Opinion What Mayawati’s mega rally on Kanshi Ram’s death anniversary tells us about future of Dalit politics

For many observers, it marked Mayawati’s re-entry into the public sphere against the backdrop of a much-debated crisis of Dalit-Bahujan politics. But this return carries meaning beyond mere nostalgia. It is a deliberate attempt to reclaim the ground beneath the emotion and assertion of “we-ness” among Dalit-Bahujan in this fragmented world of “I”.

Back to Bahujan

The BSP’s decline has been steep. From ruling Uttar Pradesh with a full majority in 2007, the party slid into near-irrelevance. In the 2022 Assembly elections, it won only one seat, with its vote share dropping to 12.9 per cent, down from 22.2 per cent in 2017 and over 30 per cent in 2012. In the 2024 Lok Sabha polls, it failed to win a single seat, managing just 9.35 per cent of the state’s vote.

This erosion has multiple causes — organisational fatigue, defections, Mayawati’s withdrawal from mass contact, and the BJP’s aggressive outreach to non-Jatav Dalits. Yet, while her electoral fortunes waned, the BSP’s core idea — that Dalits can and should be autonomous political actors — retained symbolic power. The Lucknow rally sought to awaken that dormant memory.

But why is the silence broken now? There are both strategic and psychological reasons for the timing. With the 2027 Assembly elections approaching, Mayawati must re-energise her cadres and remind voters that the BSP remains an independent pole. The rally also coincides with renewed public interest in Kanshi Ram’s legacy, as other parties — including the Samajwadi Party and Congress — have begun to invoke his name to attract Dalit voters.

By choosing Kanshi Ram’s death anniversary, Mayawati seemed to have reclaimed that symbolism and sent a message to her own organisation: The founder of the movement remains the rallying point for Bahujan unity, not just a shared icon for all.

Relevance of Dalit politics beyond one party

Equally significant is the subtext in light of the rise of other Dalit leaders like Chandrashekhar Azad, MP from Nagina, who has begun to occupy the space once held solely by Mayawati. His Azad Samaj Party (ASP), emerging from the Bhim Army Bharat Ekta Mission, presents itself as a radical alternative.

In the 2024 general election, Azad in Nagina got over 51 per cent of the vote, while the BSP’s candidate polled just 1.3 per cent. For many young Dalits, he symbolises defiance rather than bureaucratic stability. In this context, Mayawati’s rally is an assertion of primacy — a reminder that, despite fragmentation, she remains the only Dalit leader with a state-wide organisation and historic legitimacy.

In Indian politics, numbers on the ground still matter. A large rally is not only a test of organisational strength but a declaration of existence. When tens of thousands of supporters travel from across districts to assemble in Lucknow, it demonstrates logistical reach and morale — both of which the BSP desperately needs to recover.

Mass gatherings also have a psychological effect. Physical presence restores visibility and confidence for a party long dismissed as moribund. For supporters, especially the Jatav/Chamar community, such events reaffirm belonging and shared history. For the broader political class, it complicates the narrative that Dalit politics has moved on from the BSP.

Still, the landscape Mayawati confronts is far more plural than in her heyday. The Samajwadi Party, under Akhilesh Yadav, has sought to project a backwards–Dalit unity. And Chandrashekhar Azad’s emergence has re-energised Dalit youth through a vocabulary of protest, not patronage.

This pluralism is both a challenge and a validation of Kanshi Ram’s original vision. When he founded the BSP, he aimed to make the “Bahujan” — the majority of oppressed castes — politically conscious and independent. Today, that consciousness has produced multiple articulations, sometimes competing, but rooted in the same quest for dignity. Mayawati’s rally can thus be read as an attempt to re-centre, not monopolise the discourse.

Dalit-Bahujan identity in Indian politics

Therefore, the question remains whether this show of strength translates into votes. The BSP’s traditional support base among Jatavs has shrunk, and its outreach to Muslims and backward castes is weak. Yet, rallies like this can have multiplier effects: They rebuild morale, attract local leaders seeking viable tickets, and remind Dalit voters that their political agency need not be outsourced.

For Mayawati, the immediate task is organisational — reviving local committees, empowering second-tier leadership, and offering an agenda that speaks to younger Dalits who face unemployment and state surveillance more than the old politics of humiliation.

Yet, the more profound significance of the rally lies in what it says about India’s democracy. Even as the performance of Dalit caste-based parties like the BSP has splintered, Dalit-Bahujan politics remains indispensable. Every major party today — from the BJP’s “Sabka Saath” rhetoric to the SP’s “Pichda–Dalit–Alpashankyak” formula — invokes caste identities in its electioneering.

Dalit assertion, once marginal, has become a reference point for all. It continues to animate the language, strategies, and imagination of Indian democracy. Mayawati’s rally, therefore, is not a mere throwback to the past — it is a reminder that the struggle for dignity and representation still defines the pulse of politics in Uttar Pradesh, and perhaps of India itself.

The writer is a Visiting Faculty at the National Law School of India University, Bengaluru