Reservation is an empowering device in India. In a landmark judgment in April, 2008, the case of Ashoka Kumar Thakur versus Union of India validated the Ninety-Third Amendment Act with the Indian Supreme Court endorsing the demand for reservation for the demographically preponderant Other Backward Castes (OBC) in higher education. Reiterating its views on the Indira Sawhney versus Union of India (1992) the Court denied reservation to those who had already attained economic well-being or educational advancement as ‘it would be unreasonable, discriminatory or arbitrary, resulting in reverse discrimination’.

With the approval by the highest court of justice, the Ninety-Third Amendment to the Constitution (2005) is the culmination of a process that began with the acceptance of the Mandal recommendations by the VP Singh-led National Front Government in 1990, in light of massive opposition by caste groups, including OBCs.

The Mandal scheme was justified because it recommended reservation for a group that constituted more than half of India’s population that remained excluded from government jobs. The Ninety-Third Amendment Act is thus a continuation in the sense that it extends reservation for the same group, this time in the realm of higher education.

From the point of social justice, these schemes seem legitimate because the state potentially has the power to adopt discriminatory measures to favour one group of people against another in a multicultural society. In order to neutralise inequality, the state must provide resources to the underprivileged ‘on non market principles – free education, assured income, nutritious food and health’. Can reservation serve as an appropriate scheme to accord recognition to the disadvantaged due to historical reasons? Perhaps yes. A politically ‘liberal’ society however does not endorse social discrimination because citizenship, conceptually speaking, is universal. Hence ascribed identities are completely disregarded in defining citizenry. One may perhaps theoretically defend this position.

But, given the peculiar evolution of societies in various socio-economic and political contexts, this position may not appear tenable simply because identical rights for all are inadequate in protecting cultural-minorities. What is therefore required are ‘special’ rights for minorities who are identified as ‘disadvantaged’ groups. The argument that justifies discriminatory laws draws on the idea that since citizens are ‘differentiated’ and thus ‘unequal’, different communities should have different rights as citizens.

There is a historical dimension that has underpinned India’s caste-based discourse. Different communities undergo a variety of social churning processes through time. Hence some are deemed to be ‘privileged’, while others are seen as ‘marginalised’. A society that rejects ‘differentiated citizenship’ and appreciates universal citizenship seeks to insist that the latter give up their identity and submerge with the majority. Purportedly, this is how a society flourishes. From the multicultural point of view, this position smacks of ‘cultural imperialism’ because the prism through which a society is uniformly viewed insists on treating un-equals equally. Here, the norms and values of the privileged majority acquire salience given their well-entrenched nature and therefore any opposition to them provokes consternation among those who tend to belittle the importance of historical processes that have divided mankind.  

There are thus strong arguments in favour of reservation in a multicultural country like India. But the difficulty arises when groups or communities that deserve reservation are identified on the basis of ascribed identity, namely caste. Apart from the 1931 census of India, caste was never a criterion in classifying the Indian population. So if caste is a defining category, the 1931 index is hardly persuasive because as the census was guided by imperial priorities and may not have reflected India’s actual demographic profile. Furthermore, since the criterion of ‘backwardness’ is historically-conditioned, it is doubtful whether it remains valid even in the twenty first century.

Similarly, reservation in higher education appears to be an empty slogan in the light of the fact that seats for scheduled castes and scheduled tribes remain vacant owing to a lack of applicants. Even after more than half a century of reservation for these communities, the number of beneficiaries remains abysmally low.

As evident in the latest educational statistics, released by the Union Ministry of Human Resources Development, while 73% of Scheduled Caste (SC) students quit school before taking the class X final examination, the figures for the Scheduled Tribe (ST) students (79%) are worse. Interestingly, the drop-out rates are not so high among the children who are in class I-IV. Only 37% of the SC students discontinue, while 59% of the ST students fall under this category. If contrasted with prevalent high Gross Enrolment Ratio, which is 83% for the SCs and 86% for the STs, the drop-rates reveal the unfavourable socio-economic circumstances in which these same students are forced to take-up odd jobs just to survive. Since the majority of SC and ST population draw on agriculture for livelihood, these children are roped in to farm the land once they reach 10-12 years.

Given this reality, reservation in higher education makes no sense so long as drop-out rates in schools are alarmingly high. In order to translate the scheme into practice, the pursuance of a ‘literacy mission’, especially among the downtrodden by creating conditions, where the benefits of going to school outweigh the forced-alternative of working in the field. Otherwise, the benefits of reservation continue to be ‘uneven’ among those who can avail them and thus, the social justice agenda will always remain a distant goal.

Despite having stirred the sensibilities of both the socially advantaged and disadvantaged sections of society, the 1990 Mandal reservation scheme has brought about radical changes in Indian polity and society. The grammar of entitlement has now become an integral part of the language of politics in contemporary India.

There can be a debate on how to execute the decision, but all political parties are unanimous in accepting the logic and reality of the Ninety-Third Amendment Act (2005) confirming reservation in all institutions of higher learning. Nonetheless, the Mandal debate marks an important shift in the public justification for reservations.

After Mandal, caste as a basis of collective struggle for gaining equality in positions and social status became a respectable term among the marginalised. It is now being seen as an empowering device to enhance one’s meager entitlements in society. While the first phase of reservation under the Mandal Commission represented the politics of caste assertion or the politics of identity, the second phase is one defined by castes that assert their right to power.

The 2008 decision of the Supreme Court constitution bench in the case of Ashoka Kumar Thakur versus Union of India is undoubtedly a watershed judgment seeking to redefine the normative subjectivity of formal democracy. This involves the critical reformation of the institutions of public and private life and requires new frameworks for the accountability of government to the people. The recent judicial verdict is not merely a meaningful political statement, it has moved a step closer to the constitutional goals of a more equal and just society.