Revisiting Ambedkar’s Critique of Muslims
V A Mohamad Ashrof
12/12/2025
This paper undertakes a critical re-evaluation of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s
seminal critique of Indian Muslims as articulated in his 1940 treatise,
Pakistan or the Partition of India. While Ambedkar is rightfully celebrated as
the architect of the Indian Constitution and the crusader against caste
Hinduism, his scathing assessment of Islamic sociology and history remains a
point of contention, often misappropriated by majoritarian political forces.
This study argues that while Ambedkar’s sociological indictment regarding caste
stratification and resistance to reform within the Muslim community was—and
remains—empirically accurate, his theological and historical conclusions
require revision. By deploying a tri-fold methodology—utilizing Quranic
exegesis to counter charges of theological insularity, subaltern historiography
(specifically the work of K.N. Panikkar) to re-examine the Malabar Rebellion,
and the sociological lens of Anand Teltumbde to address the Pasmanda
question—this paper establishes a framework for a reading Ambedkar in fresh
light. It posits that a synthesis of Ambedkar’s Prabuddha ethos and the Quranic
concept of Adl (Justice) offer the only viable pathway against the “calamity”
of majoritarian hegemony.
The Ethical Cosmos of B.R. Ambedkar
The philosophical architecture of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar cannot be reduced to
a mere legalistic framework or a political strategy for the upliftment of the
Untouchables. It is, fundamentally, a profound ethical system rooted in the
triumvirate of liberty, equality, and fraternity. While contemporary political
discourse often traces these ideals to the Enlightenment and the French
Revolution, Ambedkar explicitly disavowed this Western genealogy. In a move
that was both radical and restorative, he rooted his philosophy in the
indigenous spiritual soil of India—specifically, the Dhamma of the Buddha. As
he asserted, “My philosophy has roots in religion and not in political science.
I have derived them from the teachings of my Master, the Buddha” (Ahir, p.158).
For Ambedkar, the distinction between the secular and the spiritual was
not one of antagonism but of function. He posited that “religion—in the sense
of spirituality—is essential for the progress of mankind” (Ambedkar, Philosophy
of Hinduism, p.22). In his view, religion serves as the moral foundation of a
society’s collective conscience, acting as the arbiter of social ethics.
Consequently, the validity of any religious system is contingent upon its
utility to human welfare. Ambedkar established a rigorous metric for this
evaluation: any theology that fails to uphold equality, justice, fraternity,
and human dignity is rendered morally obsolete and socially hypocritical.
It was through this uncompromising ethical lens that Ambedkar
deconstructed the graded inequality of caste Hinduism and the exclusionary
ideology of Hindutva. He dismantled the Manusmriti not out of malice, but out
of a desire for a society based on reason. However, his intellectual rigor was
impartial; he applied the same diagnostic scalpel to the Muslim community. In
his seminal 1940 treatise, Pakistan or the Partition of India, Ambedkar offered
a scathing critique of Indian Muslims, identifying sociological stagnation,
political insularity, and a resistance to reform as significant barriers to
national integration.
This volume seeks to revisit Ambedkar’s critique not to dismiss it, nor
to apologize for the failures of the Muslim community, but to engage with it
dialectically. The thesis proposed herein is that while Ambedkar’s criticisms
were largely accurate regarding the sociological reality of Indian Muslims in
the 1940s—and indeed, remain relevant to the internal reform needed today—these
realities represent a deviation from the theological core of Islam.
Furthermore, regarding his historical critique of the Malabar Rebellion, this
work argues that Ambedkar relied on colonial and elite-nationalist archives
that obscured the subaltern, anti-imperial nature of the uprising. By
synthesizing the sociological insights of Anand Teltumbde, the historiography
of K.N. Panikkar, and a direct exegesis of the Quran, this work aims to lay the
foundation for a “Civilizational Alliance” between Ambedkarites and Muslims,
grounded in shared values of justice (Adl) and fraternity (Maitri).
Deconstructing the Six Critiques
To engage with Ambedkar’s assessment, one must first understand the
gravity of his charges. In Pakistan or the Partition of India, Ambedkar
articulated six major criticisms that painted a picture of a community
retreating into a “closed corporation.” These were not the casual observations
of a bystander but the frustrations of a statesman seeking a unified,
democratic ethic.
1. Insular Brotherhood
Ambedkar argued that the Islamic concept of brotherhood is not universal
but strictly confined to the Ummah (community of believers). He famously wrote,
“The brotherhood of Islam is not the universal brotherhood of man. It is
brotherhood of Muslims for Muslims only… For those who are outside the
corporation, there is nothing but contempt and enmity” (Ambedkar, Pakistan,
p.340). This critique strikes at the heart of democratic living, suggesting
that Muslims are theoretically incapable of viewing a non-Muslim as a civic
equal.
2. Exclusivism
He contended that Muslims claim exclusive access to spiritual truth,
which inherently creates a barrier to a pluralistic democratic life. If
salvation is the monopoly of one group, equality becomes a theological
impossibility. For Ambedkar, a claim to “finality” of truth was the enemy of
reason and social osmosis.
3. Resistance to Reform
Ambedkar observed a profound stagnation within the community, noting
that Indian Muslim leadership displayed a “complete absence of the desire for
change” and a hostility toward social reform that was more rigid than that of
conservative Hindus (Ambedkar, Pakistan, p.253). He lamented that while Turkey
under Atatürk was modernizing, Indian Islam remained frozen in feudalism.
4. Social Stratification (Caste)
Despite the theoretical egalitarianism of Islam, Ambedkar highlighted
the presence of a caste-like hierarchy among Indian Muslims—specifically the
divide between the Ashraf (foreign descent/upper caste) and the Ajlaf
(indigenous converts), along with the Arzal (degraded castes). He noted, “The
Muslims have all the social evils of the Hindus and something more” (Ambedkar,
Pakistan, p.230).
5. Subjugation of Women
He offered a stinging critique of the treatment of Muslim women,
particularly the practice of purdah (seclusion) and the burqa. He argued that
these practices caused physical degeneration and spiritual atrophy, rendering
women second-class citizens and preventing the socialization of the younger
generation (Ambedkar, Pakistan, p.230-233).
6. The Malabar Rebellion (1921)
Finally, Ambedkar characterized the Mappila Rebellion as a communal
outburst of “Muslim fanaticism” primarily targeting Hindus, describing it as a
“Jehad” rather than a nationalist uprising (Ambedkar, Pakistan, p.163).
These critiques form the bedrock of the “Ambedkarite” scepticism toward
Muslims often exploited by right-wing forces today. However, a scholarly
re-evaluation reveals that these points act as a mirror: reflecting the
practice of Muslims while often obscuring the principles of the Quran.
Universalism vs. Insular Brotherhood
The gap between Ambedkar’s sociological observation and Islamic theology
is most visible in the concepts of brotherhood and pluralism. While Ambedkar
correctly identified the “insular” behaviour of the Muslim community of his
time—a community circling the wagons in the face of political uncertainty—he
did not engage with the Quranic text, which stands in direct opposition to such
insularity.
Ambedkar’s charge of “Insular Brotherhood” suggests that Islam is
inherently tribal. Sociologically, this is often true; practices like Zakat
(charity) are frequently distributed only within the community by conservative
clergy. However, this is a violation of the Quranic mandate.
The Quran frames the Muslim community not as a tribe, but as an ethical
vanguard for humanity. The Quran declares: “You are the best community raised
for humankind (li-n-nas)—you enjoin what is right, forbid what is wrong, and
believe in God” (Quran 3:110). The preposition li-n-nas (“for the people” or
“for humankind”) is pivotal. It implies that the raison d’etre of the Muslim
requires service to humanity at large, not merely self-preservation. The “best
community” is defined by its utility to the world, not its domination over it.
Furthermore, the Quranic concept of charity is boundless. When listing
the beneficiaries of Zakat in the Quran, the text includes “the poor, the
needy, the indebted, the traveller” (Q.9:60). It does not qualify these
categories with faith. Similarly, the Quran explicitly commands charity to
“parents, relatives, orphans, and the needy” regardless of their creed
(Q.2:215).
The existential journey proposed by the Quran is the transition from
tribalism to universalism. It acknowledges diversity as a divine design: “O
humankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples
and tribes that you may know one another (li-ta’arafu). Indeed, the most noble
of you in the sight of God is the most righteous” (Q.49:13). Here, the “other”
is not an enemy to be conquered but a variation to be understood. The criterion
for nobility is Taqwa (God-consciousness/righteousness), not membership in the
“corporation” of Islam. Thus, the “Insular Brotherhood” Ambedkar criticized is
a sociological corruption, not a theological tenet.
The Divine Will in Diversity
Ambedkar’s second critique—that Muslims claim exclusive truth—is
contradicted by the Quran’s affirmation of religious pluralism. The Quran does
not envision a monolithic world; rather, it validates the existence of multiple
paths to the Divine.
The Quran asserts: “For each community We have appointed a law and a
path. If God had willed, He could have made you one community… So, compete in
doing good” (Quran 5:48). This verse fundamentally alters the nature of
inter-religious interaction from one of conquest to one of “competitive
righteousness.” The divine will explicitly prevent a theological monopoly.
Moreover, the Quran explicitly extends salvation beyond the borders of
Islam: “Indeed, those who believe and those who are Jews and Christians and
Sabians—whoever believes in God and the Last Day and does righteousness—will
have their reward with their Lord” (Q.2:62). This theological pluralism aligns
with Ambedkar’s own desire for a society based on reason and mutual respect.
The exclusivism practiced by the clergy is a historical construct, often born
of political empire, which obscures the Quranic vision of a spiritual
democracy.
Caste, Gender, and the Reformist Deficit
Having established the theological baseline, we must address the
“internal” critiques—Resistance to Reform, Social Stratification, and the
Status of Women. Here, Ambedkar’s analysis is analytically precise and remains
a necessary mirror for the Indian Muslim community.
Ambedkar was right: “If slavery has gone, caste among Musalmans has
remained” (Ambedkar, Pakistan, p.230). The Ashraf-Ajlaf divide is a caste
system in all but name, replicating the Brahmanical hierarchy of purity and
pollution. Anand Teltumbde notes that the Ashraf elite have historically used
the “myth of the monolithic Muslim community” to secure their own interests
while marginalizing the indigenous Pasmanda (Dalit/Backward) Muslims
(Teltumbde, p.62).
This stratification is a direct assault on the Prophet’s Last Sermon,
which proclaimed, “An Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab, nor a white over
a black… except by piety.” The persistence of caste among Muslims is the point
of greatest convergence for a Dalit-Muslim alliance. It requires the Muslim
community to admit that while their theology is egalitarian, their sociology is
Brahmanical. The denial of this reality by Muslim leadership validates
Ambedkar’s accusation of hypocrisy.
Ambedkar measured progress by the status of women. His critique of
purdah was a critique of the seclusion that denies women agency. While
patriarchal interpretations have dominated Islamic jurisprudence, the Quranic
text offers a liberatory framework. It establishes men and women as Awliya
(protectors/friends) of one another (Q.9:71) and celebrates the political
sovereignty of the Queen of Sheba (Bilqis), who rules a democratic court
(Q.27:22-44). The reformist agenda today must be to reclaim this Quranic feminism
against the patriarchal cultural accretions Ambedkar rightly condemned.
The Malabar Rebellion—Myth, Memory, and Colonial Archives
Of Dr. Ambedkar’s six criticisms against the Muslim community, none is
as historically fraught or politically weaponized as his assessment of the
Malabar Rebellion (also known as the Mappila Rebellion) of 1921. In Pakistan or
the Partition of India, Ambedkar offered a harrowing characterization of the
uprising, describing it not as a nationalist struggle but as a communal
eruption. He wrote, “The blood-curdling atrocities committed by the Moplas in
Malabar against the Hindus were indescribable… It was not a Hindu-Moslem riot.
It was a Jehad” (Ambedkar, Pakistan, p.163).
Ambedkar’s interpretation has since been canonized by the Hindu Right to
argue that Muslim political mobilization is inherently anti-national and
genocidal. However, a rigorous, progressive, and secular historiography demands
that we excavate the socio-economic and anti-imperial foundations of this
event. To accept Ambedkar’s judgment on this specific point without scrutiny is
to ignore the epistemic limitations of the sources available to him in the
1940s—primarily colonial administrative records and elite nationalist
accounts—and to overlook the subaltern reality of the Mappila peasantry.
To understand the violence of 1921, one must first understand the
structural violence of the preceding century. The rebellion did not occur in a
vacuum of religious fanaticism; it erupted from the pressure cooker of colonial
agrarian extraction.
K.N. Panikkar, in his magisterial work Against Lord and State,
demonstrates that the conflict was fundamentally rooted in the land tenure
system of Malabar. The British colonial administration, seeking stable revenue,
had solidified the absolute property rights of the Janmis (landlords), who were
predominantly Nambudiri Brahmins and Nair elites. In contrast, the
Verumpattamdars (tenants-at-will) and agricultural labourers were
overwhelmingly Mappila Muslims and lower-caste Hindus (Thiyyas and Cherumars)
(Panikkar, p.75-80).
Under British law, the Janmis were granted the power of arbitrary
eviction (melcharth) and rack-renting. The Mappila peasantry faced a dual
oppression: the economic exploitation by the feudal Janmi and the political
coercion of the British police state. Panikkar argues, “The Mappila peasantry
was caught in the web of the landlord’s oppression and the state’s coercion…
The religious ideology provided the necessary solidarity for the peasantry to
organize against their exploiters” (Panikkar, p.105). Thus, when the rebellion
broke out, the targets were not “Hindus” qua Hindus, but the symbols of feudal
and colonial authority—the Janmi manor houses (illams), land records, and
police stations. The violence was vertical (class-based), attacking the
hierarchy of power, before it became horizontal (communal).
Why did Ambedkar view this class struggle as a “Jehad”? The answer lies
in the success of the colonial narrative. The British administration had a
vested interest in framing the rebellion as “Muslim fanaticism” for two
strategic reasons. First, it delegitimized the genuine grievances of the
peasantry, absolving the colonial state of its role in creating the famine-like
conditions. Second, and more crucially, it served to fracture the burgeoning
Hindu-Muslim unity that had been forged during the Khilafat and Non-Cooperation
Movements (Teltumbde, p.115).
Anand Teltumbde notes that Ambedkar, writing his critique two decades
after the event, relied on the “official” narrative which highlighted Mappila
brutality while erasing British state terror (Teltumbde, p.25). The colonial
state committed atrocities of a genocidal scale: over 2,337 Mappilas were
killed, 1,652 wounded, and 45,404 imprisoned (Panikkar, p.208). The infamous
“Wagon Tragedy” of November 1921, where 67 Mappila prisoners were suffocated to
death in a sealed railway goods wagon, remains a stark testament to British
brutality—a detail often absents from the “fanaticism” discourse. By focusing
solely on the Mappila violence, the colonial archive—and by extension,
Ambedkar’s critique—rendered the state’s violence invisible.
Scholars must approach Ambedkar’s critique of the Malabar Rebellion with
what might be termed “critical empathy.” Ambedkar was not wrong about the fact
of violence against Hindus; he was arguably mistaken about its nature. He
correctly identified the trauma inflicted upon the region, but his analysis
lacked the materialist framework to see the agrarian engine driving the
“religious” vehicle.
Today, revisiting this critique requires us to reject the binary of
“Nationalist Hero” vs. “Communal Fanatic.” The Mappila rebel was an
anti-imperialist combatant driven by hunger and dignity, whose resistance was
inevitably colored by the religious language available to him. To dismiss the
entire rebellion as a “Jehad,” as Ambedkar did, is to inadvertently validate
the colonial logic he otherwise spent his life dismantling.
The Politics of Misappropriation and “Selective Amnesia”
In the contemporary socio-political landscape of India, Dr. Ambedkar’s
critique of Muslims has been excavated from its 1940s context and weaponized to
serve a majoritarian agenda. Political forces antithetical to Ambedkar’s
broader philosophy of equality frequently cite Pakistan or the Partition of
India to justify the marginalization of Muslims, arguing that Ambedkar viewed
the community as fundamentally “anti-national.”
This misappropriation relies on a deliberate “selective amnesia.” It
amplifies Ambedkar’s critique of the Malabar Rebellion and Muslim insularity
while silencing his far more extensive and systemic critique of Hinduism’s
graded inequality. As Anand Teltumbde incisively argues, the project to
“saffronize” Ambedkar requires stripping him of his radical anti-caste core and
reducing him to a mere critic of Islamic separatism (Teltumbde, p.14).
It is crucial to distinguish between Ambedkar’s intent and the current
usage of his text. Ambedkar’s critique was a “constructive warning” issued to a
community he believed was retreating into feudal stagnation. He wanted the
Muslim community to reform itself so it could be a robust partner in the
democratic project. He did not write his critique to provide a warrant for the
persecution of Muslims in a Hindu Rashtra.
On the contrary, Ambedkar explicitly identified the establishment of a
“Hindu Raj” as the ultimate peril. His famous declaration remains the
definitive rebuttal to those who appropriate him: “If Hindu Raj does become a
fact, it will, no doubt, be the greatest calamity for this country… It is a
menace to liberty, equality and fraternity. On that account it is incompatible
with democracy. Hindu Raj must be prevented at any cost” (Ambedkar, Pakistan,
p.358). Therefore, any political reading that uses Ambedkar to justify Muslim
exclusion while simultaneously advancing the cause of “Hindu Raj” acts in
direct violation of Ambedkar’s stated political will.
The defence against this misappropriation lies in the Constitution
itself. Ambedkar’s Constitution is a document of “Constitutional Morality”—a
secular, pluralistic covenant. Interestingly, this resonates with the Islamic
concept of Mithaq (Covenant), specifically the Constitution of Medina drafted
by the Prophet Muhammad. That document established a political community
(Ummah) comprised of Muslims, Jews, and Pagans, all granted equal rights and
mutual defense obligations.
A re-evaluation of Ambedkar’s legacy suggests that the Indian
Constitution is the modern Mithaq for Indian Muslims. Adhering to it is not
merely a civic duty but, from a Quranic perspective, a religious obligation to
honour one’s contracts (Uqud) (Quran 5:1). Thus, the “anti-national” charge
Ambedkar feared is nullified when Muslims reclaim the Constitution as their
sacred covenant of citizenship.
The Pasmanda Bridge and the Civilizational Alliance
How do we move from critique to construction? The re-evaluation of
Ambedkar’s criticisms provides the blueprint for a “Civilizational Alliance”
between the Dalits (Ambedkarites) and the Muslims. This alliance cannot be a
superficial electoral pact; it must be a deep social transformation.
The most formidable barrier to this alliance has been the caste
denialism of the Ashraf Muslim elite. Ambedkar’s critique of caste among
Muslims was accurate and remains urgent. The rise of the Pasmanda Muslim
Movement (representing the Dalit and Backward Caste Muslims) vindicates
Ambedkar’s sociology.
For a genuine alliance, the hegemony of the Ashraf leadership—which
often prioritizes emotional issues (like the preservation of conservative
personal laws) over material issues (education, jobs, security)—must be
challenged. The Pasmanda movement offers a bridge: it shares the “Dalit
experience” of caste oppression and the “Muslim experience” of religious
marginalization.
An Ambedkarite-Muslim alliance must be led by the subalterns of both
communities. As Teltumbde notes, “The Dalit-Muslim unity is not a unity of
religion, but a unity of the proletariat” (Teltumbde, p.145). The Muslim
community must institutionally acknowledge the existence of caste and apply the
Quranic egalitarianism (Quran 49:13) to dismantle it, thereby fulfilling
Ambedkar’s demand for reform.
At a philosophical level, the alliance finds ground in the convergence
of Maitri (Buddhist Loving-Kindness) and Rahma (Islamic Mercy).
• Ambedkar’s
Maitri: For Ambedkar, fraternity was not just a political concept but a
spiritual one—Maitri—which extends benevolence to all beings.
• Quranic Rahma:
The Quran describes the Prophet as Rahmatan li-l-Alamin (A Mercy to the Worlds)
(Q.21:107).
Both traditions reject the “survival of the fittest” (the logic of
caste/capitalism) in favor of the “survival of the weakest” (the logic of
care/social justice). This ethical convergence allows for a shared language of
resistance against hate.
The Mirror and the Lamp
This study has traversed the landscape of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s critique
of Muslims, subjecting it to the twin lights of Quranic theology and
post-colonial historiography.
1. On Insularity and
Exclusivism: We found that while Ambedkar correctly diagnosed the sociological
isolation of the Indian Muslim community, his critique does not apply to the
theological core of Islam, which is radically universalist (Quran 3:110) and
pluralist (Quran 5:48).
2. On Social Evils
(Caste/Gender): We validated Ambedkar’s critique of caste (Ashraf-Ajlaf) and
gender injustice as irrefutable sociological realities. These are internal
betrayals of the Quranic ethos that the community must urgently reform.
3. On the Malabar
Rebellion: We revised Ambedkar’s judgment using the archival work of K.N.
Panikkar, concluding that Ambedkar relied on colonial narratives that erased
the anti-imperial and agrarian nature of the uprising, mischaracterizing a
class war as a pure “Jehad.”
Dr. Ambedkar acts as a “Critical Friend” to the Muslim community. His
harsh words were a mirror held up to a stagnating society. Instead of breaking
the mirror, the Muslim community must use it to clean its face.
The “Re-Evaluation” proposed in this work is not a rejection of
Ambedkar, but an expansion of his vision. It calls for an Indian Islam that is
Prabuddha (Enlightened)—free from caste, gender-just, and deeply integrated
into the democratic fabric. Simultaneously, it calls for an Ambedkarite
movement that recognizes the Muslim not as the “Other,” but as a co-sufferer
and a co-traveler in the long march toward the “City of Virtue” (Prabuddha
Bharat).
In the final analysis, the destiny of the Dalit and the Muslim in India
is indivisible. They swim or sink together. By synthesizing the constitutional
morality of Ambedkar with the universal justice of the Quran, we can forge a
republic that is truly inclusive, humanistic, and liberatory.
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V.A. Mohamad Ashrof is an independent Indian scholar specializing in Islamic humanism. With
a deep commitment to advancing Quranic hermeneutics that prioritize human
well-being, peace, and progress, his work aims to foster a just society,
encourage critical thinking, and promote inclusive discourse and peaceful
coexistence. He is dedicated to creating pathways for meaningful social change
and intellectual growth through his scholarship. He can be reached at vamashrof@gmail.com
Link: https://countercurrents.org/2025/12/revisiting-ambedkars-critique-of-muslims/
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