I'm concerned that NID alumni, like those of most elite institutions, are subtly
and not-so-subtly joining the chorus against reservations. Since I do not
possess the fluency of rhetoric to state the case for reservations and
redressing sysmetic social injustice, I will quote Ram Guha here. In my humble
opinion, it is the government's duty to redress the historical privilege
(continuing to this day) accorded to the higher caste and the wealthy by
transferring privilege (here, in the form of scarce seats in government-funded
elite academic institutions) to other sections of society. As for 'merit', I
certainly feel that it is merely a social and cultural construct that possesses
a bias that we all know exists, but refuse to acknowledge merely in order to
preserve the illusion of its absoluteness and objectivity - a case of the
emperor not having any clothes on.
Arvind Lodaya
PD, 1988

http://www.indiatogether.org/2006/may/rgh-reserve.htm

Classy cast of mind
In the recent impressive gains made by the Indian economy, the OBCs have not
benefited proportionately. The recent extension of reservations to elite
institutions that are seen as passports to the new economy is therefore logical.
But it must still not be excessive, writes Ramachandra Guha.

The announcement that reservation for other backward classes is to be extended
to IITs and IIMs has provoked much debate in the press. Critics say the move
will undermine the functioning of these institutions by devaluing the principle
of merit. Cynics add that the announcement was a consequence of the human
resource development minister's wish to outstage and embarrass the prime
minister. On the other side, there are those who see the extension of
reservation as both necessary and overdue. The upper castes, they say, have
dominated these institutions, and it is time they shared their privileges with
the socially disadvantaged.

As is not uncommon in India, the debate has generated more heat than light.
Those who oppose the move dismiss its supporters as 'populists'. They, in turn,
are charged with being 'elitists'. This article seeks to move beyond the
polemics to analyse the issue in its wider social and historical context. What
is the logic of reservation? And why does reservation find such favour among the
political class?

To answer these questions, we need to go back to August 1990, when the prime
minister, V.P. Singh, announced that 27 per cent of all Central government jobs
would henceforth be reserved for OBCs. Singh was here endorsing and implementing
the recommendations of the Mandal commission, constituted in 1978, and which
submitted its report two years later. This commission argued that caste was
still the main indicator of 'backwardness'. It identified, on the basis of state
surveys, as many as 3,743 specific castes which were still 'backward'. These
collectively constituted in excess of 50 per cent of the Indian population. Yet
these castes were very poorly represented in the administration, especially at
the higher levels. By the commission's calculations, the OBCs filled only 12.55
per cent of all posts in the Central government, and a mere 4.83 per cent of
Class I jobs.

To redress this anomaly, the Mandal commission recommended that 27 per cent of
all posts in the Central government be reserved for individuals from these
castes, to add to the 22.5 per cent already set apart for scheduled castes and
tribes. "We must recognize," said the commission, "that an essential part of the
battle against social backwardness is to be fought in the minds of the backward
people. In India, government service has always been looked upon as a symbol of
prestige and power. By increasing the representation of OBCs in government
services, we give them an immediate feeling of participation in the governance
of this country. When a backward caste candidate becomes a collector or
superintendent of police, the material benefits accruing from his position are
limited to the members of his family only. But the psychological spin off of
this phenomenon is tremendous; the entire community of that backward class
candidate feels elevated. Even when no tangible benefits flow to the community
at large, the feeling that now it has its 'own man' in the 'corridors of power'
acts as [a] morale booster."

The most acute assessment of the Mandal commission came from the pen of the
sociologist, André Béteille. He argued that reservation for SCs and STs (which
was already in existence) was undeniably motivated by the imperatives of social
justice. For centuries, these communities had been stigmatized, discriminated
against, and condescended to. The move to reserve 22.5 per cent of government
jobs for them was an acknowledgment of the need to redress a historical
injustice. On the other hand, reservation for OBCs was motivated by the
imperatives of power. These castes had benefited substantially from the agrarian
reforms undertaken after independence. Once tenants-at-will, they had now become
(sometimes very substantial) owner-cultivators themselves. At the same time,
since they were also very numerous, they had become influential in electoral
politics. Through the Sixties and Seventies, more and more OBCs became
legislators and parliamentarians, state ministers and chief ministers, and Union
ministers.

Economically and politically, the real beneficiaries of the Indian democracy had
been peasant castes such as Jats, Yadavs, Gujjars and Kurmis in the northern
states of Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Rajasthan and Haryana, Marathas
in Maharashtra, Vellalas and Gounders in Tamil Nadu, Reddys and Kammas in Andhra
Pradesh, and Lingayats and Vokkaligas in Karnataka. These castes now had more
land, and a greater presence in political parties and in the legislatures. What
they lacked was administrative power. By virtue of the privileges granted them
by the Constitution, the SCs and STs had begun entering government service.
Lacking a tradition of education, the OBCs were still kept out. This deficiency
was sought to be overcome by reserving a percentage of state jobs for them.

That, in sum, was the logic of the original Mandal commission. The recent
extension of reservation to elite educational institutions is - the word is
inescapable - a logical extension. For, in the recent impressive gains made by
the Indian economy, the OBCs have not benefited proportionately. Upper castes -
that is, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, and Vaishyas - constitute less than 20 per cent
of the Indian population. Yet they claim perhaps 80 per cent of the jobs in the
new economy, in sectors such as software, biotechnology, and hotel management.

In the popular mind, the IITs and the IIMs are something of a passport to the
new economy. Entry into one or the other is a virtual guarantee of a handsomely
paid job. The Brahmins and Banias crowd into these institutions because
generations of practice and social conditioning have made them adept at passing
the examinations required to gain entrance. The SCs and STs already have 22.5
per cent of seats reserved for them. But the OBCs remain at a disadvantage;
hence the pressure to reserve seats for them, too.

What is crucial here is that the IITs and IIMs are publicly funded institutions,
started by the state and kept going by the state. This makes it obligatory for
them to honour the constitutional mandate to promote equality of access and
opportunity.

In this respect, 'Mandal II' follows logically upon 'Mandal I'. It is a further
extension of OBC power and influence into a sector where it previously had
scarcely any presence at all. When Mandal I was endorsed by V.P. Singh in 1990,
there were howls of protest from communist members of parliament, who thought
'class' should also take precedence over 'caste'. The Congress president, Rajiv
Gandhi, also came out strongly against the proposal. And the Bharatiya Janata
Party leader, L.K. Advani, sought to answer Mandal with (the Ram) Mandir. This
time, however, the criticisms have been confined to the English language press
alone. Across the political spectrum, the proposal has been taken as a fait
accompli. For no party dare come out openly against a move that has the support
of such a numerous and politically powerful section of the Indian population.

My own personal opinion is that in a deeply divided society such as ours, some
form of reservation is indeed necessary. Indians born in castes historically
denied access to quality education do need special care and support. However, I
believe that in schools, colleges and offices alike, reservation should never
exceed 33.3 per cent. I also think that for SCs, STs and OBCs alike, family
income should be used to determine eligibility for reservation; that only one
generation in a family should be granted the privilege; and that children of
Class I officials, MLAs and MPs should not be allowed to avail of it. The first
restriction would permit institutions to function more autonomously and
efficiently than is the case when fully half of its posts are filled on
considerations other than individual merit. The second restriction would allow
the benefits of reservation to percolate more widely among the population.

But I am only an ordinary writer, with no political affiliation or influence.
What I (or my readers) think hardly matters. The principle of reservation is
written into the very logic of Indian politics and Indian democracy. In
dismissing a petition filed against the Mandal commission, the Supreme Court
imposed a limit of 50 per cent for reserved jobs and posts. I myself think this
is excessive; that one in three would work much better than one in two. Others
might argue that we should thank the judges for their small mercies - for had
they not specified a figure, there might have been no limit at all.?

Ramachandra Guha
02 May 2006

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