The Dalit paradox

Sudha Pai and Sajjan Kumar's book delves into the complex dynamics of Dalit identity and politics, and the intriguing reasons for their protest against right-wing politics while also voting for them

Maya, Modi, Azad: Dalit Politics in the Time of Hindutva

Authors: Sudha Pai & Sajjan Kumar

Publisher:Harper Collins

Pages: 307

Price: Rs 599

Amid all the contradictions of Indian society and politics, the issue of Dalit identity is arguably the most complicated one. And going beyond glib — sometimes smug — assumptions about Dalit political behaviour, this book seeks to understand the various phases in Dalit political history, what moves and mobilises them as a caste and how this changes politics.

The authors’ field of inquiry is Uttar Pradesh, the playground of Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) leader Mayawati, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) icon Narendra Modi and newer leaders such as Chandrashekhar Azad. Cutting a decisive swathe through a narrative that can meander, the book seeks to explain the meaning of being a Dalit in UP politics and society and the trajectory this is taking.

Sudha Pai and Sajjan Kumar  note that the rise of Ms Mayawati was accompanied by the rise of the idea of sarvajan (universal good). They say that through its history, the BSP’s goal had been “equalisation of caste rather than its annihilation, which it believed could be achieved through democratisation of the undemocratic order”. BSP ideologues derived this idea from B R Ambedkar’s concept of equality of individuals and the belief that to achieve this, political activists needed to work within the caste structure, because caste is a reality.

The book quotes an activist as saying: “We should face the fact that a Dalit is discriminated against and humiliated by the caste Hindu society because of his caste and not his personality or behaviour…and we are using caste to weaken the caste mindset.” To further this understanding, the BSP in 2005 set up a structure to operationalise the sarvajan campaign. The caste coalitions built as a result led to BSP getting an absolute majority in the state for the first time with 206 seats and a vote share of 30.4 per cent.

But by the 2022 Assembly election, the BSP had dwindled to one seat with a vote share of 12.9 per cent, pushing it into extreme crisis. The book analyses what went wrong and concludes that while the Jatav, a powerful and affluent sub-caste, stayed with the BSP, the smaller sub-castes were prised away by the BJP. Obviously, this was not the only reason. Under Narendra Modi, the BJP’s outreach to Dalits was symbolic but substantive. If earlier, Murli Manohar Joshi claimed camaraderie with Ms Mayawati on the basis of a  rakhi, now Mr Modi’s action of washing the feet of safai karmacharis at Prayagraj during the Kumbh Mela (2019) sent a powerful symbolic message. When you add to that the politics of the labharthi  (beneficiary), large sections of Dalit society swung towards Mr Modi and his subaltern Hindutva appeal.

Other issues were at play as well: The sarvajan coalition broke, the Dalit-Muslim alliance collapsed, and many of Ms Mayawati’s trusted strategists left her, some poached by the BJP, others simply because she could not get on with them. Suddenly it was the BJP that became the new Dalit hope. This was buttressed by repeated calls to Ambedkar’s greatness by Mr Modi and, interestingly, the exertions of UP Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath. The authors say that Mr Adityanath’s Hindu Yuva Vahini, now disbanded and transformed into a band of “political executives”, drew its cadres largely from the middle castes and non-Chamar Dalits and enabled BJP to make inroads in eastern UP and the Mau-Gorakhpur region.

But all actions have a reaction.

Dalits came into the BJP but that does not mean caste identity went away. Upper castes resented the new Dalit assertion — fortified by Hindutva self-confidence and economic power, for they were now part of a ruling coalition. This was manifested in attacks on Dalit, rape and pillage. This was nothing new. But state structures, so responsive during the Mayawati regime, would not respond with as much alacrity now. Recognising that a post-Ambedkarite response was merited, Chandrashekhar Azad launched his Bhim Army as part of a new phase of Dalit politics. Mr Azad was “a part of the upwardly mobile and aspiring younger generation who, disappointed with the BSP, decided to enter politics,” write the authors. Of course, he still has to prove his electoral spurs.

Mr Azad’s story and his attraction to politics is described vividly: He began life in the Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP), the youth organisation affiliated to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, but walked out when he found that “whenever a Muslim-Dalit clash took place, the ABVP was there but when the violence was by upper castes against Dalits, it disappeared”. His strategy was “direct action” based on confrontation to restore the dignity of Dalits, the authors write.

So what happens now? Is it safe to write the BSP’s obituary? Ms Mayawati has made many changes in response to challenges. Her nephew Akash is now the principal party manager. The Samajwadi Party’s soft Hindutva is causing extensive ferment among Muslims. In the old days, this would have been convenient for BSP. But buffeted by challenges from all sides, including a rickety organisation, Ms Mayawati’s capacity to forge new social coalitions has weakened.

The authors note, however, that this does not mean the Dalit discourse is settled. Indeed, we’re seeing Dalit assertion extending to the diaspora, with organisations such as Equality Labs in Seattle and California demanding that caste discrimination be recognised institutionally as it was “widespread and systemic”.

This is a richly researched, thoughtfully laid out book and will be a valuable reference point for more enquiry into a perplexing problem: Why Dalits protest against right-wing politics; but also vote for it.