[Reader-list] Dalit Rage

[Aman Sethi]

Heres another one:

 The fear of democracy of the privileged

P. Sainath

The 50th death anniversary of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar is a time to remember
that the larger society ignores or distorts the Dalits' struggle for
their rights at its own risk.

"GET READY for a siege." Follow this guide "to escape possible chaos."
Even Dalits are joining the "EXODUS." And "You thought Tuesday was
bad? It will only get worse today." There is a "nightmare" — a threat
of violence. And the poor "Mumbai police will have to bear the brunt
of it all."

These were just a few of the headlines (some of them front page, first
lead) in the press and on television channels. And they were about the
lakhs of Dalits gathered in Mumbai to observe the 50th death
anniversary of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar. That is, on December 6. There were,
of course, fine exceptions. But mostly, media coverage of the run-up
to the event was much like the coverage of post-Khairlanji protests in
Maharashtra.

This is not the first observance of the great man's anniversary. Lakhs
visit the "chaitya bhoomi" in Mumbai each year on this day. As they
did this year, too, with high discipline. And without that hell
foreseen in the headlines. (After the huge build-up, the issue has
faded from the news. Alas, no mayhem.) Then why the hysteria? Is it
because the state saw some violence after the Khairlanji murders? Now,
every issue stamped `Dalit' gets slotted into: "Will there be disorder
and chaos?"

And so a decades-old event was cast in a frame never imposed on other
annual festivals. Some of those, like the Ganesh utsav, go on for 10
days in the city. And have a massive impact on traffic. But they do
not get covered this way. And the more dismal display has come from
the English media. The Marathi press — at least on December 6 — did
better. There were essays on the man, his legacy, his relevance.

In the English media — with rare exceptions — the Ambedkar anniversary
rated at best as a traffic problem. At worst, as a potential
nightmare. There was not even a pretence of interest in the person
whose 50th death anniversary it was. A giant who was no `Dalit leader'
but a national one with a global message. Dr. Ambedkar was not just
the prime architect of the Constitution. This was a man who resigned
from the Nehru Cabinet — he was the nation's first Law Minister — on
issues linked to women's rights. He stepped down when the Cabinet
dragged its feet on the Hindu Code Bill that would have advanced the
rights of millions of women.

Few in the media asked why so many — sometimes up to a million — human
beings come to observe his death anniversary each year. Is there one
other leader across the world who draws that number 50 years after his
death? To an event that speaks to the hearts of people? To a function
not owned or organised by any political party or forum? There was no
effort to look at why it is the poor and the dispossessed who come
here. No mention that this was a man with a Ph.D from Columbia
University who returned to lead what is today the greatest battle for
human dignity on planet earth.

There was little journalistic curiosity over what brings 85-year-olds
with just two rotis in their hands all the way from Mhow in Madhya
Pradesh to Dadar in Mumbai. People for whom the journey means both
hardship and hunger. Musicians and poets who perform through the day
for nothing. Hard-up authors who print books and pamphlets at their
own cost for their fellows. And yet make the trip — driven by their
hearts and drawn by the hope of a noble vision as yet unfulfilled. A
casteless world.

Which other national leader commands this respect 50 years after his
death? Let alone when alive? Why are there more statues of Ambedkar in
India's villages than those of any other leader the country has ever
seen? His statues are not government installed — unlike those of many
others. The poor put them up at their own expense. Whether in Tamil
Nadu or Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra or Orissa, see whose portraits can
be found in the humblest of huts. It's worth trying to understand why.

The 50th anniversary is being held in the context of Dalit unrest in
Maharashtra. But it is being used to take Khairlanji out of its larger
context. Crimes against Dalits in Maharashtra have risen steadily
through the 1980s and 1990s. There were 604 cases of rape of Dalit
women recorded in 1981. That number was 885 by 1990. And rose to 1,034
by 2000. That's based on very biased official data. The real figures
would be much higher. And things have gotten worse since then.

There is one exception. Crimes under the Prevention of Atrocities
(PoA) Act do show a big dip in the 1990s. But only because the Shiv
Sena-Bharatiya Janata Party Government arbitrarily dropped thousands
of these cases at one go.

As the Dalit voice in organised politics has declined, the number of
caste attacks on Dalits in Maharashtra has increased. Earlier, their
political strength was their best shield. For decades, they had
repelled the worst excesses of landlord cruelty. Untouchability did
not vanish. But they did fight it stoutly. This culture of resistance
rested on strong political movements. So, though less than 11 per cent
of Maharashtra's population, Dalits had begun to stand tall.

But the Republican Party of India splintered and many of its leaders
were co-opted by mainline parties. The Dalit Panthers, once a key
source of inspiration and strength, went almost extinct. The results
of the decline showed up soon. There was no struggle against the
dropping of those thousands of cases under the PoA Act. Electoral
opportunism saw the RPI factions crumble further. The 2004 polls saw
them put up their worst show ever.

You can see it in battles over water as in Jalna, labour boycotts in
Raigad or wage battles elsewhere. Attacks on Dalits have risen across
Maharashtra. Just a year ago, more than 20 Dalit houses were torched
in Belkhed village in Akola district. Akola was once a centre of Dalit
political strength. In the 1960s, RPI candidates used to get 40 per
cent of the votes in the Lok Sabha seat here.

RPI fractured

Hindutva's rise from the late 1980s saw the RPI fracture further. Too
many leaders were swallowed by the Congress and later the Nationalist
Congress Party. Dalit unity lost ground. These setbacks were to
reflect in every sphere. The shrinking of public sector and government
jobs in the reform years hit Dalits badly. Even existing jobs lie
vacant. A Times of India report reckons that more than 1.3 lakh
government posts in reserved categories in Maharashtra have not been
filled up for years.

Meanwhile, the protests after Khairlanji have had an ugly companion.
The growing display of caste prejudice in the media. The claims were
sick. Khairlanji had nothing to do with caste. The woman who was raped
and murdered was of loose morals. There were no "upper castes" in the
village. (That last had to come from an English-language journalist
unaware that the dominant caste in a given village might not be an
"upper caste" at all.) Dalits were holding the state "to ransom."
Wicked `politicians' were behind what was going on. The protests were
Naxal-driven.

As always, there were brilliant exceptions. (Even on television.) They
did not, though, define the main trend. The same media treat
anti-quota activists as heroes. (No matter how much damage they
inflict or how close to racist their rhetoric gets.)

Interviews in the run-up to the Ambedkar anniversary were mostly with
people whining that Shivaji Park had been turned into a toilet. Or who
spoke only about pollution and traffic jams.

It would be startling if political groups did not enter the protests.
Corporation and panchayat elections are due in February. And parties
won't ignore that. But they did not set off this process, even if they
sought to engage with or exploit it. Ordinary Dalits were on the
streets long before Dalit party leaders were. Khairlanji was the fuse.
An already deep disquiet, the bomb. Many of these protests have taken
place outside traditional political frameworks. On the streets were
salaried employees and full time workers. People with no firm party
links. There were salespersons and teachers, hawkers, and vendors.
Landless and jobless. They, not `vested interests,' were the key to
what happened.

The police still plug the `Naxal' angle. The Maoists just do not have
the power to stage State-wide actions. Any political group, though,
would be thrilled to get the credit for having launched protests it
did not even foresee. It builds its appeal. Note that many Dalit party
leaders joined the protests days after they began. Attempts to brand
the protests as `Naxal-led' are poor escapism.

This is a State witnessing the highest numbers of farm suicides in the
country. The conditions of the poor are dismal. For thousands, their
anger and despair has turned inwards, within and upon themselves.
Hence the suicides. With Dalits, that anger is being expressed.
Outwards and openly. The larger society ignores or distorts their
struggle for their rights at its own risk.

In the end it is more than a fear of violence that annoys elite
society and its media. It is a fear of the mass. A worry that these
people no longer know their place. A fear of the assertion of their
rights and the loss of our privileges. A fear, in short, of democracy.