In brief
India is preparing for a major change with its upcoming caste census set to count every caste for the first time in nearly 100 years. Supporters argue that better data could lead to more targeted affirmative action policies, while critics warn that the census might entrench existing disparities and stigmas. Notable voices like Anand Teltumbde argue against the census, claiming it risks solidifying caste divisions rather than alleviating them. As the country stands on the brink of this pivotal moment, discussions continue on whether counting castes will bring about a more equitable society or perpetuate the status quo.
Counting castes in India has always been about more than numbers - it is about who gets a share of government benefits and who doesn't.
The country's next national census, scheduled for 2027, will - for the first time in nearly a century - count every caste, a social hierarchy that has long outlived kingdoms, empires and ideologies. The move ends decades of political hesitation and follows pressure from opposition parties and at least three states that have already gone ahead with their own surveys.
A 2011 survey - neither run nor verified by census authorities or released by the government - recorded an astonishing 4.6 million caste names.
A full count of castes promises a sharper picture of who truly benefits from affirmative action and who is left behind. Advocates say it could make welfare spending more targeted and help recalibrate quotas in jobs and education with hard evidence.
Yet in a provocative new book, The Caste Con Census, scholar-activist Anand Teltumbde warns that the exercise may harden the deeply discriminatory caste system, when the need is to dismantle it.
The argument cuts against the prevailing view that better data will produce fairer policy. For Mr Teltumbde, castes are too pernicious to be managed for any progressive purpose.
Mr Teltumbde sees the modern caste census as a colonial echo.
British administrators began counting castes in 1871 as a deliberate response to the post-1857 unity of Indians across caste and religion, turning it into an effective tool of imperial control. They held six caste censuses between 1871 and 1931 - the last full caste enumeration in India.
Each count, Mr Teltumbde argues, did not merely record caste, but reified and hardened it.
Independent India, in Mr Teltumbde's reading, preserved the system under the moral banner of social justice, while effectively evading its core obligation of building the capacities of all people, which is a prerequisite for the success of any genuine social justice policy.
The obsession with counting, he says, bureaucratises inequality. By turning caste into a ledger of entitlements and grievances, the census reduces politics to arithmetic - who gets how much - rather than addressing what Mr Teltumbde calls the architecture of social injustice.
He sees the demand for a caste census as a push for more reservations - a cause driven by an upwardly mobile minority, while the majority slips into deprivation and dependence on state aid. Nearly 800 million Indians, he notes, now rely on free rations.
A caste census would be useful if the income levels within each caste group are collected, Dr Pai argues, emphasizing the importance of identifying needs without solely relying on caste.
Yet, scholars warn that counting castes and interpreting the data will be fraught with challenges. The upcoming census may bring more questions than answers, risking further division rather than resolution of the caste issue.
