India is preparing to conduct its most politically charged census in nearly a century. For the first time since 1931, caste – long a troubled and defining feature of Indian society – will be counted in gritty detail. The exercise promises to reshape both social policy and electoral arithmetic. But it also risks stoking divisions that the country has tried hard, often unsuccessfully, to surpass. The ten-yearly census, overseen by the Registrar General, under the Ministry of Home Affairs, was due in 2021. Covid-19 pushed it back, indefinitely. With elections out of the way, momentum is now building to resume the process, possibly in early 2026.
The logistics are staggering. More than 3 million field officers will spread out across 640,000 villages and thousands of towns, supplied with tablets and survey forms. A two-stage operation, first mapping dwellings, then counting people, will seek to secure the full demographic picture. Traditionally, India’s census has recorded Scheduled Castes and Tribes, but excluded detailed data on Other Backward Classes (OBCs) and general castes. The government now proposes to change that. The rationale is straightforward; policy must rest on facts, as certain opposition politicians tom-tom. With accurate data on caste distribution, more entitlements and subsidies will quickly follow, putting pressure on weak government finances. On the other hand, as some would argue, the case for a caste census is compelling. Caste continues to influence access to education, jobs, credit, housing and political voice. Ignoring it does not make it go away. A credible count could improve targeting of subsidies, fine-tune quotas and bring clarity to policy assumptions.
The implications are huge. A national caste census would offer the first authoritative measure of OBC populations since British rule. That data will inevitably feed into demands for expanded reservations in jobs and education. Some regional parties, notably in Bihar and Tamil Nadu, have already conducted caste surveys and are pressing for quotas to reflect numerical strength. A full national count could trigger what many are calling “Mandal 2.0”, a second wave of caste-based mobilisation, echoing the upheaval of the 1990s. The BJP, dominant in national politics, has so far approached the idea cautiously. Its voter base includes upper castes and aspirational OBCs. A fresh caste count may force it to recalibrate its pitch, especially as rivals use the data to court specific groups with promises of inclusion and largesse. The Congress party and regional players, see the census as an instrument of social justice, but really electoral opportunity.
Still, there are dangers. A fresh bout of competitive populism could ensue, with groups clamouring for recognition as “backward” to claim benefits. Social cohesion could suffer as India’s polity is adept at engineering divisions. A poorly managed caste census may give it new tools to do so. Enumerating caste is no simple task. Labels vary by region and language; sub-castes multiply endlessly. Self-declared identities may not align neatly with official classifications. The 2011 Socio-Economic and Caste Census, a partial attempt, was marred by inconsistencies and never released in full. This time, officials will need clearer frameworks, tighter controls and smarter technology.
But caste is not just data – it is identity and history. Elevating it to the centre of political debate risks ossifying divisions that social progress seeks to erase. The challenge is to use the data, not to reinforce caste, but to dismantle its power over people’s lives. India is right to seek clarity, nonetheless it must also tread carefully. The census may count castes but It will also test the maturity of its democracy.