In matters of religion and politics, the line between one’s personal and public will is slim. For a state like Karnataka, which boasts of value-based secular and intelligent politics, aberrations like the agitations against the imposition of Hindi in Namma Metro, controversy over ‘state flag’ and, more recently, the Lingayat–Veerashaiva rift have left intellectuals and political pundits wondering where politics is headed.
The ruling party equivocally claiming that secularity lies at the heart of all these issues only makes its intentions harder to understand. Like many other cases, the Lingayat–Veerashaiva rift too comes down to numbers suggesting the intelligent way of fighting certain myths to replace it with the other. Anyone unaware of the nuances of this debate might be overwhelmed by its self-perceived complexity; in earnest, it is not as complex as it appears.
Recall the latest caste census in Karnataka and the debate that followed its publication. It was the second exercise of its kind in independent India. In 2011, the central government initiated the nationwide Socio-Economic Caste Survey but the survey in Karnataka was of a different kind: it was primarily about the changing demographics of caste and communities.
The census showed that the Scheduled Castes were the single biggest caste group in the state, a record that dealt a blow to the then-widespread assumption that Lingayats/Veerashaivas were the most populous community. In fact, they had come in a close second at 17% trailing behind the SCs at 18% but with a comfortable lead over the Vokkaligas who, at 12%, held the third place.
However, the current scenario promises to paint a different picture yet: SCs, with 180 sub-castes and a population of 10.8 million, remain at the top but are now followed by Muslims, with 84 sub-castes and a population of 7.5 million (12.5%), who have relegated the Lingayats/Veerashaivas to the third spot despite the latter’s 90 sub-castes and 5.9 million population (9.8%).
The remaining numbers are occupied by the Vokkaligas (10 sub-castes, 4.9 million in population – 8.16%), Kurubas (two known sub-castes, 4.3 mn – 7.1%), Scheduled Tribes (105 sub-castes, 4.2 mn – 7%), Brahmins (three known sub-groups, 1.3 mn in number – 2.1%), Besthas, Bedas, Idigas, Vishwakarmas, Gollas, Upparas and Agasas (2.5%, 25%, 2.3%, 1.8%, 1.3%, 1.2% and 0.9%, respectively) all of which traditionally have no affiliation to any political party. If these numbers are to be trusted, then a political churning is coming. It is only a question of when.
Karnataka has long been expected to brew new political alliances and new, polarised views as a result of this census. Dominant social groups, particularly the Lingayats/Veerashaivas and the Vokkaligas, who were politically united until the 1990s and who fought elections against the OBCs, Dalits and Minorities, are now divided with everyone vying for a majority position in governance.
The two leading communities of the state, particularly after the 2004 elections, have consolidated themselves behind the BJP and the JD(S) with the Lingayats/Veerashaivas remaining active in the BJP and the Vokkaligas supporting the JD(S). This set-up reached a peak around the 2008 assembly elections. Besides this, there is also a geographical divide: the BJP politics remains centred on Lingayats/Veerashaivas as a dominant factor in northern Karnataka and the JD(S) with its Vokkaliga-base is concentrated in the districts Mysuru, Mandya, Hassan and others in southern Karnataka.
Despite both these groups making efforts to show otherwise, there is little to suggest that political unity thrives among each of their sub-groups. Among the BJP’s 224 assembly seats following the 2008 elections, more than 90 (120) came from Lingayat/Veerashaiva-dominant areas; for the JDS, 22 of its 26 seats came from Vokkaliga heartlands. To put it into perspective, in the present assembly, the representation that these two communities is merely 103 (53 Vokkaligas and 50 Lingayats out of 224).
Electoral strategy
Following the Nanjangud byelection, these equations of cast came to the fore once again, with many Lingayat leaders renewing their demand for separate religious status. With the Dalits in Karnataka making up 23% of the population, the Kurubas 7.1% and the Muslims 12.5%, the strategy to divide the larger community won favour with the ruling party since having a Lingayat–Veerashaiva dichotomy would favour them in terms of an electoral strategy.
This move on the Congress’ part seems to hit two birds with one stone: on the one hand, it dismantles the BJP’s claim that the Lingayats/Veerashaivas are a monolithic caste structure, with some jumping at the possibility of the minority tag, and on the other, it helps dethrone the state BJP president as the sole leader of the Lingayat/Veerashaiva community. This will, in all likelihood, have a ripple effect in north Karnataka.
As a party in power currently unable to effectively project a Lingayat/Veerashaiva front for the coming election, the Congress badly needs this upper hand. It will benefit them considerably unlike showcasing photos of Basaveshwara in government offices or renaming of a certain Women’s University after Akkamahadevi – neither of which can help the party win votes.
Fortunately for them, this community-led demand for a separate Lingayat identity has come at the right time and, if used cleverly, promises to fill the gap left by a handful of high-profile leaders who left the Congress to join rival parties. Indeed, leaders from these communities are still silent, understandably at a loss as to what stand to take.
The Congress, in the hands of Chief Minister Siddaramaiah, working to change its image strategically, seems to have given an apt reply to the culture and religion-driven politics of the BJP speaking for the ‘liberation’ of Lingayats and Veerashaivas from the exploitative nature of the Hindutva ideology – speaking in possibly the only language its opponents seem to comprehend. And just like that, the Congress’ message is clear: cultural politics is nobody’s monopoly.
(The writer, a political analyst, teaches political science at Karnatak University, Dharwad)
The ruling party equivocally claiming that secularity lies at the heart of all these issues only makes its intentions harder to understand. Like many other cases, the Lingayat–Veerashaiva rift too comes down to numbers suggesting the intelligent way of fighting certain myths to replace it with the other. Anyone unaware of the nuances of this debate might be overwhelmed by its self-perceived complexity; in earnest, it is not as complex as it appears.
Recall the latest caste census in Karnataka and the debate that followed its publication. It was the second exercise of its kind in independent India. In 2011, the central government initiated the nationwide Socio-Economic Caste Survey but the survey in Karnataka was of a different kind: it was primarily about the changing demographics of caste and communities.
The census showed that the Scheduled Castes were the single biggest caste group in the state, a record that dealt a blow to the then-widespread assumption that Lingayats/Veerashaivas were the most populous community. In fact, they had come in a close second at 17% trailing behind the SCs at 18% but with a comfortable lead over the Vokkaligas who, at 12%, held the third place.
However, the current scenario promises to paint a different picture yet: SCs, with 180 sub-castes and a population of 10.8 million, remain at the top but are now followed by Muslims, with 84 sub-castes and a population of 7.5 million (12.5%), who have relegated the Lingayats/Veerashaivas to the third spot despite the latter’s 90 sub-castes and 5.9 million population (9.8%).
The remaining numbers are occupied by the Vokkaligas (10 sub-castes, 4.9 million in population – 8.16%), Kurubas (two known sub-castes, 4.3 mn – 7.1%), Scheduled Tribes (105 sub-castes, 4.2 mn – 7%), Brahmins (three known sub-groups, 1.3 mn in number – 2.1%), Besthas, Bedas, Idigas, Vishwakarmas, Gollas, Upparas and Agasas (2.5%, 25%, 2.3%, 1.8%, 1.3%, 1.2% and 0.9%, respectively) all of which traditionally have no affiliation to any political party. If these numbers are to be trusted, then a political churning is coming. It is only a question of when.
Karnataka has long been expected to brew new political alliances and new, polarised views as a result of this census. Dominant social groups, particularly the Lingayats/Veerashaivas and the Vokkaligas, who were politically united until the 1990s and who fought elections against the OBCs, Dalits and Minorities, are now divided with everyone vying for a majority position in governance.
Arguably, the main cause for the old union was that the Congress’ pro-poor policies (land reform etc) threatened their standing in society. With that era behind them, the Congress no longer factors it into the equation.
The two leading communities of the state, particularly after the 2004 elections, have consolidated themselves behind the BJP and the JD(S) with the Lingayats/Veerashaivas remaining active in the BJP and the Vokkaligas supporting the JD(S). This set-up reached a peak around the 2008 assembly elections. Besides this, there is also a geographical divide: the BJP politics remains centred on Lingayats/Veerashaivas as a dominant factor in northern Karnataka and the JD(S) with its Vokkaliga-base is concentrated in the districts Mysuru, Mandya, Hassan and others in southern Karnataka.
Despite both these groups making efforts to show otherwise, there is little to suggest that political unity thrives among each of their sub-groups. Among the BJP’s 224 assembly seats following the 2008 elections, more than 90 (120) came from Lingayat/Veerashaiva-dominant areas; for the JDS, 22 of its 26 seats came from Vokkaliga heartlands. To put it into perspective, in the present assembly, the representation that these two communities is merely 103 (53 Vokkaligas and 50 Lingayats out of 224).
Electoral strategy
Following the Nanjangud byelection, these equations of cast came to the fore once again, with many Lingayat leaders renewing their demand for separate religious status. With the Dalits in Karnataka making up 23% of the population, the Kurubas 7.1% and the Muslims 12.5%, the strategy to divide the larger community won favour with the ruling party since having a Lingayat–Veerashaiva dichotomy would favour them in terms of an electoral strategy.
This move on the Congress’ part seems to hit two birds with one stone: on the one hand, it dismantles the BJP’s claim that the Lingayats/Veerashaivas are a monolithic caste structure, with some jumping at the possibility of the minority tag, and on the other, it helps dethrone the state BJP president as the sole leader of the Lingayat/Veerashaiva community. This will, in all likelihood, have a ripple effect in north Karnataka.
As a party in power currently unable to effectively project a Lingayat/Veerashaiva front for the coming election, the Congress badly needs this upper hand. It will benefit them considerably unlike showcasing photos of Basaveshwara in government offices or renaming of a certain Women’s University after Akkamahadevi – neither of which can help the party win votes.
Fortunately for them, this community-led demand for a separate Lingayat identity has come at the right time and, if used cleverly, promises to fill the gap left by a handful of high-profile leaders who left the Congress to join rival parties. Indeed, leaders from these communities are still silent, understandably at a loss as to what stand to take.
The Congress, in the hands of Chief Minister Siddaramaiah, working to change its image strategically, seems to have given an apt reply to the culture and religion-driven politics of the BJP speaking for the ‘liberation’ of Lingayats and Veerashaivas from the exploitative nature of the Hindutva ideology – speaking in possibly the only language its opponents seem to comprehend. And just like that, the Congress’ message is clear: cultural politics is nobody’s monopoly.
(The writer, a political analyst, teaches political science at Karnatak University, Dharwad)