When Thiru P.J. Sabharaj convened his first public meetings in the late 1950s, he articulated a vision that was rare in Kerala’s political landscape. Caste, he insisted, could not be defeated through identity claims alone. Any meaningful anti-caste politics had to confront land ownership, labour relations, and control over the state. Advancing this vision of a casteless society, Sabharaj and his followers formed the Depressed Class United Front in 1958, later renamed the Dravida Class United Front (DCUF).
DCUF was not a Dalit organisation seeking symbolic recognition or moral redress. It was an explicitly materialist anti-caste project that read caste as a system structured through unequal control over land, labour, and state power, and organised around the redistribution of these resources. In doing so, it posed a fundamental challenge to both mainstream anti-caste politics and the dominant Left in Kerala.
The movement emerged from deep disillusionment. Many Dalit activists in mid-twentieth-century Kerala had joined communist organisations, drawn by their language of class emancipation and egalitarian promise. Yet in practice, the Left refrained from confronting caste relations directly, treating caste as a feudal residue that would dissolve automatically through class struggle. Sabharaj’s mobilisation meetings, held largely in Dalit-inhabited regions of Kottayam, Idukki, and Pathanamthitta, directly challenged this assumption. DCUF activists openly accused communists of preserving feudal caste relations beneath socialist rhetoric.
Their slogan captured this critique with biting clarity:
“Socialism on their lips.
Feudalism in their hearts.
Worshippers of feudalism,
Enemies of the New Era-
Your days are ending.”
Land reform in Kerala, DCUF argued, revealed this contradiction. Despite progressive claims, it largely benefited rent-paying tenants and newly emerging landed castes, while leaving landless agricultural labourers, overwhelmingly Dalit, outside its scope. By using monetary criteria such as the ability to pay tenancy as the measure of deservingness, the state reproduced caste inequality. DCUF viewed this as a betrayal: a reform that promised redistribution but left the material foundations of caste intact.
Breaking with Left parties that combined class rhetoric with paternalistic practice, DCUF nonetheless adopted Marxist tools — trade unions, study circles, collective discussions, while placing caste’s materiality at the centre of its politics. For DCUF, caste was not a cultural remnant awaiting historical extinction; it was an active system of dispossession that structured everyday life.
Sabharaj framed the movement’s ambitions as nothing less than a reorganisation of material relations. Caste, he argued, was rooted in unequal productive and reproductive relations, and any serious anti-caste struggle had to begin by transforming these conditions. DCUF leaders repeatedly stressed that such a project required cultivating class consciousness among the depressed classes themselves, recognising that caste’s internal divisions obstructed genuine solidarity.
This intervention complicates Kerala’s celebrated reformist narrative. Temple entry, legislative representation, and communist-led land reforms remain vital chapters in the state’s history. Yet DCUF’s archive insists that these achievements did not automatically dismantle caste. Caste endured because it continued to determine who owned land, who controlled labour, and whose material access the state protected. DCUF’s response was to unite the resourceless as a class — the “depressed class” — and confront caste at its foundation through land redistribution, labour mobilisation, and political reorganisation.
Central to this vision was Sabharaj’s udama sidhantham, or theory of ownership, which became the intellectual core of the Dravida Varga Aikya Munnani. Addressing the depressed classes directly, Sabharaj declared: “The universal owner class, organise. You ought not to receive wages, but sovereignty and rule.” The claim was radical: to reconstitute Dalits not merely as victims of caste oppression, but as the rightful owners of land and resources dispossessed through centuries of Brahmanical and colonial extraction.Within this framework, the identity of the Adi-Dravida was reinterpreted as a material claim rather than a symbolic one. The “native” was not a mythic ancestor but a community which was stripped of land and livelihood through successive regimes of domination. DCUF linked this reinterpretation to concrete demands: land to the tiller, title deeds for puthuval occupiers, community control over commons, and, most strikingly, ten acres of land for every depressed-class family.
They also pioneered practices in this direction. Under DCUF’s leadership, labour unions emerged across Idukki’s plantation belts, where Dalit workers faced extreme exploitation. The organisation formed the Bharata Samrakshana Dravida Sena, a militant wing intended to protect workers from workplace violence. Alongside unionisation, DCUF mobilised communities to reclaim their labour collectively, occupying uncultivated land, transforming wastelands into productive spaces, and asserting collective control over livelihood. DCUF also challenged the state’s arbitrary evictions and enclosures, arguing that government interventions routinely expropriated the labour Dalit communities had invested in making forest and wasteland cultivable. Its demands therefore extended to land ceilings, seizure of unlawfully held wealth, and protection against predatory transfers and forced displacement.
Why DCUF Matters Today
DCUF’s relevance extends far beyond its regional context. It offers a corrective to symbolic readings of caste by insisting that ownership, access to resources, and control over labour are constitutive of caste itself. Anti-caste politics, from this perspective, cannot be limited to identity claims, moral appeals, or quotas; it must confront land relations, labour regimes, and the state’s role in redistribution. Moreover, DCUF advanced a non-assimilationist alliance politics grounded in the agency of the depressed classes. It emphasised collectivisation, alternative livelihoods, and solidarities with other resourceless communities, particularly Adivasis. Through electoral participation, it sought not merely representation but a transformation of who controls the instruments of redistribution.Taken together, DCUF offers a crucial lesson for contemporary struggles: caste inequality cannot be dismantled without confronting material expropriation. Far from an antiquarian curiosity, DCUF remains a practical, though contested, guide for centring land, labour, and state power in the fight against caste injustice.
By Sephora Jose
Sephora Jose is a Postdoctoral Research Fellow in the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences at IIT Kanpur, where she also earned her doctoral degree. Her research critically examines caste and anti-caste resistance, with particular emphasis on their material foundations. Focusing on Kerala, her work traces caste relations from the colonial period to the present. She was awarded the Bluestone Rising Scholar Prize (2023) in recognition of her research contributions to Dalit Studies.
Courtesy : Countercurrents
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