The latest addition to the growing literature on the life and ideas of B.R. Ambedkar is Iconoclast: A Reflective Biography of Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar, a literary biography written by Anand Teltumbde.
The book spaces out Ambedkar’s life into seven phases, each representing an epoch in his life focusing on his encounter with the realities of and struggle against caste informed social relations, economic inequality, and anti-colonial and postcolonial politics.
In addition to the core seven chapters, the last chapter titled posthumous phase (1956-2023) provides a critique of the way Ambedkar was received in the wider social and political life of India and in the way certain movements failed to realise the anti-caste agenda.
The biography begins with describing the intensity of the caste system and how it is different from other oppressive systems. As an example, it cites the ritual and religious aspects inherent to the system of caste. It moves on to capture how Ambedkar’s family manoeuvred around the life that was decided on birth as a result of their caste along with the influence of the colonial regime and princely states around them.
Much of the narrative in the biography about Ambedkar’s life is widely known today, mainly around the chronological sequence from his birth as a son of a Mahar military officer to his rise as one of the most important figures in the 20th Century history. Vernacular public discourses around his life and thoughts made it a shared knowledge that is also accessible to anyone who is curious enough to explore.
However, this biography certainly makes additional contribution by coherently contextualising Ambedkar’s life within his writings and political economic situations of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. It also makes effective use of previously published biographies of Ambedkar.
Ambedkar’s writings, including from the newspapers he ran, and his speeches find an important place in this account as it reiterates that there is a deeper connection between political developments in India and what Ambedkar wrote in different periods, and the way he thought about the nature of caste, and how to overcome it.
Iconoclast: A Reflective Biography of Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar, Published by India Viking, 2024
In doing so, this book also explores the depth of Ambedkar’s scholarship, their connection to his political interventions and in the way he approached the question of anti-caste justice. For example, the congress’s double standard of demanding self-rule from the British while overlooking the demand for representational political power for the ‘depressed classes’ turned out to be a major event within which Ambedkar proactively nurtured his thinking about a critical understanding of history, political economic relations, and position of Dalits within the formation of the postcolonial India.
This inquiry of his writings also serves a purpose of how Ambedkar’s analysis precedes the key foundational concepts in sociology, by for example, GS Ghurye and MN Srinivas, and how they and many others while being familiar with Ambedkar’s writings did not duly acknowledge his contribution.
As an example, Teltumbde discusses Ambedkar’s important early writing, “Caste in India: their mechanism, genesis and development.” This essay provided a critical analysis of on the peculiarity of caste and its relation to the categories of race, class, and gender, and on the processes through which the hierarchy is reproduced through, for example, the imitation of the caste practices, which Srinivas later called as Sanskritisation without any reference to Ambedkar.
Had Srinivas and others engaged with Ambedkar’s scholarship, they would have paid much more attention to how the process of imitations was always accompanied by coercion and violent punitive measures for breaking caste norms, and, that these oppressive measures were constantly challenged by the lower castes throughout history.
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An important highlight of the book is the framing, what Teltumbde calls a ‘reflective biography.’ It is reflective at least three ways. Firstly, the book reflects on the sociopolitical contexts within which the social and intellectual development of Ambedkar takes place. Second, the biographical sketch is reflected through Ambedkar’s key writings, including his theses in economics, which have not received due attention compared to his explicit political writings.
And lastly, Teltumbde, as the author, registers critical reflection on the events in Ambedkar’s life, on earlier biographies of Ambedkar, and also on the Ambedkarite movements since his death. The ‘reflective’ framing is particularly used here in criticising Ambedkar’s iconisation by the Ambedkarite movements. This framing’ therefore goes well with the title of the book, ‘iconoclast’, someone who critically engages with the established notions, or the one who destroys the icons.
Among numerous traits of Ambedkar, why does ‘iconoclast’ become the title for the book? Perhaps Teltumbde evoked such a trait from Ambedkar to rationalise his own focus on questioning the iconisation of Ambedkar.
While all the chapters of the book are important, the final chapter stands out, as it captures the rationale behind the title Iconoclast. A closer reading of the preceding seven chapters reveals attempts to finding gaps in Ambedkar’s personality and limitations of his political decisions to problematise the ‘iconisation’ of Ambedkar in the final chapter.
For instance, there is an undue focus on whether Ambedkar lied to his doctoral supervisor, his approach to address caste in India’s Constitution, and his handling of the class question in relation to caste. Teltumbde contends that Ambedkar misunderstood the origins of caste by emphasising Hindu texts rather than the material conditions underpinning caste.
In my view, Ambedkar’s critique of caste does not merely centre on Hindu texts, nor does it overlook the inequalities produced by capitalist economic structures. Ambedkar would concur with Teltumbde that the roots of caste lie in material relations, as Ambedkar highlights the consolidation of class groups leading to the formation of caste. However, Ambedkar also recognised the distinct characteristics of India’s class system, embedded within a caste society. His argument emphasises that religious texts play a pivotal role in shaping socioeconomic relations, particularly by sacralising hierarchy – a unique feature of inequality in India.
This perspective is crucial for understanding why the caste-based division of labour, shaped by sacred texts, was widely accepted across various communities in India’s villages, particularly during Ambedkar’s era. Ambedkar’s conception of class was firmly grounded in the realities of Indian society.
His focus on the necessity of social and religious revolution as a foundation for political revolution highlights his recognition of the inseparable link between the political and the political-economic. His advocacy for state socialism and his significant contributions to labour rights further underscore this viewpoint.
The final chapter consolidates Teltumbde’s critiques, subtly tempering Ambedkar’s perceived greatness and questioning the ‘uncritical veneration of Ambedkar’ as an icon – almost as a deity. Teltumbde argues that such idolisation can divert attention from the pragmatic application of Ambedkar’s ideas in fighting various forms of injustice.
This “iconisation,” Teltumbde suggests, is an apolitical stance that fails to contribute meaningfully to progressive movements and may, in fact, undermine them. However, Teltumbde’s conclusions, stemming from his ‘reflective’ approach, often feel deeply subjective, with certain interpretations appearing narrow and unfair – points I will elaborate on further.
Unlike many contemporary “statesman” figures, Ambedkar’s rise as an icon was not the result of a top-down propaganda campaign fuelled by millions of rupees in orchestrated advertisements. Nor was his iconisation the product of a cadre-driven party agenda designed to elevate a leader or centre the movement around an icon. While Dalit political movements undeniably contributed to the formation of Ambedkar as an icon, what truly stands out is the grassroots, bottom-up process of his iconisation.
Across rural and urban spaces, Dalits embraced Ambedkar as a powerful instrument in their struggle for both a dignified livelihood and the fundamental dignity of life. This process of iconisation is inherently non-linear and non-hierarchical, resembling a Deleuzian rhizomatic formation, often independent of larger organisational structures and transcending narrow political frameworks (and certainly not “apolitical”).
Sympathy is warranted for those who find refuge in Ambedkar, as it is also deeply personal, where many Dalits see in Ambedkar both a symbol of liberation and a reflection of their own oppression – connecting their lived experiences to his image. In this sense, celebrating Ambedkar is neither irrational nor a product of fantasy; rather, it emerges as a profound act of resistance that lies at the heart of a decentralised Dalit politics.
Also Read: The Importance of Ambedkar in a Post-Ambedkar Era
At the same time, his iconisation has also provided Dalit movements with a sense of direction and unity. Indeed, such rituals and symbolic practices are integral to most progressive movements, where the creation of a shared social memory fosters collective imagination and solidarity. Therefore, the iconisation of Ambedkar for many Dalits also serves as a resistance against the erasure of their history, binding various sub-caste communities together through a sacred thread of shared experiences.
Iconisation, ritualised performances, and political pilgrimages have long been integral to India’s political culture. While this culture may be critiqued in general, using Ambedkarite movements as an ideal example risk reinforcing racialised stereotypes about Dalits and marginalised castes. Such characterisations often depict them as “emotionally driven,” suggesting their capacity for rational thought is overshadowed by their emotions.
This framing was evident when many Ambedkarites raised concerns about the content, rationale, and context surrounding Arundhati Roy’s invitation by Navayana Press to write the introduction to Ambedkar’s Annihilation of Caste. Rather than addressing the substantive flaws highlighted in the critiques of Roy’s introduction, many of her supporters dismissed these objections as being emotionally motivated.
Ironically, this response ignored the very content and validity of the critiques, undermining meaningful engagement with the issues raised, for example as outlined in Hatred In the Belly. Dalit struggles persist in confronting the hegemonic politics of knowledge production and the capitalist dynamics of the publishing industry, even within the sphere of anti-caste and anti-capitalist scholarship.
In Iconoclast, among the 17 ‘scholars’ invited to provide ‘advance praise’ for the book – presumably at the publisher’s behest –not a single Dalit voice is included. This omission underscores the dominance of non-Dalit perspectives and their authority over institutionalised Ambedkarite scholarship. However, this form of appropriation is contested by how Ambedkar’s writings are embraced in rural settlements, where they serve as a theological foundation for emancipation and collective identity.
During my fieldwork among Dalit movements in Kerala and Tamil Nadu, it was evident that their discourses reflect an inseparable connection between material and ideological struggles, as demonstrated by Ambedkar himself. This perspective has been integral to Dalit struggles, tackling both social oppression and economic exploitation. Therefore, dismissing Dalit movements as overly fixated on cultural struggles is not only inaccurate but also reflective of a detached, armchair analysis.
The writer is a senior lecturer in Anthropology and International Development, King’s College London. Views are personal.
