- Aug 12, 2026
- YagnaSri
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The Ambedkar That Today's ‘Ambedkarites’ Don't Quote Part 3
Introduction No figure is invoked more often, by more sides of the SC-reservation debate, than Dr. B.R. Ambedkar. Organisations campaigning for the extension of Scheduled Caste status to Dalit converts to Christianity and Islam routinely present their cause as the fulfilment of Ambedkar's unfinished project. This is a serious historical claim, and it deserves to be tested against what Ambedkar actually wrote, said, and did across the two decades in which he thought hardest about exactly this question — the period between his public 1935 declaration that he would not die a Hindu, and his eventual conversion, in 1956, to a religion he chose specifically because it was neither Islam nor Christianity. The Long Deliberation: 1935 to 1956 In 1935, at Yeola, Ambedkar publicly announced that although he had been born a Hindu, he would not die one. What followed was not an impulsive act but a sustained, two-decade intellectual investigation into which faith, if any, could deliver genuine social liberation to India's Dalit communities. He studied Hinduism's internal reform possibilities, Sikhism, Islam, and Christianity in turn, weighing each against a single test he considered decisive for any religion: what mental and moral relief does it actually offer the oppressed and the downtrodden? He seriously considered Sikhism for a period, drawn to its explicit doctrinal rejection of caste. Still, he ultimately hesitated over practical and political concerns about how a mass Dalit conversion into the Sikh community would be institutionally absorbed. Islam and Christianity, the two other major faiths available to him, he examined in considerable depth and in both cases, he ultimately declined to recommend them to the community he led. This was not indecision. It was a considered rejection, grounded in specific findings he set out in his own writing, most extensively in his 1940 work Pakistan or the Partition of India. Ambedkar's Documented Findings on Caste Among Indian Muslims Ambedkar's critique of Islam as a vehicle of Dalit liberation is among the most rigorously argued and today, among the most selectively ignored parts of his corpus. He found that Indian Muslim society had developed its own internal hierarchy, broadly tracked as the Ashraf-Ajlaf-Arzal stratification, and that this hierarchy reproduced patterns of exclusion strikingly similar to those he had spent his life fighting within Hinduism. In his essay "Waiting for a Visa," he recounted a personal episode illustrating the point directly: a person treated as untouchable by a Hindu was, in the specific circumstance he described, treated as untouchable by a Muslim as well. He examined, using contemporary government census data, the comparative status of women under prevailing social practice in Muslim society and found conditions he judged no better on questions such as the age of marriage than those prevailing among Hindus, directly rebutting the then-fashionable narrative, popularised by writers such as Katherine Mayo, that Muslim society was comparatively free of the social evils documented in Hindu society. He was also troubled by a specific political episode: when conservative Hindu leaders sought Muslim support in opposing temple-entry reform for Dalits, several Muslim representatives responded favourably to that alliance, aligning, in Ambedkar's assessment, with reactionary social forces rather than with reformist currents of the kind then associated with Kemal Atatürk's Turkey. On the strength of this record, Ambedkar counselled Dalits to exercise considerable caution before contemplating conversion to Islam, concluding, in the starkest terms he used anywhere in his writing on the subject, that Islamic social practice as he observed it in India showed no meaningful escape from caste-like stratification, and that a Muslim social order, once established, tended toward rigidity rather than reform. These are not marginal or disputed observations recovered from obscure sources. They appear in a book Ambedkar published under his own name, intended as a serious political and sociological argument, and later scholars of his work have extensively documented them. Ambedkar's Reservations About Christianity Ambedkar's assessment of Christianity was less severe in tone but no more encouraging in conclusion. He acknowledged, generously, the real contribution Christian missionary institutions had made to education and healthcare among Dalit communities, and for a period held a genuinely favourable view of the faith as a potential path forward. But his final judgment, reached after extended study, was that conversion to Christianity had not delivered a meaningful change in the social status of Dalit converts on the ground. Missionary institutions could educate and heal; they could not, in his assessment, dissolve the social boundaries that caste-conscious Indian society continued to draw around converts regardless of their new religious label. He therefore declined to recommend Christianity to the community as the path to liberation, for essentially the same reason he declined Islam: a change of religious label without a change in lived social reality was not liberation. Why He Chose Buddhism — And What That Choice Tells Us When Ambedkar finally converted, at Nagpur on 14 October 1956, together with several hundred thousand followers, he chose neither Islam nor Christianity but Navayana Buddhism, a form of Buddhism he himself reinterpreted around its rationalism, its explicit historical opposition to Vedic caste doctrine, and, critically, its Indian origin. Scholars who have studied his final choice, including Columbia University's Gauri Vishwanathan, have pointed to the "foreignness" Ambedkar associated with Islam and Christianity as a significant factor weighing against both faiths in his final decision, a concern distinct from, but reinforcing, his substantive social critique of each religion's practical record on caste in the Indian context. Buddhism, born on Indian soil and doctrinally opposed to the Chaturvarna system at its historical origin, offered him what neither Abrahamic faith could: a religion he judged genuinely, not merely nominally, incompatible with caste, and one that carried no risk of transplanting his followers into a new social hierarchy dressed in different theological clothing. This is the man, and this is the considered, two-decade intellectual journey, that today's advocates for extending SC status to Christian and Muslim converts invoke as authority for their cause. Ironically, it may be very interesting to note that the Buddha’s religion is not without its caste divisions. If anything, it is more backward in its ideas on caste and even on the status of women, for that matter. But that is a point to discuss separately. The Contradiction at the Heart of Contemporary "Ambedkarite" Advocacy Since the 2000s, a range of organisations describing their advocacy as Ambedkarite including bodies such as the National Council of Dalit Christians and allied groups that have petitioned the Supreme Court and successive government commissions have campaigned vigorously for exactly the outcome Ambedkar's own documented reasoning counsels against: treating SC status as a portable entitlement that survives conversion to Islam or Christianity, on the theory that caste-based disadvantage persists regardless of the convert's new religious identity. There is a genuine argument to be had about whether social prejudice does, in practice, persist after conversion; that is a question of fact. It is precisely the question the Supreme Court addressed in Soosai v. Union of India (1985), holding that the burden of proving continuing disability at the same structural intensity as among Hindu Scheduled Castes rests on those seeking inclusion. This burden remains undischarged four decades later. But it is a different matter altogether to invoke Ambedkar's name and authority for a policy conclusion that runs directly counter to his own express, structural clarification in the Constituent Assembly that a person who steps out of the Hindu social system cannot carry the Scheduled Caste label with them and to his own considered, published judgment that neither Islam nor Christianity, as practised in India, offered Dalits a genuine exit from caste-like social stratification. This is not a small tension to be waved away as a difference of interpretation. It is a direct contradiction between what Ambedkar wrote about the persistence of caste-like hierarchy within Indian Islam, what he concluded about the practical ineffectiveness of Christian conversion in altering social status, what he told the Constituent Assembly about the non-portability of the Scheduled Caste label, and what a movement invoking his name today asks the Indian state to legislate. The Twenty-Two Vows: A Constitution for a New Religious Identity The content of the conversion ceremony Ambedkar himself administered at Nagpur in October 1956 reinforces the same point from a different angle. Ambedkar did not simply lead his followers into an existing religious community; he administered a specific set of twenty-two personally drafted vows that his new followers were required to take alongside the traditional Buddhist refuge and precepts. These vows explicitly renounced belief in the Hindu deities Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh, rejected the doctrine of avatars, and committed the convert to reject the belief that Hindu scriptures were divinely revealed, but their affirmative content was equally significant: a commitment to treat all human beings as equal, to follow the Buddha's Eightfold Path, and to reject ritual practices Ambedkar associated with caste-based inequality. Nowhere in this carefully constructed ceremony did Ambedkar direct his followers toward Islamic or Christian theological content, doctrinal loyalty, or institutional affiliation. A man who had spent two decades studying available religious alternatives, and who at the moment of his own historic conversion chose to draft an entirely new set of vows rather than adopt the existing catechism of any faith already established among Dalit converts in India, cannot plausibly be read as having regarded Islam or Christianity as satisfactory vehicles for Dalit emancipation. If he had believed either faith adequately answered the question he considered central what mental and moral relief does a religion offer the oppressed the twenty-year deliberation. The elaborate new-vow ceremony that concluded it, would have been unnecessary. Addressing the Objection: "Ambedkar's Views on Islam Predate Partition and Reflect a Different Era" A serious rejoinder to the argument developed above is that Pakistan or the Partition of India was written in 1940, in the specific and highly charged context of the Pakistan movement and impending Partition, and that Ambedkar's observations about Islamic social practice. This is a fair methodological caution. But the caution now cuts less deeply than it first appears. Ambedkar's central finding at that time was that Indian Muslim society had developed its own internal Ashraf-Ajlaf-Arzal hierarchy reproducing caste-like exclusion; it is not a claim about the political circumstances of 1940; it is a sociological claim about social structure in present-day Indian Muslim society in almost identical terms. The persistence of the very stratification Ambedkar documented, independently attested by a present-day indigenous reform movement with no stake in defending his 1940 text, is better evidence for the durability of his observation than against it, and what has persisted is the underlying social structure Ambedkar was describing. A Test for the Debate in the future None of this forecloses the empirical question that genuinely matters: whether, eight decades after Ambedkar wrote, social conditions for Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims have changed in ways that might justify a different constitutional conclusion. That is a legitimate subject for inquiry; indeed, it is the very question the Justice K.G. Balakrishnan Commission has been constituted to examine. But that inquiry should proceed honestly, on its own empirical merits, and not through the borrowed authority of a historical figure whose own writing, considered in full rather than selectively, points the other way. Any commission, court, or campaign that wishes to invoke Ambedkar's legacy in this debate owes it to that legacy and to the historical record to engage with what he actually concluded about Islam, about Christianity, and about the constitutional meaning of Scheduled Caste status, rather than only with the fact that he was a Dalit icon whose name lends weight to whichever position is convenient. ‘A Patch on the Hindu Religion’: What the Constituent Assembly Actually Decided About Scheduled Castes and Conversion Part 2 https://myind.net/Home/viewArticle/a-patch-on-the-hindu-religion-what-the-constituent-assembly-actually-decided-about-scheduled-castes-and-conversion-part-2- Aug 12, 2026
- Avinash Brahmbhatt
