For some Dalits, Ambedkar is an actual prophet who changed the course of their history and future. But despite his outstanding political career and invaluable contribution to Dalit rights, Ambedkar’s celebrity faded fast, especially when compared to upper-caste nationalist leaders like Gandhi and Nehru. So why are political parties, especially ones like the BJP, which stand for everything Ambedkar opposed, slashing at each other now to declare him as ‘one of their own’? According to political theorist and Ambedkar scholar Ananya Vajpeyi, it’s precisely because he opposed them. For all these years, Ambedkar was deliberately kept out of the spotlight because his blunt analyses about complex power structures were too dangerous for the upper-caste establishment, which includes not only the BJP but all political parties that have been in existence since Independence, including the Congress. Most people who read Ambedkar’s original texts for the first time end up with an impressive understanding of politics, human rights and government policy. His skill and expertise turn difficult theories into simple concepts that are accessible to anyone with a basic understanding of the language and do not require knowledge of academic theories. Generations have missed out on learning his contributions to equality and human rights. But in the past few decades, especially after the anti-Mandal protests, Dalits turned to him in a big way and actively brought his work back into the spotlight, even if it was limited to Dalit circles. The BJP, known for its astute political strategy, discovered that Ambedkar was a clear and direct path to Dalits and their votes. But they couldn’t possibly risk engaging with his ideas, which directly attack their foundational principles and would not be palatable to the powerful upper-caste vote bank. So they appropriated Ambedkar but did not discuss his philosophy or his criticism of the established power structure. By aligning with Ambedkar’s image, which has been a symbol for Dalit rights, they would like to project themselves as a political party that stands for equality. But most political parties want nothing to do with his ideas. Vajpeyi writes that the BJP’s strategy to appropriate Ambedkar—along with Gandhi and Patel—is a ‘means to neutralize the ideological threat posed by these leaders’.

When Ambedkar was alive and even in the decades after his death, he was attacked for his ideas and his vehement criticism of Hindu philosophy. In 1987, the posthumous release of his book, Riddles in Hinduism, that questions the greatness of Krishna and Rama, sparked riots in Mumbai and Hindu organizations demanded its ban. But only thirty years later, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), India’s largest Hindu nationalist voluntary organization, not only included him in ‘Hinduism’s Historic Heroes’ but also published books with titles like Prakhar Rashtra Bhakt Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar (2014) and Rashtra-Purush Babasaheb Dr. Bhimrao Ambedkar (2015). These books twist arguments to claim that Ambedkar did not in fact leave Hinduism since he didn’t convert to Islam or Christianity. He merely converted to Buddhism, which is but a ‘different sect of Hinduism’. Another outrageous title, Manusmriti Aur Dr. Ambedkar (2014), explains that since Ambedkar was not an expert in Sanskrit, his interpretation of Manusmriti was flawed. In a stunning denial of facts, history and well-established cultural truths, it claims that the Manusmriti was not in fact a manual that dealt with caste and gender rules.

As outrageous as the RSS’s attempts to appropriate Ambedkar as a ‘Hindu Hero’ might be, they’re certainly not the only ones to do so. As I have the noted, the current BJP government that shares an ideological relationship with the RSS has also displayed an increasing allegiance to Ambedkar. ‘[W]e have seen frequent sentimental references to Ambedkar in the PM’s speeches, expensive new museums being constructed in houses where Ambedkar lived in Delhi (Civil Lines) and London (Primrose Hill), and an eruption of Ambedkar signage, statuary and memorabilia in public spaces all across the country,’ writes Vajpeyi, who is currently working on a project related to Ambedkar’s life. The Indian Left parties, which have historically not paid much attention to Ambedkar’s work or ideas (at the time of discussions of the Poona Pact they claimed that reservation for Depressed Classes was taking away from the real struggle for freedom), have discovered what Vajpeyi calls a ‘newfound admiration’ for Ambedkar. Prominent Communist leaders like Sitaram Yechury, Prakash Karat and D. Raja have not only spoken about Ambedkar’s commitment to Dalit rights but also criticized the BJP’s admiration as ‘politically expedient and motivated by a desire to tap into the Dalit vote’. Vajpeyi rightly observes that the Hindu right ideology directly clashes with everything Ambedkar stood for and the Left’s efforts to cosy up to him are also ‘too little, too late’. ‘[O]ne wonders why the Left parties have allowed decades to pass before recognizing their own natural affinities with Ambedkar, especially on questions of inequality, caste and class, reservations, labour, and Ambedkar’s scholarly interest in Karl Marx,’ she writes.

The pushback against Ambedkar (and the attempt at appropriation by various factions) has failed to stop his ideas from spreading. While the larger Dalit community has actively nourished his legacy, it is Dalit students who have even modelled themselves on his ideas, often in the face of severe discrimination and backlash. It was Rohith’s adherence to Ambedkarite principles that caused him to clash with the university administration, led him to be suspended and finally take his own life.

The Ambedkarite Students’ Association (ASA), which was formed on the Hyderabad University campus in 1994, is among the many active student bodies that live by and propagate Ambedkar’s philosophy. Initially, it worked mainly as a support group for Dalit students, but in 2007, it also took on a political role when it decided to contest the university student elections. Since then, the ASA has been a powerful player in the university’s politics and has tried to steer it in a direction more aligned with Ambedkar’s beliefs of equality, fraternity and liberty. Similarly, the Birsa Ambedkar Phule Students’ Association (BAPSA) at JNU and the Ambedkar–Periyar Study Circle at IIT Madras have been actively disseminating his ideas into the mainstream. BAPSA describes itself as an independent organization that ‘has been consistently fighting and taking part in the Ambedkarite movement, which is striving to annihilate the caste system and Brahmanism’. Meanwhile, the Ambedkar–Periyar Study Circle hopes to ‘promote the thoughts and ideas of Ambedkar, Periyar and other progressive social thinkers and reformers’, and cultivate a scientific temper. Universities being the upper-caste spaces they are, it’s hardly surprising that all three of these Ambedkarite student organizations have faced pushback from their administrations. Even before the ASA became politically active, under the administration of then chief warden Appa Rao Podile (he was the vice chancellor who suspended Rohith Vemula and four other Dalit students in 2015) measures were introduced that would be detrimental to poor Dalit students. In 2001, he discontinued a flexible payment system that allowed poor Dalit students cover their food bills. When ASA members confronted him about this, he allegedly asked the guards to ‘throw them out’. A scuffle broke out and several Dalit students were arrested and suspended for a few years. BAPSA was formed in 2016 and several of its student members were arrested and suspended months later for ‘physical violence’. They were protesting a new UGC policy that would make in-person interviews the only criterion for admission at JNU. Similar to ASA in 2001, in this case as well when the students began to argue, the administration called security guards to throw them out, which led to the physical struggle.

Five students including Rohith Vemula were suspended in July 2015 for allegedly injuring an ABVP student. Although a proctorial board found that there was no substance to this complaint, union Minister for Labour and Employment Bandaru Dattatreya wrote to the Human Resource Development (HRD) Ministry complaining that that ‘anti-national’ and ‘casteist’ groups were operating from the university campus. After this, a new committee was set up which revoked the suspension of the students, but they were expelled from the hostel and barred from using university facilities. After Rohith committed suicide, students protested, demanding the resignations of Dattatreya and HRD Minister Smriti Irani for their alleged role in this affair. It was somewhat puzzling that a central government ministry got directly involved in the day-to-day administration of a college.

The incidents that got these ASA students labelled as ‘anti-national’ and even casteist were directly inspired by Ambedkar’s ideology. In July 2015, the ASA, with Vemula as the organizational secretary, was labelled anti-national for protesting against the death penalty for Yakub Memon for the 1993 Bombay bomb blasts. Ambedkar was famously against capital punishment, which even today disproportionately targets Dalits, Adivasis and Muslims. While this protest didn’t garner much attention at the time, it was the excuse that the political establishment used to delegitimize Rohith Vemula after his death.

Rohith was deeply inspired by Ambedkar’s ideas and frequently quoted him on his Facebook page. But he didn’t start out with the ASA or even with an Ambedkarite political identity. Initially, Rohith joined the Students’ Federation of India, the student body of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), but quit after he noticed their apathy towards the suicides of Dalit students Pulyala Raju and Madari Venkatesh on campus. By 2015, even a few days before his death, Rohith was constantly evoking Ambedkar with his actions, particularly with the Velivada protest. Banned from entering the hostel and with nowhere else to go, the suspended students (Rohith and four others) decided to create ‘Velivadas’ (a Telugu word that refers to Dalit ghettos) on campus to drive home the casteist discrimination they were facing. With grimy rolled up mattresses, plastic tarps and white sheets with ‘Velivada’ scrawled across them, they squatted in the middle of the campus, forcing people to pay attention to their pain. It was an elegant, modern and charged form of protest similar to that of Emma Sulkowicz’s—the Columbia University student who carried the mattress on which she had been raped on her back throughout campus in 2014. But, more importantly, their protest directly emulated Ambedkar himself, who set Hindu holy texts on fire to force people to pay attention. Even in his death, which triggered a Dalit revolution that hasn’t been seen since the anti-Mandal protests of the 1990s, Rohith brought Ambedkar’s ideas to public attention.

Dr B. R. Ambedkar is the godfather of Dalit rights in India. Many of us are hugely indebted to him and his ideas. But in following his principles, all of us Dalits are vulnerable to attacks by the upper-caste establishment. This does not deter us, it only makes us more determined. His legacy is now stronger than ever. Dalit groups in India and all over the world—some of them provided my first real brush with Ambedkar—have made that sure his work, his ideas and his contribution to Dalit lives remains alive forever.

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