How Baba Saheb Moves Our Lives and Struggles Forward: Thinking of Baba Saheb from the Higher Education Space

Baba Saheb has fought a lot for us—for our existence as human beings. We become emotional remembering how single-handedly he fought for our human dignity, for our existence, and for our self-respect. We understand ourselves through Baba Saheb—how tirelessly he fought for our dignity. He led the struggle for drinking water, which humans had but Dalits didn’t. Even today, the struggle for drinking water for Dalits continues—the struggle that Baba Saheb started. Even today, a Dalit is beaten for touching water. In 2022, a nine-year-old boy from Dalit community was killed because he drank water from a pot meant for privileged castes. Recently, a 15-year-old Dalit boy in Uttar Pradesh’s Mainpuri was assaulted because he drank water from a teacher’s bottle. The teacher assaulted him because, by his touch, the water became “untouchable.” Still today, from our touch, the water becomes “untouchable.”

Baba Saheb is hope for us; he gave us hope to fight against injustices and inequalities in society. Our life has been guided by him. In childhood, I used to hear from my father that we are outcastes. My father used to say that we don't have anyone—we are outcastes. Here, outcastes means the people who have been ostracised by society. But he used to mention, “We have Baba.” I remember a day from my childhood when I asked, “Who is Baba?” Then my father told me, “He is the person who fought for us. He fought for our human dignity.”

We used to hide our identity in our childhood because we feared that if people knew we came from that community whose touch is considered untouchable, they would discriminate against us. And it happened. In school, no one used to eat lunch with me. In childhood, I never thought that even my lunch would become untouchable. I usually sat on the last bench out of fear that others would recognise that I am a Dalit. Whenever people came to know I was a Dalit, they started distancing themselves from me.

Teachers knew the identity of Dalit students in the class, but they never paid attention to us and maintained a distance. Teachers never appreciated us. We wanted appreciation but got humiliation. In childhood, I used to hear that a teacher is a guru. Many Dalit students’ experiences with teachers are deeply traumatising. They were beaten by teachers for touching water. Teachers themselves became part of the discrimination. We didn't get the guru in our childhood who appreciated us, who had empathy for us, who didn’t see us as the “other.” This is the story of many Dalits. And for these inequalities, our Baba Saheb fought—for us. Baba Saheb gave us hope to fight against injustices, to fight for self-respect, to fight for human dignity. He stood for us.

Many Dalits wanted to be accepted by society and its people, but they never got accepted. When a first-generation Dalit student comes to higher institutions, they have many dreams—to change their and their family’s lives and to create an equitable society. People from privileged castes have never acknowledged the privileges they are born with. They are born with the privileges of social capital, cultural capital, and economic capital, all of which Dalits have been deprived of. For centuries, the castes regarded as privileged or superior had access to power, knowledge, and wealth, which allowed them to dominate society culturally, politically, and economically. Dalits, on the other hand, have been oppressed in different ways and have been denied property rights, education, and even human dignity for centuries.

Discrimination against a Dalit student in higher educational institutions starts with very minute things. For example, when a Dalit student asks questions, others say that they only know about topics related to Dr. Ambedkar and Dalit issues. Even though a Dalit student has knowledge of other fields, others try to limit them to their identity only and place them in a common frame. Many times, Dalits are demonized as less meritorious by tagging them “quota wale.” Dalit students are told that they are aggressive, that their language is inappropriate, that their aesthetic sense is poor. Dalits who talk about Baba Saheb Ambedkar in universities, about his ideology and philosophy, who assert themselves as Ambedkarites on campus, are made more marginalized and isolated. Still, Baba Saheb’s thoughts and ideas are barely taught in academia.

Dalit students are mocked for their appearance, gestures, looks, and English. The privileged castes decide what is appropriate in academia and expect Dalits to conform to their standards. They make victims into culprits. They believe Dalits should change to meet their standards of appropriateness. Dalits are mocked for their complexion. Others make casteist jokes like, “He/she looks like a Dalit,” implying that Dalits should be black and should not wear good clothes. When Dalit students wear new clothes, students from privileged castes mock them by saying, “Where are these new clothes coming from?” and joke that “these people get many scholarships.” When you scold them for using indecent language, they say, “We are just joking.” They humiliate us and then claim we don’t understand jokes.

In society, casteist slurs are commonly used against Dalits. Similarly, in Universities, One can hear casteist slurs like “chori-chamari,” “chor-chamar,” “dekho wo chamar jaisa dikh raha hai.” When confronted, people say they didn’t know these are casteist slurs. This ignorance comes from the privilege of the caste in which they were born. Some people portray themselves as progressive, but their hidden casteism reveals itself. Some say, “I have a Dalit friend,” or “a Dalit boyfriend or girlfriend—how can I be casteist?” This is itself a casteist statement. They think that befriending a Dalit is an act of mercy or sympathy. They give the impression that the Dalit has done something wrong.This is casteist behavior.

Dalit students constantly struggle to survive and thrive in universities and make their place. Students from privileged castes should realise that their surname itself is a privilege. They proudly write their surname next to their name. Many Dalit parents don’t use surnames for their children out of fear that they will face discrimination in schools and colleges, My parents didn’t put their surname beside my name for this reason.

Many students from privileged backgrounds do research on Dalit experiences and suffering and build their careers. One can ask them: in how many Dalit lives have they brought change? These privileged-caste researchers become friendly with Dalits to collect data and understand their struggles. But once their data is collected and the project is over, they begin to otherise us. Caste is everywhere—in friendship, in love.

What is friendship? Friendship is built on trust, beliefs, a sense of belongingness, and togetherness. If you search online, you will find many cases where Dalits were killed for loving someone from a privileged caste. In campus spaces too, friendship or love rarely lasts between Dalits and privileged castes, because the privileged caste partner often fails to recognize their own privilege. They should see Dalits as human beings, not as people needing sympathy or mercy. Love is about emotional compatibility, shared values, and mutual respect. In a society where caste plays a significant role, people are conditioned to view relationships through the lens of social hierarchies. A privileged-caste person might have been socialized to prioritize caste compatibility in romantic relationships, making them hesitate to cross caste boundaries.

Privileged castes protest and express outrage when crimes or atrocities happen against people from their own communities. But issues concerning the marginalized are rarely of concern to them—whether inside or outside the campus. The feminism of privileged castes is not inclusive. Dalit women are “not found suitable” in their upper-caste version of feminism. The issues, concerns, and atrocities faced by Dalit women don’t matter to them.

Those from castes considered superior in society have enjoyed social and cultural capital for centuries. It is their responsibility to create an inclusive environment in Indian campuses, universities, and society—not the responsibility of the marginalized, who have been deprived of these privileges for generations.

The Government of India should run caste sensitization programs across universities for students, faculty, and staff, implement strict anti-discrimination policies, and establish support systems for marginalized students. The Thorat Committee’s recommendations have not yet been implemented. The government should implement the “Rohith Act” in line with the Thorat Committee’s findings to end discrimination faced by marginalized students.

“I read Baba Saheb—I get courage from him. I get courage from how he made the pain and sufferings of the oppressed community his own pain and sufferings. Baba Saheb helps me explore love in a society that has spread so much hatred towards us for ages. I loved people without knowing their identity.

I read the history of silences that scream in my ears…”

- Akhilesh Kumar is an Ambedkarite Activist and  a PhD scholar at Jamia Millia Islamia University, specializing in the Centre for Dalit and Minorities Studies. His Doctoral research focuses on "Conceptualising Marginality:Dr. Ambedkar and the Women's Question’.