Jatin Mathur
Recently, the UGC mandated protective guidelines against caste discrimination in higher educational institutions. These regulations stem from a 2019 petition in the Apex Court filed by the mothers of Payal Tadvi and Rohith Vemula, which raised concerns over the 2012 equity regulations. Unlike the 2012 regulations—which were advisory, did not address action against institutional non-compliance, failed to specify the composition of Equal Opportunity Cells, and exempted OBCs from the discriminated category—the 2026 regulations mandate the formation of an Equal Opportunity Centre and an Equity Committee to address complaints. However, these regulations have activated the caste consciousness of ‘dwijas’, who are anxious about the implementation of equity guidelines.
The guidelines have uncloaked the myth of Hindu unity or ‘Hindu Bhaichara’, which ideally signifies fraternity but often manifests as savarna ‘Bhai’ and bahujan ‘charas’. The ongoing outcry over the protective guidelines has made this evident. They have also uncovered the Brahminism smeared as Hindutva to invoke a political majority; now, so-called bhakts are calling the “Hindu Hriday Samrath” Modi ji a “Teli” by his caste name. Egalitarians might have anticipated the outrage of priestly Brahmins, who would leave no stone unturned to preserve their privileges, but they certainly would not anticipate the silence of “progressive forces” on the protective guidelines.
This reminds me of Dr Ambedkar’s statement in Annihilation of Caste (1936): “In my judgment, it is useless to make a distinction between the secular Brahmins and priestly Brahmins. Both are kith and kin. They are two arms of the same body and one is bound to fight for the existence of the other.” This statement holds relevance in uncovering the caste nexus and the anatomy of caste capital in the Indian socio-political landscape. The outrage demanding impunity and the silent solidarities inform us about the caste loyalties that must be uncloaked.
Demand for Impunity
The twice-born savarnas base their protest on the implication that the regulations can lead to “harassment” of the general category and create divisions based on caste. This anxiety can be traced to their privilege, which has gone unchecked and unregulated for ages. This privilege is not limited to the material, socio-cultural, and political domains but entails impunity for the oppression imparted by them upon Bahujans.
The demand to roll back the UGC guidelines is like arguing to roll back regulations against sexual harassment owing to false complaints. It is the same logic that argues we must do away with the Domestic Violence Act because it harasses the family, while in reality, it is the oppressive structure and power relations that get challenged when women seek justice. The insecurity among the twice-born originates from the threat to caste privileges and the structural impunity they have enjoyed religiously.
I would invoke Bourdieu (1982) here to argue that this outrage is a classificatory struggle where the twice-born defend caste habitus, privilege, and impunity by portraying equity as “discrimination” to preserve symbolic capital.
Perhaps discrimination has risen so much that Dalit students boycott savarnas on campuses by committing suicide rather than living with them? Between January 1, 1995, and December 31, 2019, India lost more than 1,70,000 students to suicide, according to the National Crime Records Bureau. Undoubtedly, there are incident-specific reasons, but it cannot be a coincidence that for every 25 cases of suicide, 23 are Dalits (Nayar 2017, The Statesman, May 23). Perhaps the argument is empirically valid, as Bahujans allegedly hate savarnas so much that about 13,626 students from the Scheduled Caste (SC), Scheduled Tribe (ST), and Other Backward Classes (OBC) communities have dropped out of central universities, IITs, and IIMs in the last five years (Hindustan Times, 2023, December 4).
Further concerns are raised about the composition of EOCs, citing that it excludes savarnas, while neglecting their over-representation in decision-making positions at the institutional level. The acceptance of a “manufactured consensus” around “harassment” and discrimination against Dwijas by the educated class, and the subsequent stay by the Supreme Court on the UGC equity guidelines, must lead Bahujans to an awareness of their underrepresentation in the media and judiciary. It must also expose the antagonism that exists among Dwija peers—those who seek political support by labelling themselves as Hindu and those who seek progressive solidarities as secular.
It is the cultural hegemony of savarnas over socio-political discourse that carries a self-legitimacy in their claims and remains unquestioned, while Bahujans bear the burden of proof for their plight. This cultural influence is alarming: a community must lose students to suicide and remains suspect, deemed potential false complainants, while the oppressor may fabricate a hypothetically implied discrimination and harassment and convince the nation to believe it.
The Post-Mortem Solidarities
For the last five years, I have been part of the university landscape and have keenly observed social dynamics, at least in Delhi universities. I shared a cohort with peers who were loyal Brahminists—who would literally go on to defend the Manusmriti—and secular Brahmins, whom I often met at protests where they would raise their right hand, point a finger skyward, and say “down with Brahminism,” or at conferences where they would provide ‘thick descriptions’ of casted and gendered experiences.
Initially, I was glad about the increasing equity consciousness, particularly among people with privilege. However, when Brahminism and caste manifest on campuses, that finger remains upward as a misdirection from the real agents who reproduce the caste structure, and the slogan ‘down with Brahminism’ becomes a hollow aspiration, unsubstantiated by material action. The silences of secular Brahmins legitimize false claims of “harassment” of savarnas while maintaining the social and cultural capital of savarna identity.
The socio-political landscape in India has observed a shift in recent times, where Babasaheb and Bahujans have gained a place in electoral and progressive semiotics; however, it would not be incorrect to call this appropriation and symbolism. This symbolism is prominently visible in progressive spaces, particularly when issues of institutional discrimination and structural violence are under question.
One must remember the progressive solidarities invoked on campuses, which call for a collective struggle against all forms of inequality. The justice seekers for Rohith Vemula—we must enquire, where are they now? Do they always need a death or a case to protest, or do they not support protective measures on campuses? Now, when it matters most, they have kept mum. I have no hesitation in calling such solidarities ‘post-mortem solidarities’; they are only invoked post-event, often as a critical reaction. However, when it comes to making compassionate efforts to produce equal spaces through protective measures, they remain hesitant.
Two reasons can be pointed out for this hesitation: first, it requires consistent self-awareness of one’s own privilege and actions, meaning one’s social location and actions will not go unchecked but must align with a vision for equality. Second, it mandates pointing fingers at their kith and kin, putting their caste capital at threat. Progressive movements have often questioned anti-caste social movements on the grounds of their identitarian claims to social justice, but it is their own identities that limit their voice on issues of caste. What stops them from lighting the Janeu, which binds them to their caste identities? Why are their caste communities more important than their vision for a just world?
The question must also be raised against the agency of epistemic communities, which remains confined to conference rooms. Abstract theorizations and thick descriptions of casted and gendered experiences may invoke sympathy in readers’ minds, but their subjects are deprived of the empathetic solidarity that transforms into change in their social and political lives. Throughout human history, we observe the sociological fact that social movements and policy changes bring social change. However, caste-privileged progressive forces, at least in this regard, have remained reactive in social movements and supported silence on these protective policies. I reiterate what I argued earlier: progressive solidarities in India have been unidirectional, restrained by caste privilege.
~~~
Jatin Mathur is a Master’s graduate in Sociology from Delhi School of Economics with interests in Sociology of Identity, Sociology of Education, and Critical Realism; Co-founder of Campus Wellness Initiative, which works with students’ well-being and caste equity.
