The Political Legacy of EVR Periyar

Archival Note

Published in Dalit Voice (Vol. 24, Issue No. 5, 1 March 2005), this essay by Rajendra of Ambedkar Pratishthana defends Periyar E.V. Ramaswamy against attempts to portray him as anti-Dalit. The essay recalls Periyar’s role in the anti-caste struggle, his break with the Congress and his relationship with Dr. B.R. Ambedkar. It asks the present generation to remember Periyar alongside Phule, Ambedkar and Shyam Sunder as part of the history of the anti-caste struggle.

The essay places particular emphasis on Periyar’s relationship with Ambedkar. It recalls Periyar’s efforts to bring Ambedkar into the Jat-Pat-Todak Mandal conference and the mutual respect between the two leaders. For Rajendra, Periyar’s importance lies in a politics of self-respect that directly challenged Brahminical social authority. He also presents Periyar within a wider Bahujan politics, arguing that Dalits and Backward Castes have a shared stake in fighting Brahminism. This makes the essay an important record of a political tradition that saw Ambedkar and Periyar as connected figures in the anti-caste movement rather than as representatives of opposing camps.

Published in September, the month of Periyar’s birth anniversary, the essay speaks to a contemporary tendency to divide anti-caste politics between Ambedkarite and Periyarist traditions, particularly in Tamil Nadu. That division can obscure the historical connections between the two movements and the different ways in which they confronted caste. Periyar’s emphasis on self-respect remains important because it locates caste oppression in the social relations and cultural authority that make hierarchy appear natural. His work also shows why anti-caste politics must challenge the ideas and institutions through which caste reproduces itself, alongside the struggle for political and legal rights. Revisiting Periyar through this history helps recover a broader anti-caste tradition in which his contribution and Ambedkar’s can be understood together without treating them as interchangeable.

 

Periyar E.V.R. As Champion Of Dalits

Periyar E.V. Ramaswamy is a leader of international repute and is hailed as a great thinker, reformer, revolutionary and humanist. The United Nations itself recognised this during his lifetime.

So any discussion on his sterling qualities and services to the oppressed people, victims of Brahminism, is ridiculous. Some Dalits under Brahminical influence have lately started branding Periyar as anti-Dalit. They should not be ungrateful to the extent of falsifying history itself. Dr. Ambedkar wanted his children to be sincere and truthful.

The present generation should know the history of their progress and the services and sacrifices of elders like Phule, Periyar, Babasaheb and Shyam Sunder.

Vaikom struggle: Periyar’s self-respect movement began in an aggressive way at Vaikom, in the present Kerala. It was on behalf of the Untouchable castes who were not allowed even to walk on a street right before a temple. Periyar rushed there and fought on their behalf.

This historic agitation led by Periyar attracted Muslim leader E.V.K. Abdulla and Christian leader Gorge Joseph. Gandhi, as a true Hindu, criticized Periyar for supporting the Untouchables. Sikhs came from Punjab and ran the free kitchen (langar). This will establish the truth of Periyar’s universal leadership.

Periyar was then arrested by the Trivancore state police and kept in prison for this agitation. Yet the agitation continued. Finally, the Untouchables won the right to walk on the road. This may not be a material gain, but a self-respect achievement for Untouchables. The agitation became famous as “Vaikom struggle”. Dr. Ambedkar wrote an Editorial about this historic achievement in his journal, Mooka Nayak.

Declaration to destroy Congress: The Congress, the original Brahmin party of India, passed a resolution in 1917 showing its concern for the welfare of Untouchables. M.K. Gandhi, the dictator of the Congress, claimed credit for this action of the Brahmin party. But the truth is Gandhi came to know about the British giving recognition to Untouchables and providing political rights based on the census of 1911, for which Prince Agha Khan was responsible.

From that day onwards, Congress started discussing social reforms in its sessions. But even such discussions were stopped when the Brahmins set fire to the Congress session pandal in Maharashtra. At the Madras session of the Congress, Periyar Ramaswamy, who was then an active worker of the Congress, forced a discussion on social problems, mainly Untouchability.

Rowdies engaged by Brahmins then dragged Periyar out of the pandal and thrashed him. Periyar declared on the spot that he would destroy the Congress in Tamil Nadu and he did it. The Congress is wiped out in Tamil Nadu.

Dr. Ambedkar respected Periyar: Dr. Ambedkar had great respect for Periyar and Periyar had respect for Dr. Ambedkar. It was Periyar who advised the organizers of Jat-Pat-Todak Mandal of Lahore, when they invited him to the conference, to invite Dr. Ambedkar, being a better person, well read, better informed and able to speak English.

Jat-Pat-Todak Mandal approached Dr. Ambedkar, who agreed and prepared a speech for the conference. But Gandhi planned his usual trick, which resulted in Dr. Ambedkar cancelling his engagement.

Later, Dr. Ambedkar got his speech published as a book, titled Annihilation of Caste.

Three greatest personalities: Some Dalit leaders are critical of Periyar just because he belonged to a Backward Caste. They also quote and misquote Dr. Ambedkar on the subject. They know only the title of this book. But they do not know the history behind this book.

Dr. Ambedkar always made it a point to meet Periyar when he visited Madras. One such visit was when Jinnah attended the Muslim League meeting at Madras. On this occasion, all the three greatest personalities of the day, Dr. Ambedkar, Jinnah and Periyar, met and discussed the Indian caste problem. A photo with these three taken during that meeting of the great statesmen is in my possession. Another important photo with me is of Periyar with the great Bheem Sena leader Shyam Sunder.

Birthday celebration in UP: Kanshi Ram is another great revolutionary of India. He organised the Bahujan Samaj Party which came to power in UP and celebrated Periyar’s birth anniversary.

Kanshi Ram knows who is who among the Bahujans. If Periyar had been anti-Dalit, as made out by some Dalits in Tamil Nadu, would India’s topmost Dalit leader praise Periyar? Similarly, our Editor has assigned the No.2 place to Periyar among the three greatest revolutionaries of “independent” India.

With all these facts, why do some Dalits call Periyar anti-Dalit? The mistake is not of Dalits but of the Backward Castes. It is easy to call it Brahminism.

The pity is the Backward Castes are the agents and foot-soldiers of Brahmins.

They ill-treated Dalits all over India, including Tamil Nadu, pushing Dalits to Islam at Meenakshi Puram 25 years ago. The BCs must mend their attitude towards Dalits, Muslims and Christians.

Dalits are duty bound to lead the entire Bahujan Samaj. That can be fulfilled only when BCs, at least the Most Backward Castes (MBC) like the barber, dhobi, potter, blacksmith etc., understand the importance of building Bahujan Samaj. Muslims and Christians also are distancing themselves from BCs. As an Ambedkarite, I call upon the BCs to join Dalits to fight Brahminism.

Periyar spent his whole life in this work for over half a century.

Why India Has No Second Ambedkar

Archival Note

Published in Dalit Voice (Vol. 1, Issue No. 17, 16 June 1982), this essay asks why India has failed to produce intellectuals who can challenge the ruling order rather than serve it. Rajshekar treats intellectual life as a political question, arguing that knowledge has little value when those who possess it refuse to confront power.

The essay places this argument alongside Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s critique of the Brahminical character of India’s intellectual class. Rajshekar argues that when the intellectual class is tied to caste interests, it becomes an obstacle to the destruction of caste. He also attacks the pressures that push intellectuals towards careers, awards, money and proximity to power, while dissenters are branded as dangerous or “controversial”.

The essay then asks why India did not produce another Ambedkar after independence. Rajshekar connects this to the loss of the limited space he believed Ambedkar had found under British rule, arguing that Dalits and other oppressed communities were left without protection from the ruling order after independence. The essay’s central question is therefore about the political purpose of intellectual life: what happens to a society when those capable of challenging its dominant ideas choose accommodation instead?

 

The Role of Intellectuals in Society

Every society, every country in the world is shaped and led mainly by its intellectuals. All those who are remembered by history are mostly intellectuals. An intellectual may not get instant recognition by society when alive, but in course of time the person’s greatness will be recognised and recorded on the pages of history. Because an intellectual and intellectual alone can help bring about socio-economic changes.

The Buddha, Plato, Marx, Rousseau, Lenin, Abraham Lincoln, Maxim Gorky, Bernard Shaw, Mao, Thiruvallavar, Mahatma Phule were all great intellectuals. It is intellectuals who not only think but make others think.

After Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, M. N. Roy, Periyar E. V. Ramaswamy and Ram Manohar Lohia, we have hardly produced any intellectual giants in India. India’s Ruling Class has been systematically corrupting any up-and-coming intellectual, and if anyone dares to defy, he is mercilessly crushed. That is why rarely one wants to show originality, innovation. So much so, India has gone into total intellectual bankruptcy.

The very fact that India has not received a single Nobel Prize after it became independent proves that we are a country of mediocre dwarfs. But we are never tired of boasting that we have the second largest scientific manpower in the whole world. If so, what are they doing? Why not a single one has made an international mark?

The one agricultural scientist who received the Magsaysay Award was later found to have got it after making a false claim. But even this man has now taken up a cushy job outside India. This is the disease with our intellectuals. One social scientist, considered very distinguished, is seldom in India and even when at home never rubs the ruling class lest it may upset his lucrative income. Scientists like Khurana have settled down in the USA.

All this is because our society and our value system do not believe in encouraging and promoting intellectuals. India’s Ruling Class wants to make its people surrender their judgement to it. Every intellectual is a suspect. It looks upon him as a source of trouble.

Some of the finest budding, blooming flowers of our society were shot dead, dubbing them as Naxalites. Any person who does not fall in line and conform to the established thinking is considered a threat to society. Dissent is disliked, nay, dangerous. Truth should not be spoken. And those who speak the truth will be branded as “controversial” persons.

Any number of organisations, both govt. and non-govt., are set up to watch and weed out such “dangerous” persons. Innumerable State and private awards are instituted to win over any brilliant writer, scholar, to pocket if not corrupt him.

Courage is an essential prerequisite to become an intellectual. He has to suffer and sacrifice, pay for his commitment. That is why intellectuals and intellectuals alone can lead a society or a movement. An intellectual can lead as well as mislead. But in India, very often our intellectuals have been only misleading the society.

Nobody has painted such an Indian situation better than Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, and things have hardly changed since he wrote it:

“Whether you accept the theory of the great man as the maker of history or whether you do not, this much you will have to concede that in every country the intellectual class is the most influential class, if not the governing class. The intellectual class is the class which can foresee, it is the class which can advise and give lead. In no country does the mass of the people live the life of intelligent thought and action. It is largely imitative and follows the intellectual class.

There is no exaggeration in saying that the entire destiny of a country depends upon its Intellectual class. If the intellectual class is honest, independent and disinterested, it can be trusted to take the initiative and give a proper lead when a crisis arises.

It is true that intellect by itself is no virtue. It is only a means, and the use of means depends upon the ends which an intellectual person pursues. An intellectual man can be a good man but he can easily be a rogue. Similarly, an intellectual class may be a band of high-souled persons, ready to help, ready to emancipate erring humanity, or it may easily be a gang of crooks or a body of advocates of a narrow clique from which it draws its support.

You may think it a pity that the intellectual class in India is simply another name for the Brahmin caste. You may regret that the two are one, that the existence of the intellectual class should be bound with one single caste, that this intellectual class should share the interest & the aspirations of that Brahmin caste, which has regarded itself the custodian of interest of that caste, rather than of the interests of the country.

All this may be very regrettable. But the fact remains that the Brahmins form the intellectual class of the Hindus. It is not only an intellectual class but it is a class which is held in great reverence by the rest of the Hindus. The Hindus are taught that the Brahmins are Bhudevas (gods on earth). The Hindus are taught that Brahmins alone can be their teacher. Varnaram Brahmano Guru. Manu says, “If it be asked how it should be with respect to points of the Dharma which have not been specially mentioned, the answer is that which Brahmins who are Shishthas propound shall doubtless have legal force.”

When such an intellectual class, which holds the rest of the community in its grip, is opposed to the reform of Caste, the chances of success in a movement for break-up of the Caste System appear to me very, very remote.”

A film actor like Amitabh Bachchan or actress like Hema Malini may have millions of fans, but the glamour is temporary. The moment the youth fades, the star sinks. A cricketer or sportsman is adored till his capacity lasts. A wrestler, boxer or a King Kong will be feared until his body strength stays.

A politician like Indira Gandhi or Reagan is adored until the person is in power. Remember, people used to avoid Indira Gandhi like plague when she was defeated by the Janata. Those with money come and go. No Tata or Birla is remembered by history. A beauty queen is glorified till her skin fades.

There is nothing permanent with stars, sportsmen, body-builders, political personalities or wealthy tycoons. But that is not the case with an intellectual. He is respected not only in his lifetime but even after that.

Kalidasa was simply a poet under King Vikramaditya, but the king’s name has faded, but not that of Kalidasa, India’s greatest Sanskrit writer. Sometimes an intellectual is respected and recognised more after his death. Karl Marx’s name will be there as long as history is there. So too Plato, Jesus Christ, Mohamed Paigambar, Lenin, Mao, Martin Luther King.

Progress of any country depends only on its intellectuals. They alone can lead, but in India, alas, our intellectuals have been only misleading the society because they have been impotent and corrupt. That is why they compromise.

Look at the courage of J. B. S. Haldane. He subjected himself to great physical pain by himself becoming a guinea pig of his experiments. Have we produced a scientist of his calibre?

Our scientists are spending their time not in laboratories but in air-conditioned offices, busy pushing files. Intellectuals of India have not given evidence of their courage, their independence of thought and conviction, which are the indices to judge an intellectual.

They are not courageous, because they are so preoccupied with selfish interests. That is why they migrate to foreign countries in search of cushy jobs. Prime Minister Indira Gandhi on June 3 is reported to have expressed concern over “brain drain of scientific talent.” But this is not the first time she and other top leaders are expressing such a concern.

What is the use of a brain that allows itself to be drained? Better not have such brains. What we want is brains with hearts, and such brains will rarely allow itself to be drained. Heartless brains are more dangerous than brainless hearts. Therefore, let the heartless brains go. India will in no way become poorer.

A true intellectual will not sell himself. He can never be bought. He can never seek power and ambition. He will speak the truth, come what may, even at the cost of his life.

The evil has triumphed in India and the country is drifting because our intellectuals do not speak up. So much so, the country has grown sick and its sickness is affecting the outside world as well. But our intellectuals are unperturbed. To them, their caste and cash is more important than the eternal pursuit of truth.

What is the use of learning and knowledge when it does not bring cash or power? Popularity does not depend upon one’s ability but other factors. “Success in life” depends not on learning but on bank balance. In such a society, what use is learning or intellectual pursuits?

Intellectuals are laughed at, despised. Why should we strain the brain when money can be made without it? This is India today.

If our intellectuals are corrupt and spineless, the masses are dumb, deaf and blind because of poverty and illiteracy. The latter are illiterate because they are poor. When they are preoccupied all the time in an endless battle of the belly, where is the time for them to think, even if thinking is possible?

If this is the position of the poorest, what about the educated, employed people who come from this very same revolutionary section, Dalits and other persecuted minorities? The tragedy with this section is they have become easy-going, pleasure-seeking. Not only that. A considerable number of them, particularly the educated Untouchables, hide their identity and turn into bumlickers.

Yes, there are a tiny section of conscientious people among them who are angry. Who wants to rebel?

“The world owes much to rebels who would dare to argue in the face of the pontiff and insist that he is not infallible. I don’t care for the credit which every progressive society must give to its rebels.” (Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, preface to second edition of Annihilation of Caste.)

Ambedkar, however, lived up to the definition of a rebel, an intellectual giant. But such of the rebels are spotted out and finished at the very initial stage. Those who have managed to escape and build up their leadership are recruited by the ever-watchful political parties.

So there is an all-round famine. No ruling class will produce a revolutionary. On the other hand, the revolutionary section is starved to submission by the ruling class.

This answers the oft-repeated question: “Why India has not produced a second Ambedkar?”

Babasaheb lived a major part of his life when India was under the British, who were benevolent rulers. Not only they gave us education, denied to us by Brahmins, but even gave us modern, Western knowledge.

Not only that. If there was any “freedom struggle” and some leaders like Gandhi and Nehru were able to fight the British, it was because of the knowledge they gained from the very British education and the encouragement they gave to fight for liberty and fraternity.

But for the British rule, which in fact meant a Christian rule, India would not have been what it is today. So Ambedkar, despite his open criticism of the British Government, got all the encouragement from the British.

Nobody criticised the British right on their face as Ambedkar did. They gave him all the facilities and also protected him against his enemies. They gave all-out encouragement and built up his leadership.

Once the British were out, Dalits & the persecuted minorities of India had none to protect them. They were virtually thrown to wolves. The independence that India got on Aug. 15, 1947 was the independence given to the high castes to exploit, which they could not do earlier so freely.

The lambs are bound and bundled and handed to wolves on a silver platter. That is the reason why after independence India did not get a second Ambedkar.

No honest, dedicated leadership is tolerated by these ever-watchful headhunters. This is the heinous role played by India’s intellectual class.

Politics of Subcategories in Oppressed Communities

Archival Note

Published in Dalit Voice (Vol. 17, Issue No. 11, 16 April 1998), this essay enters debates over whether oppressed communities should relinquish their jati identities as part of the struggle against caste. Rajshekar argues that such demands misunderstand the relationship between caste hierarchy and the identities of historically oppressed communities, and questions whether calls for caste abolition are being applied equally across society.

Building his argument through a close reading of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s discussion of subcastes in Annihilation of Caste, Rajshekar contends that abolishing subcastes without dismantling the caste order would strengthen existing hierarchies. He therefore defends jati identity as a political question rather than treating it as an obstacle to emancipation.

The latter part of the essay draws on examples from Kerala to argue for separate representation within the Scheduled Castes and questions the classification of some communities under the reservation system. These assertions reflect Rajshekar’s interpretation and should not be read as established historical or legal fact.

 

Debate On “Jati” Identity

 

Subcaste abolition will strengthen Hindus & their caste system: Dr. Ambedkar

Our fake democrats, socialists, and other savarna outfits say: “Don’t ask about caste, don’t think about caste, and don’t talk about caste.” They repeat this mantra through their media, so much so that our innocent Dalits and BCs, who are the original victims of the caste system, have also started repeating this very same mantra. As they are the original victims of the caste system, they want to annihilate this devilish system. That is why, when the savarnas just whisper about destroying caste, the Dalits and BCs shout and scream. But why are the savarnas (Hindus), who are the beneficiaries of the caste system, advising only Dalits not to ask about caste, not to think about caste, and not to talk about caste? Are the Hindus willing to surrender the benefits of their caste system? Will they lead a movement, the ultimate result of which will destroy the power and prestige of the savarnas? This is a serious question that we Dalits and BCs have to answer.

CALL TO ELAVAS

No Pope can be a revolutionary. Similarly, no upper-caste man can be a revolutionary. The source of his income, power, prestige, and property is his caste system. So, can he think sincerely of destroying caste? Still, he talks about destroying caste. Why? This is where we become suspicious of his motive. While they call upon us to destroy our caste, what they actually mean is to destroy our ethnic identities, but not their caste system. When they say yes, they actually mean no, and vice versa.

Sree Narayana Guru, the liberator of the Elavas of Kerala, once said:

“Don’t ask about caste, don’t think about caste, and don’t talk about caste,” but his disciple, Sahodharan Ayyappan, the most revolutionary among the disciples of Sree Narayana Guru, reversed the statement and said: “We must always ask, think, and talk about caste.”

USE THORN TO REMOVE THORN

Caste is a thorn in the body of our society. So, we have to use another thorn to remove this thorn. After its removal, we will discard both the thorns. We have lost all human rights due to the caste system. So, we must use the very caste to regain our human rights. Only after we regain all human rights can we think of the removal of caste.

The fact is, we (SC/ST/BCs) have no caste because we are not Hindus. As the original inhabitants of India, what we have are our ethnic identities, which are not caste. Our Editor is right. We are not Hindus. So, destroying caste is not our duty. It is the duty of Hindus.

While they go on strengthening their own evil caste, why are they interested in destroying our ethnic identities like the Pulaya (Pariah), Elava, etc.? This is the puzzle. The fear of the upper castes is that our caste consciousness may help us regain our lost human rights. That is why they advise us to destroy our caste (ethnic identities). For this, they want to destroy our “subcastes” first, which are our ethnic identities. When they use the word “subcaste,” they make us think that we are a part of the Hindu caste system. They know that when we destroy our “subcaste,” we will lose our identity, join the Hindu caste system, and become their most obedient slaves.

INNOCENT DALITS MISLED

Some innocent Dalits also join this Hindu anti-caste campaign. For this, they want us to give up our “sub-caste” first and unite all subcastes in the name of “Dalit.” But can they destroy our identity? Never. Is it a true solution to get our human rights? No. Babasaheb says:

“But assuming that the fusion of subcastes is possible, what guarantee is there that the abolition of subcastes will necessarily lead to the abolition of castes? On the contrary, it may happen that process may stop with the abolition of subcastes. In that case, the abolition of subcastes will only help to strengthen the castes and make them more powerful and therefore far more mischievous. This remedy is, therefore, neither practicable nor effective and may easily prove to be a wrong remedy.” (W&S Vol. 1, p. 67).

Here Babasaheb says that if we abolish the subcastes, it will only help to strengthen the caste system and make the Hindus more powerful.

That means, when we strengthen the subcastes, the Hindu caste system will be destroyed and Hinduism itself will be abolished. That is why the savarnas call upon us to destroy our caste, meaning our ethnic identity, so that enslaving the entire indigenous Dalits and BCs becomes easy.

Some Dalits may have a genuine doubt that when we strengthen our subcaste identity, our people may get divided and fight, which in turn may destroy the very “Dalit concept” and “Dalit unity.” If our people are fighting each other even now on the basis of subcastes, it is not because of these subcastes but because they are Hinduised. They also think that they are Hindus. That is why each subcaste thinks that it is “superior” to other subcastes.

The fighting is not because of our subcastes but because of this wrong notion of superiority or inferiority that they copied from Hindus.

When we educate our people on Ambedkarism and Buddhism, remove the “Hindu mind” from their brains, they will know that we are all different but equal. Each community should recognise the human rights of other communities.

Strengthening the “caste identity,” without proper education, will be a dangerous thing for the Dalits and BCs.

KERALA SCENE

How do we ensure the human rights of each and every subcaste? The good old democratic principle is by giving adequate representation to every subcaste in every field. Otherwise, only the powerful subcaste will gain everything at the cost of other weaker subcastes.

In Kerala, the Pulaya subcaste is the biggest of all other Dalit subcastes. The word “Pulayan” means the owner of the land, peasant, intellectual, etc. Now, as they have lost all their lands, the meaning of the word Pulaya is landless people. They have become the most depressed class in Kerala. The Paraya (Pariah) subcaste is also depressed and landless. They were scavengers in Kerala. Pulaya, Paraya, Valluva, Nayadi, and Chakliyas are the most depressed classes in Kerala. All these subcastes have no adequate representation in the governance of the state.

In Kerala, there are 68 subcastes in the list of Scheduled Castes.

In this list, there are so many subcastes that should actually have been included in the BC list because they are socially and economically forward.

K.R. NARAYANAN IS FORWARD

Recently, I examined the reservation list of some educational institutions, especially in MBBS and Engineering. I could find hardly two or three SC candidates who actually hail from the most downtrodden people of Kerala, i.e., Pulaya, Paraya, Chakliya, etc. Even the MLAs and MPs from reserved constituencies are actually from the forward communities but included in the SC list. This is a serious injustice to the SCs.

President K.R. Narayanan belongs to the Parava community (not Pariah). This community should have been included in the BC list. The Paravas were not unseeables but only Untouchables like the Elavas of Kerala. The hereditary occupation of the Parava women was washing, and hence they were not Untouchables.

In my area, the Paravas behave like the savarnas and discriminate against the Pulayas, Parayas (Pariah), and other Untouchables. They will not even invite these communities to their marriages. There are so many communities in the SC list who behave like the savarnas. They treat the SC people with contempt. In a fight between an SC and a savarna, they side with the savarnas. And yet, they are having all facilities, including reservations, in the name of SC. But at the same time, they will not join us in our struggle for our human rights. The original SC people are fighting and fighting without gaining anything. The benefit goes to other people who oppose and insult them in society. I have no doubt that if the original SC people understand these facts, they will demand adequate representation for each subcaste.

I can tell you that among those who are in the forefront of the “caste annihilation campaign,” we can find many such touchable SC castes. Hindus use these touchable SC subcastes to criticise our Editor’s “caste identity” thesis.

So, to end these problems, each and every subcaste must get proportional representation in every field according to its population in the governance of the country.

On May 31, 1936, Babasaheb organised a Mahar conference in Bombay. Does it mean that he hated other subcastes? What we should build between different subcastes is fraternity (brotherhood). When we fight for our human rights, we cannot oppose the human rights of other communities. This is what our Editor means when he advocates “caste identity.”

All over the world, we can see thousands of ethnic identities. None is interested in destroying its identity. Then, why should we alone destroy our identity?

However, our ethnic identities are not jati or caste. Our people are imitating the Hindus, thinking that they are Hindus. That is why some innocent, unthinking Dalits demand the destruction of our caste.

CASTE SYMBOLISES IDENTITY

What we want to destroy is the casteism of Aryans and also non-Aryans. Destroying our identity means destroying our soul. So, we must think and talk about caste, whether it is Aryan or non-Aryan.

If the upper-caste people do not use their caste identity, how can we identify them, whether it is a cobra or a rat snake? Without identifying our Enemy first, we cannot fight the Enemy.

So, ask, think, and talk about caste for liberation. Remember, as we strengthen our identity, we should also enlighten our people on Ambedkarism and Buddhism.

Our upper-caste rulers acquired everything by their communal thinking. We also can have everything in the same way. So, we too must be communalists.

That means we must love our people.

The savarnas advise us to love the enemy. We must know the trap behind this advice. They know very well that we consider them our Enemy. That is why they ask us to love the enemy. How can we fight our enemy when we don’t hate this Enemy? If we don’t hate the Enemy, we cannot fight and secure our liberation. So, we must hate our Enemy. It is our right to hate and fight our enemy to win our liberation.

What the enemy hates, we must love, and what the enemy loves, we must hate.

Then only will we get a clear picture of the Enemy’s mind. That is why, when they ask us to destroy our caste, we say no. That is why, when they ask us to love our enemy, we oppose it.

Two Serious Mistakes That Killed the Dalit Movement

Archival Note

Delivered at a BAMCEF state convention in Gulbarga (now Kalaburagi) in November 2009, this speech reflects V.T. Rajshekhar’s thinking at a particular moment in the history of the anti-caste movement. While some of its references and political judgments are rooted in that context, its central argument continues to provoke debate: what enables oppressed communities to build lasting power?

The version reproduced below has been abridged for contemporary readers. The overall argument and structure have been retained, while passages closely tied to the political context of 2009, repeated arguments, and material of primarily historical interest have been omitted. The focus remains on the speech’s two central themes: the responsibility of educated Bahujans to strengthen collective institutions, and the argument that electoral success alone cannot sustain social transformation without intellectual, organisational, and cultural power.

The complete, unabridged speech is available in the Dalit Voice archives: https://dalitvoice.net/two-serious-mistakes-that-killed-dalit-movement/

 

Two Serious Mistakes That Killed the Dalit Movement

Abridged from a speech delivered at the BAMCEF Karnataka State Convention, Gulbarga, November 22, 2009

Brother Waman Meshram and brothers and sisters of the Bahujan Samaj,

Thank you for inviting me to inaugurate the first Karnataka state convention of BAMCEF at Gulbarga.

We have watched the steady growth of BAMCEF under the leadership of Brother Waman Meshram. Organising educated employees is never easy, yet BAMCEF has emerged as one of the country’s most significant Bahujan organisations. It is fitting that this convention is being held in Gulbarga, a region associated with the legacy of Shyam Sundar, whose work left a lasting mark on anti-caste politics.

Today I wish to speak about two questions that I believe have deeply affected the Bahujan movement.

The first concerns the educated Dalits who have benefited from constitutional safeguards and reservations.

The second concerns the widespread belief that political power alone can transform society.

The First Mistake

Reservations opened opportunities that were denied to our people for generations. But education and employment were never meant to be ends in themselves. Babasaheb Ambedkar saw them as instruments for the emancipation of the entire community.

Over the years, however, I have watched with concern as many educated Dalits achieved personal success but drifted away from the larger movement. Babasaheb himself warned that educated Dalits should not forget the people from whom they came.

Our communities need educated people who build institutions, mentor younger generations, strengthen organisations, write, teach, and remain accountable to society. Without that commitment, education risks becoming only a means of individual advancement.

This is why BAMCEF matters. Organising educated Bahujans into a socially conscious force is difficult, but it is indispensable if education is to become a source of collective strength rather than individual mobility.

The Second Mistake

Much has been said about political power being the key to social progress. Electoral representation is important, but we must ask whether elections alone are sufficient to transform deeply unequal social structures.

Political office without organised social strength is fragile. Governments come and go. Lasting change requires a society that is organised, politically conscious, and capable of sustaining its own institutions.

Those who dominate society do not rely only on elections. They exercise influence through education, the media, the bureaucracy, finance, and other institutions. If we neglect these spheres while concentrating only on electoral politics, our victories will remain temporary.

Political power is not given but taken. To secure it requires strength—not merely physical strength, but intellectual strength.

This is why independent Bahujan media is not a luxury but a necessity. A movement that depends entirely on others to tell its story cannot shape its own future.

What is needed first is intellectual strength. We must produce honest intellectuals, strengthen our organisations, build institutions, and develop leadership that remains rooted in the community.

Political power becomes meaningful only when it rests upon an organised and self-confident society.

That is the challenge before us.

Thank you.

Jai Bhim!

The Politics of the Historically Oppressed Communities and Emerging Transformations in Kerala

Introduction

The recent election campaigns and electoral outcomes in Kerala reveal an important shift in the political economy of the state. Historically oppressed communities, particularly Dalits, Adivasis, Queer people, coastal communities and plantation labour populations, are increasingly reshaping democratic discourse through political responses to unequal development, land alienation, labour precarity, ecological vulnerability and exclusion from institutional power. Kerala’s development model has long been celebrated for its welfare system, literacy and public health achievements. Yet beneath this progressive image, structural inequalities around caste, land ownership, labour relations and representation persisted. The recent elections indicate that the historically oppressed communities are no longer willing to remain silent participants within larger ideological coalitions and are instead asserting independent political agency. A key feature of this shift is the emergence of intersectional solidarity linking caste, labour, ecology, gender, climate vulnerability and democratic representation. The growing assertion of Dalit and Adivasi leadership is therefore not merely symbolic identity politics, but also rooted in struggles over land, labour, rehabilitation, environmental governance and access to state power.

 

Decline of the Left in Kerala and the Crisis of the “Casteless” Narrative

One of the most significant political developments in Kerala is the visible decline of the CPM and the broader Left among sections of historically oppressed communities. The Left historically built legitimacy through class politics, labour struggles, land reforms and welfare governance. However, many Dalit and Adivasi intellectuals increasingly argue that Left politics failed to adequately confront the persistence of caste within Kerala society. The long-standing “casteless Kerala” narrative often invisibilized continuing inequalities in land ownership, institutional representation, educational access and social dignity. The political posturing around “castelessness,” including within universal welfare and “zero poverty” narratives, was increasingly criticized for masking structural caste inequalities rather than confronting them. This critique intensified further with the Left government’s endorsement of Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) reservation in Kerala. Many Dalit and Adivasi activists viewed this as an ideological shift that diluted the structural basis of caste-based reservation by reframing affirmative action through economic criteria.

Within Dalit intellectual circles, this was interpreted as evidence that the Left was increasingly accommodating upper-caste anxieties and middle-class aspirations rather than deepening anti-caste politics. The implications were both political and ideological. Historically oppressed communities increasingly expect political frameworks that directly address caste, land inequality, ecological injustice and democratic representation instead of subsuming them entirely within class-based narratives. The decline of older ideological certainties has also accelerated the emergence of intersectional solidarities among communities confronting different forms of structural exclusion.

 

Open Political Assertion by Dalit and Adivasi Leadership

A defining feature of the current political moment is that Dalit and Adivasi leadership in Kerala has increasingly begun to openly assert political positions in the public sphere. Discussions around leaders such as Sunny M. Kapicadu, C. K. Janu, and Manikuttan as potential or symbolic candidates in Kerala elections reflected an important democratic shift. The significance of these discussions lay not only in electoral arithmetic, but also in the broader recognition that historically oppressed communities now expect direct political participation and negotiated representation. Similarly, public declarations of support for the UDF by intellectuals and activists representing 52 organisations and networks, including the press conferences of Geethanandan and Ambujakshan, reflected a new political culture. This demonstrated that the leaders representing the historically oppressed communities were increasingly willing to negotiate alliances publicly.

This marks a departure from older political expectations, where historically oppressed communities were often expected to remain within broader secular or class-based coalitions without independently articulating political positions. Increasingly, intersectional solidarity is becoming the basis for new political alliances and democratic negotiations in Kerala.

 

Intellectual Assertion and Intersectional Solidarity

The recent transformations in Kerala cannot be understood only through elections. The state has also witnessed the rise of a strong generation of Dalit and Adivasi intellectuals, writers, filmmakers, journalists and public scholars who have reshaped democratic discourse. Intellectuals such as Sunny M. Kapicadu have consistently challenged caste invisibilization within Kerala’s progressive discourse while raising questions of constitutional morality, burial rights, land inequality and dignity. C. K. Janu’s long-standing struggles around Adivasi land rights and displacement continue to shape debates on indigenous justice.

Public intellectuals and scholars, including Dinu Veyil, Dhanya Raman, Rekha Raj, Vinil Paul, Syamkumar, Malavika Binny and many others, have contributed through academic research, anti-caste writing, feminist critique and public engagement. Mainstream media interventions by Rejimon Kuttappan, literary contributions by Dalit and Adivasi poets and writers, including Vedan and cinematic interventions by Dr. Biju, Mrudula Devi, Vinayakan and Leela Santhosh and many more, show how questions of caste, labour, ecological vulnerability and democratic exclusion are increasingly entering Kerala’s public sphere through multiple platforms. One important political framework emerging from these interventions is intersectional solidarity.

More than a slogan, intersectional solidarity is increasingly becoming a political formation through which historically oppressed communities are building collective democratic assertion across caste, labour, gender, ecological and livelihood struggles. Dalit, Adivasi, coastal, feminist, labour and climate-vulnerable communities are increasingly recognizing shared experiences of exclusion while also acknowledging the specificity of caste oppression. Grassroots women leaders such as Gomathi Akka, representing plantation labour women from Idukki; Maglin Philomina, from the fishing community in Thiruvananthapuram; and Ammini K, Adivasi women leader from Wayanad reflect this transformation. Their experiences reveal the intersection of caste, labour exploitation, gender inequality, climate vulnerability and livelihood insecurity. Similarly, the 266-day protest by ASHA workers in Kerala reflected growing anger over low wages and the contradictions within the state’s celebrated public health model, helping build solidarities that extended beyond conventional political and social camps.

The emergence of intersectional solidarity has also been shaped by institutional struggles and public resistance against caste oppression within Kerala’s educational and cultural spaces. Protests and mobilizations around caste discrimination at the K. R. Narayanan National Institute of Visual Science and Arts, caste exclusion within campuses and universities, atrocities against historically oppressed communities and allegations of extrajudicial aggression have contributed to a broader political consciousness among youth and social movements. Historically oppressed communities increasingly responded through protests, demonstrations, public campaigns and collective resistance. These struggles helped make caste violence, institutional discrimination and state accountability central concerns within Kerala’s democratic discourse.

 

Elections, Representation and the Future of Kerala Politics

The recent elections also revealed a deeper crisis within Kerala’s traditional bipolar political structure. The BJP’s growing vote share, reportedly reaching around 15.18% in certain contexts, reflects not only ideological polarization but also the fragmentation of older welfare-based political coalitions. Economic insecurity, youth unemployment, migration anxieties, agrarian distress and dissatisfaction with established political structures have created conditions for alternative political mobilizations. Historically oppressed communities are no longer electorally peripheral; they are becoming strategically central to Kerala’s political future.

These shifts have also complicated the UDF’s traditional social base, historically associated with sections of upper-caste and Christian communities. As the BJP attempts to expand its influence within these constituencies, the UDF is increasingly being positioned as a broader anti-BJP coalition at the state level, particularly because of the continued presence of the Muslim League within the alliance. For many supporters, this regional electoral arithmetic is also tied to a larger national calculation that strengthening the Congress-led opposition within state legislatures remains necessary to counter the BJP nationally.

At the same time, questions of representation have become increasingly important in the context of the formation of the UDF ministry. The inclusion of three Dalit MLAs as ministers is viewed by many as politically significant because it reflects growing pressure from historically oppressed communities for meaningful participation in governance and institutional power. It also suggests that mainstream political formations increasingly recognize the electoral and political importance of Dalit assertion within Kerala’s changing democratic landscape. However, the continued absence of Adivasi representation within the ministry remains deeply disappointing. In a state where Adivasi communities continue to face land insecurity, displacement, ecological vulnerability and inadequate rehabilitation, the lack of ministerial representation reinforces the long-standing invisibilization of indigenous communities within institutional power.

This contradiction reveals a deeper political economy reality within Kerala society. As historically oppressed communities increasingly build intersectional solidarities and engage more directly with questions of governance, development, representation and resource distribution, dominant social and political interests increasingly perceive this emerging unity as a challenge to existing power structures. The growing assertion of Dalit, Adivasi, coastal, plantation labour and other historically oppressed communities is therefore not merely an electoral development. It is increasingly shaped through solidarities across communities that were historically treated as separate social and political constituencies. This reflects a deeper democratization of political participation, where historically excluded communities are demanding a role in shaping policy, development priorities and governance itself. The central political question facing Kerala today is whether democratic institutions are capable of moving beyond symbolic inclusion toward structural participation and justice.

 

Conclusion

The recent electoral shifts in Kerala represent more than temporary political dissatisfaction. They reflect a deeper restructuring of democratic consciousness within the state’s political economy. Historically oppressed communities are engaging with politics through questions of land, labour, ecology, dignity, climate justice, rehabilitation and democratic participation, rather than functioning as permanent vote banks for any political formation. The growing visibility of Dalit and Adivasi intellectuals, grassroots leaders, journalists, filmmakers and activists reflects how historically oppressed communities are producing their own political narratives instead of depending on representation through dominant structures.

The future of Kerala politics may depend on how political parties respond to demands emerging from historically oppressed communities. The consolidation of intersectional solidarity among these communities may become one of the defining political developments shaping Kerala’s democratic future. What is unfolding in Kerala is therefore not simply a shift in voting behaviour. It represents the emergence of a new democratic phase in which historically oppressed communities are actively reshaping the political economy of the state.

 

Jinu Sam Jacob belongs to the Dalit community and is a social development practitioner with 18 years of experience working on human rights, climate justice, governance, urban poverty within and outside India. He has worked with organizations including Plan International, Save the Children, CRY and IIHS. Currently, he is based out of Bengaluru and working as Consultant for development Organisations, CSRs and Philanthropists. He is co-ordinating Alliance of Climate Frontline Communities and engaging in international advocacy with UNFCCC. He is also an advisor for the South Asian Sanitary Labour Network.

Everything and Nothing All At Once: New Post-Ideological Shifts in Tamil Nadu

You are most likely to understand Vijay’s Tamizhaga Vetri Kazhagam (TVK) if you have had a friend who is a people pleaser. At Vijay’s first maanadu (political conference) in 2024, soon after the launch of his party, it was revealed that the five figures whose ideologies were going to guide TVK’s ways were Ambedkar, Periyar, Kamaraj, Anjalai Ammal and Velu Nachiyar; a confusing bunch and a perfect example of too many cooks spoiling the broth. What they all have in common, except broadly overlapping progressive leanings and four out of five of them living around the same time, is beyond me. This was perhaps the earliest public hint of a personality that wants to cover all his bases and make everybody happy.

The logical conclusion of aiming for universal appeal is the strange cocktail that is Vijay’s cabinet. We have CTR Nirmal Kumar, who is TVK’s Deputy General Secretary (IT and Social Media Wing) and the Minister of Energy Resources and Law, who previously served as the President of the State IT and Social Media Wing of the BJP between 2019 and 2023. He has/continues to have affiliations with the RSS and was very strategically (rather cunningly) made to contest in the Thiruparankundram Assembly Constituency, where the centuries-old conflict between a temple and a dargah in close proximity escalated last year into full-blown communal riots. The conflict is likely to resurface in November 2026 during the annual festival of lights (Karthigai Deepam), when the Hindus will once again ask that their deepam be lit 50 metres away from the dargah. And Nirmal Kumar, as the MLA of the constituency, will oversee it all.

The party’s treasurer and Minister for Food and Civil Supplies, P. Venkataramanan, is a Brahmin candidate fielded in the constituency synonymous with Brahminism itself – Mylapore. He has famously called anti-Brahminism an “old ideology” that “does not exist now” and is “not necessary in today’s society”. Beyond the venom in his words lies some valid grouse with a century-old anti-caste movement that is solely concerned with anti-Brahminism. It is evidence of no real or meaningful effort at caste eradication by any of the Dravidian parties at the helm of power for 60+ years. Even within the last 5 years of M.K. Stalin’s reign, the murder of Dalit men in cases of inter-caste marriages, the murder of K. Armstrong – the state President of the Bahujan Samaj Party; and, where caste and labour are intrinsically linked, the sanitation workers’ protest and the Samsung workers’ strike, were not handled by the DMK with the same care they use to craft their words. That both DMK and AIADMK consistently reduce their voters to their caste identity every election cycle, with their adamance about only allowing every region’s oppressor-caste candidates to contest in their respective constituencies, is an open secret. Unsurprisingly, the one group that is unanimously and vocally happy about TVK’s victory are the Brahmins.

The foundation of people-pleasing is deliberately allowing many different meanings to be read onto you. So Vijay’s cabinet also has someone like Aadhav Arjuna, the Minister for Public Works and Sports Development, who was briefly the Deputy General Secretary of a party as strong in its Dalit liberation ideology as the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK), formerly known as the Dalit Panthers of India. Ex-YouTuber Rajmohan, the state’s Education Minister, was sworn in along with 4 women, 7 Christian, 1 Muslim and 6 other Dalit ministers, making the cabinet one with the highest number of Dalit ministers in the state so far. It is unsurprising that Vijay’s anti-casteness is accepted without much scrutiny when he has openly campaigned with the photos of Dr. Ambedkar and visited the statues of Periyar and Iyothee Thaasar after coming to power. The support of prominent figures in the anti-caste movement, such as Pa. Ranjith, only helps this narrative spread liberally. But if we are to believe the support from all sides, then we have on our hands an anti-caste party that makes Dalit people and Brahmins equally happy.

TVK is a party that is willing, nay, eager to collaborate with the BJP government. Vijay’s first official statement after being declared victorious responded to Modi’s congratulations. When the governor repeatedly delayed inviting him to form the government, he did not unleash his anger in public, an act he seems to reserve solely for the DMK. Despite backlash at the Sanskrit Vande Maataram preceding Tamil Thai Vaazhthu at his swearing-in ceremony, he repeated the sequence of events when his ministers were sworn in. The relationship between Tamil Nadu and the Union Government is strained by multiple conflicts in the realms of taxation, the Union Budget, delimitation and Keezhadi, to name a few. Vijay’s stances on all of them are unclear.

The most crucial disagreement perhaps lies in the field of education, where the state has been demanding the abolition of NEET and resisting the National Education Policy. While Raj Mohan has declared that TVK will make no compromises on the two-language policy, ABVP representatives who met Vijay on the same day as this declaration have come back with half of their demands met. People-pleasing, it turns out, is not as harmless as it looks, for it consistently sides with power when conflict emerges. At the time of writing this, Vijay has not met the press directly even once; he has perhaps realised that emulating this behaviour has no consequence.

The default Hinduism that Vijay personally subscribes to, he is unafraid to bring to the public arena. Before the election results were announced (and for some part of his campaign), Vijay was seen visiting mosques, churches and temples with a secularism that took the tone of one eager to ease Hindu anxieties. Joseph Vijay, the first Christian Chief Minister and first chief minister from a religious minority in Tamil Nadu, is constantly seen wearing an arakaja pottu, a marker that cannot be read as anything but Hindu. On his second day in office, he appointed his personal astrologer, Rickey Pandit, as his Officer on Special Duty, proof of his complete disconnection from any sense of rationalism, a move he was made to retract within 24 hours in the face of harsh criticism on the assembly floor.

Despite its history with atheism and rationalism, Tamil Nadu continues to be a deeply religious place, and one needs a figure in the state that can absorb this. A decade ago, this was J. Jayalalithaa. Post her demise and the gradual dilapidation of the AIADMK, Vijay comes as a replacement. Whether this figure is a wall or a door is yet to be seen. The stakes of holding this position are obviously very different now than they were in 2016.

The BJP winning just 1 seat in 2026 compared to 4 seats in 2021 is evidence of their irrelevance in Tamil Nadu. But the rise of Hindutva is going to look very different here than it does in the rest of the country, for the overtness of the phenomenon cannot be the sole proof of its occurrence. The widespread success of films such as Amaran, Thai Kilavi and the latest Karuppu are indicative of the fact that Hindutva will be nurtured here, as long as its references are regional.

But the road against the fascism now simmering in the state is not paved by walking on eggshells. You stand against nothing when you stand for everything, and the pandering is bound to make cracks for the BJP to make its long-attempted entry. And this will be possible not because Vijay was foaming at the mouth with hate – the opposite is in fact true – but because he was too busy running an anti-caste, secular party that is willing to collaborate with the BJP and pleases Sanghis, Brahmins and everyone in between equally.

 

Kavipriya is a writer from Tamil Nadu who likes to research, read and write and is informed by anti-caste, feminist, socialist thought.

Survival Vs Spectacle: Dalit Aesthetics

Art is often understood as an aesthetic object, something to be desired, preserved, curated, and eventually inherited. I argue we must begin from a different premise. Art must be approached as a practice of survival as much as through its aesthetic allure. Certain art forms do not seek endurance through preservation, but through repetition; they are not made to be wanted or displayed, but to continue. Emerging from bodily labour, social marginality, structural prohibition, material restriction, and historically inherited invisibility. Such art belongs to an economy of survival rather than an economy of spectacle. Its resistance does not announce itself through monumentality or permanence, but through its refusal of both. Remaining evaporative, tattooed, and perishable, its disappearance is not a failure of form, but a deliberate defiance of capture.

One such articulation of art-as-survival appears in Godna, a Dalit art form whose primary life resides not on paper or canvas, but on the body itself. Godna is fundamentally a tattooing practice, where motifs may later be transferred onto cloth, paper, or canvas, yet never fully detach from their corporeal origin. Its aesthetic language is restrained and earthly—predominantly black and white, using natural dyes derived from flowers, clay, leaves, and often cow dung. It depicts scenes drawn from daily life rather than mythic grandeur. Godna translates body art onto surfaces without relinquishing its bodily memory. In this sense, it remains aesthetically close to its roots, not by aspiring toward permanence, but by remaining grounded.

While Godna shares material and visual affinities with Madhubani, particularly in its use of natural pigments and symbolic forms, their conditions of emergence differ significantly. So do their durability and modes of endurance. Mainstream Madhubani today circulates as a curated and collectible art form, whereas Godna persists as a lived, gendered practice—central to identity rather than display. Among Bhil women, bird-like tattoos at the outer corners of the eyes function as markers of belonging as much as adornment. Elderly women often carry motifs of scorpions, deer, peacocks, and flowers—inscribed not as ornament but as memory. Here, art is a lived practice of survival, a testament to identity, kinship, and talisman. Crucially, Godna remains inseparable from the female tattooist, whose embodied labour sustains both the form and the life upon which it is inscribed. Godna does not seek to be seen; it seeks to endure.

A recurring condition across Dalit visual arts is their location within ritual labour rather than leisure. Art forms such as the Chowk—drawn inside homes, courtyards, and at thresholds—are inseparable from childbirth, death rituals, seasonal transitions, and daily acts of domestic sanctification. These markings are not decorative interventions but obligations, repeated through the body under conditions of necessity. They are erased by footsteps, weather, and work, only to be redrawn again. Their value lies not in visibility or preservation, but in continuity. In contrast, their mainstream parallels—Rangoli or parlour art—are increasingly detached from ritual burden. They are produced in moments of leisure, photographed, aestheticized, and preserved in art history curricula. What remains ritual labour in one social location is transformed into culture in another. The distinction is not one of form, but of who is allowed to make art without carrying the weight of survival.

While Dalit art often emerges as a testament of survival, its contemporary parallels operate within structures of religious dominance rather than necessity. Practices such as Sanjhi—seasonal paper-cut compositions associated with Vaishnav devotion—are deeply ritualistic, yet fundamentally different in their relation to power. Sanjhi is embedded within dominant religious iconography, structured pedagogy, and protected ritual space. Its performance is temporary but never precarious. The ritual here is elective, celebratory, not compulsory.

In contrast, Dalit ritual art does not rehearse devotion within sanctioned symbols, nor does it circulate within religious authority. It emerges instead from the thresholds of life and death, labour and continuity. Where Sanjhi performs sacrifice as symbolic devotion, Dalit art absorbs sacrifice as lived condition.

Dalit art must also be understood as a form of defiance. Historically forbidden from depicting Hindu deities and excluded from dominant sacred iconographies, Dalit artists turned instead toward nature, livelihood, and the material intelligence of everyday life. In this process, the art also transgressed the religious status quo imaginations. Animals, tools, fields, bodies, thresholds, and seasons became aesthetic sources not by choice alone, but by necessity. Here, artistic practice is inseparable from practical skill, ecological intimacy, and labour-based knowledge. And yet, their canvass continues to be expansive and subversive. In this sense, Dalit art resists not only through what it depicts, but through what it was never permitted to depict—and the worlds it chose to make visible instead.

But art cannot remain the privilege of one section of society while functioning as obligation for another. When creative practices are unevenly distributed between leisure and labour, the question is no longer aesthetic but ethical. Rituals embedded in Dalit life cannot be romanticised without erasing the conditions under which they are performed. To refuse romanticisation, then, is to shift our attention merely from the form of these practices to the conditions in which they are born. Yet it is precisely here that Dalit art endures—not through preservation, patronage, or celebration, but through necessity. Its survival does not depend on museums or markets, but on the fact that it must be done. Dalit art persists not because it is safeguarded, but because life, ritual, and memory would falter without it.

The question that inevitably follows is whether such historical obstruction and strangulation imposed limits on what Dalit art could have been. Yet to ask what Dalit artists might have produced under conditions of unrestricted expression is already to misplace the problem. It is to overwhelm the ethical with aesthetic. The restriction was not merely on subject matter or iconography, but on access to leisure, patronage, and the very right to create without compulsion. Dalit art does not testify to an absence of creative possibility; it testifies to the conditions under which creation was compelled to occur. The issue, then, is not that we have failed to see what Dalit artists could have produced, but that the social order never allowed art to emerge without bearing the weight of survival.

If the golden hour has represents the universal aesthetic ideal—in light, timing, and visibility—then Dalit art emerges without it. There is no privileged moment of illumination, no pause for perfection. For Dalit art, survival itself becomes the golden hour: the condition under which creation must occur, again and again, not when circumstances are ideal, but when life demands it.

True appreciation is not about moving a wall drawing onto canvas or an Alpana onto merchandise. The beauty lies instead in impermanence, in detachment, in a practice that refuses possession. This is the core philosophical value of Dalit aesthetics.

 

Sabahat Fida is a Kashmir-based educator writing at the intersection of science, religion, metaphysics, and philosophy.