The compulsion is for jobs and educational facilities in government establishments under the quota system, writes AMULYA GANGULY.
The reckless populism of politicians finally came home to roost in Rajasthan. Until the Gurjar-Meena confrontation showed the consequences of the dangerous game which they had been playing, the political class saw the quota system as a convenient way to pander to sectarian identities to woo voters. Although the 50 per cent limit on the total number of reservations was a constraint, even if it is ignored in Tamil Nadu, the politicians of north India presumed that they could advance their partisan interests by cutting up the reservation pie into various slices.
Hence, the recent suggestions for quotas for the indigent among the forward castes and, indeed, for all the underprivileged and the religious minorities. Evidently, just as the politicians used the Ninth Schedule as a “laundry bag” for dumping all legislations which they thought advanced their partisan interests in the name of the poor until the Supreme Court intervened, quotas had become the arrows in their quivers for fighting political as well as personal battles. If V P Singh had let the genie out of the bottle in 1990 with his OBC reservations to counter Devi Lal, his rival of the time, Arjun Singh used the same trick a decade and a half later with his suggestions for OBC quotas in institutes of higher learning to emphasise his relevance vis-à-vis Manmohan Singh.
The advantage of the politicians was that the numerical preponderance and the growing political clout of the backward castes enabled them to ignore the complaints of those at the receiving end of the quota game, mainly the upper castes and the urban middle classes, who were small in number. During V P Singh’s time, the violent protests against the implementation of the Mandal Commission report soon petered out and only the attempt at self-immolation by 20-year Rajeev Goswami remained in public memory. It was different, however, in Arjun Singh’s time because, in the intervening period, the middle classes had become not only larger in numbers but also politically more influential in the new liberalised era. Hence, the promptness with which the Veerappa Moily committee was set up to ensure that the middle class students were not sidelined during the admission procedure.
But it is only the Gurjar upsurge which has exposed the ugly face of the quota system. It showed that it wasn’t a question of hasty palliative measures alone, like increasing the number of seats in higher academic institutes, but that the system itself is flawed. For one, it reinforces the sense of caste identity, which all enlightened people at the time of Independence thought would gradually wither away. For another, it poisons inter-caste relationships as nothing else can. Once this bitterness permeates the social scene, making Meena medical personnel leave their posts when the Gurjar patients are brought in, it undermines national cohesion in a manner which is not much different from what happens in the wake of Hindu-Muslim riots. Apart from anything else, it tends to show India as ungovernable with its inevitably harmful consequences for the economy. The focus on caste also helps in the growth of provincial chieftains with a closed mofussil mindset, whose sectarianism is the be-all and end-all of their politics.
While ignoring the earlier middle class protests against reservations, which the Left mocked as being “elitist”, the myopic politicians didn’t envisage a situation when two closely matched communities would vie for the same piece of the reservation cake. Now, they can neither antagonise the Gurjars by denying them access to the Scheduled Tribe (ST) status in Rajasthan, which they enjoy elsewhere, nor can they dismiss the objections of the Meenas to a further crowding of the ST list with the induction of the Gurjars, who are now in the OBC category. Yet, none of this would have happened if the Jats, known for their aggression, were not sought to be won over by the BJP in 2003 with the granting of the OBC status, thereby angering the equally assertive Gurjars, who trace their origin to the entry of the Huns into India in the 5th century.
However, in seeking relegation from the OBC to the ST category, the Gurjars have highlighted another flaw in the quota system, which puts a premium on what is generally considered a subordinate position in social terms. Considering that the Gurjars were earlier denied an ST status in Rajasthan because they were not deemed “primitive” enough, it is worth noting that they are now willing to accept such a seemingly inferior position for the sake of whatever benefits they can secure in being classified as adivasis or original inhabitants. Intriguingly, the Meenas apparently wouldn’t mind moving to the Scheduled Caste (SC) category of the “untouchables” if the Gurjars are accommodated in the ST grouping.
While such attitudes may show that the earlier stigmas associated with such labels are disappearing, the compulsion is evidently not a growing sense of egalitarianism, but the quest for jobs and educational facilities in government establishments under the quota system. This reverse sanskritisation process turns sociologist M N Srinivas’s famous term on its head. If the earlier preference was to climb the social ladder by imitating the upper castes by turning vegetarian, wearing the sacred thread and observing other rituals of the twice-born, the present eagerness to climb down underlines the dearth of opportunities, which may have been accentuated by the downsizing of government departments in the liberalisation era. As a result, it emphasises the lopsided nature of Indian society where descent scores over ascent. Little wonder that the Supreme Court has said that “nowhere in the world do castes, classes and communities queue up for the sake of gaining backward status”.