Yesterday one observed the birth anniversary of a man credited with the creation of the foundation of our Republic, the bulwark of our State: our Constitution, which we in our hope gave to ourselves on the 26th of January 1950. This man had come a long way, from the squalor of the cantonment of Mhow in the then Central Provinces, to being a member of the highest decision-making body of the country, the Union Council of Ministers. He had come a long way from being a student who studied in the light of the candle at night, just to avoid the hustle and bustle of the neighborhood in the day, to becoming the man whose words the whole nation stayed silent to listen. From the days when he would smuggle sandwiches into the British Library, just to save time and read more and more, he would go on to become the most favored of patrons of the booksellers of the world, buying carton loads of books at one go.
All his achievements, all his glories, he secured not because he reveled in the fact that he belonged to a certain community, or because he managed to secure the State’s support in his initiatives and endeavours. He secured his place in history because he had the guts to fight against the system, if the situation so demanded, and if the system were to underestimate or even deny him his right to a better life merely because he was a member of a specific community. He deserves to be venerated not because he strove to liberate a specific community from the clutches of injustice, but because he believed that the wheels of change need just to be prodded for them to be set in motion, and that push would come not from the skies, but from the earth, from its people, his people. When I use the possessive adjective ‘his’ here, do not think that I refer to his community, for I refer to the human race as such, as I believe he too would have.
And today that this great man’s name is dragged in whenever someone talks of reforming the reservation system, when his legacy is so maligned by his so-called followers to let go of the crutches of social welfare even when they no longer may seem to need it, my heart bleeds. This man never identified himself as a member of specific community to gain special privileges, or to distinguish himself from the rest of the people; rather he believed that just as a Brahmin is proud to call himself a Brahmin, so also should he permitted to feel proud of his identity. He didn’t ask for dole-outs; he asked for assistance. His own education wasn’t the result of a reservation policy, but of a magnanimous monarch’s appreciation of the merit of a deserving student, which stood the risk of being wasted in the face of social pressures. Thousands of such deserving students, many of them from the hitherto referred to as Depressed Classes, were supported by many other monarchs throughout the land, without the compulsion or rule of the State, but merely out of respect for the merit inherent in these students.
Maybe he felt that the nascent nation, in its founding days, would be imbued with a sense of guilt or maybe even a desire to undo the wrongs of the past, and would therefore lift those who had lain in the squalor of Time for centuries to the light, and so introduced the proviso for reservation, albeit time-bound, for largesse when granted for infinity becomes the very shackle from which he sought to liberate his people. But when man proposes, God disposes, and He disposes through His creations. And so, the very ‘honorable’ political class found it inconvenient to abolish the largesse, or even review the munificence. His own, those whom he sought to liberate found this life of ease and luxury, when one only needed to be born in a specific community to claim privileges for life, so very relaxing that they never bothered to get up from the very gutters the largesse was intended to clear out. And so this man dies a thousand deaths every day, for now not only do those who considered him their enemy condemn him to Hell, but the bacchanalian behavior of his followers leads him to purgatory!
All his achievements, all his glories, he secured not because he reveled in the fact that he belonged to a certain community, or because he managed to secure the State’s support in his initiatives and endeavours. He secured his place in history because he had the guts to fight against the system, if the situation so demanded, and if the system were to underestimate or even deny him his right to a better life merely because he was a member of a specific community. He deserves to be venerated not because he strove to liberate a specific community from the clutches of injustice, but because he believed that the wheels of change need just to be prodded for them to be set in motion, and that push would come not from the skies, but from the earth, from its people, his people. When I use the possessive adjective ‘his’ here, do not think that I refer to his community, for I refer to the human race as such, as I believe he too would have.
And today that this great man’s name is dragged in whenever someone talks of reforming the reservation system, when his legacy is so maligned by his so-called followers to let go of the crutches of social welfare even when they no longer may seem to need it, my heart bleeds. This man never identified himself as a member of specific community to gain special privileges, or to distinguish himself from the rest of the people; rather he believed that just as a Brahmin is proud to call himself a Brahmin, so also should he permitted to feel proud of his identity. He didn’t ask for dole-outs; he asked for assistance. His own education wasn’t the result of a reservation policy, but of a magnanimous monarch’s appreciation of the merit of a deserving student, which stood the risk of being wasted in the face of social pressures. Thousands of such deserving students, many of them from the hitherto referred to as Depressed Classes, were supported by many other monarchs throughout the land, without the compulsion or rule of the State, but merely out of respect for the merit inherent in these students.
Maybe he felt that the nascent nation, in its founding days, would be imbued with a sense of guilt or maybe even a desire to undo the wrongs of the past, and would therefore lift those who had lain in the squalor of Time for centuries to the light, and so introduced the proviso for reservation, albeit time-bound, for largesse when granted for infinity becomes the very shackle from which he sought to liberate his people. But when man proposes, God disposes, and He disposes through His creations. And so, the very ‘honorable’ political class found it inconvenient to abolish the largesse, or even review the munificence. His own, those whom he sought to liberate found this life of ease and luxury, when one only needed to be born in a specific community to claim privileges for life, so very relaxing that they never bothered to get up from the very gutters the largesse was intended to clear out. And so this man dies a thousand deaths every day, for now not only do those who considered him their enemy condemn him to Hell, but the bacchanalian behavior of his followers leads him to purgatory!
3 comments:
I am a dalit. I too have some reservations
A reader responds to the Times Review story last Sunday — ‘I’m a brahmin. I have some reservations’
Dear editor,
My father first encountered casteism when he went to a tea stall outside his native village in Tirunelveli district of Tamil Nadu. The shopkeeper inquired about his caste and then offered him tea in a dirty coconut shell. My father was from the ‘Koliar Sambavar’ dalit caste. Tea was served in steel tumblers only to the forward castes (FC). My father’s uncles and aunts were aged over 50 but FC kids aged 10 to 12 years would stand outside our street and summon them by their first names. Government buses in those days would come only up to the FC streets as the drivers refused to enter our streets.
My father tried to enter the village school many times but he was driven away. The teachers were all brahmin. Brahmin children sat on mats, children from other castes sat on the ground while dalit children were shooed away. When my father discussed this issue with his elders, he was informed that brahmin children were entitled to all these benefits by birth.
My father, however, observed that most of the brahmin kids were lazy, some were plain stupid and one was even mentally retarded. But, they all went to school and sat on mats while brilliant dalit kids were kept out of school.
At the time of independence, 99% of all government functionaries of Tamil Nadu were brahmin whereas they formed only 3% of the population (The figure is disputed but is a reasonable approximation — editor). Rajgopalachari stated that children should be given training in the vocations of their parents, that is, children of cobblers should be trained to mend shoes etc, but he never talked about it after Periyar countered that the children of brahmins should only be trained to beg for alms.
In Tamil Nadu, as in all over India, dalits were restricted outside the village limits to
their own small clusters.
They are denied basic
facilities like well water,
education and temple entry. They are called by
derogatory names. Dalit
women are routinely
raped. They are supposed to
expose the upper half of their bodies (in the presence of higher castes). In FC-dominated villages, they are made to work as slaves. They are not paid anything. They are given enough cereals to survive. They are naturally expected to offer sexual services to the FCs. Dalit men are not allowed to ride bicycles. They are also not allowed to fold their ‘vesties’ in the presence of FCs. Dalit children are abused by their FC classmates and harassed by their FC teachers. Dalit kids who make it to the IITs are subjected to relentless abuse by vicious brahmin kids. These institutions are known as ‘Iyer Iyengar technology’ institutes.
My father felt insulted by the discrimination. He often discussed these tales of humiliation with me. I often felt that true equality would be possible only if the FC children were denied education for 1,000 years and our caste people were given 99% of all government posts. The FC children had enjoyed these ‘reservations/quota benefits’ because of their birth and not on account of ‘merit’. Dalits have enjoyed reservations for about 60 years, whereas the FCs have enjoyed reservations for more than 2,000 years.
I sympathise with T Surendar (author of the story this reader is responding to). The plight suffered by brahmins during the last 60 years is truly horrendous. Imagine being stripped of 100% domination by virtue of birth. Their children have every right to feel that they have been born in the wrong caste. The insults, humiliations, rapes, murders, tortures and house-burnings suffered by my ancestors appear to be a picnic in comparison. Truly, I am lucky to be born in a dalit caste. I thank my ancestors for the degraded lives they lived. They were treated as less than beasts but it is because of them that I have got reservations. I have been born in the right caste. After all, 22.5% reservations is life. My heart is overwhelmed by compassion for FC kids. I make them this offer. Please become ‘Untouchables’ from today. Live outside civilisation and be treated like animals. After 2,000 years of such glorious life, I promise you that your descendants will be given 15% reservation for 100 years in all government jobs. It is the offer of a lifetime, nay millennium. You will not regret it. It is a promise.
Brahmins have dominated every sphere of life for nearly two millennia because of their birth and not because of merit. Merit is not the issue. It never was. So drop these contrived pretences. FCs are not agitated on account of danger to ‘meritocracy’. They were happy with reservations for 2,000 years. In fact, they have the scantest of regard for equality, justice and fairness. The only reason for their agitation is that others will now enjoy the benefits, which they had cunningly cornered for themselves.
Yours truly,
Sam George
dude, i think you're gonna have second thoughts, after you read this article...
even my perception changed after reading the article...
"i'm a dalit...i've some reservations..."
go to epaper of timesofindia.com and read it online...
it's in the review section of the sunday times...
I agree with Mr. Sam George when he speaks of the horrible treatment meted out to his people in the past centuries. But one wrong cannot be allowed to beget a thousand wrongs. The punishment for one wrong cannot be the initiation of another. If he retorts that the depressed classes should oppress the so called forward classes for two millennia to avenge their insult, then I ask him what guarantee does he have that after these two millenia the till then suppressed forward classes will not turn on the depressed classes, and again subject them to the horrors that they so passionately remind the world of?
Bear in mind that I am not opposed to reservations. In fact, to some extent I support it. But not when it is solely based on the principle of community. For reservation to work, it must be based on economics as well.
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