<p>As India nears the 2027 Census, the Union Government has approved an enumeration of caste data, without any linkage to reservation. This long-overdue exercise offers a historic opportunity to confront caste as it truly exists, persisting despite decades of constitutional silence. Yet, as India gears up to record caste identities, a fundamental question lingers: will the 2027 Census count caste across all religions?</p>.<p>Although the caste system is predominantly associated with Hinduism, it has permeated other religions. Contrary to popular belief, conversion of Hindus has not always eradicated their caste hierarchies; rather, it has created castes-like hierarchies within non-Hindu religious communities. However, the Indian State has historically refused to legally acknowledge these caste realities outside the Hindu fold. The Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order of 1950 limits Scheduled Caste (SC) recognition to Hindus, later extended to Sikhs (1956) and Buddhists (1990). Dalits who convert to Christianity or Islam are thus excluded from SC status and the entitlement to rights and affirmative action that follow from it. This legal erasure reinforces the very marginalisation that prompted many to convert in the first place.</p>.<p>The absence of legal recognition has also meant an absence of reliable data. The last available official estimate, by the National Commission for Minorities in 2008, placed the population of Dalit Christians and Muslims at around 32 lakh. Since then, there has been no clear governmental stance or enumeration.</p>.<p>This makes the 2027 caste census a potentially transformative moment. Yet, the Census Commissioner’s office has offered no clarity on whether caste identities will be recorded for Dalit Christians and Muslims. Without such recognition, the census risks replicating the very exclusions it seeks to undo.</p>.<p>The ambiguity surrounding caste enumeration across religions stems partly from the Supreme Court’s decision in S Rajagopal vs C M Armugam (1968). The Court held that caste identity does not vanish upon conversion to a non-Hindu faith; rather, it enters a state of “eclipse”, a temporary suspension of legal caste recognition. This metaphor, although vague, continues to shape the constitutional and policy response to Dalit converts.</p>.<p>In effect, the Court held that caste identity is not permanently extinguished on conversion; rather, it can be revived only upon reconversion to Hinduism, subject to three conditions: a) clear evidence of reconversion; b) acceptance by former caste or community; and c) genuine reconversion as opposed to a strategic bid to claim reservation.</p>.<p>This interpretation by the Court in S Rajagopal treats caste not as a lived structural condition but as a dormant legal category – a status in waiting, contingent upon religious belonging and community validation. It considers caste as a “legal status”, that can be eclipsed or revived based on religious identity and social acceptance. This approach to caste identities raises difficult but pertinent questions: What happens to a Dalit convert who continues to face discrimination but does not reconvert to Hinduism? Is their caste identity effectively erased for legal and statistical purposes? One could reasonably infer this in the affirmative.</p>.<p><strong>The right to be counted</strong></p>.<p>S Rajagopal gave rise to a constitutional discomfort. If questioned about the caste enumeration of Dalit converts, the government may argue that caste is temporarily erased upon conversion until three conditions are met. However, S. Rajagopal addressed caste in a strictly legal sense, ruling that SC status cannot be granted to converts from the Hindu fold to Christianity. This position of the Court is now under reconsideration in Centre for Public Interest Litigation vs Union of India. Until then, the position adopted in <br>S Rajagopal remains the law.</p>.<p>This narrow legal construction stands in stark contrast to a deeper social reality: caste is neither a legal artefact nor rooted in theology. The contradiction becomes more pronounced by the Supreme Court’s own precedents. In Indra Sawhney vs Union of India (1992), the Court unequivocally affirmed that caste is a sociological (not religious) category that is rooted in birth rather than belief. It also endorsed the First Backward Classes Commission’s findings that caste distinctions persist even among Indian Muslims and Christians. This reinforces the notion that conversion does not erase caste; it simply renders it invisible under the criteria used to define the SC category.</p>.<p>Similarly, in K P Manu vs Chairman Scrutiny Committee (2015), the Supreme Court acknowledged that caste often persists as a social identity even after conversion, especially in South India. The Court simultaneously held that such sociological retention of caste does not automatically confer SC status, which is recognised only when caste aligns with specific constitutional and statutory criteria. This position rests on the distinction between caste as a lived social reality and SC as a legal category created by the State to redress historical oppression arising from untouchability.</p>.<p>Caste enumeration, unlike recognition of SC status, is a descriptive exercise not aimed at conferring legal benefits but to record the social structure as it exists. Citing S Rajagopal to deny caste enumeration is a misapplication of a narrow rule meant to determine SC eligibility, conflating a rule on constitutional reservations for SC with a broader empirical effort to understand caste across communities.</p>.<p>The omission to count Dalit converts from the 2027 Census would foreclose an opportunity for historically excluded communities to even be seen in the data. The demand here is not for constitutional benefits, but for a basic democratic right: to be statistically counted and democratically seen. Enumeration alone will not resolve the legal debate over SC status, but it can inform it with evidence, enabling more grounded judicial and policy decisions in the future.</p>.<p><em>(Mayuri is Milon K Banerji Senior Resident Fellow at Charkha, Vidhi <br>Centre for Legal Policy; Tanmay is from the Rajiv Gandhi National <br>University of Law, Patiala)</em></p>
<p>As India nears the 2027 Census, the Union Government has approved an enumeration of caste data, without any linkage to reservation. This long-overdue exercise offers a historic opportunity to confront caste as it truly exists, persisting despite decades of constitutional silence. Yet, as India gears up to record caste identities, a fundamental question lingers: will the 2027 Census count caste across all religions?</p>.<p>Although the caste system is predominantly associated with Hinduism, it has permeated other religions. Contrary to popular belief, conversion of Hindus has not always eradicated their caste hierarchies; rather, it has created castes-like hierarchies within non-Hindu religious communities. However, the Indian State has historically refused to legally acknowledge these caste realities outside the Hindu fold. The Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order of 1950 limits Scheduled Caste (SC) recognition to Hindus, later extended to Sikhs (1956) and Buddhists (1990). Dalits who convert to Christianity or Islam are thus excluded from SC status and the entitlement to rights and affirmative action that follow from it. This legal erasure reinforces the very marginalisation that prompted many to convert in the first place.</p>.<p>The absence of legal recognition has also meant an absence of reliable data. The last available official estimate, by the National Commission for Minorities in 2008, placed the population of Dalit Christians and Muslims at around 32 lakh. Since then, there has been no clear governmental stance or enumeration.</p>.<p>This makes the 2027 caste census a potentially transformative moment. Yet, the Census Commissioner’s office has offered no clarity on whether caste identities will be recorded for Dalit Christians and Muslims. Without such recognition, the census risks replicating the very exclusions it seeks to undo.</p>.<p>The ambiguity surrounding caste enumeration across religions stems partly from the Supreme Court’s decision in S Rajagopal vs C M Armugam (1968). The Court held that caste identity does not vanish upon conversion to a non-Hindu faith; rather, it enters a state of “eclipse”, a temporary suspension of legal caste recognition. This metaphor, although vague, continues to shape the constitutional and policy response to Dalit converts.</p>.<p>In effect, the Court held that caste identity is not permanently extinguished on conversion; rather, it can be revived only upon reconversion to Hinduism, subject to three conditions: a) clear evidence of reconversion; b) acceptance by former caste or community; and c) genuine reconversion as opposed to a strategic bid to claim reservation.</p>.<p>This interpretation by the Court in S Rajagopal treats caste not as a lived structural condition but as a dormant legal category – a status in waiting, contingent upon religious belonging and community validation. It considers caste as a “legal status”, that can be eclipsed or revived based on religious identity and social acceptance. This approach to caste identities raises difficult but pertinent questions: What happens to a Dalit convert who continues to face discrimination but does not reconvert to Hinduism? Is their caste identity effectively erased for legal and statistical purposes? One could reasonably infer this in the affirmative.</p>.<p><strong>The right to be counted</strong></p>.<p>S Rajagopal gave rise to a constitutional discomfort. If questioned about the caste enumeration of Dalit converts, the government may argue that caste is temporarily erased upon conversion until three conditions are met. However, S. Rajagopal addressed caste in a strictly legal sense, ruling that SC status cannot be granted to converts from the Hindu fold to Christianity. This position of the Court is now under reconsideration in Centre for Public Interest Litigation vs Union of India. Until then, the position adopted in <br>S Rajagopal remains the law.</p>.<p>This narrow legal construction stands in stark contrast to a deeper social reality: caste is neither a legal artefact nor rooted in theology. The contradiction becomes more pronounced by the Supreme Court’s own precedents. In Indra Sawhney vs Union of India (1992), the Court unequivocally affirmed that caste is a sociological (not religious) category that is rooted in birth rather than belief. It also endorsed the First Backward Classes Commission’s findings that caste distinctions persist even among Indian Muslims and Christians. This reinforces the notion that conversion does not erase caste; it simply renders it invisible under the criteria used to define the SC category.</p>.<p>Similarly, in K P Manu vs Chairman Scrutiny Committee (2015), the Supreme Court acknowledged that caste often persists as a social identity even after conversion, especially in South India. The Court simultaneously held that such sociological retention of caste does not automatically confer SC status, which is recognised only when caste aligns with specific constitutional and statutory criteria. This position rests on the distinction between caste as a lived social reality and SC as a legal category created by the State to redress historical oppression arising from untouchability.</p>.<p>Caste enumeration, unlike recognition of SC status, is a descriptive exercise not aimed at conferring legal benefits but to record the social structure as it exists. Citing S Rajagopal to deny caste enumeration is a misapplication of a narrow rule meant to determine SC eligibility, conflating a rule on constitutional reservations for SC with a broader empirical effort to understand caste across communities.</p>.<p>The omission to count Dalit converts from the 2027 Census would foreclose an opportunity for historically excluded communities to even be seen in the data. The demand here is not for constitutional benefits, but for a basic democratic right: to be statistically counted and democratically seen. Enumeration alone will not resolve the legal debate over SC status, but it can inform it with evidence, enabling more grounded judicial and policy decisions in the future.</p>.<p><em>(Mayuri is Milon K Banerji Senior Resident Fellow at Charkha, Vidhi <br>Centre for Legal Policy; Tanmay is from the Rajiv Gandhi National <br>University of Law, Patiala)</em></p>
