Kannada poet Siddalingaiah’s death on June 11 has left activists, academics and literature lovers bereft. Here, they tell Metrolife what his departure means to people’s movements and the world of literature.
Many spoke about his revolutionary anger in his early days, and his recent leanings towards the Hindu right, but even those who disagreed with his politics said he was humane and capable of bringing conflicting people together.
Friend, mentor and guide
S Japhet, former vice-chancellor of the Bengaluru Central University, says he owes his understanding of politics and society to Siddalingaiah.
“He introduced me to the realities of the world. He introduced me to Babasaheb Ambedkar and the Dalit movement,” he says. There isn’t a single person in Karnataka like him to have made a mark in poetry, activism and academics. “He was a great orator,” he says. “And his songs will inspire generations to come.” Siddalingaiah was a member of the Karnataka Legislative Council for two terms. “He is sometimes accused of being an opportunist, but he was not. He was a strategist and used every single democratic space available within the Constitutional framework to bring about reforms on behalf of the oppressed,” he says.
Siddalingaiah was widely read and had about 40,000 books in his library. He easily spent half his salary on books, says Japhet.
‘Endearing person’
Siddalingaiah’s poetry is a product of his time, and reflects the spirit of the Dalit movement, says V S Sreedhara, academic and activist.
The Navya poets (Modernists) found it difficult to accept him into the fold, but he made a place for himself, he says. Siddalingaiah had the poetic talent to use simple imagery and weave layers of meaning which make his poetry speak for all times. Even though slogan-like in some places, his poetry has a certain energy that other’s lacked. He recounts a verse, ‘Ambedkar can make the sleeping Dalit sit, but who will make them stand?” The ease with which he shared the dais with rabid communalists created unease, even bordering on suspicion. “Still, he was endearing and continued to raise a pro-people voice both inside and outside the Council,” says Sreedhara.
Unique voice
“The style of his early poetry continues to find mimics even today. While his autobiography, ‘Ooru Keri’ marked his departure from that style, his early poetry retains an iconic status in Dalit writing,” says Chandan Gowda, Ramkrishna Hegde Chair professor at the Institute for Social and Economic Change. His poetry expressed anger with a rhythm and style not seen before in Kannada poetry. “The Kannada literary world felt a transformative power because of his voice. He was welcomed into the mainstream Kannada literary establishment and has since become a part of the canon,” he says.
He demanded rights and cultural visibility within Constitutional parameters and avoided extremist radical mobilisation, of the sort seen in Andhra Pradesh and other parts of the country, Gowda says. A radical departure from his poetry in tone and vision, his autobiography offers a philosophy of being. “Its wit and moral equanimity gave it a spiritual dimension,” he says. What might appear to be a text of political passivity is, in fact, a working out of a vision of liberation without violence, he adds.
Authentic worldview
For novelist and playwright Vivek Shanbhag, it is humour that comes to mind first when he thinks of Siddalingaiah. “It was how he was trying to tell us about his world. Laughter was evoked, but it hurt,” he says.
Shanbhag likens the experience of engaging with his texts to that of watching Charlie Chaplin. ‘When we laugh, we are laughing at ourselves and the society we belong to,” he says. The Dalit world is one where pride, self-respect, anger and pain co-exist, and he was trying to give us a complete picture instead of focusing on just one aspect, he says.
“One who speaks a new language and breaks barriers and gives confidence to others. His first volume of poetry was published when he was only 21, and his poems became anthems for progressive movements,” he observes.
Complex legacy
Columnist Shivasundar says that he was inspired by the poet when he was growing up. “He was a pioneer of people’s poetry. He brought caste and class into Kannada literature that was otherwise Bhramanical in nature,” he says. The Dalit Sangharsha Samiti launched many initiatives to inspire a subaltern Renaissance.
While B Krishnappa was inspired by Ambedkar’s ideology, Devanuru Mahadeva was from a broad Lohiaite persuasion, and Siddalingaiah subscribed to Marxist ideology with a deep appreciation to Ambedkarite thoughts. Together, they moulded a generation, says Shivasundar, a columnist who has written extensively on resistance movements. “Siddalingaiah brought folklore and Dalit idioms and angst into literature. It was fresh and shocking initially, and later, it was celebrated,” he says.
He faced violence and death threats. It was when Ramakrishna Hegde became chief minister in 1985 that things began to change. Siddalingaiah moved away from people and took to light humour. While the co-opting of liberal and cultural stalwarts of the Kannada world by the state is not new, most writers desisted from supporting Hindutva politics. But Siddalingaiah’s unhesitating acceptance of Hindutva ploys was a shock and disappointment, he says.
Siddalingaiah did not care to oppose cooption and manipulation of Ambedkar and his thoughts by Brahminical-Hindutva forces, says Shivasundar. However, in the end, his contribution as a people’s poet is lasting. “He was an answer till ‘85 and became a question after that,” he says.