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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 10:09:24 am

Maharashtra’s Ambedkarite Dilemma

Few states have shaped India’s political imagination as profoundly as Maharashtra. From the freedom struggle to labour agitations, from anti-caste reform movements to modern coalition politics, the state has repeatedly generated ideas that altered the country’s political vocabulary. Among the communities that most decisively influenced this journey, the Scheduled Castes occupy a singular place. Yet for all their ideological depth, emotional solidarity and historic legacy, Scheduled Caste...

Maharashtra’s Ambedkarite Dilemma

Few states have shaped India’s political imagination as profoundly as Maharashtra. From the freedom struggle to labour agitations, from anti-caste reform movements to modern coalition politics, the state has repeatedly generated ideas that altered the country’s political vocabulary. Among the communities that most decisively influenced this journey, the Scheduled Castes occupy a singular place. Yet for all their ideological depth, emotional solidarity and historic legacy, Scheduled Caste politics in Maharashtra has never evolved into a stable electoral force on the scale seen in Tamil Nadu. That paradox now sits at the centre of a serious political question: can Maharashtra’s Scheduled Caste community emerge as a consolidated and decisive vote bank of the sort that has shaped politics in southern India for decades? According to the 2011 Census, Scheduled Castes constitute roughly 11.81 percent of Maharashtra’s population of over 11 crore people—around 1.33 crore citizens. Though lower proportionately than Tamil Nadu’s Scheduled Caste population of more than 20 percent, Maharashtra’s vast size gives the community considerable electoral importance across urban and semi-urban belts such as Mumbai, Pune, Nagpur, Vidarbha and Marathwada. But numbers alone do not create political unity. Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar became the moral and intellectual foundation of modern social justice politics in India. He offered a philosophy of emancipation through education, rights and constitutional morality. One of the defining moments in Maharashtra’s political history came in October 1956, when Ambedkar embraced Buddhism in Nagpur alongside nearly five lakh followers. This was political theatre of the highest order: a declaration of self-respect and a rejection of entrenched social humiliation. And yet, this emotional solidarity has rarely translated into sustained electoral cohesion for Ambedkarites. Multiple Factions After Ambedkar’s death in 1956, the Republican Party of India (RPI) emerged with the ambition of carrying forward his political vision. In its early years, the party showed promise, especially in constituencies with sizeable Scheduled Caste populations. But ideological disagreements, personality clashes and disputes over alliances, particularly with the Congress, soon hollowed it out. Over time, the RPI fragmented into multiple factions, each carrying fragments of Ambedkar’s legacy but little of his mass political force. Today, the once-formidable Republican movement had splintered into several marginal outfits, many dependent on alliances with larger parties for relevance. The contrast with Ambedkar’s original political ambitions could scarcely have been sharper. The state witnessed another wave of Scheduled Caste assertion in the 1970s with the rise of the Dalit Panthers. Inspired partly by the Black Panther movement in the United States, young writers, activists and poets began confronting caste violence and discrimination with unprecedented intensity. Figures such as Namdeo Dhasal and Raja Dhale became symbols of cultural rebellion. The Panthers transformed Maharashtra’s social discourse. Poetry, literature and street protest became instruments of political awakening. But the movement, for all its cultural power, lacked booth-level organisation, financial networks, disciplined cadre structures and a unified leadership. Nowhere was this contradiction more visible than in Marathwada during the Namantar Andolan, the movement to rename Marathwada University after Ambedkar. When the Maharashtra legislature approved the renaming in 1978, violent protests erupted across the region. Scheduled Caste families were attacked, homes burned and social boycotts imposed. The agitation lasted nearly sixteen years before the university was finally renamed Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Marathwada University in 1994. But even such a prolonged and emotionally charged struggle failed to produce a permanent political front. Tamil Nadu followed a different path altogether. For decades, politics there revolved around organised identity movements that evolved into formidable political institutions. Parties such as the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam and the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam converted social mobilisation into disciplined electoral machinery. Since 1967, Dravidian parties have dominated Tamil Nadu’s politics with remarkable continuity. Their success rested not merely on rhetoric, but on institution-building: local leadership structures, welfare networks, women’s wings, grassroots workers and long-term voter loyalty. Scheduled Caste voters became integrated into broader social coalitions that remained politically organised over generations. Fragmented Politics Maharashtra’s politics, by contrast, remains profoundly fragmented. Scheduled Caste voters are distributed across multiple parties. Some continue to support the Congress because of its historical association with Ambedkarite politics. Others gravitate towards the Bharatiya Janata Party, particularly after leaders such as Ramdas Athawale aligned with the BJP-led alliance. Younger voters increasingly prefer issue-based politics centred on education, employment and representation, while many continue to follow regional or sub-caste leaders rather than a common ideological platform. The internal diversity of Maharashtra’s Scheduled Castes further complicates consolidation. The Mahar community has historically dominated Ambedkarite politics, but communities such as the Matangs and Charmakars often follow different political trajectories. Political parties have skilfully exploited these divisions by fielding candidates from different sub-castes in reserved constituencies. Recent years have nevertheless produced attempts to revive independent Bahujan politics. The most ambitious came through Prakash Ambedkar and the Vanchit Bahujan Aghadi. When launched in 2018, the VBA generated substantial excitement among marginalised communities. In the 2019 Lok Sabha elections, it secured nearly 7 percent of the vote. Yet, the momentum faded quickly. By the 2024 elections, the party had struggled to convert support into seats. Still, the VBA demonstrated that even when Scheduled Caste voters are not electorally united, they remain capable of decisively altering electoral outcomes. A younger generation is now reshaping the debate altogether. Social media activism, student movements and conversations around reservation, education and social mobility have created a politically aware constituency that is less interested in symbolic politics alone. Mainstream parties understand this well. Almost every major political formation now celebrates Ambedkar Jayanti, foregrounds social justice schemes and showcases Scheduled Caste leaders prominently during elections. Can Maharashtra therefore produce a Scheduled Caste vote bank comparable to Tamil Nadu’s? Yes and no. Yes, because the state possesses all the raw ingredients: a towering ideological legacy through Ambedkar, a deeply rooted emotional identity and an increasingly politically conscious electorate. No because Maharashtra’s political culture is fundamentally more fractured. Regional equations, sub-caste divisions, leadership rivalries and shifting economic aspirations make complete consolidation difficult. Perhaps, Maharashtra will not replicate Tamil Nadu’s model at all. Perhaps its Scheduled Castes will evolve something more fluid and, in some ways, more formidable: not a permanent vote bank, but a politically aware electorate capable of shifting power equations whenever it chooses to act collectively. (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

Omar welcomes Indus Water Treaty suspension, calls it “most unfair document” for J&K



SRINAGAR: Jammu and Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah on Friday welcomed the Central government’s decision to suspend the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) with Pakistan following the deadly Pahalgam attack that claimed 26 lives. He also referred to the treaty as the “most unfair document” for the people of J&K.


“The Government of India has taken some steps. As far as Jammu and Kashmir is concerned, let’s be honest. We have never been in favour of the Indus Waters Treaty. We have always believed it to be the most unfair document to people of J&K,” Abdullah told reporters in Srinagar after meeting representatives from the tourism, trade, and industry sectors. However, he noted that the long-term impact of this move is still uncertain.


The IWT suspension is part of India’s response to the brutal attack. Other actions include expelling Pakistani military attaches and shutting down the Attari land-transit point immediately.


When questioned about the impact of the April 22 attack on the region’s tourism industry, Abdullah dismissed concerns about monetary losses. “At this juncture, we are not counting rupees or paisa. Not one of the businessmen or stakeholders in the tourism industry who attended the meeting lamented the loss of business. Not one of them expressed any concern about what would happen to them.”


“Right now, our priority is to express solidarity with the bereaved,” he said, adding, “At some point in future, we may sit down to discuss the financial implications (of the attack) on J&K’s economy. But not a single stakeholder present in the meeting raised a demand for monetary relief for the losses they are suffering.”


Omar described the tourist exodus from J&K after the massacre as “heartbreaking”. The future of the Valley’s tourism sector remains uncertain, with widespread trip cancellations following the attack.

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