing a community was sometimes aimed at non-Adivasis, too, in an equally troubling manner. At one point in Annihilation of Caste Ambedkar resorts to using the language of eugenics, a subject that was popular with European fascists: “Physically speaking the Hindus are a C3 people. They are a race of pygmies and dwarfs, stunted in stature and wanting in stamina.”227

  His views on Adivasis had serious consequences. In 1950, the Indian Constitution made the state the custodian of
Adivasi homelands, thereby ratifying British colonial policy. The Adivasi population became squatters on their own land. By denying them their traditional rights to forest produce, it criminalized a whole way of life. It gave them the right to vote, but snatched away their livelihood and dignity.228

  How different are Ambedkar’s words on Adivasis from Gandhi’s words on Untouchables when he said:

  Muslims and Sikhs are all well organised. The “Untouchables” are not. There is very little political consciousness among them, and they are so horribly treated that I want to save them against themselves. If they had separate electorates, their lives would be miserable in villages which are the strongholds of Hindu orthodoxy. It is the superior class of Hindus who have to do penance for having neglected the “Untouchables” for ages. That penance can be done by active social reform and by making the lot of the “Untouchables” more bearable by acts of service, but not by asking for separate electorates for them.229

  Gandhi said this at the Second Round Table Conference in London in 1931. It was the first public face-to-face encounter between Ambedkar and Gandhi.

  THE CONFRONTATION

  The Congress had boycotted the First Round Table Conference in 1930 but nominated Gandhi as its representative in the second. The aim of the conference was to frame a new constitution for self-rule. The princely states and representatives of various minority communities—Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Parsis, and Untouchables—were present. Adivasis went unrepresented. For Untouchables, it was a historic occasion. It was the first time that they had been invited as a separately represented constituency. One of the several committees that made up the conference was the Minority Committee, charged with the task of finding a workable solution to the growing communal question. It was potentially the most inflammable and, perhaps for that reason, was chaired by the British prime minister, Ramsay MacDonald.

  It was to this committee that Ambedkar submitted his memorandum, “A Scheme of Political Safeguards for the Protection of the Depressed Classes in the Future Constitution of a Self-Governing India.” It was, for its time, within the framework of liberal debates on rights and citizenship, a revolutionary document. In it, Ambedkar tried to do in law what he dreamt of achieving socially and politically. This document was an early draft of some of the ideas that Ambedkar eventually managed to put into the constitution of post-1947 India.

  Under “Condition No. 1: Equal Citizenship,” it says:

  The Depressed Classes cannot consent to subject themselves to majority rule in their present state of hereditary bondsmen. Before majority rule is established, their emancipation from the system of untouchability must be an accomplished fact. It must not be left to the will of the majority. The Depressed Classes must be made free citizens entitled to all the rights of citizenship in common with other citizens of the State.230

  The memorandum went on to delineate what would constitute Fundamental Rights and how they were to be protected. It gave Untouchables the right to access all public places. It dwelt at length on social boycotts and suggested they be declared a criminal offense. It prescribed a series of measures by which Untouchables would be protected from social boycotts and caste Hindus punished for instigating and promoting them. Condition No. 5 asked that a Public Service Commission be set up to ensure Untouchables “Adequate Representation in the Services.” This is what has eventually evolved into the system of reservation in educational institutions and government jobs, against which privileged castes in recent times have militantly agitated.231

  The most unique aspect of Ambedkar’s memorandum was his proposal for a system of positive discrimination within the electoral system. Ambedkar did not believe that universal adult franchise alone could secure equal rights for Untouchables. Since the Untouchable population was scattered across the country in little settlements on the outskirts of Hindu villages, Ambedkar realized that within the geographical demarcation of a political constituency, they would always be a minority and would never be in a position to elect a candidate of their own choice. He suggested that Untouchables, who had been despised and devalued for so many centuries, be given a separate electorate so that they could, without interference from the Hindu orthodoxy, develop into a political constituency with a leadership of its own. In addition to this, and in order that they retain their connection with mainstream politics, he suggested that they be given the right to vote for general candidates, too. Both the separate electorate and the double vote were to last for a period of only ten years. Though the details were not agreed upon, when the conference concluded, all the delegates unanimously agreed that the Untouchables should, like the other minorities, have a separate electorate.232

  While the First Round Table Conference was in session in London, India was in turmoil. In January 1930, the Congress had declared its demand for Poorna Swaraj—complete independence. Gandhi showcased his genius as a political organizer and launched his most imaginative political action yet—the Salt Satyagraha. He called on Indians to march to the sea and break the British salt tax laws. Hundreds of thousands of Indians rallied to his call. Jails filled to overflowing. Ninety thousand people were arrested. Between salt and water, between the Touchables’ satyagraha and the Untouchables’ “duragraha” lay a sharply divided universe—of politics, of philosophy, and of morality.

  At its Karachi Session in March 1931, the Congress passed a Resolution of Fundamental Rights for a free India.233 It was a valuable, enlightened document, and it included some of the rights Ambedkar had been campaigning for. It laid the foundation for a modern, secular, and largely socialist state. The rights included the freedoms of speech, press, assembly and association, equality before law, universal adult franchise, free and compulsory primary education, a guaranteed living wage for every citizen, and limited hours of work. It underlined the protection of women and peasants and state ownership or control of key industries, mines, and transport. Most important, it created a firewall between religion and the state.

  Notwithstanding the admirable principles of the Resolution of Fundamental Rights that had been passed, the view from the bottom was slightly different. The 1930 elections to the provincial legislatures coincided with the Salt Satyagraha. The Congress had boycotted the elections. In order to embarrass “respectable” Hindus who did not heed the boycott and stood as independent candidates, the Congress fielded mock candidates who were Untouchables—two cobblers, a barber, a milkman, and a sweeper. The idea was that no self-respecting, privileged-caste Hindu would want to be part of an institution where he or she was put on a par with Untouchables.234 Putting up Untouchables as mock candidates was a Congress Party tactic that had begun with the 1920 elections and went on right up to 1943. Ambedkar says:

  What were the means adopted by the Congress to prevent Hindus from standing on an independent ticket? The means were to make the legislatures objects of contempt. Accordingly, the Congress, in various provinces, started processions carrying placards saying, “Who will go to the Legislatures? Only barbers, cobblers, potters and sweepers.” In the processions, one man would utter the question as part of the slogan and the whole crowd would repeat as answer the second part of the slogan.235

  At the Round Table Conference, Gandhi and Ambedkar clashed, both claiming that they were the real representatives of the Untouchables. The conference went on for weeks. Gandhi eventually agreed to separate electorates for Muslims and Sikhs but would not countenance Ambedkar’s argument for a separate electorate for Untouchables. He resorted to his usual rhetoric: “I would far rather that Hinduism died than that Untouchability lived.”236

  Gandhi refused to acknowledge that Ambedkar had the right to represent Untouchables. Ambedkar would not back down, either. Nor was there a call for him to. Untouchable groups from across India, including Mangoo Ram of the Ad Dharm movement, sent telegrams in support of Ambedkar. Eventually Gandhi said, “Those who speak of the political rights of Untouchables do not know their India, do not know how Indian society is today constructed, and the
refore I want to say with all the emphasis that I can command that if I was the only person to resist this thing I would resist it with my life.”237 Having delivered his threat, Gandhi took the boat back to India. On the way, he dropped in on Mussolini in Rome and was extremely impressed by him and his “care of the poor, his opposition to super-urbanisation, his efforts to bring about co-ordination between capital and labour.”238

  A year later, Ramsay MacDonald announced the British government’s decision on the Communal Question. It awarded the Untouchables a separate electorate for a period of twenty years. At the time, Gandhi was serving a sentence in Yerawada Central Jail in Poona. From prison, he announced that unless the provision of separate electorates for Untouchables was revoked, he would fast to death.

  He waited for a month. When he did not get his way, Gandhi began his fast from prison. This fast was completely against his own maxims of satyagraha. It was barefaced blackmail, nothing less manipulative than the threat of committing public suicide. The British government said it would revoke the provision only if the Untouchables agreed. The country spun like a top. Public statements were issued, petitions signed, prayers offered, meetings held, appeals made. It was a preposterous situation: privileged-caste Hindus, who segregated themselves from Untouchables in every possible way; who deemed them unworthy of human association; who shunned their very touch; who wanted separate food, water, schools, roads, temples and wells; now said that India would be balkanized if Untouchables had a separate electorate. And Gandhi, who believed so fervently and so vocally in the system that upheld that separation, was starving himself to death to deny Untouchables a separate electorate.