Savarkar-Ambedkar Samanvaya For Sanghatan: Possibility Or A Fallacy?

In his remarkably coherent and value-driven essay, 'Caste, Civilisation, Contradiction: Ambedkar and Savarkar Cannot Be Reconciled', Sri Sameer Prashanth Rao argues that contemporary attempts to harmonise Ambedkar's radicalism with Savarkar's civilisational pragmatism are exercises in intellectual futility. The humanistic depth of Rao's analysis, which unlike regressive pro-caste polemics centres its critique on the genuine Savarkarite stand of a casteism-less society, makes it necessary to evaluate whether his insistence on irreconcilability overlooks a potential, if arduous, path of Ambedkarite-Savarkarite Samanvaya toward that very shared goal of a healthy and strong Hindu society.

The Historical Roots of Sanghatan Samanvaya

One must first address the foundational premise: that the contemporary Right's embrace of Babasaheb is merely a strategic manoeuvre, a cynical co-option designed for the ballot box. Such a claim betrays a historical myopia regarding the organic currents of the Hindutva movement.

For those whose formative years were spent in the RSS Shakhas of the 1980s, an introduction to Dr Ambedkar was not found in state-sponsored textbooks, which then relegated him to a mere footnote, but in the Baudhik (pedagogy) sessions of the Sangh.

Crucially, this instruction was not predicated on a reactive reading of Ambedkar's critical views on Islam. Instead, it centred on the conviction that Bodhisattva Ambedkar's pursuit of a casteless society was an obligatory component of Hindu Sanghatan. This project of social harmony achieved without compromising social justice resonated profoundly with the foundational visions of both Dr Hedgewar and Veer Savarkar.

To suggest this integration is a recent electoral optic is to ignore a half-century of heartfelt effort that has made tremendous inner churning and path correction to understand, accept, and adapt to the mission of Bodhisattva Ambedkar, not as a contradiction to Hindu identity, but as its necessary spiritual fulfilment.

Annihilation of Caste for Sanghatan, Not Destruction of Dharma

Turning to the textual evidence, Rao leans heavily upon Annihilation of Caste (1936) to suggest that Dr Ambedkar viewed the caste system as the inseparable, negative core of Hindu Dharma. However, a more penetrative reading reveals a strategic nuance. Ambedkar's demand for annihilation was rooted in a profound concern for the "weak and meek" state of Hindu society. To him, caste was the primary inhibitor of Sanghatan and Shuddhi:

To Dr Ambedkar, therefore, the radical reorganisation of Hindu society through the annihilation of caste, which necessitates the mandatory dismantling of its supporting philosophy, was not merely a social preference. However well-entrenched that philosophy remained in the contemporary collective Hindu mind, he viewed its eradication as an existential necessity, essential for the civilisation's very survival in the impending storms of civilisational wars.

Crucially, in his vision, the dismantling of this hierarchy was a non-negotiable imperative of justice; it was a fundamental reckoning that should never be relegated to the status of a Savarna luxury, a matter of upper-caste convenience.

The Paradox: Injustice of Graded Inequality or Dharma Eternal

Now comes the centre of this discord, which is Rao's assertion of a terminal incompatibility between Veer Savarkar and Bodhisattva Ambedkar regarding the nature of Jaathi: the former viewing it as a later deformation which needed to be cured, the latter as the defining core of Hindu religion.

Dr Ambedkar's grim assessment was bolstered by the orthodoxy of the time, which held absolute dominion over the social order. These traditionalists viewed the Jaathi system and untouchability not as flaws, but as the essential pillars of Sanatana Dharma. In this struggle for the soul of the Rashtra, reformers lacked the institutional mandate; the 'power levers' remained firmly in the hands of those committed to a status quo of inhuman obscurantism.

The Excluded Shrine and the Denied Dignity

To understand Bodhisattva's eventual departure, one must first recognise the moral foundation upon which he initially stood.

Imagine the living room of a house. There are three chairs. You stand. You are not allowed to sit. There is a separate chair outside the room. You can sit on that chair but not here. Two men are sitting on the chairs. They are debating your right to occupy the third. One advocate asserts your inherent dignity; the other, who claims to possess the traditional title to the house, asserts you are intrinsically deficient and thus barred.

In a vacuum of logic, one might stay to litigate the claim. However, the reality of being barred from the Puja room of the house (the house shrine) proves your presence is tolerated only for numerical utility, not equality.

A person of fundamental dignity, realising the 'arbitrator of the house' views him or her as a 'deficient human', will vacate the premises. Dr Ambedkar understood that denial of the chair was axiomatically connected to exclusion from the house-shrine. He asserted that the temple, built on the collective sacrifices of all, must be open to all.

Following the stormy months of the Mahad Satyagraha in early 1927, Ambedkar sought to test the egalitarian claims of the Hindu social order through the lens of spiritual access. On 13 November 1927, presiding over a conference of the temple entry movement at the Indra Bhuvan Theatre in Amraoti, he delivered an address that was a heartfelt claim of equal rights in the temple of Hindutva to which all Hindus have shared contributions and sacrifices:

In this context, Dr Ambedkar was not an outsider of mainstream Hinduism; he was a co-architect of the 'Temple of Hindutva', demanding entry into a house his own ancestors had helped raise. This was the 'acid test' of Sanghatan: would the proponents of Hindu consolidation choose civilisational justice, or would they yield to the traditionalists who held the house shrine hostage?

The Stranglehold of Social Stagnation as Sanatana Dharma

In the wake of the famous Poona Pact signed between Dr Ambedkar and Mahatma Gandhi on 24 September 1932, a brief window of civilisational transformation seemed to open. Gandhiji, through the Congress, launched an intensive, nation-wide 'Harijan' emancipation programme, placing temple entry at the very heart of the social agenda.

Yet this moral momentum was met by an immovable wall: the traditionalist leadership.

From the Shankaracharyas to the Saivaite Adheenams, the orthodoxy presented a formidable and united front. They were unyielding in their conviction that the Shastras did not merely suggest, but explicitly commanded the exclusion of the 'untouchables'. This was not a passive disagreement; it was an organised, institutionalised resistance.

As Sanghatanists in particular and nationalists in general sought to bridge the chasm of caste, the keepers of the traditional power structures doubled down on a theology of exclusion, ensuring that the gates of the temple remained barred to those who had sacrificed most for the growth and glory of the faith.

The biography of one of the most esteemed Shankaracharyas of the South provides a stark record of this resistance. While the reformers struggled for legislative support, the orthodoxy organised a robust counter-offensive:

By 1933, when Sanghatanists Ranga Iyer, Har Bilas Sarda, and Bhai Paramanand introduced 'The Hindu Temple Entry Disabilities Removal Bill' in the Central Assembly, the British administration was alarmed.

Archival records of confidential communications from this period reveal a diabolical strategy of colonial obstruction. While the British administration possessed the ultimate power to quash the bill, they were loath to appear overtly reactionary or anti-reform. Instead, they sought a proxy to kill the bill.

The Dharmacharyas and the orthodoxy stepped in.

To create a façade of democratic consultation, the Government included the reform-minded Sanghatanists but went out of its way to solicit the opinions of every orthodox institution and self-styled Dharmacharya. These traditionalists, a spectrum of upper-caste interests including powerful feudal non-Brahmin Jaathis, presented a chillingly united front. Their verdict was unambiguous: Sanatana Dharma, as they defined it, left no room for the 'untouchable' within the Hindu temple.

A minor Shankaracharya from Belgaum even went to the extent of asking the Government to make legislation barring those who sought temple entry for the Scheduled Communities to be declared non-Hindus.

In this calculated political theatre, the British maintained the mask of impartial administrators while the orthodoxy provided the theological ammunition to kill the hope of reform. British officials like Harry Graham Haig privately gloated in 1934 about how they used the orthodoxy as a shield to defeat the Bill:

That was not entirely true. Many Depressed Class leaders including Swami Sahajananda were strong supporters of the temple-entry movement and many were frustrated by the delay.

A Message and a Letter

This was also the time the nationalist and reformist Savarna Hindu leaders sought stronger interactions with Dr Ambedkar.

In 1933, Mahatma Gandhi asked Dr Ambedkar to write a message for his magazine Harijan. Ambedkar wrote a crisp statement which was published in the 11 February issue. It was blunt and, more importantly, could be considered prophetic:

The 'coming struggle' that he had visualised was perhaps the Partition and the pre-Partition riots which were part of a well-planned strategy unleashed on a population of disunited Hindus. Along with his quest for justice, his constant worry was about the survival of Hindus, which led him on a search for an alternative that would bring unity among the Hindus of India without compromising on the dignity and self-respect of the Scheduled Communities.

This agony can be well seen in the text of 'Annihilation of Caste' itself. Originally written as a speech for the caste-removal conference of Arya Samaj, Dr Ambedkar wrote to the Sanghatanist Arya Samajis this, which remains relevant even today:

One can see the concern. One can see the penetrating understanding of the reality. Political independence or electoral victories, unless Hindus become internally strong and develop a spiritual fraternity of nationhood, the destruction of Hindu civilisation is always a looming reality in the near future.

In 1933 Dr Ambedkar received another invitation. This was from Veer Savarkar, still in Ratnagiri. He had invited Dr Ambedkar to visit and see the reformist work he was doing. Clearly Baba Saheb was aware of it. What he wrote back provided a comprehensive evaluation of Savarkar's work from an Avarna Hindu point of view. It was appreciative while at the same time pointing out the problematic part:

In this correspondence, one perceives a delicate interplay of two critical perspectives. Dr Ambedkar viewed untouchability not as an isolated grievance but as a systemic syndrome, necessitating a total reorganisation of Hindu society.

In his vision, there was no quarter to be given to the Chaturvarna system; he gently cautioned Savarkar against employing such terminology, fearing that even a reformed use of the concept could invite 'mischief' or be weaponised by the orthodoxy to maintain the status quo.

Yet, alongside this theoretical divergence, Ambedkar extended a rare gesture of validation. He acknowledged the profound significance of the work being spearheaded by the incarcerated freedom fighter, recognising in Veer Savarkar one of those rare visionaries who truly grasped the existential necessity of reconstructing the Hindu social order.

At the same time, while Savarkar occasionally invoked the language of Chaturvarna, he did so with the clarity of a pragmatist and considered it as non-essential to the core of Hindu Dharma and hence could and should be jettisoned:

A Convergence Missed

Herein seems to lie the central problem identified by Rao: the radical divergence in historical interpretation. Savarkar posited a 'tectonic shift' between the original Chaturvarna and the modern caste system, a transformation that, despite spanning millennia, suggested the current hierarchy was a corruption of an earlier form rather than an inherent feature.

However, Ambedkar's critique seems to be far more absolute. To him, Hinduism was an institutionalised system of inequality, thereby denying any conceptual sanctuary for such a distinction.

However, going deeply into the works of Ambedkar, one does find the interpretative latitude that allowed Savarkar to separate the spiritual essence of the Dharma from its discriminatory social manifestations.

Dr Ambedkar clearly wrote on many occasions that the Varna concept had an advantage of being worth-based. He clearly distinguished the original conceptualisation and implementation of Varna as being a very liberal phenomenon compared to the later-day degeneration into a rigid birth-based system of graded inequality: the present Jaathi system. For instance, in Annihilation of Caste itself he wrote:

Then he elaborates upon the impracticability of Chaturvarna as a functional social system. One might agree or differ, but the point is that he had also seen the initial worth-based nature of the system later giving place to a birth-based system, which is what the 'tectonic shift' Savarkar was referring to.

In his later writings, in the unfinished manuscript 'Revolution and Counter Revolution in Ancient India', Dr Ambedkar even developed a larger speculative theory of how the original worth-based Varna degenerated into the birth-based one, blaming 'Brahminism' for it.

According to him, Varna was originally decided by a kind of board of 'an independent body of people called Manu and Saptarshi' and it was temporary, only for four years, which was called the Yug. However, this was 'not based on prior training or close scrutiny of bias and aptitude' and was 'in a rough and tumble manner'. So soon this was replaced by the Gurukul method.

According to Ambedkar, at the end of a period of twelve years the student would undergo the Upanayan ceremony, 'the most important ceremony... at which the Acharya determined the Varna of the student and sent him out in the world to perform the duties of that Varna.'

And this declaration of Varna was not for a temporary period of four years but for the entire life. Yet it was not based on heredity. According to him, this was changed by the Smriti writers. Dr Ambedkar calls this phenomenon 'Brahminism':

A contemporary social historian would likely view this narrative with scepticism, as it is mostly a monocular theory of social evolution that simplifies the dense, non-linear complexities of Indian history. Ironically, this framing of positing a shift from a 'pure' meritocratic individuality to a 'corrupt' hierarchy unconsciously mirrors the classic Hindu archetype of temporal degeneration, wherein a pristine Satya Yuga inevitably decays into a fractured Kali Yuga.

The Stranglehold of Traditionalist 'Authority'

The Hindu Mahasabha often found itself vacillating, caught between a natural inclination toward reformism and the staggering inertia of tradition. Initially, nearly all its provincial branches rallied behind Ranga Iyer's bill, a legislative effort to criminalise the exclusion of Scheduled Communities from temples and shared civic amenities like water bodies. However, this momentum was blunted by a fierce backlash from the powerful orthodoxy, forcing the party to soften its stance. As Koenraad Elst observes:

So when Savarkar became President, the body had been infiltrated tremendously by the traditionalists who were dead against any reforms. Savarkar had to proceed cautiously lest his zeal sabotage the very Sanghatan within the movement.

Veer Savarkar remained unequivocally opposed to the practice of untouchability. In his 1938 Presidential address to the Hindu Mahasabha, he condemned it as a 'suicidal social custom'.

By 1939, while detailing the action plan for Hindu Sanghatanists, his primary directive was to 'Remove Untouchability'. Yet the political reality of the era necessitated a newfound caution. Savarkar stated:

In a striking concession to the traditionalists, he then added:

Despite this compromise, Savarkar recognised the reformist fire within the movement, granting Sanghatanists the autonomy to challenge the status quo: "But those Hindu Sanghatanists who are convinced of the incalculable harm untouchability has done and is doing should be free to act up according to their own conscience in their own dealings."

Understanding the existential urgency of the crisis, he even suggested that Sanghatanists might cooperate with Gandhians, despite deep ideological rifts, to eradicate untouchability on a war footing:

It is a poignant historical irony that while the Arya Samaj and the Hindu Mahasabha were initially more supportive of Ranga Iyer's Bill than the Congress, the sheer weight of the orthodoxy by 1939 forced even a firebrand revolutionary like Savarkar onto a cautious path. This tactical retreat, necessitated by internal pressures, underscores the immense power the traditionalists wielded, even as the Mahasabha's leadership fully grasped the vital necessity of radical social reform.

Ambedkar understood a very important principle here.

The Civilisational Diagnosis: Savarkar and Ambedkar

One need not treat the pronouncements of Dr Ambedkar or Veer Savarkar as 'Vedic truths' to recognise a profound convergence in their historical analysis. (This writer, himself a declared Ambedkarite, has challenged the view of Dr Ambedkar that the Gita was the text of counter-revolution, both in his book and in an article here.)

Both thinkers posited that a "tectonic shift" occurred within the Hindu social fabric: a transition from a Guna-Karma (merit and action) framework of Varna to a rigid, birth-based system of caste. While Ambedkar attributed this transformation to the deliberate engineering of what he termed "Brahmanical forces," Savarkar largely bypassed the mechanics of historical blame, focusing instead on the contemporary reality of this decadence.

Paths of Resolution: Reform versus Reconstitution

Despite their shared diagnosis that caste must be abolished, their prescriptions for the future diverged based on their disparate assessments of Hindu potentiality.

Ambedkar challenged the Hindu fold to undergo a radical structural reorganisation as a prerequisite for its survival; should this fail, he viewed the migration to an alternative spiritual tradition as a moral and existential necessity.

In contrast, Savarkar sought to reassure the Savarna (caste-Hindu) establishment that the destruction of birth-based Varna would not signal the death of Hinduism, but rather its revitalisation. For Savarkar, the essence of the faith remained intact even as its malignant manifestations of social stagnation, however venerated they might be, were purged, thereby negating the need for conversion.

Still, even the close collaborator of Veer Savarkar, Dr Balakrishna Shivram Moonje (1872–1948), understood the need for conversion.

The Pragmatic Consensus: Moonje-Ambedkar Statement

On 18 June 1936, Dr Moonje arrived at Ambedkar's residence for a thorough dialogue. In the quiet of that night, Dr Ambedkar articulated his position with a clarity born of long-suffering; Moonje conceded that the iron-hearted inhuman rigidity of the Hindu traditionalists, which continued to deny even the most elemental religious right of temple entry to the Scheduled Communities, left them with no recourse but the radical act of conversion.

By the following morning, the essence of Ambedkar's convictions had been distilled into a formal statement. Upon reviewing the document, Moonje expressed his acceptance, marking a convergence between the two leaders, culminating in a remarkable consensus centred on the Sikh Panth, a tradition considered as providing the egalitarian spiritual sanctuary Dr Ambedkar envisioned, while simultaneously upholding the civilisational continuity and national security imperatives that the Sanghatanists held dear and to which Ambedkar himself remained naturally inclined.

The statement outlined a cold, pragmatic assessment of the impending mass conversion of the 'Depressed Classes' and its implications for the Hindu community and the Indian nation. Three faiths were identified as viable alternatives: Islam, Christianity, and Sikhism.

The former two offered boundless financial resources, global social support, and existing political safeguards. However, choosing them would potentially lead to Muslim domination or the strengthening of British colonial hold. Sikhism, though financially and politically weaker outside Punjab, was identified as the optimal choice for the Hindu interest. Unlike the other two, conversion to Sikhism kept the Depressed Classes within the 'Hindu Culture'.

While opposing the conversion would be self-defeating for the Hindus, supporting it would lead to preserving the cultural unity and preventing the fragmentation of the Indic civilisational identity.

The following passage illustrates Dr Ambedkar's (and the signatory's) profound concern for the integrity of the nation and the security of Hindu society, even as his people were subjected to unjust treatment and were being forced to the exit:

The conversion to Sikhism was opposed by M.C. Rajah. Other Gandhians also opposed it strongly. Rajaji went to the extent of calling the decision of converting to Sikhism 'Satanic'.

In his response, buried among other things polemical and political, Dr Ambedkar again made an important civilisational statement. He opposed it because that allowed the Savarna Hindus to escape their reformation of Hindu society. Dr Ambedkar waited. He was also arriving at the idea of conversion to another Indic spiritual stream: Buddhism.

Conversion for Social Status: A Mockery of Spirituality?

The critique that conversion for social elevation lacks spiritual authenticity falters when applied to Dr Ambedkar. For him, the transition was never a quest for improved social status or material gain; it was a fundamental reclamation of human dignity, a pursuit that is inherently spiritual.

This distinction is illuminated by an exchange in the early 1940s with Swami Dharmateertha (born Parameswara Menon, who later embraced Christianity as John Dharmateertha). Dharmateertha urged Ambedkar toward Christianity, highlighting the "wherewithal" of the faith: its immense global resources, funding, and the institutional power to provide schools, hospitals, and churches.

Ambedkar's response was both gentle and profound: he likened converting from Hinduism to Buddhism to moving from one room to another within the same house, whereas converting to Christianity was akin to vacating the house entirely.

Despite the Christian spin given by G. Aloysius to apply a different lens to this dialogue, the "house" imagery remains a testament to Ambedkar's deep-seated civilisational commitment. It reveals a remarkable continuity in his thought: even in his radical departure, he sought a revolution that remained rooted in the soil of his ancestors.

To Ambedkar the Bodhisattva, the spiritual quest for equality did not require the abandonment of the Indic civilisational home, but rather a structural transformation of its interior.

Ultimately, when this quest for the collective spiritual basis for justice and human dignity resulted in the embracing of Buddha Dharma, again he pointed out:

'Hindu' Ambedkar's Savarkarite Definition

In 1923, while authoring his foundational treatise Hindutva, Veer Savarkar occupied a precarious intellectual space. He faced a dual assault: colonial administrators and Hindu traditionalists both insisted that the birth-based caste system was the essential marker of 'Hinduness'. Simultaneously, the Congress leadership was pivoting toward territorial nationalism to accommodate pan-Islamic interests, reducing Hindus to a mere religious demographic rather than a cohesive people.

Operating in an era where 'religion' was defined by Protestant standards and 'race' was viewed through the lens of the then-axiomatic Aryan Invasion Theory, Savarkar sought a definition that could salvage a unique, holistic Hindu legacy. He boldly rejected biological racial purity and Vedic orthodoxy as the common basis for identity:

Veer Savarkar's mature definition centred on an allegiance to India's sacred geography, viewing the land as both Pitrubhumi (Fatherland) and Punyabhumi (Holyland):

In 1941, Dr Ambedkar critically examined Savarkar's proposals with respect to partition. Though sceptical of the political alternatives to Pakistan, he was deeply impressed by the precision of Savarkar's civilisational boundary-marking:

This influence resonated years later when Dr Ambedkar drafted the Hindu Code Bill, adopting a near-identical legal framework:

By eschewing the colonial-traditionalist emphasis on caste and Vedic authority, clearly Savarkar-influenced Ambedkarite definitions established a 'Hinduness' that is at once Indic-centred, pluralistic, and resistant to monocultural stagnation. It also included Buddhism in the broader definition of Hindus.

What about His Contradictions?

He had praised the Vedas? He had also called the Vedas worthless. He had spared the Upanishads? No! There are passages where he considers the Upanishads as utterly useless for the society or the individual because their idle speculative thoughts have no impact on the morals, ethics, and spiritual evolution of Indian society.

Even within the same book, in a span of two pages, he starts by telling that Varna evolved into caste system and then contradicts that by telling caste system was not an evolution but a perversion of Varna. So how does one reconcile these contradictions?

We need not. But let us understand why such contradictions exist.

When he saw rank hypocrisy and injustice perversely using the sanctity of the Vedic texts, and when the monopolistic hold of casteist theoreticians used the spiritual splendour of the Vedic texts to derive their authority, he did call the Vedas worthless texts.

But the same Dr Ambedkar did not hesitate to write a short and appreciative preface for the book 'Rashtra Raksha ki Vedic Sadhan' (1948), just six years before his Parinirvana. This book was written by a scholarly saint and polyglot from Arya Samaj, Swami Vedananda Teertha (1892–1956). In this preface, Dr Ambedkar wrote:

Consider the cultural trajectory had Dr Ambedkar authored such a preface for a Christian, Islamic, or even a Marxist book. In those spheres, the work would have been meticulously preserved, annotated, and canonised. They would have bombarded the popular Indian consciousness with that work.

It is a sombre commentary on the Hindu collective that the book for which Babasaheb provided an introductory framework now languishes in obscurity. In all humbleness, this writer requests the Arya Samaj, in particular, to proactively reclaim this legacy by publishing new editions of this book and translating them into every Indian language to ensure its message is finally heard.

Again, while in one near-finished book on counter-revolutions one finds him critical of the Upanishads because he could find no impact of the Darshanas on society, yet we find that in his famous final speech at the end of the Constituent Assembly, he pointed out that the Buddhist Sangha's parliamentary democracy values and functioning were actually borrowed and adapted by Buddha from the society around him:

Incidentally, in his recent highly scholarly book on the Mahayana Buddhist roots of not just Christianity but almost all its important functional and structural components, Joe Agneya raises this question:

The central question remains: from what source did the Vaishali Ganarajya and other ancient republics derive their democratic values?

Nearly three-quarters of a century before contemporary scholars like Joe Agneya addressed this, the answer lay buried within the pages of one of Dr Ambedkar's most uncharacteristically abrasive works, 'Riddles in Hinduism'.

While anti-Hindu polemicists frequently weaponise passages from this book, and modern casteist detractors delight in citing them as proof of his supposed "abuse" of the faith, these fragments of an unfinished manuscript fail to capture the full breadth of Ambedkar's intellectual arc. Paradoxically, it is within these very pages that he offers his most profound tribute to Vedic-Upanishadic Hinduism.

In a striking reversal of his earlier assertion that the Upanishads lacked social efficacy, Ambedkar argues here that the Upanishadic Mahavakyas provided the spiritual and philosophical foundation for democracy not merely as a political structure, but as a way of life. By grounding the democratic ideal in the Upanishadic realisation of universal divinity in the individual self, he identifies a latent, egalitarian potential within the heart of the tradition itself.

The riddle is thus resolved. The Upanishadic spiritual foundation of democracy, predicated on the ontological equality of all beings, animated the social and political fabric of the pre-Buddhist Indian Ganarajyas. These republican values were subsequently adapted and refined by the Buddha; if the thesis of scholars like Agneya holds, these very ideals migrated westward, serving as a catalyst for the democratic traditions that would later define Western political thought.

It should be a matter of considerable pride for proponents of Hindu Sanghatan that one of the first to illuminate this holistic dimension of Ambedkar's critique was Madhukar Dattatreya Deoras (1915–1996), the third Sarsanghachalak of the RSS. Deoras did more than merely highlight these nuances; he contextualised Ambedkar's acerbic rhetoric as the anger of a concerned patriarch. He argued that Ambedkar's scathing indictments were born precisely from a profound frustration with a society that possessed such sublime Upanishadic truths yet persisted in the rank hypocrisy of social exclusion.

One can see this respect for Dr Ambedkar's genuine patriotism in Savarkar as well.

In 1942, seven years after Ambedkar's declaration that he would not die a Hindu, for the Golden Jubilee tribute to Ambedkar, Savarkar offers an elegant synthesis of Dr Ambedkar's role as both a social liberator and a civilisational asset. He characterises Ambedkar's erudition and leadership as 'outstanding assets', but places his highest value on the psychological revolution Ambedkar sparked. By instilling a 'manly spirit of self-confidence' in millions, Ambedkar did more than seek legal redress; he shattered the 'self-depression' of the marginalised, compelling them to challenge the 'super-arrogative claims' of the orthodoxy.

Savarkar frames this 'Herculean effort' not merely as a humanitarian act, but as an 'abiding patriotic achievement.' He argues that the eradication of untouchability is an existential necessity for the 'Pan-Hindu cause', asserting that social equality is the prerequisite for national solidarity.

One should note that, as a visionary Sanghatanist, Veer Savarkar dismisses Ambedkar's "anti-Hindu utterances" as secondary to the ultimate goal of Hindu Sanghatan. He suggests that by elevating the Depressed Classes to full citizenship, Ambedkar was fundamentally strengthening the nation's foundation.

To Savarkar, Ambedkar's radicalism was a cleansing fire, necessary to purge the 'suicidal social customs' that weakened the civilisation, thereby ensuring that the Temple of Hindutva remained resilient and unified.

The Problems of Authority

Hindu Sanghatanists have long strived for the wholesale destruction of untouchability, uprooting it 'lock, stock, and barrel'. Yet in pre-independence India, even the most elemental rights of the Avarna Hindus, such as walking on public streets, accessing communal ponds, or entering temples, became flashpoints for intense conflict between reform-minded Sanghatanists and the entrenched orthodoxy who called themselves Sanatanists.

Observing this historical friction closely, Dr Ambedkar identified a vital, structural principle.

This is the story of how an RSS ideologue learnt this principle at the feet of the Bodhisattva, and how a visionary Sanghatanist 'Guru' subsequently attempted to manifest it within society.

Dattopant Thengdi (1920–2004), who would later found the Bharatiya Mazdoor Sangh (BMS), maintained a profound and intimate bond with Dr Ambedkar, even serving as his election agent. During their deep deliberations on the caste question, Dr Ambedkar thoughtfully revealed what he perceived to be the "Achilles' heel" of the Hindu Sanghatan movement:

Thengadi reported this vital conversation to Madhav Sadashiv Golwalkar (1906–1973), whose initial traditionalist leanings were undergoing a steady transformation. This evolution was catalysed by the sobering realities of his Sanghatan experience and also the influence of Dr Ambedkar.

Guruji Golwalkar concurred with Baba Saheb Ambedkar when Thengdi put forth the same question to him:

Drawing upon the profound insights offered by Babasaheb, 'Guruji' M.S. Golwalkar sought to transform ideological alignment into a living movement. So in 1969 at Udupi he organised a conference of Dharmacharyas and passed a resolution against all forms of discrimination against Hindus.

In a poignant and cautionary letter to the conference secretary, Golwalkar underscored that the resolution by Dharmacharyas should be considered not as an end in itself but the beginning, a weapon against all forms of social stagnation and discrimination:

Golwalkar was a man of profound spiritual conviction, a practitioner who had formally received Advaita Diksha and held the Hindu pantheon in deep, personal veneration. Because of this intense devotion, the searing critiques Dr Ambedkar levelled against Hindu deities likely wounded him far more deeply than they would any modern, online defender of the faith. Yet Golwalkar possessed the spiritual maturity to look past the surface of that pain.

He recognised in Dr Ambedkar a towering patriot, a relentless humanist, and in the evocative phrasing of Koenraad Elst, 'a true Aryan' in the classical sense of noble conduct. It was this mutual, albeit tension-filled, recognition that compelled Golwalkar and his movement to remain in constant dialogue with the Bodhisattva.

In choosing to engage with Ambedkar's uncomfortable truths rather than retreating into reactionary defensiveness, they initiated a transformation from which the entire Hindu social fabric continues to benefit.

The Slander and the Study

Today, a section of reactionary Savarna Hindu casteists frequently brandish a specific volume as their definitive indictment of Dr Ambedkar. They laud Arun Shourie's 1997 work, 'Worshipping False Gods', as a well-documented and rigorously researched masterpiece.

In reality, the book is a quintessential example of Shourie's penchant for polemical slander. By surgically extracting historical facts, de-contextualising them, and then weaving them into a dramatic narrative, he presents skewed fragments as absolute facts. These are, at best, 'facts' shorn of their truth, hence half-truths that inevitably function as wholesale lies.

Here is a typical such 'factual' half-truth.

In 1941, amidst the upheaval of the Second World War, Viceroy Lord Linlithgow and Secretary of State Leopold Amery were creating an internal power structure: the Viceroy's Executive Council. In his critique, Arun Shourie characterises Dr Ambedkar's engagement with these colonial authorities as a pursuit of personal ambition and proximity to power. He argues that Ambedkar's primary goal was a seat on the Executive Council, and depicts him as becoming increasingly frustrated by the British administration's strategic delays.

According to Shourie, the British hesitated only to avoid alienating pro-war factions within the Congress, casting Ambedkar's political manoeuvres as a quest for position rather than a genuine effort to secure representation for the 'Depressed Classes'. He writes:

However, historical records provide a far more principled context. Biographer Dhananjay Keer reveals that Ambedkar was already serving in a significant national capacity, having been appointed to the Defence Advisory Committee in July 1941 alongside other prominent leaders.

His 'frustration' was actually a formal protest against the systemic exclusion of the Depressed Classes from the highest executive body. Keer notes:

Crucially, Ambedkar's demand was not a solitary pursuit of power.

Veer Savarkar, recognising the justice in the claim, actively supported him and 'wired to the Viceroy to include Ambedkar in the Executive Council' (Keer, p. 339). The contrast is undeniable: while Shourie interprets these events as personal dejection, the historical reality shows a coordinated effort by two national icons to ensure Scheduled Communities representation in the governance of India.

Does this mean Dr Ambedkar is beyond criticism? Definitely not. This is a land where we even question our Gods and Goddesses, Bodhisattvas and Tirthankaras.

So we can and should study Dr Ambedkar critically. As pointed out earlier, this writer, who is a self-declared Ambedkarite, has written critically of his study of Bhagavad Gita. My book 'A Dharmic Social History of India' is counter to Dr Ambedkar's characterisation and role of Buddhism in Indian history.

If one wants to know how to critically study Dr Ambedkar and also understand his importance to Hindu Sanghatan, one can study the chapter on Dr Ambedkar written by Dr Koenraad Elst in his book 'Indigenous Indians: Agastya to Ambedkar'. The chapter is titled 'Dr. Ambedkar: A True Aryan'.

While highlighting the important contributions of Dr Ambedkar, Dr Elst is also extremely critical of Ambedkar with respect to his historical analysis, his Vedic scholarship, etc. Regarding the Riddles, he does not mince words. He writes:

Elst is sceptical of the unrestrained and uncritical love Dr Ambedkar had for Buddhism. Elst the Indologist, with his broad and in-depth knowledge of Eastern religions and the history of the West, thoroughly deconstructs Ambedkarite Buddhism. In conclusion, the Belgian Indologist, whose contribution to scholarly as well as polemical Hindutva literature is tremendous, has this to say on Dr Ambedkar:

This writer himself is far more an admirer of Dr Ambedkar. Even Elst had not much touched upon the positive views Dr Ambedkar had expressed about Vedic and Upanishadic thoughts. That Deoras, the RSS head, had correctly identified this fundamental love Ambedkar had for Upanishadic thought, which even Elst the sharp scholar missed, shows why one needs a very Hindu heart to understand the Bodhisattva.