Do we really know our heroes? We place them on pedestals and revere them. We talk about them frequently and eloquently. We even quote from them. But that’s different to knowing them. It’s certainly not the same as understanding them. A book I’ve recently read has revealed aspects of BR Ambedkar I was unaware of. These are not contested facts. Many could even be well-known. But they’re not part of the popular image of the man.

For instance, did you know he wasn’t really a champion of Independence? From 1942 until 1946, he was a member of the Viceroy’s Executive Council, effectively as minister of labour. Earlier, in 1931, this is what he said, “The depressed classes (as the scheduled castes at the time were called) are not anxious, they are not clamorous, they have not started any movement for claiming that there shall be an immediate transfer of power from the British to the Indian people.”

Do we really know our heroes? We place them on pedestals and revere them. We talk about them frequently and eloquently. We even quote from them. But that’s different to knowing them. It’s certainly not the same as understanding them. A book I’ve recently read has revealed aspects of BR Ambedkar I was unaware of. These are not contested facts. Many could even be well-known. But they’re not part of the popular image of the man.

For instance, did you know he wasn’t really a champion of Independence? From 1942 until 1946, he was a member of the Viceroy’s Executive Council, effectively as minister of labour. Earlier, in 1931, this is what he said, “The depressed classes (as the scheduled castes at the time were called) are not anxious, they are not clamorous, they have not started any movement for claiming that there shall be an immediate transfer of power from the British to the Indian people.”

I’ve gleaned this from Ashok Lahiri’s India in Search of Glory. He writes, “Ambedkar’s role in the freedom struggle has been the most controversial aspect of his otherwise brilliant career.” I have to admit, that took me by surprise. However, it’s not the only incredible revelation Lahiri’s book contains. Ambedkar, it seems, almost never made it to the Constituent Assembly. In the 1945-46 elections his party, the All India Scheduled Caste Federation, won only two of the 151 reserved seats. As a result, Ambedkar “could not be elected to (the Constituent Assembly) from the Provincial Assembly of Bombay, as the SCF had won only one seat.”

Worse, no one was willing to help. In fact, Sardar Patel proclaimed “...apart from the doors even the windows of the Constituent Assembly are closed for Dr. Ambedkar”, adding “let us see how he enters the Constituent Assembly”.

It was a Muslim League legislator, Jogendra Nath Mandal, who came to Ambedkar’s aid. Mandal sacrificed his seat and with help from “one or two independent SC MLAs and one or perhaps two Anglo-Indian votes”, Ambedkar got elected from Bengal.

In July 1947 he was in trouble again. After the British Parliament passed the Act of Indian Independence, the Constituent Assembly was divided into two, one for India, one for Pakistan. Consequently, many members from Bengal lost their membership of the Constituent Assembly of India. Ambedkar was one.

Once again, fortuitous good fortune came to his rescue. MR Jayakar resigned his seat, following disagreements with the Congress, thus creating a vacancy. This time India’s leading politicians were willing to help.

One of them was Rajendra Prasad, the chairman of the Constituent Assembly. He wrote to BG Kher, then prime minister of Bombay. “Apart from any other consideration we have found Dr. Ambedkar’s work both in the Constituent Assembly and the various committees to which he was appointed to be of such an order as to require that we should not be deprived of his services. As you know, he was elected from Bengal and after the division of the province he has ceased to be a member of the Constituent Assembly commencing from the 14th July 1947 and it is therefore necessary that he should be elected immediately.”

Even Patel changed his attitude. Lahiri says he played a role in persuading Kher as well as dissuading GV Mavalankar, “who was otherwise slated to fill in the vacancy caused by Jayakar”.

So, it was a close-run thing. Imagine what would have happened if Ambedkar hadn’t made it? What sort of Constitution might we have ended up with? The mother of democracy, as we call ourselves today, would have lost the father of its Constitution.

Let me end by raising a question that may have occurred to you as well. So incredible are the facts I’ve related, was there a hand guiding Ambedkar and, perhaps, India itself? It seems someone or something was determined to ensure Ambedkar was part of the Constituent Assembly. The question is who or what?

Karan Thapar is the author of Devil’s Advocate: The Untold Story. The views expressed are personal