A brief history of how partition impacted the lives of Dalits

Violence between Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs is frequently highlighted in historiography and historical accounts of the Partition of the subcontinent. However, most of the time, Dalits find themselves marginalized in such narratives as their history has often been neglected and they are just treated as a subgroup of Hindus and Sikhs.

Two men carrying a woman during partition (image source: thewirein)

The partition of the Indian subcontinent led to the largest-ever forced migration in such a short period. Studies of refugee experiences after partition usually use broad narratives of memory, narrative, violent events, genocide experiences, and so on.

The people of India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh continue to live under the shadow of the tragic consequences of Partition. In addition to dividing nations and histories, family and friends were also divided by the borders that were first drawn in 1947 and later redrawn in 1971. It was a time of loss, relocation, improbable accommodation, and recovery. It enabled unanticipated action. It was a time of rebirth and reconciliation; it was, paradoxically, a time of trauma and relief. However, in the common imagination, the incident is still depicted as the political fallout of communalism, with the religious community—whether Hindu, Muslim, or Sikh—as the root of the insurmountable conflict.

Urvashi Butalia in her book ‘The Other Side of Silence’ says “the existence of Partition survivors and their stories among us today continually reminds that this was once a shared history, and in many ways even today, it continues to cross and extend borders as only personal stories can do.”

Along with international migration, there were also internal migrations and because they mostly affected the lives of the weaker classes, are rarely discussed concerning Partition. The new focus on oral history narratives to reconstruct the experiences of partition has also exposed the existence of mainstream narratives that may exclude or marginalize stories of other communities, especially the Dalits. The Dalit refugees are referred to in archival sources as "displaced Harijans."

In the name of social-religious reform movements, the Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, and Christians fought each other for the right to convert Dalits during the 19th century. Dalits were thought to be "empty in their own identity," making them ideal candidates for conversion to any religion to increase and strengthen its numerical representation. In colonial India, some Dalits converted voluntarily to escape the brutality and untouchability they experienced within the Hindu community as a result of its caste system and hierarchical structure. It was also seen as a form of opposition to and protest against Hinduism. During the Partition, this pattern persisted.

By placing knives on the necks of thousands of Dalits, communal violence transformed these religious conversions from a deliberate choice into the loudest, worst attempts at forcible conversion. Many were forced to convert to Islam in Pakistan’s West Punjab.

There have been publications and official reports that described how Muslims, Sikhs, and Hindus exploit, beat, and even kill the Dalits. The women were the worst victims. Each socioeconomic and religious group in India has been conscious of the significance of demonstrating strength in numbers ever since the politics of representation were introduced. The upper caste landowners' realization resulted in a nightmare for the Dalits.

Sikhs are alleged to have attacked Dalits after Partition forced them to film themselves speaking Punjabi. In 1949, in Jalandhar’s Lahran hamlet, a Dalit woman was slain and another was reportedly injured. The Dalits of Kapurthala were compelled to withdraw their Satyagraha, which they had started in protest of unjust treatment following the linguistic controversy in the census. After the Dalit march in Gujarat, which culminated at Una, where four Dalits had been publicly whipped for skinning a dead cow, it might be relevant to reflect on the significance of purity and filth in the Partition narrative.

In Delhi, Bhils, one of the oldest tribes in India, are mostly found in Subzi Mandi, Cantonment, Karol Bagh, Patel Nagar, Timarpur and Kala Pahar in Baljit Nagar. Most of them came as refugees during partition and contrary to the refugees of the "higher caste," like Banias and Sindhis who were given land and housing, it was clear from their accounts that they had not been given dwellings or even huts by the government. Akansha Kumar discusses how the Dalit and labour identities of these immigrants heavily impact the way they choose to recall the past, in contrast to "upper" caste narratives where violence and fear rule and their memory of partition is based on concerns over survival and relocation after arriving in India.

In another instance, the Namasudras who lived in eastern and central Bengal before partition were one of the major scheduled castes in the provinces and took a major role in Dalit movements to secure social justice, respectability and equality. They endured Partition's numerous acts of violence in a way that is unlike any other, but they didn’t receive any of its promised benefits.

The complicated negotiations that resulted in the decision to divide the province of Bengal along the lines of religious difference did not involve consulting the vast majority of the Namasudra people. From their perspective, the division made little sense because it would require leaving behind their homes and families in favour of unknown futures in the "Hindu" west. A society that was already suffering due to riots, starvation, and a rapidly worsening refugee crisis did not exactly make them feel welcome. The spoils of Partition were meant for the comparatively privileged tier of Hindus, as they quickly learned upon arriving in the country where they sought deliverance. The state was under extreme financial strain from maintaining the refugee camps and the people living there, so caste Hindu Congress MPs used the excuse of "land availability" to argue for the rehabilitation of these people outside of their purview. Although nearby states did offer help, their generosity had its limitations.

For the eastern Indian Namasudras, the "long partition" has truly been long. Even today, people have not yet been given citizenship due to allegations that they are undocumented immigrants from Bangladesh. And of course, they have also had to deal with the caste system and its steadfast prejudices and exclusions in their daily lives, which is the other major division.

The commemoration of Partition and its numerous impacts on people's lives today remains a sombre and depressing task that complicates any straightforward valorisation of hard-won anti-colonial sovereignties. What Partition meant and means for the countless people especially the marginalized communities whose lives were drawn into its maelstrom voluntarily or not is a theme that has slowly but finally begun to capture the interest of academics, artists, and literati.