Vidya Bhushan Rawat’s three-volume body of conversational works constitutes an ambitious and largely unprecedented intellectual intervention into the study of marginalisation in South Asia. Drawing upon the method of extended dialogue, Rawat documents voices from across caste, region, ideology, and national boundaries to construct a living archive of dissent, memory, and struggle.
The trilogy—Contesting Marginalisation: Conversations on Ambedkarism and Social Justice (Volume I), Contesting Marginalisation: Conversations on Social Justice, Identity and Resource Rights (Volume II), and Periyar: Caste, Nation and Socialism - in conversation with S.V. Rajadurai—represents a distinctive blend of activism, ethnography, oral history, and political reflection. Published by People’s Literature Publication, Mumbai–Pune, these works collectively seek to recover the ethos of marginalisation through lived experience rather than abstract theorisation.
Conversation as a method has a long lineage in the Indian intellectual tradition. From the guru–shishya samvad to the dialogical form of the Upanishads, knowledge in South Asia has historically been produced through interrogation and debate. Rawat consciously locates himself within this tradition, while also invoking the Socratic method familiar to Western philosophy.
What distinguishes his work is not merely the use of dialogue, but the political commitment that animates it. An activist-scholar deeply invested in struggles against caste, communalism, and social exclusion, Rawat employs conversation as a tool to democratise knowledge production. Unlike institutional research projects backed by global agencies and large teams, this is largely a solitary endeavour—one individual travelling, listening, recording, losing material, reconstructing narratives, and persistently engaging with people on the margins. The scale of the exercise, spanning South Asia and beyond, makes it remarkable.
The first volume focuses on Ambedkarism and social justice, and is dedicated to five towering figures of the Dalit movement—Bhagwan Das, L.R. Balley, V.T. Rajasekhar, R.M. Pal, and N.G. Uke—each of whom played a critical role in interpreting, disseminating, and defending Babasaheb Ambedkar’s legacy. Rawat’s conversations with them reveal not only ideological positions but also personal memories, disagreements, and unresolved tensions within the movement. His interaction with Bhagwan Das is particularly significant.
Before the official publication of Ambedkar’s writings by the Maharashtra government, Bhagwan Das’s Thus Spoke Babasaheb volumes were among the most important sources for Ambedkar’s thought. Rawat captures the urgency Bhagwan Das felt about recording memories that risked being lost, and this sense of historical responsibility pervades the volume.
Rawat’s method is notable for the intellectual preparation that precedes each conversation. His questions are grounded in a deep familiarity with the life and work of his interlocutors, enabling him to push discussions into uncomfortable but necessary terrain. The book also offers insights into the labour of fieldwork itself—lost tapes, reconstructed interviews, and the emotional stamina required for such work—making it valuable for scholars engaged in qualitative research. The conversations are not merely descriptive; they are analytically rich and often intense enough to warrant separate monographs.
Figures such as N.G. Uke offer sharp critiques of policies like the “creamy layer,” arguing that such frameworks deprive Dalits of capable leadership rather than promoting equity. V.T. Rajasekhar’s account of founding Dalit Voice, with the encouragement of novelist Mulk Raj Anand, highlights the role of non-Dalit allies and the obstacles faced by radical journalism in India. R.M. Pal’s reflections link Ambedkar to broader civil liberties struggles, including his proximity to figures like M.N. Roy and V.M. Tarkunde, complicating simplistic ideological binaries.
Rawat also brings into focus cultural and political producers such as Vijay Surwade, whose archival work preserves Ambedkar’s material legacy, and Dalit Panther leader Raja Dhale, whose reflections link Ambedkarism to global radical currents such as the Black Panthers. Dhale’s insistence on integrating Phule, Ambedkar, and Marx, and his critique of “paper Buddhists,” expose unresolved debates about religion, class, and political strategy.
The conversation with Anand Teltumbde stands out for its critical rigor. Teltumbde’s discomfort with Ambedkar “bhakti,” his scepticism toward Dalit political formations like the RPI, and his cautious acknowledgment of the BSP and DMK’s electoral success reflect an internal critique within Ambedkarite thought. While some of his economic readings of Ambedkar appear underdeveloped, his warnings about the RSS’s attempts to appropriate Ambedkar are incisive.
The volume does not restrict itself to Dalit voices alone. Adivasi perspectives, Left critiques from Bengal, and international voices broaden the analytical canvas. A.K. Biswas’s reflections on the marginalisation of Namasudras and the Marichjhapi massacre expose the limits of Left governance in addressing caste. Nepalese Dalit activists such as Tilak Pariyar and Omprakash Gahatraj bring clarity to the caste–class dialectic, offering insights often absent from Indian Marxist discourse. Pariyar’s assertion that land rights and the annihilation of untouchability are inseparable challenges compartmentalised approaches to liberation.
Rawat’s engagement with the Dalit diaspora in the UK adds another dimension. The experiences of Arun Kumar, Bishan Das Bains, and Santosh Das illustrate how caste travels beyond national borders and adapts to new political contexts. Their struggles against discrimination in Britain, including legislative efforts to recognise caste as a category of discrimination, complicate narratives of diaspora success.
Volume II shifts the focus to land, resources, and identity, situating Indian struggles within a global framework. Drawing on Rawat’s association with the Global Land Forum, the conversations span Africa, Latin America, and Asia. Here, marginalisation is analysed less through caste alone and more through dispossession, ecological destruction, and denial of resource rights. Rawat’s insistence that land is not merely an economic asset but a foundation of cultural identity is central to this volume. The contrast between Indian Dalit movements, often lacking a clear economic agenda, and global movements that place land at the centre of struggle is particularly striking.
The third volume, a sustained conversation with S.V. Rajadurai, adopts an innovative approach to engaging with the legacy of Periyar and the Self-Respect Movement. Rather than hagiography, the dialogue interrogates contradictions within the Dravidian movement, including its geographical confinement, ideological limitations, and responses to Dalit massacres in Tamil Nadu. Rajadurai’s insistence on re-examining source material—much of it mediated through Brahmin translators—raises important methodological questions. The volume also invites renewed engagement with Periyar’s socialism, atheism, and critique of Brahmanism in the context of contemporary India.
Taken together, Rawat’s three volumes represent a massive intellectual labour undertaken outside the formal structures of academia. The conversations map marginalisation as a complex, regionally specific yet structurally consistent phenomenon across South Asia and the Global South. While the trilogy could have engaged more deeply with gender, its contribution lies in foregrounding voices that are often excluded from scholarly discourse.
Written in an accessible yet erudite style, these works function as both documentation and provocation. They invite scholars, activists, and readers to rethink the parameters of social justice, not as an abstract ideal, but as a lived struggle shaped by history, culture, and power.
---
*Former Member UPSC, Former Vice Chancellor, Dravidian University, Kuppam, Andhra Pradesh. This is the abridged version of the author's original review



Comments