Caste Pride and Politics

Anand Teltumbde

 

Caste has been the key factor in Indian politics. If India is being irrevocably damaged today, single biggest causal factor is caste.

The BJP, notwithstanding its claims that it is above caste and communal politics, is the most astute user of the caste and communalism. Its electoral success is based on two major factors: 1. Hindutvization or Brahmanization of the OBCs, the most populous band of the Indian population. In the 2014 Lok Sabha elections, nearly 34% of OBCs voted for the BJP, rising to 44% in 2019. and 2. The successful co-optation of Dalits. Dalit support for the BJP rose from 24% in 2014 to 33% in 2019 (CSDS data)

The first is unsurprising because OBCs’ social esteem depends upon their being brahmanic in relation to Dalits who live in their vicinity. BJP’s embrace will be naturally welcome by them. The most surprising factor, however, is Dalits because their entire ideological plank of politics has been against Brahminism and still they have willingly gone over to BJP, the party of Brahminism. BJP, right from 2014 has been bagging more number of reserved seats for the Dalits in Lok Sabha and most assemblies than any other party. In 2019 elections, their reserved seats have been more than all the parties put together. 2024 election also may not be much different. In the recently held Maharashtra elections, they bagged 20 out of 29 reserved seats and in the constituencies with Dalit voter population exceeding 15%, higher than the state average, they won 59 out of 67 seats, almost 90%, with double the margin than that in the previous election. Maharashtra, which is considered as the fortress of the ambedkarite politics, this aftermath should be of concern to all.

In this backdrop, I wish to put forth my views.

Caste has been a defining feature of the Indian society for millennia. We don’t have to plunge into speculative waters of its origin to understand it for the simple reason that the castes have been continually evolving and what they are today is not what they were at the time of their origin. The contemporary castes are not the same as what they were when the incipient movements of Jotiba Phule and even Babasaheb Ambedkar confronted them. This is a crucial understanding that needs to be underlined. Castes in the churn of political economic changes through colonial times and early post-colonial decades have undergone a sea change, which blissfully escape consideration of our sociological and political discourse.

In the context of the developments during the colonial times, Marc Galanter, in his seminal analysis, identifies three ways in which caste has been understood and structured legally in India. 1. Sacral Model: Castes are seen as part of a unified Hindu religious order, hierarchically organized according to varnas (Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya, and Shudra). Courts and colonial governance often relied on scriptural doctrines and notions of purity and pollution to classify castes. Personal laws were applied differently to “twice-born” (Dvija) castes and Shudras, reinforcing hierarchy. 2. Sectarian Model: Castes are treated as independent religious communities with their own doctrines and practices. These communities were self-contained, with their rights and duties defined internally, independent of broader Hindu religious principles. 3. Associational Model: Castes are seen as self-governing groups, not necessarily tied to religion but functioning as organized social units. This model extends beyond Hinduism to recognize caste-like structures among other communities, such as Muslims, Christians, and Parsis.

The colonial state applied these models variably to suit its purposes. While sectarian and associational models recognized caste’s role in local governance and privileges, such as excommunication powers, for the most parts sacral model was used for personal law governance. The sacral model reinforced the colonial schema in which India was conceptualized as the land peopled by religious communities. This schema influenced the most social and political discourses including the dicourse of the anti-caste movement. We notice that when Dr Ambedkar problematized caste, he mainly held the Hindu scriptures (Hindu Dharmashastras) responsible for it and spoke of dynamiting them for annihilating castes. Right from the AoC to the conversion to Buddhism, sacral model weighed heavy on his mind.

As a matter of fact, now as well as then the existential castes may confirm more to setarian model. All castes lived as independent religious communities with their own doctrines and practices. They were largely self-contained, with their rights and duties defined internally, independent of broader Hindu religious principles. Howsoever they may have been formed; they hardly had any scriptural influence. The caste became a cultural part, all people having internalized it. One may see even the aspects of Associational Model in them as self-governing groups, not necessarily tied to religion but functioning as organized social units. Indeed, this was visible in places where other religious communities lived. My village for instance where all people Hindus, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Parsis speaking their own languages lived amicably without sensing any religious differences.

After the transfer of power, when the constitution was being written, the sacral framework was challenged by the passage of the Hindu Code Bill and the constitutional abolition of untouchability (Article 17). However, in adoption of the last colonial constitution, the Government of India Act, 1935, the dominant model remained sacral in the Constitution. We can see it in the definition of the Scheduled Castes (SCs) under Article 341, where only Hindus (later extended to Sikhs and Buddhists, seen as the sects of Hinduism) were recognized as SCs, reflecting a lingering sacral approach. Even the model of secularism in terms of treating all religions equally, subsumes the sacral model of communities. As such, castes and communalism remained salient in post-colonial India. They helped the political class in keeping people a bay, divided along numerous axes, as done by the colonial masters. This paradigm has greatly facilitated the right wing forces to resurge and bring the country to the brink of collapse. From this perspective, we may see that the seeds of the kind of destructive politics we see today were laid in the Constitution itself. The communal conception of the polity is behind the ugly form of communalism we see today.

I have an additional hypothesis about how the ruling classes intrigued to preserve castes with an alibi of doing social justice. I argue that the abolition of untouchability without abolition of castes was a ploy. Since there was a quasi class of Scheduled Caste created in 1936, the worst victims of the caste system was shorn of its relation to Hindu religious base, and hence the caste also could have been abolished. In either case, abolishing untouchability without caste was utterly meaningless, theoretically as well empirically. It does not appear to be a case of innocence or ignorance. It is not even the case of agenda setting power of the colonial masters as argued by Francisca Jenknious to mislead the Indin leaders to the path of seeking quotas. Because, in order to supplement their argument, they extended the reservations to the Scheduled Tribes and even extended similar assistance to the Backward Castes, such that castes may seem inevitable for deploying schemes of social justice. Actually, by that way they they achived two more cynical objectives: One, proliferation of reservation so as to casteize the society and to escape from the obligation to provide universalist schemes for empowerment of people such as free education, healthcare and livelihood securities. This is the empirical truth of caste as experienced over the last 70 years.Besides this legal-constitutional conception of caste, the social character of caste is that it is a

hierarchical system of social stratification. The castes are notionally grouped within one of the four varnas, ordered in a definitive hierarchy. But castes within a varna also inherit hierarchical notion among themsleves. The hierarchy is thus nested, an individual as a member of a caste stands in an indeterminate hierarchy vis-à-vis another of his caste group within a varna which in turn determines his hierarchical position in a meta system of Chaturvarna. The colonial rulers tried to codify and count castes through census, but no definitive number is possible for castes for two reasons. One, castes are still evolving either by casteization of non-caste people like tribals, and splitting and collapsing. Two, castes have sub castes and sub sub castes, which may remain dormant but may surface in a specific context. Effectively, caste is reduced to a notion of superiority-inferiority suffered by every individual in varying degree. In one of my lectures in MIT in the US, I had given an expempore definition of caste as the notion borne by every Indian that makes him incapable of treating his interlocutor equal. Either he/she thinks him/her superior or inferior.

I am presenting this conceptual sketch of caste in order to make you think how viable is the caste identity, caste pride and caste politics.

Everybody in India naturally bears caste identity. It assigns individuals their social, economic, and cultural roles and determines their life chances based on their birth within a caste. So it is not a matter of choice; it is just inherited. It is one of the identities among many that we come to wear.

Caste pride comes through the sacral model that draws legitimacy from Hindu scriptures which institutionalized inequality. It engenders caste pride in the so called upper castes (Brahmins, Kshatriyas, and Vaishyas) that they were endowed with privileges; it fostered a sense of superiority and pride in their caste identity. Caste pride emerges as an assertion of this superiority, often juxtaposed against the marginalization of lower castes (Shudras, Dalits, and Adivasis). The apparently paradoxical caste pride of the lower castes is in reaction, and comes through their claim to higher status. It is the same as, Mahars claiming that they were Suryavanshis, or the Buddhists, or the legatees of the brave Mahars martyred in battle of Bhima-Koregaon.

Despite constitutional guarantees of equality, caste pride persists and manifests in several ways. We can see it in social practices such as marriage where endogamy remains widespread, ensuring caste purity. Even among urban and educated elites, caste considerations dominate matrimonial decisions.

In is induced through spatial segregation. Dalits and lower castes are often excluded from temples, public spaces, and village wells in many parts of India. In the economic sphere,  landownership and economic dominance in rural areas often rest with dominant castes, perpetuating structural inequalities. Access to resources like education and employment, though constitutionally guaranteed, is often hindered by upper-caste biases. Politically, dominant castes mobilize politically, asserting their identity and interests. Movements like the Jat, Patidar and Maratha agitations, demanding reservations despite their relative privilege, exemplify caste pride cloaked as economic grievances.

The Role of Caste Pride in Oppression

Caste pride not only reinforces social hierarchies but actively suppresses dissent and challenges to the status quo. It manifests in violence and atrocities: Dalits and Adivasis are frequent targets of violence when they assert their rights. Incidents such as Dalits being attacked for riding horses or entering temples illustrate the violent enforcement of caste pride. Caste pride drives opposition to policies like reservations, with upper castes framing them as “reverse discrimination” despite centuries of privilege. Caste pride is embedded in cultural practices and collective memory through symbols and rituals and myth making.

Caste pride is not confined to dominant castes; marginalized groups also assert their identities as a form of resistance. Inspired by leaders like Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Dalit pride movements emphasize dignity, self-respect, and resistance against caste oppression. Movements by OBC communities, like those led by Kanshi Ram and the Bahujan Samaj Party, challenge upper-caste hegemony. While these movements aim to counter caste hierarchies, they can inadvertently entrench caste identities in the political and social landscape.

Caste pride is a potent tool in electoral politics and engendered Vote Bank Politics (Politicians often appealing to caste identities, consolidating votes based on caste-based loyalties rather than developmental issues) and Hindutvization of caste (The Sangh Parivar attempts to subsume caste identities under a broader Hindu identity, often sidelining caste inequities while subtly upholding upper-caste dominance).

Caste pride is antithetical to the principles of justice and equality enshrined in the Constitution. Addressing it requires:

Caste pride, rooted in historical privileges and hierarchies, continues to shape Indian society in profound ways. While marginalized groups’ assertion of identity seeks justice and dignity, dominant caste pride perpetuates inequalities. Bridging this divide requires dismantling caste as a social and cultural construct, fostering a shared commitment to equality, and empowering the oppressed to rise beyond the boundaries of caste.

Having seen caste pride and caste identity, we can now ask ourselves whether the politics based on caste identity can be viable for emancipatory goals.

Politics based on caste identity in India, particularly for the emancipation of lower castes like Dalits, is a complex phenomenon. On one hand, it provides a platform for the historically oppressed to assert their rights and challenge entrenched hierarchies; on the other, it risks perpetuating caste as a defining social and political factor rather than dismantling it.

On a positive side, caste identity politics, led by movements like Ambedkarite politics or the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP), highlights the structural inequalities faced by Dalits and marginalized communities. It brings these issues into mainstream political discourse, ensuring they are not overshadowed by the concerns of dominant castes.

Political movements based on caste identity create spaces for Dalit leadership and representation, which are critical for voicing their grievances. Leaders like B.R. Ambedkar, Kanshi Ram, and Mayawati have demonstrated how caste identity politics can enable Dalits to gain political power and assert dignity.

Caste-based politics has been instrumental in securing affirmative action policies like reservations in education, employment, and legislatures, which aim to level the playing field for Dalits.

Caste identity politics fosters solidarity among marginalized groups, uniting them against systemic discrimination. Dalit movements, for instance, have sought to reframe caste from a marker of shame to one of resistance and dignity.

While these may be the apparent strengths of the politics based on caste identity, there are serious limitations. Foremost, while this politics intends to challenge caste hierarchies, it risks entrenching caste identities in the social and political fabric, making caste a perpetual determinant of political action rather than transcending it.

Next, it fragments marginalized groups. The fragmentation of Dalit movement and its politics is a case in point. Caste-based politics often addresses symptoms (representation and policy measures) rather than structural causes (economic inequities, land ownership patterns) of caste oppression. Political parties claiming to represent Dalits or lower castes can sometimes be co-opted by dominant caste or class interests, diluting their emancipatory agenda. For example, Dalit leaders in mainstream parties may prioritize party loyalty over community interests.

Besides these limitations, the basis aspects of demography of Dalits and the essence of caste as discussed before may be enough to prove the unviability of the caste identity politics for the emancipation project.

What then are the alternative? The obvious answer is the class-based coalitions. Since caste oppression intersects with economic exploitation, building class-based coalitions that address broader socio-economic inequalities can strengthen Dalit emancipation. Movements like the Left’s emphasis on land reforms and workers’ rights have sometimes complemented caste-based struggles.

Recognizing that Dalits face multiple forms of discrimination (caste, gender, class), an intersectional approach can address these overlapping oppressions. For instance, Dalit women’s movements highlight issues often overlooked in broader Dalit or feminist politics.

While representation is vital, dismantling the material basis of caste (e.g., unequal land distribution, limited access to education and healthcare) is essential for true emancipation.

Caste identity politics should strive to build solidarity across marginalized groups, including Adivasis, Muslims, and economically disadvantaged communities from other castes, to create a broader coalition for social justice.

The caste identity politics is incapable of transforming the system.

Dalit Identity as a Tool, Not an End:

Caste identity should be leveraged as a means to secure justice and equality, but the ultimate goal must be to move beyond caste as a determinant of social and political life.

1. Empowerment Through Structural Reform:

Education, economic security, and access to resources must form the foundation of any emancipatory politics. Without these, caste identity politics risks being symbolic rather than transformative.

2. Transformative Leadership:

Leadership within caste-based movements must balance immediate community needs with a long-term vision of social equality. Leaders like Ambedkar exemplified this dual focus, championing rights for Dalits while envisioning a caste-free society.

Caste identity politics has proven to be a viable tool for the emancipation of Dalits, offering a platform to address historical injustices and secure political and social rights. However, its long-term success depends on its ability to transcend the confines of caste, addressing the systemic roots of oppression while fostering broader solidarity for transformative social change. Only then can the vision of an equitable and caste-free society be realized.

Caste pride among lower castes, while seemingly paradoxical, can be explained as a response to historical oppression, systemic exclusion, and the need for reclaiming dignity and identity in a deeply hierarchical society. This phenomenon, rooted in both psychological and sociopolitical factors, can be understood through several perspectives:

1. Reclaiming Identity and Dignity

• Historical Oppression: For centuries, lower castes have been stigmatized, excluded, and dehumanized. Caste pride serves as a counter-narrative to this systemic humiliation, allowing oppressed communities to reclaim their sense of self-worth.
• Cultural Assertion: Many lower castes are now celebrating their unique traditions, histories, and contributions to society, which were historically belittled or erased by dominant castes. Example: The valorization of Dalit icons like Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, Phule, and others fosters collective pride in their community’s resilience and intellectual achievements.

2. Resistance to Dominance

• Opposition to Hegemony: Lower caste pride can be a deliberate act of resistance against the cultural and social dominance of upper castes. By asserting their identity, they challenge the monopoly of cultural capital historically enjoyed by the privileged castes.
• Assertion of Political Power: In the political domain, caste pride among the lower castes often translates into demands for representation and rights.  Example: The rise of Dalit-Bahujan movements like the Bahujan Samaj Party in Uttar Pradesh demonstrates how caste pride is channeled into a collective political force.

3. Collective Solidarity

• Building a Community Identity: For marginalized castes, caste pride often emerges as a tool for fostering solidarity within the community. This shared pride strengthens their social and political movements.
• Social Security: As individuals within lower castes face systemic exclusion, identifying with their caste group provides a sense of belonging and emotional security in a hostile environment.

4. Psychological Empowerment

• Reversal of Shame: Historically, caste identities imposed inferiority on the lower castes. By taking pride in their caste, marginalized groups invert this narrative, transforming shame into a source of empowerment.  Example: Dalit literature, festivals, and cultural events emphasize the resilience and contributions of Dalits, subverting narratives of victimhood.

5. Influence of Identity Politics

• Rise of Political Consciousness: The post-Ambedkar era witnessed the emergence of Dalit identity politics, which emphasized the need for lower castes to assert themselves socially and politically. This led to the articulation of caste pride as a unifying ideology.  Example: The term “Bahujan,” popularized by Kanshi Ram, reframed the lower castes not as a minority but as the majority (Bahujan) deserving of power and representation.

 

6. Competition Within Marginalized Groups

• Sub-Caste Dynamics: Caste pride is not restricted to high castes but is also seen within sub-castes of the lower strata, leading to competition for recognition, resources, and reservations. Example: In Tamil Nadu, the Paraiyars and Pallars (Dalit sub-castes) often assert their distinct caste pride to gain social and political recognition.

 

7. Affirmation Through Affirmative Action

• Effect of Reservations: Policies like caste-based reservations in education and employment have enabled many from lower castes to achieve upward mobility. This material success reinforces caste pride, as it becomes a symbol of overcoming structural barriers.

 

8. Challenges of Caste Pride Among Lower Castes

• Risk of Internal Divisions: While caste pride can be empowering, it can also lead to divisions within the broader marginalized community, diluting their collective political strength.
• Reinforcement of Caste Hierarchy: Instead of dismantling caste, pride in one’s caste may inadvertently validate the hierarchical structure, perpetuating the caste system.

Caste pride among lower castes is an assertion of identity, dignity, and resistance in the face of historical oppression. It serves as a tool for reclaiming agency and fostering solidarity. However, it must ultimately be part of a larger project that seeks to dismantle caste hierarchies entirely, ensuring that pride in one’s identity does not reinforce the very structures of exclusion it seeks to challenge.

The observation regarding the BJP’s electoral success being driven by the Hindutvization of OBCs and the co-optation of Dalits holds significant merit, as it aligns with recent political developments in India. Let us critically examine this assertion and evaluate its validity through analysis and evidence.

1. Hindutvization/Brahmanization of OBCs

Communal Polarization as a Strategy

• Mechanism: The BJP has worked to consolidate OBC votes by positioning itself as a party representing their aspirations, often blending economic and social narratives with Hindutva politics. Communal polarization has been a crucial strategy in rallying OBCs under the Hindutva banner, often portraying Muslims and Christians as “threats” to Hindu unity.
• Impact on OBCs: OBCs, traditionally fragmented across regional and caste lines, have been brought into a pan-Hindu identity, eroding the earlier political alignment of OBCs with regional parties like the Samajwadi Party, RJD, or JD(U).

Evidence and Trends

• Electoral Data: According to surveys by organizations like the CSDS (Centre for the Study of Developing Societies), the BJP has steadily increased its share of OBC votes. In the 2014 Lok Sabha elections, nearly 34% of OBCs voted for the BJP, rising to 44% in 2019.
• Modi’s OBC Identity: The BJP has effectively utilized Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s OBC identity to appeal to this demographic. Modi’s projection as a “chaiwala” and a self-made leader resonated with aspirational OBCs.
• Decline of Mandal Politics: The BJP’s Hindutva narrative overshadowed the Mandal-era emphasis on caste-based social justice, reorienting OBC support away from parties like the SP and RJD.

2. Co-optation of Dalits

Frustration with Previous Political Experiences

• Disillusionment with Traditional Leadership: Dalit voters have grown frustrated with the perceived ineffectiveness of Dalit-centric parties like the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) in delivering tangible results. Mayawati’s declining political visibility and lack of grassroots engagement have driven some Dalit voters toward the BJP.
• Economic Aspirations: The BJP’s emphasis on economic empowerment (through schemes like the PM Awas Yojana, Ujjwala Yojana, and Mudra loans) appeals to aspirational Dalits seeking upward mobility.

Cultural Co-optation and Symbolism

• Ambedkarite Appropriation: The BJP has strategically appropriated the legacy of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, emphasizing his contributions while downplaying his critique of Hinduism and Brahmanism. For instance, the BJP has erected statues of Ambedkar and initiated programs in his name.
• Dalit Sub-caste Targeting: The BJP has specifically focused on non-Jatav Dalits in Uttar Pradesh and non-Mahar Dalits in Maharashtra, creating divisions within Dalit communities and weakening unified opposition.

Evidence and Trends

• Electoral Data: Dalit support for the BJP rose from 24% in 2014 to 33% in 2019 (CSDS data). The BJP’s success in states like Uttar Pradesh in 2017 and 2022 is attributed in part to its ability to attract non-Jatav Dalits, traditionally BSP supporters.
• Weakening of BSP: The BSP’s vote share declined from 19.6% in the 2012 Uttar Pradesh elections to 12.9% in 2022, signaling a shift in Dalit allegiance.

Critical Evaluation

Factors Supporting the Argument

• Fragmentation of Traditional Alliances: Hindutva politics has successfully dissolved traditional caste alignments by fostering a sense of Hindu unity, particularly among OBCs and Dalits.
• Economic Populism: The BJP’s welfare schemes have enhanced its appeal among marginalized groups.
• Weak Opposition: The inability of regional and caste-based parties to effectively counter the BJP’s Hindutva narrative has allowed it to consolidate these votes.

Challenges to the Argument

• Not Homogeneous Support: While the BJP has gained substantial traction among OBCs and Dalits, many still remain loyal to regional parties or see the BJP as an upper-caste-dominated party. For example, Jatavs (Dalits) in Uttar Pradesh largely continue to support the BSP.
• Potential for Reversal: The communal polarization strategy may alienate some lower castes, particularly as economic inequality and caste-based discrimination persist.

Figures and Reinforcement

1. OBC Vote Share: BJP’s OBC vote share increased from 34% in 2014 to 44% in 2019 (CSDS).
2. Dalit Vote Share: Among Dalits, BJP’s vote share rose from 24% in 2014 to 33% in 2019 (CSDS).
3. BSP Decline: BSP’s vote share in Uttar Pradesh fell from 22.2% in 2007 (when it formed the government) to 12.9% in 2022.

Conclusion

The BJP’s electoral success is indeed attributable to the Hindutvization of OBCs and the co-optation of Dalits. However, this strategy has its limitations and risks alienating these groups if their aspirations remain unfulfilled. For lower castes, sustained political emancipation will depend on their ability to navigate these dynamics and demand accountability, both within and outside the framework of Hindutva politics.

In the recent Maharashtra elections, caste-based dynamics played a critical role in shaping voter preferences:

1. OBCs: The BJP has focused heavily on consolidating the OBC vote through measures like emphasizing the “Madhav formula,” which amalgamates various OBC groups (e.g., Malis, Dhangars, Vanjaris) under its banner. This effort is aimed at countering the influence of the Maratha community and retaining OBC loyalty, as OBCs have been a critical support base for the BJP. However, the inclusion of Marathas in the OBC category has sparked resistance among traditional OBC communities, creating tensions that may impact voter turnout and preferences.

 

2. Marathas: The demand for Maratha reservation continues to be a sensitive issue. Historically aligned with the Congress and NCP, the community has shown signs of shifting allegiances due to perceived neglect by successive governments. The BJP’s cautious approach to Maratha reservation has alienated some within the community, while the Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA) has actively promised legislative actions to secure Maratha reservations, potentially swaying votes in its favor

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3. Dalits: Dalit voters in Maharashtra remain divided, with some segments supporting Ambedkarite political formations or the Congress-led MVA due to their focus on social justice and minority welfare. Others have been co-opted by the BJP through targeted welfare schemes and outreach programs. However, issues such as caste-based atrocities and economic vulnerabilities continue to influence Dalit voting patterns

In the recent Maharashtra Assembly elections of 2024, the BJP achieved significant success in constituencies with a considerable Dalit population. Out of 29 reserved seats for Scheduled Castes (SCs), the BJP won 20. Additionally, it doubled its winning margin in 59 out of 67 constituencies where Dalit voters comprise more than 15% of the electorate end reflects two broader dynamics:

1. Co-optation of Dalit Voters: The BJP has strategically aligned with Dalit communities through outreach programs and political alliances, such as with the Republican Party of India (A) led by Ramdas Athawale. The BJP’s focus on welfare measures, such as housing and electrification, resonates with economically marginalized Dalits.
2. Fragmentation of Dalit Support: Traditional Dalit vote banks, often loyal to regional parties like the Bahujan Vanchit Aghadi (VBA) or Congress-NCP, have become fragmented. Disillusionment with previous governments’ ability to address caste-based inequities might have pushed some Dalits toward the BJP.

These developments highlight the BJP’s ability to transcend its historically upper-caste support base to engage Dalit voters effectively. However, the larger question remains whether such electoral gains translate into substantive benefits for Dalit communities, given ongoing disparities in social and economic spheres.

These dynamics underscore a fragmented electorate, where caste rivalries and political mobilization around reservation demands have created a highly polarized political landscape. For example, the BJP’s focus on OBCs has sometimes clashed with Maratha demands, while Dalits’ political allegiances remain varied, influenced by socio-economic factors and targeted policy interventions. This intricate interplay of caste and political strategies highlights the ongoing importance of caste in shaping electoral outcomes in Maharashtra.

In Galanter’s analytic framework, caste has been legally understood and organised through three principal models or frames. As he has termed them, these are the sacral, sectarian and associational frames of conceptually structuring and deploying caste. To elaborate, sacral accounts posit caste groups as constituent parts of a unified Hindu religious order. In this frame, Hindu society is seen as a differentiated but integrated order of caste groups all of whom are held together by the unifying force of axiomatically applied scriptural doctrines. The sectarian frame posits caste as an independent religious community demarcated by its own doctrines, rituals or culture. This model conceives of caste as a religious unit but one that is self-contained and disassociated from a larger religious order. The rights and duties of the group and its members follow from its own rules and practices and not from its place in a larger axiomatically and scripturally organised Hindu sacral order. Lastly, in the associational frame, caste is understood as a self-governing group, which is marked neither by a fixed place in a larger religious order nor by distinctive religious beliefs or practices. The bonds of association in this last frame might include religion, but this is to be understood merely as one among many other aspects of group life.

Each of these models as they detail an understanding of caste has played important functional roles in the British colonial state. Thus, in the organisation of religious personal laws, castes were viewed through the lens of the sacral frame. In this frame castes were seen to be part of an integrated order of Hindu communities divided along the lines of twice-born, or dvija, communities to whom one set of personal laws applied, and lower-born sudra communities to whom a different set of personal laws applied. This distinction of caste groups into dvijas and sudras turns on the assumption that various jatis, sampradayas, jamats, and so on, that define social life in India can be pulled together by authoritative doctrines of the classical texts of Hindu law.  These texts and their doctrines are said to axiomatically organise Hindu society through the classical category of varna, which pulled together the multitude of castes groups into four hierarchically organised groups or varnas – brahmins, kshatriyas, vaisyas and sudras. The brahmin, kshatriya and vaisya varnas comprised the dvijas, while the sudras were ritually inferior to the other three groups. Slotting the multitude of Indian castes into appropriate varnas is no easy task and has required courts to device ways in which they could distinguish between the brahmin, kshatriya or vaisya varnas from the sudra varna. In some cases, the test to identify a group was the customary practices said to be typical of the sudras. In others, the identification of varna took place by evaluation of the caste group’s own consciousness of its status and the acceptance of this estimate by other castes in the locality. Often, these estimations of status were tied to notions of purity and pollution practices between caste groups.

However, in all these cases castes are seen as religious entities that ‘occupy their respective places in the sacral order of ranks which embraces all groups within a doctrinally and axiomatically understood Hinduism’.

On the other hand, as self-governing entities with powers of internal selfgovernment recognised by the colonial government, castes were organised as sectarian and associational entities (models of caste that this chapter will treat as variants of each other). These self-governing powers of caste were primarily enforced by colonial courts to protect caste privileges and to defend group control through practices like excommunication. Even so, it is important to note that sectarian and the associational models of caste were equally plausible ways of understanding and representing caste in colonial  government as was the sacral model. In the sectarian and associational models, caste was the basis of social organisation and could include all manner of groups with established patterns of social organisation. And, as Galanter has shown, this could also include non-Hindu groups, with courts having recognised castes among Muslims, Parsis, Jains, Sikhs and Christians. As caste gradually began to get drawn into representative politics of colonial India, both sacral and the sectarian and associational models of caste were equally available to identify caste groups as candidates for representation in government. To some extent this was apparent in the clash of the opposing positions in the Poona Pact that was seemingly resolved in favour of the sacral model. However, as independence approached, Galanter argues, the problem resurfaced but that the sacral approach to caste was overshadowed by the influence of the other two approaches. Galanter attributes this to two reasons. First, the passage of the Hindu Code Bill, which established a uniform Hindu law for all Hindus and rendered varna insignificant as a legal category. Second, the constitutional abolition of untouchability in Article 17 was also intended to make varna to irrelevant in the legal and administrative practice of independent India. However, the eclipse of varna in ordering personal law or even the abolition of untouchability has not pushed aside the sacralised framework of caste. On the contrary, as the discussions in the Constituent Assembly illustrate, a sacralised Hindu identification of castes continued to play a determining role in conceiving the challenge that caste posed for the new Constitution. Most significantly, this model of caste was carried into the working of Article 341 of the Constitution, which authorised the president or parliament to identify the castes that would secure constitutional recognition. The exercise of presidential power under Article 341 has taken the shape of the Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order, 1950, which specifies that ‘no person professing a religion different from Hinduism shall be deemed to be a member of the Scheduled Castes’.29 This demarcation of caste is key to identifying caste groups eligible to avail themselves of the benefits of the Constitution’s programme for the social transformation of caste disability. Prima facie this account of caste and caste injustice betrays a sacral account of caste. However, the sacral imprint of modelling caste in this fashion is usefully  elaborated through judicial decisions that are outlined in the following section.