Sectarian poison
A
quarter of a century after building a base with Vanniyar exclusivism, and
failing to broaden it with Tamil nationalism, Pattali Makkal Katchi founder
Dr S. Ramadoss tries to cobble up an anti-Dalit front in a desperate attempt
to overcome political isolation.
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It is a truism that societies by
their very nature are discordant. This is particularly true of India, which has
persisted with rigid hierarchies and structured inequalities. The framers of
the Constitution were conscious of this and the dangers of the caste monster
stalking India and stifling its development as an inclusive modern society
devoid of disparities and discrimination.
It would have been impossible to
abolish the centuries-old institution of caste by legislation and in one
stroke. So, when the Constitution was framed, the mandate, as a testimony to
constitutional pragmatism, was to ignore it in public life and make illegal its
socially iniquitous, outrageous, stigmatic, discriminatory and exclusionary
aspects and allow it to have a natural death, providing at the same time
adequate safeguards against exploitation and oppression of the disadvantaged
groups of traditional India’s caste society and for their social and
educational advancement to enable them to move to the mainstream of society.
To transform this mandate into
reality, reshaping recalcitrant social patterns by disabling caste as an institution
and strengthening and expanding human rights was a sine qua non. An important
way of doing this was by treating development as freedom (in the sense in which
Amartya Sen used the term), with the development efforts firmly grounded in
democracy, secularism, socialism and egalitarianism.
But the framers of the Constitution
would not have anticipated that certain political dynamics unleashed by the
Constitution would go against the political process that shapes the larger
contours of development policies and projects.
Of these the most important was the
outcome of universal adult suffrage. As individuals were perceived and treated
(and are perceived and treated even now) as members of castes and communities
and not as units of society, with the coming of democracy caste got a new lease
of life as the sociologist M.N. Srinivas said in 1960 (“The Indian Road to
Equality”, The Economic Weekly,
Special Number, June 1960 ).
With caste groups suddenly getting a
lot more space for political articulation, the castes that were politically
active in the past became more active in the new ambience generated by
universal adult franchise. The results were twofold:
(a) Realignment of castes for
forming a “horizontal stretch” by cognate castes to garner numerical strength
for political mobilisation. On this Srinivas’ observations are more relevant
today: “The general election of 1957 awoke everyone to the importance of caste
in voting. Every party tried to choose a candidate from a locally numerically
strong caste. The communists invented a progressive term for it: ‘social base’.
And they made sure that every communist candidate had a social base (Ibid.).”
(b) The fallout of the exceptions in
Article 15 that “nothing in this Article or in clause (2) of Article 29 shall
prevent the state from making any special provision for the advancement of any
socially and educationally backward classes of citizens or for the Scheduled
Castes and the Scheduled Tribes” and in Article 16 that “nothing in this
Article shall prevent the state from making any provision for the reservation
of appointments or posts in favour of any backward class of citizens which, in
the opinion of the state, is not adequately represented in the services under
the state”.
The S.Cs and the S.Ts are well
defined categories; and their population percentages are not in dispute; in
fulfilment of the constitutional mandate for their representation in the Lok
Sabha and State Assemblies proportionate to their populations they have been
enumerated in the decennial Censuses. Hence, the provisions for their safeguard
are less controversial.
Following the rejection of the
report of the first Backward Classes (Kaka Kalelkar) Commission submitted in
March 1955 (the commission was appointed in January 1953), when efforts to
devise “positive and workable criteria” other than caste failed, the
government, in May 1961, decided not to draw up all-India lists of B.Cs and
extend reservation in its services to any groups other than the S.Cs and the
S.Ts. Consequently, in August 1961 it informed the States that while they had
the discretion to apply their own criteria, it would be better to apply
economic tests rather than go by caste. Subsequent attempts, particularly since
the 1970s, to extend reservation to B.Cs became politicised and resulted in
frequent caste clashes.
Once reservation for B.Cs began, the
political rhetoric on policy benefits further embittered the vicious nature of
caste in vote-bank politics, transmogrifying in the process the policies
formulated for implementation of the provisions. Pertinent to note here are
observations by the sociologist Andre Béteille.
Stating that the unanimous and
enthusiastic endorsement of the Mandal report by Parliament, on August 11,
1982, constitutes an important landmark in the history of contemporary India,
Béteille wrote a few days later: “If Parliament has acted in full awareness of
the likely consequences of its action, we are perhaps entering a new phase in
the reconstitution of Indian society. This recommendation may be no less
far-reaching in its scope than the one attempted by the new Constitution which
Indians fashioned for themselves on achieving independence ( The Backward Classes in Contemporary India, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1992, pages 10-18).”
Impact of Mandal report
It was only almost a decade later
that the Mandal report was partly implemented by V.P. Singh as Prime Minister
of the Janata Dal-led National Front government, mainly to upstage Deputy Prime
Minister Devi Lal. But V.P. Singh’s decision itself was an egregious political
abuse of his position as Prime Minister; for, much to the discomfiture of even
the National Front constituents, leave alone the opposition parties, the
notification on August 7, 1990, giving effect to the announcement made in
Parliament was abrupt, arbitrary and cavalier and a clear case of the use of
caste in the nation’s power play in the name of bringing about a casteless
society.
An unprecedented backlash followed,
with virtually the whole of northern India in the grip of a mass hysteria and
educated upper caste youth in urban areas dousing themselves with kerosene and
setting themselves on fire.
By the time Human Resource
Development Minister Arjun Singh, in 2006, announced reservation in education
for B.Cs, apparently to upstage Prime Minister Manmohan Singh if not Sonia
Gandhi, the fight was less in the streets and more in courts.
In the absence of an expansion of
opportunities for quality education and employment to match the increasing
demand for both, reservation was, as R.H. Tawney wrote, a cover-up for the
state’s failure to ensure equality in the sense in which Tawney perceived it,
that is, to ensure that “the whole of the rising generation, irrespective of
income or social position, grows up in an environment equally conducive to
health, enjoys equal opportunities of developing its powers by education, has
equal access, according to ability, to all careers, and is equally secure
against being crushed by the contingencies of life” (R.H. Tawney, Equality, 1952,
London, George Allen and Unwin Ltd).
The presence of a lackadaisical
judiciary with chaotic proliferation of jurisprudential literature on, among
other things, the nexus between caste and Constitution and caste and reservation,
and the failure of the emergence of a strong civil society, and of late the
rapid and reckless rise of crony capitalism have all confounded this dismal
situation.
Dismal in Tamil Nadu
The situation is particularly dismal
in the land of Periyar E.V. Ramasamy, founder of the Self-Respect Movement,
which encouraged inter-caste marriage, and the Dravidar Kazhagam, through which
he worked for the eradication of caste. Its society inciting caste orgy on
Dalits cannot be understood without understanding the deleterious consequences
of the State’s sectarian policies and politics.
From at least 1969, when M.
Karunanidhi became Chief Minister of the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK)
government (after the death of C.N. Annadurai, founder of the DMK who assumed
office as Chief Minister in 1967), the state in Tamil Nadu has failed in every
conceivable way to govern with democracy and secularism as its touchstones by
pandering to caste and communal considerations for political gain.
The large-scale vandalism unleashed
by Vanniyars on Dalits in Dharmapuri district on November 7, 2012, in which 268
homes were burned down, following the love marriage of a Dalit boy and a
Vanniyar girl, is only one of the dangerous consequences of this failure.
Dalits, who are listed as S.Cs in
the decennial Censuses, account for 19 per cent of Tamil Nadu’s population.
Unlike Vanniyars, they are a heterogeneous ensemble. Of the 76 S.Cs notified in
Tamil Nadu, five—Adi Dravidar, Pallar, Paraiyar, Chakkiliyar and Arunthathiyar—together
constitute 93.5 per cent of the State’s S.C. population. Adi Dravidars are
numerically the largest, constituting 45.6 per cent of the State’s S.C.
population. They are followed by Pallars (19.2 per cent), Paraiyars (15.7 per
cent), Chakkiliyars (6.6 per cent) and Arunthathiyars (6.5 per cent). Other
groups, with the exception of Madaris (2.8 per cent), have less than one per
cent population; of them, 35 have below 1,000 people. Among the major S.Cs,
Pallars have the highest (76 per cent) rural population, followed by Paraiyars
(73.1 per cent), Adi Dravidars (69.4 per cent), Chakkiliyars (67.9 per cent)
and Arunthathiyars (64.4 per cent).
These castes are concentrated in the
States’s northern, southern and western (Chakkiliyars and Arunthathiyars)
regions and their caste oppressors have traditionally been Vanniyars in the
north, Thevars and Maravars in the south and Goundars in the west. As Adi
Dravidar and Paraiyar are overlapping categories, together, as a single
category, they account for 61 per cent of Dalits; as such they should be far
more numerous in the north. Though they live in separate colonies, reflecting
the traditional spatial segregation of castes, they are still victims of
Vanniyars’ caste violence.
Atrocities are committed against
Dalits for several reasons. Among them are the persistence of the traditional
caste mould within which the oppressors still operate; jealousy and antipathy;
the realisation that in a State where governance is weak they can continue to
oppress the oppressed; and the fact that over the years Dalits have become
assertive and aspiring, conscious of their dignity, self-respect and human
rights, and economically prosperous, mainly through their own efforts in towns,
cities and even distant countries.
Dalits’ economic prosperity has, in
turn, improved their perception of their status in society as equal, if not
superior, to that of their traditional oppressors and changed their behaviour
accordingly. As a result, many Dalits are unwilling to perform their traditional
caste-based menial tasks and work as agricultural labourers on their
oppressors’ lands.
Vanniyar identity
Vanniyars, who account for about 12
per cent of the State’s population, are concentrated in northern Tamil Nadu and
have, unlike Dalits, only a few subdivisions. In their attempts at caste
mobility from the late 19th century, they forged a common identity and formed a
horizontal stretch. The Vanniyakula Kshatriya Maha Sangam (VKKMS) founded in
1888 was a high-water mark in Vanniyars’ attempts at mobilisation on caste
lines. It helped create a strong esprit de corps among members of the caste and
worked for their social mobility.
Unable to secure from the Congress
party any guarantee of representation in the services and local bodies
proportionate to their population, for which they had petitioned the government
(they played a major role in the formation of the Backward Classes League in
the 1930s for communal representation in government services), in the 1949
elections to the district boards they contested as independents and secured 22
of the 52 seats in South Arcot, defeating many Congress candidates.
Anticipating elections to the State Aassembly, a State-wide conference of the
VKKMS, convened in 1951, resolved that Vanniyars should contest the elections
in cooperation with the toiling masses, and for that effect was formed the
Tamil Nadu Toilers’ Party under the leadership of M.A. Manickavelu Naicker and
S.S. Ramaswamy Padayachi. This party soon split, with the Toilers’ Party of
Ramaswamy Padayachi remaining in South Arcot and Salem districts and the
Commonweal Party of Manickavelu Naicker in North Arcot and Chingleput
districts. In the elections held in 1952, the former won 19 seats and the
latter six.
Responding to the overtures of the
Congress, which failed to secure a majority in the State Assembly, first the
Commonweal Party and later the Toilers’ Party supported it in return for
ministerships for leaders of both parties in the eight-member Cabinet. With
this, both parties were dissolved, their members joined the Congress and the
leadership of the Vanniyars became moribund.
When the Vanniyar Sangam (not to be
confused with the VKKMS) founded in 1980 by Dr S. Ramadoss spearheaded, in the
late 1980s, agitations involving widespread vandalism and violence for
reservation of 20 per cent jobs and seats in educational institutions for
Vanniyars in the State and two per cent jobs in the Centre, the main victims of
its fury were Dalits though the protests were directed against the government.
The M.G. Ramachandran-led All India
Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) government refused to negotiate with
the Vanniyars when the agitation was on, but the violence, death and
devastation it left behind forced the government to review the reservation
issue.
Following MGR’s death in December
1987, the DMK Ministry that assumed office after the January 1989 elections
ordered compartmental reservation in fulfilment of its election promise. Of the
overall 50 per cent reservation for 201 communities, accounting for an
estimated 67 per cent of the State’s population, it set apart 20 per cent for
39 communities listed as Most Backward and 68 listed as denotified tribes,
which together accounted for about 36 per cent of the population. Though this
fell short of the Vanniyars’ demand, it came very close. As the largest
community among the Most Backward Classes listed, accounting for about 53 per
cent of their population and probably the least backward among them, the
Vanniyars have cornered the largest share of the benefits.
PMK struggle
The perceived success of the
Vanniyar agitation prompted Ramadoss to form the Pattali Makkal Katchi (PMK) in
1989, and the party had some sheen initially. But over the years it failed to
make effective use of electoral politics. When the Vanniyar Sangam spearheaded
the agitation, its main slogan was ‘Vanniyar ottu anniyarukillai’
(Vanniyar vote is not for non-Vanniyars). Even after developing a cadre base
and forming a political party Ramadoss did not outgrow this narrow sectarian
mindset and develop a national perspective. Unable and unwilling to democratise
himself and his party cadre and integrate them with non-Vanniyars, the PMK
persisted as a caste organisation. Predictably, the Vanniyar slogan rebounded
on the PMK, which the non-Vanniyars refashioned as ‘ Anniyar ottu Vanniyarukillai’ (non-Vanniyar vote is not for Vanniyars).
The PMK contested four Assembly
elections on its own, winning one seat in 1991 and four seats in 1996. Since
then, it has alternated between the AIADMK and the DMK as allies, walking in
and out of alliances of expediency, and failed to gain political credibility
and many political seats.
In the wake of his party’s poor
showing, Ramadoss’ desperately conjured up ideas, such as rotation of the post
of Chief Minister on an annual basis and a PMK nominee as Chief Minister of
Puducherry for two and a half years followed by an AIADMK nominee, were seen as
inane. He was desperate, if not to become Chief Minister immediately, at least
to remain politically visible in the shifting sands of Tamil Nadu politics and
continue to keep his head above the political quicksand in the State.
That led to his weird demand, in
2002, for the bifurcation of Tamil Nadu and the creation of a new State with 13
districts where Vanniyars constitute a sizeable proportion of the population.
His justification was that the Vanniyar community, which is predominant in 13
of the 29 districts in the State, has yet to have its member as Chief Minister.
His argument was that “if Vanniyars remain united we can definitely capture
power in 2006; let 25 youths from each village come with me, I will convert
Tamil Nadu into a land ruled by Vanniyars.” The bifurcation demand and the
hullabaloo it caused helped Ramadoss remain in the limelight for some time.
Like other fringe parties, the PMK
was vocal in its support for the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam even after
its ban in India. In its “Tamils’ right to live” conference in Chennai in
September 1992, the PMK took out a rally at which slogans were raised
glorifying Dhanu, the assassin of Rajiv Gandhi. Chief Minister Jayalalithaa
wrote to Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao seeking a ban on the PMK. It is a
mystery that she did not put Ramadoss in jail just as she did Marumalarchi Dravida
Munnetra Kazhagam (DMDK) leader Vaiko, on July 11, 2002, and Tamil Nationalist
Movement president P. Nedumaran, on April 13, 2002.
The PMK was also in league with the
Tamil Nationalist Movement in supporting the formation of a Tamil Eelam. At a
rally taken out in support of Sri Lankan Tamils in Chennai on May 21, 2009,
political leaders, in particular Ramadoss, Vaiko, Nedumaran, CPI State
secretary D. Pandian and his senior colleague leader R. Nallakannu, came
together under the banner of the Sri Lankan Tamils’ Protection Movement and
called for the intervention of the United Nations to protect thousands of
homeless Tamils and unarmed civilians in Sri Lanka. They also demanded that the
international community declare Sri Lanka a “Terror State” and that the
Government of India stop all aid to the island nation. By that time, the LTTE
had been decimated. While the Eelam issue is still alive, Ramadoss does not
seem to have gained any political mileage from it.
That raises a larger issue. While
the Tamil protection movement and Tamil nationalism in Sri Lanka are still
crucial, are they relevant in Tamil Nadu, where Tamil, if not its use, is
recognised as a classical language, and which recognition Chief Minister
Karunanidhi celebrated grandiloquently in the Chemmozhi Maanadu? Besides, why
another Tamil nationalism within the nationalist Tamil Nadu?
There are two possible answers to
this. In Tamil Nadu, “Tamil protection” appears as the moral diktat of Ramadoss
and Tol. Thirumavalavan, leader of the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) of
a section of Dalits, who despite being sworn enemies came together on this
issue and on Tamil nationalism. Though these two terms (Tamil protection and
Tamil nationalism) are used separately, on occasion they overlap. These two
leaders wanted to protect what they perceived as Tamil culture and fight
affronts to it; and without culture there cannot be nationalism. Their violent
take on actors such as Vijaykanth, Rajnikanth, Kamal Hasan, and Khushboo on
what they considered anti-Tamil in films, such as smoking, drinking and the use
of English, are in the context of both culture and nationalism.
Some of their campaigns were
laudable—those against smoking and drinking and for the introduction of
prohibition and the closing of the money-spinning TASMAC (Tamil Nadu State
Marketing Corporation) liquor shops, which have ruined families, particularly
of the poor. But the Tamil protectionism and nationalism of the duo are in no
way comparable to the Tamil separatism and cultural movement campaign of
Periyar and Anna some four decades ago (box on page 41), which culminated in
Anna’s demand in his first speech in Parliament for a separate Dravida Nadu and
in its sudden end after Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru treated such demands as
secessionist.
While the PMK leadership—Ramadoss
and his coterie—has not helped its own community switch from its caste-centric
atavism and its antipathy to India’s constitutional and democratic ethos and
praxis, it has over the years earned the dubious distinction of being vile. The
Tamil Protection Movement, too, is largely in this dubious category. Hence, if
Ramadoss wants to remain relevant in politics he has to give up his outlandish
ideas about language, culture and society and his posturing as an extraconstitutional
authority.
Khushboo controversy
When Ramadoss was in desperate need
of a new issue, actor Khushboo’s views on premarital sex and virginity,
published in a Tamil magazine in September 2005, came in handy. The PMK and the
Tamil Protection Movement unleashed agitations against Khushboo and prompted or
coerced people to file criminal cases against her, forcing the beleaguered
woman to appear [or surrender] before the courts.
Quashing the 23 criminal cases
against Khushboo on April 28, 2010, a Supreme Court Bench blamed the PMK for
the fabricated cases:
“As we have already noted, most of
the complainants are associated with the PMK, a political party which is active
in the State of Tamil Nadu. This fact does add weight to the suggestion that
the impugned complaints have been filed with the intention of gaining undue
political mileage.... We are of the view that the institution of the numerous
criminal complaints against the appellant was done in a mala fide manner.... We
must be mindful that the initiation of a criminal trial is a process which
carries an implicit degree of coercion and it should not be triggered by false
and frivolous complaints, amounting to harassment and humiliation to the
accused.”
After the Khushboo controversy, the
PMK’s most contemptible act was undoubtedly the Dharmapuri caste violence.
Ramadoss demanded a ban on marriages between Dalits and caste-Hindus and a
dilution of the S.C./S.T. (Prevention of Atrocities) Act. To achieve this he
even sought to bring together leaders of various “intermediate castes” on a
common platform.
Major political parties came out
strongly against Ramadoss. Vaiko, among others, said it was unbecoming of a
leader of a political party to ridicule inter-caste marriages and the modern
dress code of Dalit youth, who sought to secure equal status in society.
Despite the widespread condemnation
of his moves, Ramadoss floated a new forum of intermediate caste groups in
Madurai on December 20, 2012, to prevent inter-caste marriages and to fight for
amendments to the S.C./S.T. Act. At a meeting attended by 51 non-Dalit outfits
the forum was named “All Community Forum to Fight for the Amendments in
Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act and
Prevent Inter-caste Fake Love Marriages”.
The same day several members of the
students’ wing of the VCK took to the street in Madurai semi-clad to highlight
the PMK leader’s remarks that Dalit youths were trying to entice young girls of
other castes by sporting jeans, trousers, T-shirts and sneakers. The party’s
State deputy general secretary, V. Kaniamuthan, remarked that Ramadoss had
belittled the girls of his own caste by claiming that they would fall for this
attire; that he probably did not like Dalit youth wearing such dresses and
wanted them to sport loin cloth; and that their protest was to highlight this
aspect.
More than 60 years after the
Constitution came into force, if Tamil Nadu is still plagued by the coarsest
forms of casteist, exclusivist and sectarian politics and violent caste
clashes, the reasons are partly in the functioning of the judiciary.
Judiciary’s role
The Supreme Court’s order says 50
per cent is the quota limit and the emphasis is on justice. The inclusion of
the Tamil Nadu Reservation Act of 1993 (for 69 per cent reservation without
elimination of the creamy layer) in the 9th Schedule in 1994 should have
received utmost importance and the immediate attention of the Court, as the
inclusion involved questions concerning the fundamental rights of citizens; and
justice delayed is justice denied.
After writ petitions filed before
the apex court every year since 1994, in 2007 a nine-judge Bench examined the
scope of the 9th Schedule. It ruled that all laws passed, even if they are in
the 9th Schedule, have to pass through the basic structure doctrine and
directed that the petitions/appeals be placed for hearing before a three-judge
Bench. But the three-judge Bench has not materialised even five years after the
ruling. That raises the question of vital judicial disconnect.
In Andhra Pradesh, the Court has not
allowed reservation for B.Cs based on religion and subclassification of S.Cs,
whereas Tamil Nadu did both a few years ago and the Court has not raised any
objection.
In 2010, the Court directed the
Tamil Nadu government to place quantifiable data before the State’s Backward
Classes Commission and allowed the State’s existing reservation for one year.
Its report was seen to be highly misleading. Though the court may be aware of
this report and its immediate approval by the government, the Tamil Nadu
Reservation Act is still in the 9th Schedule.
As differential approaches and
decisions of the judiciary on the same issues in different States are blatantly
discriminatory, and caste is often the bone of contention in reservation cases,
the judiciary cannot absolve itself of some of the blame for the caste demon
entering politics and governance.
If Ramadoss and persons of his ilk
stoke the embers of caste conflict, it is because they are emboldened by the
judiciary’s lackadaisical approach, lack of continuity in pursuing cases of
public and constitutional concern to their logical end.
Dalit unity as a class
As for the Dalits’ plight, the price
they have paid for not being assertive and not participating actively in
mainstream society and politics is denial of the benefits of the constitutional
provisions even after six decades and the State’s failure to implement
effectively the Prevention of Atrocities Act. It is time they mobilised
themselves as a class, burying their inter-caste differences, to identify the
fault lines and correct them speedily. The political climate in Tamil Nadu is
ideal for this. Political outfits such as Puthiya Thamizhagam and the VCK
should form an umbrella organisation of all Dalit castes with a clearly worked
out agenda for Dalit emancipation and development. That Dalits account for
about one-fifth of the State’s population itself is an important factor that
will work in favour of such a venture.
As social inclusion cannot come
about without political inclusion, and given the fact that the two Dravidian
parties, the AIADMK and the DMK, have not helped Dalits for such inclusion,
they should be on their own as a solid bloc for inclusive politics and
political action. And as they progress they should leave behind their bitter
past and see society from the victors’ and not the victims’ perspective.
P. RADHAKRISHNAN
P. Radhakrishnan was Professor of
Sociology at the Madras Institute of Development Studies and is a media
commentator on public affairs. His email is: prk1949@gmail.com
Jan. 12-25, 2013 frontline