Caste Hindus lobbied the Constituent Assembly to defend untouchability as a ‘religious right’

 

Caste Hindus lobbied the Constituent Assembly to defend untouchability as a ‘religious right’

Rohit De, Ornit Shani

 

The Indian constitution’s radical steps to abolish untouchability and provide for affirmative action have been portrayed as inevitable and has often been attributed to the benevolence of the upper-caste leadership of the Constituent Assembly. But the energy, fury and nature of demands from dalit political groups show that these were achieved through their organised struggle. Figures like Dr Ambedkar played a critical role in the formal constitution-making process, but his actions reflected a wider consensus among dalits across India and were supported by active mobilisation on the ground.

Upper-caste Hindus, too, were anxious about the coming constitutional order, albeit for different reasons. As a politically dominant, yet demographically small group, they recognised the potential threat that the universal franchise posed to their power. Orthodox upper-caste groups, in particular, began to conceive of themselves as minorities who needed constitutional guarantees in the face of a coming electoral democracy. So much so, that some felt they were being persecuted by the ‘heavy majority of the entire nation armed’ with the help of ‘their familiar but irreligious kith and kin’. They sent multiple petitions, presenting themselves as Sanatani Hindus or Orthodox Hindus. In the archive that survived, letters from orthodox upper-caste Hindus demanding minority protection outnumber representations from every other minority community. 

The question for orthodox upper-caste groups was to what extent the democratic transformation could be contained. Their initial responses rejected democracy and republican government altogether. Those vested in religious authority demanded a return to an imagined past where they would be governed by Hindu scriptures. The Shankaracharya of Dwarka, one of the four preeminent heads of Advaita Vedanta tradition of Hinduism, wrote from his holy seat at Dwarka Sharda Peeth demanding that the Indian constitution ‘be moulded on the ancient and long established political ideals of Dharm Rajya and Ram Rajya’ and that there be no interference in religious practices by either the executive or legislature. In all matters concerning Hindu religious and cultural interests, the state should be guided by learned scholars appointed by religious heads and associations. What would such a constitution look like?

The only proposal to elaborate this type of system arrived from Prof J. B. Durkal on behalf of the All India Dharma Sangh, an organisation that sought to represent orthodox Hindus. The All India Dharma Sangh Constitution Committee had met in Delhi in February 1944, where members drafted a constitution on the principles of a‘theocratic basis of state’ rather than the ‘will of the people’, a monarchical form of government instead of a‘party dictatorship’, a rule of principles instead of numbers. It provided for a slow transfer of power overseen by the British viceroy to a confederation of Indian states headed by a Chamber of Princes, authorised advisory assemblies (rather than parliaments) to express opinion on secular matters, created communal boards for all faiths to protect the rights of religious communities and replaced secular education with religious education. Prof Durkal’s scholarship had been endorsed by the Shankaracharya of Puri, another leading Hindu pontiff. Dhurkal had warned against a Constituent Assembly dominated by the Congress, praised the efforts of the Muslim League in resisting and challenging the Congress and argued that independence should not lead to democracy.

However, an overwhelming number of upper-caste individuals and associations, who now conceived of themselves as a minority, drew on the vocabulary of liberal constitutional rights, rather than on scriptural authority, to shore up their privileges and maintain the status quo. Take, for example, the right to religious freedom. Previous scholarship has claimed that religious freedom was most ‘prominently invoked’ by Muslim and Christian representatives within the Constituent Assembly. While this finding is accurate for the debates conducted in the assembly itself, the majority of letters to the Constituent Assembly that invoked religious freedom came from upper-caste Hindus who protested against social reform and the abolition of untouchability on liberal grounds. In a ten-page memorandum titled ‘The Social Structure of India & the Power of Legislation’, K. V. Sundaresa Iyer, a Brahmin lawyer from Madras, suggested that the constitution should ‘provides [sic] a certain amount of immunity and protection for communal customs and culture, from unjust statutory interference, every community will thereby be assured of its “stan” notionally, if not geographically’. Paradoxically, he made claims based on individual rights to protect the right of a community. Thus, he argued, ‘where is individual freedom if Harijans [dalits] must be received and served in all hotels?’ And ‘What is the justification for the Government to step into’ the field of inter-dining, or dowry, which is ‘a purely personal and economic question’? Mr Iyer exhorted the members of the Constituent Assembly to ‘realise that they are now supplying arms to future legislatures. Now is the time for them to see that the these [sic] arms will not be used against the people’.

The Sri Vaishnava Siddhanta Sabha, a sectarian Hindu organisation, was so persistent in their recurring demands, writing consistently to all members of the Constituent Assembly, that ultimately, the president of the Assembly gave them a special opportunity to place their view before the Sub-committee on Fundamental Rights at a meeting led by K. M. Munshi, a Brahmin, a Vaishnavite and a member of the Assembly. Despite this meeting, the Sabha persisted, arguing that Hindu-elected politicians cannot decide over ‘ritualistic portion’ of religion. They hectored Hindu politicians and members of the Constituent Assembly with follow-up letters asking them ‘How were you born and brought up? How many times have you performed your Sandhya (daily purification rituals)? How many hours have you devoted to the study of rituals?’ They challenged laws throwing open Hindu temples to all castes, asserting that temples were never intended to be a public space but meant for a specific purpose, guided by rules about purity and pollution. They argued for the right to preserve their religious obligations and to practice untouchability on the grounds of ‘justice, fairness, freedom of thought and freedom of religion’. Untouchability in their view, was similar to being ‘born blind, deaf and dumb’, which was a result of their previous karmic sins, and could not be resolved by law. They drafted an article on ‘full religious freedom’ that would be applicable as a universal principle to all faiths. The Delhi-based group’s statements were then amplified by endorsements sent in the form of telegrams and letters from Hindu religious figures across India.

Upper castes resisted the abolition of untouchability, which they saw as affecting a range of social and religious practices. The Hindu Madar Kazhagam (Hindu Women’s Association) at Kumbakonam attempted to explain the distinction between ‘communal’ untouchability in public areas, which they conceded was objectionable since it ‘wounded the self-respect of some sections’, and ‘religious untouchability’, which was practiced by all castes. They argued that religious rituals, such as funerals or menstrual cycles of women, rendered certain persons temporarily untouchable. To criminalise the practice of untouchability, they argued, constituted ‘direct interference with religion’.

Recognising their smaller numbers, various orthodox Hindu groups attempted to mobilise public opinion, holding conferences and large and small meetings. Two weeks after the Constituent Assembly convened in Delhi, the All India Varnashram Swarjaya Sangh held its annual session in Bezwada, where the organisation passed resolutions demanding a government on ‘principles laid down in ancient Indian political works’ and ‘Hindu political science’. They deplored the absence of ‘Sanatani Hindus’ from the Constituent Assembly and argued that the body was the ‘offspring of the imperialistic British government’. Within a month, however, both the tenor and content of their arguments underwent a drastic change. 

This excerpt from ‘Assembling India’s Constitution: A New Democratic History’ by Rohit De and Ornit Shani has been published with permission from Penguin Random House India.

https://theprint.in/pageturner/excerpt/caste-hindus-constituent-assembly-untouchability/2803246/ 

Courtesy: The Print