By Sai Ganesh Akarapu
In September, the Telangana government issued a government order to raise the reservation for Other Backward Classes (OBCs) in local bodies to 42 per cent, based on findings from its caste survey. The survey revealed that OBCs constitute 56.33 percent of the state’s population, establishing a clear case for proportional representation. Yet this move was met with judicial resistance. The High Court imposed a stay, and on October 16 the Supreme Court refused to lift it, citing precedents and reaffirming the 50 per cent ceiling. This legal block renews a foundational debate on caste, equality, and the constitutional limits of affirmative action.
The ceiling traces back to Indra Sawhney v. Union of India in 1992, in which the Supreme Court held that reservation must remain within 50 per cent to preserve equality. The Court framed reservation as an exception to the general principle of formal equality. This framing has shaped jurisprudence for over three decades, treating affirmative action as an exception rather than a constitutional commitment to dismantling caste-based exclusion.
But reservation is not a concession. It is a constitutional instrument of substantive equality, designed to dismantle entrenched social hierarchies and promote equal opportunity. Articles 15 and 16 do not treat affirmative action as a deviation. They envision it as a structural tool to achieve real equality in a society organised by caste. Yet judicial interpretations often reduce these provisions to procedural formality.
In K Krishnamurthy v. Union of India, the Court insisted that quantifiable data must back backward-class representation. In Vikas Kishanrao Gawali v. State of Maharashtra, it laid out a triple test: An independent commission, an assessment of adequate representation, and adherence to the 50 per cent ceiling. While both judgments emphasise data-driven policy, they also reinforce a ceiling that fails to engage with the lived realities of caste-based exclusion. Locking reservation into a narrow framework sidelines the Constitution’s commitment to social transformation.
Telangana’s policy aligns with the principles laid out in Gawali and Krishnamurthy. Its caste survey satisfies the first two criteria of the triple test. Yet the courts continue to treat the 50 per cent ceiling as nearly absolute, disregarding demographic realities where backward classes form the majority. Meanwhile, the quota for Economically Weaker Sections breaches this ceiling without judicial opposition. This selective enforcement highlights embedded upper-caste biases in institutional frameworks.
Tamil Nadu offers a revealing contrast. The state has long maintained a 69 per cent reservation policy, protected by placing its law in the Ninth Schedule, shielding it from judicial scrutiny. Telangana could consider a similar move to safeguard its OBC reservation law from invalidation. However, this requires action by the Union government, which alone can place laws in the Ninth Schedule through Parliament. Supreme Court judgments in Kesavananda Bharati and I R Coelho clarify that such protection is not absolute. If a law violates the Constitution’s basic structure, it risks being struck down. The doctrine’s ambiguous nature leaves it to the Court’s interpretation to determine what constitutes a violation. Ninth Schedule placement is not a foolproof shield, as the Court can rule that such laws infringe the basic structure. This underscores the need for comprehensive constitutional reform. Pressure must mount on the central government, not only to protect state-level assertions but also to enable a flexible, justice-oriented constitutional framework.
Reforms must include constitutional amendments that empower states to tailor reservation to their demographic realities, backed by transparent socio-economic data. Legal reform alone is insufficient. India’s judiciary remains deeply unequal, with backward classes severely underrepresented in high courts and the Supreme Court. This imbalance skews judicial sensitivity to caste realities and reinforces rigid ceilings disconnected from social complexity. Democratising the judiciary is essential, not just for fair adjudication but to align interpretation with the goals of substantive equality.
Beyond the judiciary, capturing state power across political, legal, and media institutions is crucial. Without control over these institutions, marginalised communities remain politically subordinate, and reservation alone cannot dismantle systemic exclusion. Only when backward classes possess genuine control over state power at all levels can they implement policies that reflect their interests and drive transformation.
As B R Ambedkar said, political power is the master key to unlocking social and economic rights. Telangana’s reservation conflict is a broader democratic struggle for inclusion, challenging rigid legal orthodoxies and entrenched hierarchies.
The postponement of local body elections in Telangana underscores the urgency of resolving this impasse. The state’s push for a 42 percent OBC quota, backed by data, awaiting presidential approval, and stalled by judicial orders, is more than a policy proposal. It is a political assertion rooted in historical justice. This deadlock reveals the widening gap between constitutional rigidity and India’s evolving social realities.
In summary, genuine equality requires a comprehensive strategy, including constitutional amendments allowing flexibility based on socio-demographic data; transparent policymaking overseen by independent expert commissions; democratisation of judicial appointments to reflect India’s diversity; and, most critically, a determined political mobilisation and capture of state power by the backward classes.
Only through this holistic approach can India realise its constitutional promise of justice and equality, fulfilling the hopes of millions who have been historically denied political, social, and economic inclusion.
The writer is a research associate at Centre for Policy Research, University of Hyderabad
