The Supreme Court’s decision to examine whether the benefits of reservation in government jobs and admissions should first reach the most socially and economically backward among Scheduled Castes (SCs), Scheduled Tribes (STs), and Other Backward Classes (OBCs) is a development with potentially far-reaching consequences. While the court has rightly cautioned that the matter is sensitive, the debate it opens is both timely and necessary.
The principle behind reservation has always been rooted in social justice, to correct centuries of exclusion and systemic discrimination. Yet, over decades, a new complexity has emerged: within these historically marginalised groups, a section has significantly advanced in education, employment, and income. The children of these families often enjoy a head start that their less fortunate community members can only dream of. This intra-community inequality means that the poorest and most marginalised within the reserved categories remain stuck on the margins, while the better-off continue to access the lion’s share of opportunities.
The Public Interest Litigation before the court stops short of suggesting any reduction in quota percentages. Instead, it seeks a re-prioritisation, an income-based mechanism to ensure that the first beneficiaries of reservation are those still grappling with poverty, illiteracy, and social exclusion. Such a proposal is not without precedent. Several states have experimented with “creamy layer” exclusions for OBCs, though extending similar principles to SCs and STs has long been a subject of contentious debate.
The issue resonates beyond the courtroom. In Nagaland, for instance, the ongoing tussle between the Five-Tribes Committee on Review of Reservation Policy and the state government reflects similar anxieties. Here too, voices have emerged questioning whether the existing framework adequately serves the truly disadvantaged, among other things. The protests, which now threaten to spill into a boycott of state functions, proves how deeply questions of fairness within reservation policies are felt.
However, moving toward an income-based prioritisation will not be without challenges. Defining “economic backwardness” in a way that is fair, verifiable, and resistant to misuse is fraught with difficulty. Moreover, there is a legitimate concern that introducing such filters could dilute the original purpose of caste-based reservation, which is to address structural discrimination, not merely economic disadvantage.
What is clear, however, is that the debate can no longer be postponed. If reservation is to remain a credible tool for upliftment, it must evolve to address inequities within marginalised groups themselves. The Supreme Court’s intervention could provide the framework for a more inclusive and equitable policy, but it will require political courage and administrative diligence to implement.
Nagaland’s experience offers a cautionary note that public trust in the process is just as important as the policy itself. In the end, the goal must remain unchanged: to ensure that opportunity reaches those who need it most, not just those best placed to claim it.
