Opinion Janaki Nair writes: The Bengaluru Mahaparinirvana rally marks new beginning for Dalit sangharsh
The rally came as a refreshing pushback from regions, such as the northern districts of Raichur, Gulbarga, Bidar, where caste atrocities are routine but unreported, as well as Bengaluru and Kolar, closer to the newsrooms and channels.
The rally centered around the legacies of Karnataka’s vibrant cultural politics and honoured the legacies of Ambedkar, and the vision enshrined in the Constitution. (Representational Pic/Express Archive) When Kannada’s bandaya (revolutionary) poet Siddalingaiah came alive again on December 6, it was in the song he had immortalised for decades, and without which no protest meet or gathering was complete. Those voices fell silent in the early 1990s, as the Dalit Sangharsh Samiti (DSS), one of the most influential political movements in Karnataka since the 1970s, succumbed to the allure of electoral politics. As Kotiganahalli Ramaiah had it, the DSS was his “first real school” though it ceased to be when the compromises began.
Yet when the powerful voice of Janni (Janardhan, member of the legendary drama troupe Samudaya) soared above the sea of blue in the National College grounds of Bengaluru on December 6, it was nothing less than an urgent call to reunite against the forces that appeared to threaten every aspect of Dalit being — whether it be the memory of Dalit cultural politics or the political and economic gains made by Dalits in Karnataka. Siddalingaiah’s song “Nenne Dina, Nanna Jana” (translated by Madhav Ajjampur) goes: “They are my people — who raise the roofs — who build the towers/ only to then be caught beneath;/ who haunt the streets — who make no noise/ before they cry themselves to sleep/ They are my people — who pay the leech —who fired by a speech/ catch flame and burn and turn to ash/ who stitch the boots; who fix the shoes/ of those who take god’s name and eat.”
After more than two decades of disarray, a serious attempt was made at this Mahaparinirvana rally to bring Karnataka’s Dalits back to the fold. They rallied around the legacies of Karnataka’s vibrant cultural politics and honoured the legacies of Ambedkar, and the vision enshrined in the Constitution. This, on a day when the newspapers were awash with images of ruling party leaders annexing the message of the Babasaheb.
The DSS rally came as a refreshing pushback from regions, such as the northern districts of Raichur, Gulbarga, Bidar, where caste atrocities are routine but unreported, as well as Bengaluru and Kolar, closer to the newsrooms and channels. The banners and posters which proclaimed this new rising featured the Buddha, Basavanna, Narayana Guru, Savitribai Phule, Kanakadasa, and M Krishnappa, the founder of DSS. It also brought into posthumous dialogue Tipu Sultan (late 18th century) and Nalwadi Krishnaraja Wodeyar (20th century). These odd bedfellows (alas, apart from Savitribai, none were women) were remembered for a variety of values they encouraged or enabled — from resistance and rebellion, to inclusion and equality, and the repudiation of religious hierarchies, if not religion itself.
Important, though potentially destabilising, questions were raised — the urgency of “reservations within reservations” as recommended by the now ignored Sadashiva Committee Report, and for reservations in the private sector. These demands were clearly addressed to the state, as howls of protest against an economic system that has not ensured Dalits minimum opportunity, let alone equality. Instead, the “worshippers” are taking away hard-won ameliorative measures. Did the Dalits of Karnataka show that their enchantment with the state may be ending? If so, what of the social transformations to which someone like Ambedkar was equally committed? Had he not warned that we would be living — even after 1950 — the life of contradictions, with only a formal commitment to equality and freedom as long as the basis of Indian society remained relatively unchanged?
Certainly, recent reports from Kolar district — which has the highest Dalit population of 30 per cent — shows that we are not yet a “society” even if we are a nation. A young boy’s family was fined Rs 60,000 for merely having touched a part of the religious apparatus on the itinerant deity. Another young man committed suicide when he was tied to a tree and beaten up by upper castes.
It is yet to be seen how this fragile unity will determine the outcome of the coming election. More importantly, it is yet to be seen if the DSS can shape the future as long as it does not take women along. Only a sprinkling of women dotted the massive rally; a token woman — Rama Teltumbde Ambedkar — was invited to speak. Never mind that all political organisations do dismally on this front. But for how much longer? The foot soldiers cannot any more consist entirely of “elder and younger brothers”, as the unreconstructed language of the songs had it. Of what use the radiant chants of a much vaunted “unity” if only one half of the sky lights up?
The writer taught history at JNU
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