INDIA’S
reservation policy presupposes a social fact – that of centuries of oppression
of one group by another. It assumes, in other words, a determinate but
constant unchanging ‘oppressor’ and ‘oppressed’. The ‘constant’ is created
by the Brahmanical social order, and is perpetuated through a hereditarily
determined identity. While some form of conflict, yielding categories
of ‘exploiter’ and the ‘exploited’, the ‘dominant’ and
the ‘subservient’ exist in all societies, in India these terms are defined
in relation to the caste order. The caste system is accorded a special
position, and its unique structure, located in scripture and tradition,
is seen as justifying and reproducing such constant identities that are
responsible for fostering continuous social tension and dominance.
While the fact of caste based discrimination cannot be
denied in India, the problem emerges when we try to extend the ‘constant’
to a more general plane, thereby overlooking the different forms of social
relations and conflicts that are found in various parts of the country.
The problem with the country’s reservation policy is that it over-generalizes
a theoretical framework to achieve quick practical results. When, for
instance, the social reality of Northeast India is understood in the light
of some general conceptions of the social practices of the Hindu Brahmanic
society, what emerges is a deeply flawed conception of the region. This
conception, over time, has become a source of generalization on the one
hand, and ethnic conflict on the other.
The paper neither has any quarrel with the theories on
caste nor with representations that speak of the uniqueness of caste-based
discrimination. But it has serious difficulties with two major propositions
drawn from caste related studies. The first problem relates to the assumptions
that social justice can be ensured by economic enhancement of the lower
castes through unconditional positive discrimination. The second
arises from the attempt to extend caste, as a social fact, to every society
where Hindu religious faiths are in practice.
Emancipating the socially underprivileged and the marginalized
as a move towards social justice is an important value and concern. And
it is also a well-argued position that social emancipation is to be brought
about, in addition to social recognition, by economic empowerment. But
economic empowerment has its own logic. One of the biggest question is:
how much of economic empowerment of a group will filter to the lowest
rank of the underprivileged within the group. This is a big question that
cannot be easily answered. The ultimate goal of social justice is to ensure
that the least privileged and the least deprived within a marginalized
group possess equal chance and capability to compete with the rest of
the already privileged.
T hough
self-identity of an individual is singularly and internally conceived,
the ‘collective’ associated with the individual cannot be denied. Each
one of us is born in a particular community, shaped by the values that
the community nurtures and governed by the dictates of ‘ought’ that the
community marks down. While we claim to be free, we are often tied down
by the values of the community. Most of the identifications and directives
are governed at an ideational plane and cannot be defined or measured
quantitatively. Caste identification is one such case.
But social identification that operates largely in the
ideational plane is also closely linked with economic condition, where
at times, the latter either influences or determines the former. Economic
identification is different from those identifications which are ideational.
The relationship between the two is complex, and unless clearly delineated
could create confusion. The country’s reservation policy, we believe,
emerges out of a deep flaw in understanding the complex relationship between
the conceptions of the ‘cultural/social’ and the ‘economic’. The big
question on ‘filtering down to the least privileged’ as raised earlier
pertains to this.
While the economic status is measurable, social status
cannot be measured and remains at an ideational plane. The two, of course,
are not exclusive. Economic empowerment is closely related to social emancipation,
yet the relationship between the two is not proportionate. The social
connotation that a particular caste carries is equally applicable, without
exception, to all members of the caste. The same cannot be said of economic
possessions or economic status of the members of the caste.
The status in term of possession of wealth will vary
from one individual member to another. If empowerment of the caste is
to be made primarily through reservation of jobs, which amounts to increasing
the buying capacity of an individual member, it is an individual affair.
Consequently, if social upliftment of the underprivileged caste is to
be enforced through reservation in jobs, there have to be certain measurable
economic criteria fulfilling which it can be said that one has reached
a certain economic status from where one can meaningfully compete with
the upper castes.
E conomic
empowerment as a blanket concept means little as it does not provide a
homogenous identification as can be made of social and cultural terms.
Upward mobility of a group, collectively, in totality, makes little sense
when economic empowerment is considered as the prime mover. As a process,
it is the individuals who will move upwards as particular instances, and
not the group as a whole at one go.
Though social upliftment is a just ethical goal, the
procedure of upliftment raises a range of difficulties, especially when
economic enhancement is related unconditionally with social emancipation.
The second problem adds a few more difficulties in addressing the issue
of empowerment and social upliftment. It, unlike the first, deals not
with the issue of implementation but with the conception of the social
fact: of caste and caste-based discrimination.
The second problem posed by the reservation policy arises
from the belief that caste is a basic social fact that exists throughout
India. A nation-wide policy that assumes not just caste distinctions but
a structure of caste based discrimination poses serious difficulties.
This becomes evident when we turn to Northeast India. Take the case of
Manipur where the category of ‘Scheduled Caste’ has been listed from among
the Meitei community.
The stereotyping of the Meitei (Hindu) society in the
image of mainland Hindu ethos and practices has manufactured two non-existent
castes of the ‘constant exploiter’ and the ‘constant exploited’. While
Hinduised Meiteis have been identified with the former, all other non-Hindu
communities are shown as ‘exploited’. Such is the handiwork of those who
harp on the ‘politics of divide’ and benefit from it; and endorsed by
the ‘ignorant other’ who is happy to own up anything that comes closer
to the imagined pan-Indian vision. What has been presupposed quite wrongly
is that the ‘constant’ assumed in caste based Hindu community exist uniformly
in all the regions where Hindu faiths are practised.
T he
Northeast seems to have an altogether different social experience and
dynamics. The presupposition that caste discrimination exists in all parts
of India for centuries has had its share of discomfiture with social analysts
and academics in the Northeast. A closer scrutiny of the socio-economic
history reveals a dynamics quite different from the type of caste based
discrimination that has existed in mainland India. The notion of ‘caste’
and ‘tribe’ in the Northeast needs an objective inquiry to correct the
pervasive concept of discrimination in the Indian context.
The flaw in manufacturing ‘Scheduled Caste’ in the Northeast
comes not out of an inclusive imagination, but from the misrepresentation
of social facts. Caste division, particularly in Assam and Manipur, though
they follow the Brahmin and the non-Brahmin demarcation, are very different
from the rest of the country both in their structure as well as their
operation. For instance, the Meiteis of Manipur comprise of (i)
the Meitei Bamons (Manipuri Brahmins), (ii) the Manipuri Meiteis
(‘Kshtriyas’ as well as the followers of pre-Hindu Sanamahi faith), and
(iii) the Meitei Pangals (Manipuri Muslims). The Meitei Brahmins,
mostly descendents from Nabadwip, Vrindavan, Ujjain and Kanauj since the
15th century were upper caste Brahmins, and were employed by the Meitei
king to look after Hindu temples and act as royal scribes and astrologers.
Since they were allowed to marry Meitei women, they slowly merged into
the Meitei society (Parrat 1980). Even when the Ramandi Hindu sect was
declared the state religion, and Hindu caste structure was superimposed
assigning Kshatriya status to all the Meiteis, Hindu caste ethos failed
to fully bloom. The conferred Hindus gotra has failed to dissociate
the Meiteis from their identification with clan lineages, and the two
are simultaneously retained.
T he
notion of ‘purity and pollution’ was brought into play as an operational
device to maintain Brahmanic caste hierarchy. However, this could not
succeed in totality since it was not a merger of a pre-Hindu social order
into a strong Hindu system as has been witnessed in many hill districts
of Himachal Pradesh and Uttaranchal, where local pre-Hindu deities find
place in the larger Hindu narration. The trend was just the opposite in
the case of the Northeast, where the Hindu world order merged into a larger
non-Hindu social (within geographical boundary) and belief system. So
it is wholly inappropriate to see and posit a structure of caste based
exploitation in the Northeast that is borrowed from the mainland Hindu
ethos.
W e
choose to introduce the notion of ‘caste like structure’ for societies
that have, to some extent, incorporated/superimposed elements of the Hindu
caste structure into the pre-Hindu social set up between the 17th and
18th century in the region. There is conglomeration as well as juxtaposition
of social and cultural practices of both the religious traditions within
one social milieu. This is witnessed equally in Assam and Manipur. While
on the one hand, caste enters into the social system of the Assamese and
Meitei societies, pre-Hindu culture ethos and religious practices still
do not lose complete space for operation within the social practices.
The practice of Bihu among the Assamese and Lai Haraoba among the Meiteis
are some instances of this.
Not only caste, but also the category of ‘Scheduled Tribe’
is equally problematic in the form that has been applied in Manipur. The
Lois of Manipur, for instance, find it difficult to justify themselves
being called either a tribe or a caste. They were originally clans and
tribes subdued by the Meitei kings for civil, religious and criminal offences,
or captured in war or rebellion against the monarch (Ratan Kumar 2001).
They, unlike the Meitei Hindu converts, continue to follow the pre-Hindu
religious faith including the food habit. Since they do not fall under
the Hindu religious fold and their village structure is closely similar
to the tribes like Nagas and the Kukis, it is difficult to club them with
either of the groups. The reason behind highlighting these instances is
to show: one, the difficulty in homogenising the categories, ‘Scheduled
Tribe’ and ‘Scheduled Caste’ and presenting them as being mutually exclusive;
and two, generalising a social fact (concept) based on a given social
reality and applying it to all other related social realities.
Relating to the problem of ‘over-generalization’, the
fallouts of the reservation policy have been extremely detrimental to
inter-community relationship. Reservation on caste and ethnic lines is
leading towards the creation and consolidation of ethnic divides. Some
social forces harp on conflict, for instance, by projecting the Meiteis
(Hindus particularly) as ‘constant oppressor’. The formulation finds audience
even among sincere pro-dalit and pro-tribal activists and scholars in
the rest of the country, who mistakenly visualise an identical structure
of caste dominance and oppression in Hindu societies like Assamese and
Manipuri. This is due to a preconceived theoretical framework that Hindu
society is always exploitative and oppressive. The process of legitimising
the propaganda itself fetches moral support from the rest of the world
but creates a platform for political and economic packages.
T he
construction of administrative divisions between the ‘privileged’ and
the ‘underprivileged’, through the metaphor of the foundational ‘constant
oppressor’ and ‘constant oppressed’, has led to covert tension between
the Meiteis and other communities in the state. The new rivalries built
need to be viewed against the background that no community in the Northeast
was a constant oppressor or victor in the inter-ethnic rivalry.
If head-hunting was the sign of ‘bravery’ and ‘conquest of the nearest
other’, each tribe/ethnic community succeeded in hunting down the other
at one time or the other. Players were all variables.
A
recent illustration of this conflict can be seen among the lois of
Manipur on the question of whom among them should be clubbed as ‘Scheduled
Caste’, The residents of Kakching, who were traditional lois under the
Manipuri king, got themselves identified as ‘Scheduled Caste’, This led
to a long drawn legal battle with other lois (of Sekmai, Khurkhul, Andro,
Leimram, etc.) who did not want those from Kakching to join the category
out of fear that the new entrants would snatch away their destined jobs.
What is witnessed in the entire episode is that instead of economic empowerment
of the deserving individuals among the underprivileged, it has become
a site of contention for accumulating the maximum benefit among individuals
on community/ethnic line.
The mockery of the reservation policy came to light when
Meiteis decided to join the club of the ‘new underprivileged’, the OBC.
All the Meiteis, including the Manipuri Brahmins and the feudal lords,
have now been included in the new category. In 1991 when the Mandal Commission
Report was on its way to implementation, a statewide debate took place
in the entire valley of Manipur to discuss the entry of Meiteis as a backward
class. One of the arguments was that Meiteis should join OBC under the
‘economic backwardness clause’. The sole reason for which majority of
the younger generation (mostly middle class) wanted social downgrading
was to avail of job security under the reservation policy. Such cases
of social downgrading to avail reservation benefits are not a lone case
in Manipur; they have become a trend in the entire country. This should
be seen as a serious fallout of the reservation policy.
Despite various changes modernity has brought, social
systems in the Northeast have still remained largely egalitarian and tribal
in outlook. The degree of disparity is not as high as is found in other
parts of the country. Political grievances are more pragmatic and are
matters determined by degrees of aspiration, which of course, is not totally
unjustified. The aversion created by the reservation policy enforcing
division along the lines of caste or tribe is not a healthy development.
Reservation of jobs, if at all is a means for social and individual emancipation,
must give way to new innovations. New ways must be found to reach the
goal of emancipation without creating disenchantment with others.
O ne
way would be to localise reservation policy, making it area-specific.
Community based reservation should be avoided; instead criteria should
be individual centred. Area based reservation is not identical with community
based reservation even though it may turn out in many cases that a particular
area is inhabited dominantly or exclusively by one community. Within the
specific ‘reserved’ area, individual based criteria can still operate.
More than these, the upliftment of communities and individuals
must go beyond the prism of reservation of government jobs. Priority should
be given to areas that are crucial, such as development of infrastructure
and compulsory free education for the underprivileged. By attending to
these basic necessities, marginalized groups will be empowered to compete
fairly with those who are already privileged. Mere reservation of jobs
will not help. After more than fifty years, it is high time to examine
the success and failure of the reservation policy: in terms of empowerment
of the marginalized, equal and wider distribution of the reservation benefits
to every section of the underprivileged, and finally, efficiency and productivity
in the government sectors where reservation policy is implemented.
T he
widening gap between the public and private sectors is clearly visible
as of today. The fact that the private sector is performing far better
than the public should be a good enough reason to re-scrutinize the reservation
of jobs. It needs to be seen if the failure results from flaws in the
conception of the policy or in its implementation. So instead of proposing
reservation in the private sector, government should think of alternative
frameworks for social and economic upliftment. Areas where government
should focus its attention are already enshrined in the Directive Principles
of the Constitution. All that is needed is to take the Directive Principles
a little more seriously.
References
André Béteille, 1987. The Idea of Natural Inequality
and Other Essays, Oxford University Press, New Delhi.
I.P.Desai, ‘Should "Caste" be the Basis for
Recognising Backwardness?’ EPW, 14 July 1984.
Kruti Dholakia, Reservation Policy for the Backward
Classes in India,
Dipankar Gupta, 2000. Mistaken Modernity, HarperCollins,
Delhi.
Samit Kar, ‘Reservations for EBCs: Poor Quota Card,’
EPW, 1 November 2003.
S.N. Parrat, 1980. Religion of Manipur, Calcutta.
Kh. Ratan Kumar, 2001. Lai Haraoba of Manipur,
Imphal.
D.L. Sheth, ‘The Future of Caste in India: A Dialogue’,
(review article), Contributions to Indian Sociology 25(2), 1991.
R.K. Jhalajit Singh, 1987. A Short
History of Manipur, 2nd ed., Imphal. |