Written by Nivedhitha K
Last month, the Cabinet Committee on Political Affairs, chaired by the Prime Minister, announced that the upcoming national Census exercise will include caste enumeration. Much of the debate since has been centred on how this move could bolster caste-based political mobilisation and reshape affirmative action policies in India. However, an equally important aspect is unexplored: The impact of the caste census on delimitation.
The caste profile of its population was relevant to India’s delimitation exercise even before independence. Under the Government of India Act, 1935, separate electorates were provided for the ‘Depressed Classes’ (now called the Scheduled Castes). To implement this provision, the list of Depressed Classes was identified based on the Census Report of Hutton (1931) and the Report of the Indian Franchise Committee (1932). Upon the adoption of the Constitution, separate electorates were replaced by the reservation of seats in the Lok Sabha and State Assemblies for the Scheduled Castes (SCs) and the Scheduled Tribes (STs) in proportion to their population.
To comply with this constitutional mandate, every Census since Independence has included the enumeration of the SC and ST populations. Based on these figures, the number of reserved seats has been revised at every delimitation exercise. In 1953, 62 seats were reserved for SCs based on the 1952 Census figures, which was increased to 75 in 1963 based on the 1961 Census and 77 in 1974 based on the 1972 Census figures.
As opposed to this, the total population of the Other Backward Classes — both at the national and state levels — was not methodically enumerated. The National Commissions for Backward Classes (Mandal and Kalelkar Commissions) were constituted only to identify the criteria for defining the socially and educationally backward classes and issuing recommendations for their advancement.
The proposed caste census will broaden the net. Its scope, appearing likely at the current juncture, will not be limited to studying the total population of members of the SCs, STs, or OBCs at the national and state levels. Rather, it will be a complete set of demographic data that will include information on age, gender, residential address, and caste of citizens. This large repository of data could be used to determine the caste-wise population within the larger caste groups (SCs, STs, and OBCs), which could then be used to ensure that affirmative action policies reach the most marginalised communities.
However, this data could also be used to study the political preferences of voters. In a country where caste-based voting behaviour persists, demographic data on the residential patterns of castes could be used to identify the political affiliation of voters. It was in acknowledgement of the potential misuse of such data to thwart the free exercise of an electoral franchise that the Supreme Court in the Electoral Bonds case recognised that the Constitution guarantees informational privacy of political affiliation.
In the specific context of delimitation, caste census data could be used to redraw electoral boundaries in a manner that could alter the electoral mobilisation of castes. For example, the demographic data may indicate that OBCs in Madurai are concentrated around central Madurai. The Delimitation Commission could split this population across multiple constituencies, thereby diluting the ability of the OBCs to mobilise while exercising their electoral franchise. In effect, what appears to be a neutral redrawing of boundaries could cause electoral demobilisation, a phenomenon where social groups cannot mobilise to select their representatives.
The law governing delimitation does not include safeguards to prevent such implications. The Delimitation Commission Act recognises the nexus between caste and voting behaviour to a limited extent by requiring that constituencies where the proportion of the population of SCs or STs is comparatively larger than the total must be reserved for them. Beyond this, the nexus between caste and voting behaviour is not accounted for. The Act prescribes ostensibly “neutral” factors such as population, physical features, existing boundaries of administrative units, and facilities of communication to guide the delimitation exercise. Yet, despite these guidelines, the Delimitation Commission retains wide discretion, allowing it to draw boundaries in ways that alter the ability of social groups to mobilise electorally.
Some may argue that the Delimitation Commission is less likely to manipulate electoral constituencies since it consists of a sitting or retired Supreme Court Judge, the Chief Election Commissioner, and the State Election Commissioner. This misses the point: The tenacity of an institution must never be judged by the strength of those who wield power but by the rules that guide the exercise of power. The law constituting the Delimitation Commission creates a weak institution by allowing it wide powers and functions without enough transparency. It suffers from three major institutional weaknesses.
First, though the public can object to draft delimitation proposals, the Commission is only required to “consider” these objections, rendering it an inconsequential procedural requirement. Second, the final delimitation order need not be approved by Parliament. It is sufficient if the order is tabled in Parliament. The absence of parliamentary oversight makes delimitation a completely executive-driven process, given that the executive has an overarching influence in the appointments of both the Chief Election Commissioner and State Election Commissioners. Third, delimitation orders are largely barred from judicial review. In Megharaj Kotari, a Constitution Bench held that courts are barred from judicially reviewing delimitation orders to prevent legal challenges from delaying the electoral processes. A two-judge Bench of the Supreme Court in Kishorechandra attempted to dilute this position by holding that delimitation orders are subject to judicial review if they are “manifestly arbitrary and violative of constitutional values”. However, the standard for determining manifest arbitrariness and violation of constitutional values is unclear.
Given these institutional gaps, it is crucial to ensure that the delimitation process following the caste census does not result in electoral demobilisation. To prevent this, the lawmakers must strengthen institutional rules and limit the discretionary power that the Delimitation Commission wields. It can begin by prescribing clear guidelines for delimitation that reflect India’s social structure, narrowing the Commission’s discretion, and enhancing transparency and public accountability. For it is only a well-regulated, transparent, and inclusive approach towards delimitation that will strengthen the foundations of democracy.
Nivedhitha K is a Project Fellow at Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy