IN CONVERSATION
Rachelle Bharthi Chandran is a writer and researcher investigating caste, gender, sexuality, disability and neurodivergence. Zir is also deeply interested in the Intergenerational trauma of Dalit families and specifically interested in presenting community care practices as a way of healing.
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Let me start by saying that I deeply admire your writing. Your innate ability to combine theory and praxis is profound, and quintessential to move the needle forward. It is so important to communicate complex theoretical ideas to a wider audience without diluting it, which you do so beautifully. Tell me about how you started to write -- was it academic language that you wrote in first, or did that come afterwards? I'd like to know more about your writing journey.
Thank you, Jai Bhim Sindhu. I started writing early, however, academic writing happened after my master's in 2019. I started publishing in 2014 because I also started as a journalist right after college (under graduation). A job that lasted a few months where I felt so restricted that I switched to content and editing jobs in Bengaluru. But, English for me was a language of love as a child in many ways. The Indian school system especially the state syllabus in Karnataka heavily emphasises long answers (pages and pages) for arts and humanities. That probably sharpened my writing skills. Because, writing became an everyday practice in school, which is hard to keep up when you are a writer by choice not because it pays the bills, necessarily. Although I have often wondered about writing bilingually or trilingually, it’s still a struggle. I had advanced Kannada language training in school (It was called first language) until pre-university. I wished I could write in Kannada but it was still unfamiliar waters, I felt I didn’t have enough command over it to write literature and unfortunately, I didn’t grow up studying or learning Tamzih, I could articulate but not write. So, English became that medium of expression for me by default due to having wonderful English teachers who I was quite fond of in school.
In a recent piece you published with The News Minute titled: Building homes through communities of care: A case study on trans accommodation from HCU, you write: "To feel safe in a space, one must feel safe in one's body," and that for "a trans person, clothes are not merely clothes. It is armour, a second skin, a rite of passage in a world that is still grappling with the humanity of a trans person. So invisibilisation... is the first and foremost form of violence enforced on transness." This article was written following the burning of two trans scholars' clothes outside their hostel rooms; and the events that came after. You point out how the State/Institution often marginalizes those it claims to include. How this illustrates forms of token inclusivity and tags of progress. You also point out how communities like the Ambedkarite Student's Association (ASA) seek and work towards justice, as opposed to simply speaking of justice as a revolutionary idea. Please tell me more about why student associations such as ASA are important to bringing in actual change across campuses (and the wider community). Also, I really like how you conceive these student bodies as "homes" and as "communities of care" in an unsafe world. How do you think bodies that are involved in (radical) politicking can simultaneously grow as "safe spaces" for its participants?
A state or an institution by its means of existence, by its very definition, cannot ‘include’. It’s a system built on exclusion often existing on a broad concept of merit- whether economic, social or cultural. What we have within India is a couple of institutions that are earnestly trying to reach global rankings in the academic universities annual list and while caste is not considered as a factor, diversity in student population especially gender diversity and race is considered an important factor. While caste is not a factor that affects such rankings, the problems that co-occur with caste such as suicides and harassment often impact safety ratings making the campus unsafe and thus affecting ratings. I think at least Indian university rankings must consider caste as a factor in their ratings, if for nothing else but for the safety of Dalit students. Right now, it’s a whisper network and unfortunately, we are not organised enough to reach everyone in the community.
This form of token inclusivity was stark in my master’s. My alma mater (both in its Latin meaning and common usage) was highly gender inclusive in their master's and doctoral programs and they tried hard every year to have a balanced gender ratio both in the faculty and B.Tech students. We had printouts of gender ratio statistics posted across campus and it was addressed in most student-administrative meetings. However, caste was a gaping hole, neither did students raise it and those that did raise such questions faced difficult consequences both academically and socially within campus. Progress cannot be achieved with tokenism’ or token representation (meaning just because one is born Dalit) which seems to be occurring in places in India.
Student communities like ASA act like safe havens. It’s one thing to not know communities like ASA exist and get into HCU (Hyderabad Central University) but to know such a place exists and to choose campuses based on the presence of an active Dalit community is different. I had visited the campus briefly in 2023 twice but in that short period, I was truly in awe with the work they were doing and in some ways they seemed good at communicating with each other. This felt like beautiful Dalit leadership. There were Dalit women who even if they didn’t have the bandwidth due to obvious familial constraints of gender and caste- ASA comrades and many men amongst them supported Dalit women to stand for a council positions promising support which no doubt is followed through. ASA members' work sometimes feels like a full-time job in addition to a PhD or master's which is both a privilege and responsibility. Because, if you have to work outside the campus to make a living, perhaps you might not be able to take on many of the responsibilities that ASA members do. For example, ASA is involved in every student decision with hostels, mess, administration, and faculty- they have gained a certain negotiating power built carefully over the years. It’s this structure that allows it to be a community rather than a student body legitimized by an institution. Power structures created by extant power structures rarely dismantle structures of oppression because their existence in power is rooted in oppression. Radical politics must involve but foremost question power and authority. What we have currently, in the name of inclusivity and false allyship is building bridges with the same people who have generationally burnt the bridges. We may choose kindness- rebuild the bridge and walk away, but the minute we step on the bridge or if not us, someone like us steps on that bridge, it is burnt. We cannot keep labouring because we are human, labour is only a small aspect of our lives. Care, love and affection are intrinsic needs that have never been and still have not been addressed by the largely savarna (Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya and OBC castes) owned and run mental health model in India. It is my focus that we build bridges within our community and ASA is one of those communities which has consistently done that work.
Tell me about the exclusionary aspects of the Trans Persons (Protection of Rights) Act. Sex work is work but this Act marginalizes those who engage in it, as it does with beggary. There is a Victorian/Brahmanical notion of purity and dignity attached to it. Can you elaborate a bit on your thoughts on the intersection of class, caste, gender, and sexuality pertaining to this Act?
We seem to have left behind many aspects of colonial (i.e. Victorian ideas of femininity which were only accessible to a small section of white upper-class people) socialisation. Yet, the brahminical aspects have remained. The fairly recent revisionist tendencies of Hindu culture speak not only of women playing an important role within the Hindu mythological tradition but are unsurprisingly focusing on gender fluidity by invoking stories of many gender-fluid examples such as Shikhandi, Mohini, Budha (Mercury), Ila. And, there is an associated divinity to all of these stories. Yet, it is hard to find if Ekalavya had a divinity associated with him or Nishads (the closest meaning would be forest-dwelling people) or Hidimbi.
The trans act has many progressive measures in terms of employment and education. Before it became an act, when it was tabled as a bill- there were multiple groups across India- many activists, scholars, researchers, and trans community members who worked in consultation with each other to send recommendations to the government. There were protests for not letting the bill pass as an act because it required a government and medical agency to affirm one’s gender instead of self-identification (self-determination of gender is present in the 2014 NALSA judgement and 2015 report by the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights). An additional claim which found little support was a horizontal reservation for trans and non-binary people because employment and education policies of the state pushed for inclusion using a reservation policy. And, those of us accessing opportunities for education and employment are quite aware of the casteism that exists at all levels of private and public education and employment. Due to the visibility and work of decades of trans, non-binary queer folks, we have representation in many places of employment and education today. There are repeated social media coverage on queer, trans-nonbinary people occupying such spaces, yet it would be hard for you to find one such movement for Dalit cis folks. It is not to say that Dalit cis people are not represented in workspaces and education, but it happens at the expense of hiding their caste identity. At best, it is ‘working class’ people for social media purposes. Dalits find themselves grouped as a homogenous category in the reports that go for grants, not in everyday recognition of their achievements or contributions. Because, saying Dalit manager or data scientist is not revolutionary as saying trans queer manager, producer or scientist. While, I understand the former is an identity foisted upon us, the question is why is identity first for gender and sexuality and not caste? Are we not acknowledging the struggles of a long oppressed group when we say ‘women writer’ or ‘trans activists’? And, that’s a consciousness that has not seeped into our society yet.
The fight for horizontal reservation is still being debated within the trans community but we already have the sub-categorization debate without a national level caste census. It should be shameful for the honourable judiciary to engage in such debates when reservation in public institutions has been systematically circumvented, equal opportunity cells (SC/ST cells) do not exist in most educational institutions, and SC/ST funds have been diverted, misused or completely scrapped.
The trans act also is inadequate in addressing problems trans people face in everyday employment and education. For example, it does not have provisions for medical leave when someone is undergoing gender-affirming surgery or procedures which for most people span years. Neither is there adequate public healthcare infrastructure in India that addresses the physical and psychological needs of trans and non-binary folks who choose gender affirmation procedures. There is still hardly any public university campus that will address the safety of a trans person adequately. While there have been large leaps in addressing trans rights through the trans act, it still has many flaws both in its conception and execution which can only occur with the restructuring of the present savarna heteropatriarchal system.
On your social media account, you speak about rage turning into exhaustion and the theoretical slipping into the visceral. This made me think of a book a colleague from Strathclyde recently published titled Burnout. In the struggle to create a better world, setbacks are inevitable. In theory and praxis, how does one keep on going? Who (or what) inspires you in your work?
Continuing from my previous answer, inadequate mental health practices have rendered Dalit people quite helpless in navigating burnout and exhaustion. In a society where families become the primary support of love and care, one may not require outside intervention. But, that’s not the case with Dalit families. Most of them are still struggling to survive, the ones outside the survival model are building a better life (respectable life) apart from doing active ‘visible’ anti-caste work. However, it is my opinion that anti-caste work should solely not be the work of educating savarnas. Caste annihilation requires deep self-reflection and self-reflexivity. It will not come merely by inter-dining and inter-marrying (I quote from Babasaheb Ambedkar) or in the present context- being in a polycule of savarnas or partying with them. It is folly to think if we appeal to the sympathy of savarnas, if they see us as humans or friends or lovers or partners that caste will disappear. It may disappear for me- X as an individual. Just because a savarna loves me or hates me has no bearing on the larger community. We cannot coerce someone into love. Both, in theory and praxis, it is the community’s larger well-being that keeps me going and when I mean community that includes me too. My larger inspiration is always my community, especially Dalit women and trans and non-binary folks. I have had the incredible fortune and kindness to know some of them and their love, affection, and care for me has come not because I was a close associate, colleague or friend- it has happened because they saw me also as a fellow Dalit person in the community. Swati Kamble, Christina Dhanaraj, Kiruba Munusamy, Thenmozhi Soundarrajan, and Riya Singh are all women whose work I deeply admire but more importantly, are unapologetic Dalit women who are unwavering in their feminist stand which helped me survive. Grace Banu, Akhil Kang, Dhrubo Jyothi, Dhiren Borisa, Aroh Akunth, Prajwal Gaikwad, Hritik Lalan, Chanchal Kumar, Prateek Draik, Parth Pawar, Shoi, Purusharie, Prashant Bhaware, Shripad Sinnakar, Kiran Nayak, Sandeep Mangwana (Sal ‘Aura’) and so many more incredible Dalit Queer people are people I have had the opportunity to work and exist in community with. Some of them are younger than I am but apart from having held other people in the community have also held me and holding themselves beautifully. And, I’d be amiss to not mention the incredible win we have in 2024 by Dalit political representatives and represent a new milieu in the Indian political system- Chandrashekar Azad, Varsha Gaikwad are some of the people I follow closely. Rahul Sonpimple is building a political party as well which I hope grows and remains sustainable. We have an incredible legacy with Thirumavalavan, Mallikarjuna Kharge and Mayawati who have been exceptional in their Dalit assertion and I see the new people entering the Indian political system as hope regardless of the criticisms (both within the community and outside of it). And, inevitably some wonderful Dalit men and upper caste allies who have been incredible in their work and I learn from every day.
My work has always been led by my first teachers- my parents- Bharathi and Chandran whose commitment to the Dalit community always came first which included the family but also beyond that in their workspaces and political organising. And, during times of doubt and pain- I always turn to Babasaheb’s work primarily due to his accessibility of texts in English but perhaps in equal measure if not more has been Iyothee Thassar’s thoughts deeply reflected in Pa. Ranjith’s filmography which I take great comfort in my everyday writing and work.
Circling back to the idea of "safe spaces," The Dalit Circle in Bengaluru sounds like such a space. Its poster invites participants to meet, share, and "exist in the presence of the community." Can you tell me a little about how these processes can be healing?
We had two Dalit circles in Bengaluru, the idea is for more such spaces to evolve. Some may think that such spaces occur without a formal way of organising but I disagree. Merely because, for at least a decade of being involved, building and organising anti-caste spaces, I saw a huge vacuum where Dalits could be in community amongst themselves. There is always that one well-meaning savarna ally who we are supposed to include in such gatherings or someone who has ‘worked in caste’ and hence included or spaces where OBCs are included because of a large, vague and often undefined Bahujan tag or just the fact that “we” seem to be somewhat responsible for creating cohesive inclusive spaces where caste does not matter. However, this burden seems to fall squarely on our shoulders. The burden of inclusion and annihilation of caste is on savarnas, not us. Babasaheb’s phenomenal text “Annihilation of caste” is a text for savarnas, his call for destroying the sanctity of shastras which speaks of caste is a solely savarna problem. We don’t have familial access to shastras nor are our ways aligned to it and thus we have to, especially Dalit men need to get over this ‘Jesus’ complex or a saviour complex where they envision a future with no caste and hence attempt to make all anti-caste spaces as inclusive. While I have no problems with such spaces, the violence and micro aggressions that repeatedly occur in such spaces have no redressal at all. Unfortunately, Dalit men have not recognised this except for a few of them because largely political-social organising is still being led by Dalit men. When I read accounts of Intergenerational trauma (IGT), I’m still amazed at how Native American, Indigenous, and Black people have kept community healing and care at the centre of their self-actualization and community actualization. This has been the trajectory for most oppressed people in the world. We cannot heal from our wounds by showing how deep our cuts are to the one who inflicted them upon us knowingly or unknowingly with intent or without intent. We heal with our people or we don’t heal at all.
Your piece for The Quint: Attaining Dalit Personhood Essential for Expression of Desire & Intimacy made me think of my own experiences as an intercaste womxn with Dalit ancestry. I instinctively feel the words: "Desire for a Dalit is dangerous territory." (Telling those I dated as a teenager back in India that I had Dalit blood was such a traumatic/scary thing for me - even though I also had Iyengar ancestry and the privileges that came with it, I always felt like I'd be rejected because of my Dalitness. But I later learned to wear my Dalitness proudly on my sleeve. That undid my own blockages and preconceptions about others). From an anti-caste perspective, what are your thoughts on love, sex and intimacy as a liberatory force? Do you think inter-caste love can help transcend the ascriptions of caste?
I am quite wary of suggesting inter-caste love as a liberatory force. Simply because love operates without a definition. The savarna you love, adore and have affection for still exhibits casteist behaviours. Thus, as I expanded above, your love for a savarna as a Dalit person is not translatable to all Dalit people. There is no assurance that a child of intercaste love and relationship will become Buddha and love all beings. It’s a fantastical wish which I see some Dalit people (esp. some Dalit men) expounding continuously and I refuse to believe such a lie. As an example, savarna women portrayed in films like Pareiyerum Perumal’s Jo or Sairat’s Archi are terrible examples of such a union. For every Mari Selvaraj who considers marrying a woman from another caste as liberatory, we (as in Dalit women and Dalit trans-non binary folks) will have stories of how these exact women are incredibly casteist. And, there’s this idea that if Dalit people are living, loving or experiencing intimacies of love and care amongst themselves, it’s akin to the endogamy practised by savarnas. A lie and a logically preposterous idea- we have no lands and riches to hoard within ourselves to practice endogamy. In my conceptualisation of Dalit radical love, you are healing each other because you choose to see each other and acknowledge the pain caste has caused you and generations of our families. We cannot spend our lifetimes patiently explaining the trauma of caste or the problems savarna ancestors have caused us which inevitably occurs because intimacies require vulnerability. The section which propounds Dalit-savarna relationships asks that we stand in obeisance to those that hold knives stained with blood- it doesn’t matter if it is fresh blood or old, stained blood. And, it is not something I align with at all or think of as a solution for annihilation of caste.
It is still not a possibility in modern India to say you are Dalit and not have an instance of casteism occur within intimate relationships (re: trolling that occurred with Manisha Mondol). The freedom concerning casual sex, polyamory, intimacy, love and relationships is still largely contained within privilege and Dalit women and Dalit trans, non-binary folks are not a part of this system. The fear of intimate partner abuse still looms large for many of us and I’ve known Riya Singh to have publicly spoken about it, Swati Kamble had written a personal account more than a decade ago and another Dalit woman recently spoke about abuse with an OBC man (associated with a progressive anti-caste organisation) publicly as well. One way to look at it is to see how much Dalit femme bodies are taken for granted. If we are to talk about the ascriptions of caste, what are they? Is it merely being born to Dalit parents/ Dalit parent? Or is it also all the structural ways of not having support- socially, culturally, economically, familial that decides what makes one Dalit which inevitable contributes to dehumnaisation under the garb of intimacy and love.
The ascription of caste is difficult to overthrow for the casteist mind. I think love can overcome many things, caste may be one of them but the effort has to occur from the oppressor. Yet, that cannot happen in relationships because reciprocity needs to occur as a necessity without which all relationships face death. We have to teach ourselves to love as Dalit people before running to save an oppressor from the chains of caste that they have voluntarily bound themselves to because privilege serves them.
You write: "The heart is stationary but is required to move in ways that will always be difficult for us. But I hope to move it with (a few) people who also move their hearts with us mak[ing] this journey easier." What were your thoughts when you wrote this? This rings true of friendships, forms of allyships, intimate relationships, and communities of care.
I do not remember my thoughts when I wrote this. But, I would say that it is difficult to live as a Dalit person especially as one who is vocal about one’s Dalit identity. One is sure to face exclusion, anger, disengagement, humiliation or any other forms of oppression foisted upon them. To be able to carry kindness and love, especially in the face of everyday unkindness, which is to say to make your heart immovable is easy. It is the only way to guard oneself from unimaginable pain and heartbreak. But, when we see another person who experiences pain and suffering, we know we cannot stand still. The monster is not only the one who engages in acts of violence, the monster is also one who stands still when another suffers and does nothing. Communities are built around and with people who need each other but that first requires us to admit to each other that we need each other.
I read your article titled: The Idea of Disability and Its Casteist Origins for Revival Disability Magazine. The idea that one is personally responsible for one's disability has been reinforced in Indian culture, you point out, through the notions of karmic cycles and circularity of existence. You ask: "Could we declare that disabled people are writing themselves into existence now?" The article also contains a worksheet to unlearn ableism. Affirming identities of gender, sexuality, neurodivergence and disability can be polluted by caste, you write: "caste can never be an affirming identity and that's when we start unlearning our own biases and prejudice we carry towards ourselves." I don't really have a question to ask, except to say to everyone reading this, to also read this very pertinent article.
Yes, I wrote this a couple of years ago around the same time I was facilitating workshops around the same theme. I’m neurodivergent, queer, non-binary and Dalit. Out of all these identities, I can remember every identity except Dalit being an affirming identity in public. When a Dalit stands in protest with a poster of “I’m Dalit” it is an assertion, not an affirmation. It is an identity marked with disgust in its very origin and there is nothing to reclaim which is also why I understand the need with which so many of my community are eager to leave that word behind. Yet, I know even in death, our identities follow us. My grandmother was buried in a graveyard where Dalit bodies were buried. My parents chose to forego such indignation and wanted to be burnt. And, that seems to be the only solution for us that- to be completely eviscerated into nothing because ‘Dalit’ occupies every part of my being- my mind, my body and my work. If you ask me today, I would say Dalit is an affirming identity for me personally, because the act of saying so is resistance which I will not forego under any circumstance.
Finally, I want to talk to you about Dalit femininity - a concept we discussed when I interviewed you for Smashing the Patriarchy. In your article for Revival Disability Magazine, you also briefly discuss agency and choice. About how for a Brahmin/Savarna womxn, being soft or rough is a choice, but for a Dalit womxn it's not. Could you tell me a little more about how this pans out in political/academic/artsy spaces?
What is Dalit femininity? The savarna patriarchal world has never let Dalit femininity exist freely. While theoretically, we are aware that Dalit women and Dalit trans-non-binary folks face the lowest rung in the ladder of privilege, it does not seem to translate in any space. I see vacuous conversations regarding savarna women oppressed by their family structures which are undeniably patriarchal and occur due to caste. And, again referring to Mari Selvaraj who mentions in an interview that Jo (the female character in Pareiyrum Perumal who seems to trot around not knowing caste or casteism’s existence; every Dalit woman has possibly dreamt of living in such blissful ignorance, I think) that she is in a much more difficult situation. And, Jyothi in Maamannan who is married to Fahadh Faasil is also in the same difficult situation. Mari Selvaraj explains in an interview that these two characters are interlinked. One interpretation is that Jo eventually gets married to someone from a dominant caste becoming Jyothi. It is undeniable the violence savarna women face from their casteist families, but, the solution cannot be the casteless Dalit man who saves them. Because abuse is prevalent within Dalit homes as well. Who is saving the Dalit woman? The Dalit sister? The Dalit trans non-binary child?
In the recent RG Kar sexual violation that occurred, the entire country protested. Just days later, a Dalit girl younger than the RG Kar doctor was brutally violated. At the time of writing this response, there has already been multiple instances of Dalit girls and women gang-raped, sexually violated and killed. (UP, Rajasthan, Lucknow, Agra, Bulandshahr, UP) .
The first protest that happened in Bengaluru on August 15 for the RG Kar doctor had multiple Dalit organisations and people who showed up in protest. And, when the news of sexual assault about the Dalit girl from Bihar came just days after, there was nothing.
When I asked one of the organising groups about addressing the Dalit girl’s rape, they sent me a poster where the Dalit girl’s incident was mentioned as if it was an afterthought in the sixth paragraph mentioned in one line. It’s a line in a paragraph that came after mentioning several other women who received the media’s attention after experiencing sexual abuse and violation. They responded by saying it’s something they will communicate with the rest of the team and they are “regularly attempting to make these connections…and it's definitely the direction one must take this conversation.” There have been multiple protests in Bengaluru after August 15 but none centered on the Dalit girl and neither was there any protest for BSP Tamilandu’s chief Armstrong’s murder who was killed on July 5th 2024 in Bengaluru. Perhaps the outrage for the RG Kar incident was more so because the violation occurred in a city with someone who is in a respectable social profession. Then, who was Anitha?
Most violations of Dalit women occur near their homes, the fields they go to, and places of study and work. Perhaps, it’s easy for civil society to look the other way because they feel they cannot help these women. After all, the exploitation of Dalit bodies is an everyday spectre. Dalit women’s exploitation occurs every day in insidious ways that it has become a part of the system we have built and it does not seem to move our consciousness in any manner.
When the Hathras incident happened, I remember that a couple of women collectivised which included Dalit, Adivasi, and OBC women. We had some updates on what occurred, who was on the ground, who was speaking to the family but many including me were frozen for days. What one does not understand is how much it impacts a Dalit woman to hear another sister experienced such brutal bodily violence and her abusers burnt her out of existence. We are deemed so unnecessary, almost as a blight of society that it is not just the brutalisation of the body with sex that carries no love but also the fact that our bodies are so immaterial to be thrown around and brutalised after death. So what remains of Dalit femininity except for in songs and poetry that glorify our struggles?