Sukumar

“A philosophically, theoretically and empirically well organized book which
traces the untold narratives of sufferings of students of castes located at the lowest
ebb of the hierarchically structured Indian society from an evolutionary perspec-
tive. Methodologically, it substantiates its findings with the collection of com-
prehensive primary and secondary data about representation of various social
groups in the India university system. On the one hand, the book successfully
deconstructs the myth of merit prevailing in the Indian academia. On the other
hand, it reveals the creativity and reflexivity of the students belonging to ‘lower
castes’ with new metaphors. On the whole the book takes us to new horizons of
imagination about India’s higher education and reminds us about Frere’s pro-
phetic word, ‘pedagogy of the oppressed will be written by the oppressed which
will emancipate the oppressor and the oppressed both’. I am confident it will be
welcomed with open arms by both generalists and specialists.”
Vivek Kumar, Chairperson, Centre for the Study of Social Systems, School of
Social Sciences, Jawaharlal Nehru University, and Visiting Professor at
Columbia University, New York, USA
“Rigorously researched and persuasively argued, ‘Caste Discrimination and Exclu-

sion in Indian Universities: A Critical Reflection’ by Narayana Sukumar opens us
for scrutiny the legacies of injustice that pervade our institutions of higher learning.
Narayana Sukumar unravels the ‘university’ as a system of non-discriminatory
public access to education to reveal the continuing pervasion of caste-hierarchies in
the institutional and social space of the university. Taking recourse to empirical
data pertaining to enrolment and employment of Dalit students and teachers in
universities, and personal narratives of ‘betrayal’ and incremental ‘exclusions’,
Narayana Sukumar, weaves together a scathing critique of what he calls the social
cosmology of ‘merit’ and the pervasiveness of structural inequalities. While the
merit discourse has assumed various forms, the pandemic has exacerbated the fault-
lines along which caste, class, and gender have played out shaping Dalit experi-
ences. Indeed, structural inequalities have become manifest in quotidian experiences
of humiliation and often also in spectacles of ‘death’ – social and material. Policies,
including those of affirmative action and grievance redressal in universities, and
participatory channels in universities, e.g., in the recruitment process, become
symbolic and not emphatic. This is an important and relevant book – an indis-
pensable reading for anyone who wants to make sense of the social, political and
material basis of universities in India.”
Ujjwal Kumar Singh, Professor of Political Science, Delhi University, India
Caste Discrimination and Exclusion in
Indian Universities
This book studies the exclusion and discrimination that is meted out to Scheduled
Caste (SC) students in the Indian Higher Education system, and the psychosocial
consequences of such practices. It foregrounds the conceptual debates around
caste, exclusion, and reservations in Indian academia, discussing the social
dominance and the roots of prejudices in the university spaces.
The volume reflects upon the fragile social world in which students from the
margins struggle for survival in the academic space. It reveals that these students
navigate the various facets of academia – like classrooms, pedagogy, scholarships,
hostels, peer groups, and teachers – only to find the academic space a dystopian
universe. The book also sheds light on suicide cases committed by the marginalized
groups as a testimony of protest.
Based on in-depth ethnographic research, this book will be of interest to
teachers, students and researchers of education, sociology, political science,
psychology, and exclusion studies. It will also be useful for policymakers, social
activists, NGOs, research centers, and those working in higher education,
reservations, public policy, caste, and exclusion studies.
N. Sukumar teaches Political Science at Delhi University, India. His area of

interest includes Indian Political Thought, Ambedkar and Dalit Bahujan Stu-
dies, Human Rights and Social Exclusion. Currently, he is engaged on Dalit
Citizenship and Anti-Caste Utopias. He is also member/advisor for many pro-
fessional bodies in many Central Universities and other institutions. He has
published widely in research journals, blogs etc. and has been involved in both
national and international research studies on poverty and public institutions,
caste-based atrocities, and discrimination. Apart from the classroom, he is also
actively involved in grassroots peoples’ struggles.
Caste Discrimination and
Exclusion in Indian Universities
A Critical Reflection
N. Sukumar
First published 2023
by Routledge
4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2023 N. Sukumar
The right of N. Sukumar to be identified as author of this work has been
asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any
information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from
the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation
without intent to infringe.
The views and opinions expressed in this book are those of author and do not
necessarily reflect the views and opinions of Routledge.
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
A catalog record has been requested for this book
ISBN: 978-0-367-55689-1 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-032-29051-5 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-003-09529-3 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293
Typeset in Sabon
by Taylor & Francis Books
To my grandmother (Boosamma), who was my first teacher
Contents
List of tables x
Foreword xii
Acknowledgements xv
Abbreviations xviii
1 Caste and the Academia 1

2 Dalits and Higher Education in India: A Fact Sheet 42
3 Unequal Spaces: Mapping Caste Discrimination in Indian
Universities 64
4 A Social History of Indian Academia 113
5 “My Birth is My Fatal Accident”: Social Semantics of Dalit
Students’ Suicides 146
6 Conclusion: Social Cosmology of Merit and Pervasive Injustices 168
Appendix: RTI Table 180

Index 185
Tables
1.1 Details of the Selected Institutions, Courses and Gender 33

2.1 A Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: (Comparison of
SC and all Categories. Selected States, 2011–12) 45
2.2 Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: (Comparison of SC
and all Categories. Selected States, 2018–19) 46
2.3 Category Wise Enrolment of Students in Various Types of
Universities/Institutions 2011–12 48
2.4 Category Wise Enrolment of Students in Various Types of
2.5 Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) Year Wise Details (per thousand) 50
2.6 Master of Philosophy (MPhil) Year Wise Details (per thousand) 50
2.7 Master of Arts (MA), Year Wise Details (per thousand) 51
2.8 Master of Science, (MSc) Year Wise Details (per thousand) 52
2.9 Master of Commerce, (MCom) Year Wise Details (per thousand) 52
2.10 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2011–12 54
2.11 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2018–19 56
2.12 Category Wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of
2.13 Category Wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of
3.1 Discriminatory Attitude of Teachers Towards SC Students in
Viva/Interviews 81
3.2 Reasons for Discrimination During Viva/Interviews 81
3.3 Perceptions of Other Caste Students Towards Fellowships
Availed by SC Students 84
3.4 Number of SC Applicants (RGNF/NFSC) 86
3.5 Forms of Discrimination in the Classroom/Laboratory/Research
Activities 90
3.6 Perpetrators of Discrimination in the Classroom 91
3.7 Discrimination by Teachers in the Classroom/Laboratory/
Research Activities 92
3.8 Various Forms of Discrimination by the Teachers 93
3.9 Forms of Exploitation by Research Supervisors 95
List of tables xi
3.10 Faculties’ Preferences for Supervision 97
3.11 Discrimination Faced by SC Students in the Hostels 100
3.12 Political Debates/Participation by SC Students on Campuses 102
3.13 Administrative Restrictions on SC Students’ Activities on
Campuses? 103
3.14 Surveillance on Campuses 103
3.15 Punitive Action on SC Students on Campuses 103
5.1 States with 1,000+ Students’ Suicides (2016–2018) 149
6.1 Is the SC/ST Cell Functional in your University? 173
6.2 Resolving Grievances with the Administration 174
6.3 Legal and Institutional Necessities Against Discrimination 174
6.4 Naming the Proposed Anti-Discrimination Act 175
Foreword
The Indian Constitution recognized the past injustices of untouchables and

made provisions to ensure equality and non-discrimination on its adoption in
1950, thus overturning the regulatory framework of caste system based on the
rule of graded inequality mandated by the Manusmriti. This is exemplified by
the following constitutional provisions. Article 14 states, “The State shall not
deny to any person equality before the law or equal protection of the law.” It
also prohibits discrimination on the grounds of religion, race, caste, sex or
place of birth. Article 15 of the Constitution emphasizes that “the State shall
not discriminate against any citizen on the grounds only of religion, race, sex,
place of birth.” The most important are the provisions in Article 17, which
point out that “Untouchability is abolished and its practice in any form is for-
bidden.” The practice of untouchability was made a punishable offence in
accordance with law. Further in Article 46, The Directive Principles of State
Policy points out that “The State shall promote with special care the educa-
tional and economic interests of the weaker sections and in particular, of the
Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes and shall protect them from social
injustices and all forms of exploitation.” Thus, the Constitution not only
recognized equality, but promoted equal opportunities and the principles of
non-discrimination in the public sphere, while making the observance of dis-
crimination based on untouchability an offence subject to punishment. The
State also had the responsibility to frame laws and develop policies for the
weaker sections, particularly for the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes to
overcome social injustices.
To provide legal backing to the provision of equality before laws and equal-
ity of opportunity, the State enacted the Untouchability (Offences) Act in 1955.
To make the provisions of this Act more stringent, the Act was amended in
1979 and renamed as The Protection of Civil Rights (PCR) Act, 1955. It pre-
scribed punishment for the preaching and practice of untouchability. Another
Act, namely the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atro-
cities) Act 1989, was enacted to provide legal safeguards against violence and
atrocities on these social groups. These two Acts together intend to provide
equal access to civil rights or citizenship rights to the untouchables. The legal
Foreword xiii
safeguards against caste discrimination have brought some improvement in
access to civil rights to them (Shah et al. 2010).
There persists a general feeling that the secular institutions, like educational
institutions, are relatively free from the caste discrimination, being the places of
education and learning and campuses are governed by educated people, teachers
and students. However, subsequent experience shows that educational and
similar institutions are not immune from discriminatory practices. The caste
practices exist wherever the high castes interact with the untouchables. Such
incidents in the institutions of higher learning became a national concern when
SC/ST medical students in the premier institute – AIIMS complained of caste-
based discrimination, which unfortunately led to student suicides. Under my
Chairmanship, the Report on the Discrimination in AIIMS was widely dis-
cussed. However, the faculty and the students in AIIMS did not take it ser-
iously. Gradually, this led to more studies on caste-based discrimination faced
by Dalit and Adivasi students in the academia.
The present study by Dr Sukumar, a Professor of Political Science in Delhi
University is continuation of that motivation and efforts. But Dr Sukumar’s
experience goes back to his more than a decade of experience in Hyderabad
University as a student. In 2008, Senthil Kumar committed suicide in the uni-
versity hostel. When he joined Delhi University, he argued that caste dis-
crimination is a fairly ubiquitous phenomenon in higher educational
institutions. However, the established academia questioned his integrity and
was quite dismissive about it. It is this which motivated research on the ques-
tion of caste discrimination and exclusion in spaces of modern learning. Given
the disbelief on these issues, Dr Sukumar based the research on the interviews
of 600 students, both girls and boys of the Scheduled Caste in metropolitan and
non-metropolitan cities, from five central and five state universities across the
country. The study seeks to locate discrimination in multiple spaces, class-
rooms/laboratories, hostels, common spaces for cultural activities, administra-
tion etc. to reflect on issues of caste-based exclusion and prejudices. The
narratives ‘speak’ of the journeys and struggle, which began with admission.
The research points out that caste permeates personal relationships, the dis-
persal of fellowships, and supervision of students, and functioning of various
administrative bodies. It also covers the relationship between the peer group,
SC students’ interactions with the teachers and administration. Often the lan-
guage used against the SC students is very offensive and abuses their identity.
The study also discussed the problem of Dalit student suicides. The suicides
by Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi, to name a few, created a furore and the
wider society was forced to accept the brutal reality of caste on campuses. Dr
Sukumar referred to the case of suicide of P. Raju, a student at the University of
Hyderabad. The Fact Finding Committee had reported that “The administra-
tion’s indifference to their plight and treating them as ‘routine’ issues was at the
root of suicides.” Similar patterns emerged and played out in the rustication of
Dalit students in Hyderabad Central University in 2015–2016 and the tragic
suicide of Rohith Vemula. This issue gained a national momentum.
xiv Foreword
The UGC had framed regulations in 2013 to combat such practices of caste
discrimination in educational institutions, which were never taken seriously by
the various stakeholders. This initiative was taken by the then Minister of
Human Resource Development, Shri Kapil Sibal. However, nothing much has
happened after the death of Rohit Vemula. The demand of the students was to
enact legislation similar to the anti-Ragging Act. Such an Act would have
minimised such incidents. On the contrary, Rohit Vemula was declared an OBC
to protect the university authorities and political leaders from the Atrocities
Act. The Vice-Chancellor who was responsible for the rustication of the Dalit
students and Rohith’s suicide was reinstated against the will of the protesting
students and faculty. No other steps were taken.
It is necessary that we take this issue seriously. I suggest three steps, which I
had recommended as Chairman of the Committee set up to look into the sui-
cides by Dalit students. First is to set up a committee to identify the nature and
form of discrimination in higher and school education institutions faced by
Scheduled Castes/Tribes/the Other Backward Castes students. Secondly, based
on the findings of the Committee, pass an independent Act and make the dis-
crimination in educational institutions, a criminal offence and subject to pun-
ishment. This has successfully happened in the case of Ragging. Thirdly,
introduce a course on citizenship education, which should be made compulsory
for all students to sensitize students about the problem of caste, ethnic, gender,
religious discrimination, and inequalities that persist in society, so that they
turn out to be good citizens and set an example for the next generation, which
would teach their children not to practice discrimination. This is what has been
done by the USA when it discovered racial discrimination faced by various non-
white groups including Asian students. The present research also proposes
similar measures. I congratulate him for doing this for us.
Sukhadeo Thorat
Professor Emeritus, Jawaharlal Nehru University
Former Chairman, University Grant Commission, Delhi
Acknowledgements
For a first-generation quota’s child who gate-crashed into academia, without

any roadmap, working on this subject is a task fraught with challenges. I still
recall the disbelief expressed by an august audience, including a fellow Dalit
colleague when I narrated the ambience of discrimination, which is the gesell-
schaft of many Dalit students in institutions of higher learning. This was in the
backdrop of Senthil Kumar’s institutional murder in HCU. I realized that such
incidents happened with unfailing regularity and many commissions of enquiry
were gathering dust. Prof Sukadeo Thorat and Prof Satish Deshpande encour-
aged and mentored my research ideas. It is really difficult to secure funding for
research on social exclusion and caste discrimination in institutions of higher
learning. ICSSR under the chairmanship of Prof S. K. Thorat was generous in
funding the present study in two different phases, which helped me to map this
academic apartheid. Amidst his various academic activities, Prof Thorat agreed
to pen the Foreword. I am indebted to Satish for his unconditional support in
motivating me to write, discuss and publish my ideas through different papers.
At the same time, he was also concerned about the progress of my academic
career, which might be hampered due to such a critique of academia.
The present study benefitted through the support of many individuals and
institutions. My parent organization, Department of Political Science, Delhi
University, office staff and HoDs who readily helped with the paperwork, cor-
respondence, etc. The academic discussions with colleagues and research stu-
dents helped to fine tune my ideas. I recall the deliberations with my colleague,
Prof Ujjwal Kumar Singh, who would provoke me on many occasions and
would constantly egg me on to research and publish. I acknowledge his faith
and belief in me, which made me read more and work on my ideas. I am also
indebted to Prof G. Haragopal who influenced me to reflect on issues of human
rights and social justice. Similarly, when I joined DU, Prof Manoranjan
Mohanty encouraged me to be part of research endeavours in the department,
which boosted my self-confidence.
This research was facilitated with the continuous administrative support of the
Registrar/s, Finance Section, Dean Research, DU and the Research Division of
ICSSR. Ms. Revathy Vishwanath and Dr. Madhukar took care of my research
tensions at ICSSR. The advisory committee facilitated by ICSSR, including Prof S.
xvi Acknowledgements
S. Jodhka, Prof Srinivasa Rao and Dr. Parimala helped me to strengthen the
research design. During the course of this study, I was invited to present my
research ideas at various institutions like the Indian Institute of Dalit Studies,
Council for Social Development, Delhi, and the Indian Social Institute, Delhi.
These discussions helped me in multiple ways.
The study was conducted in two phases. Many friends from various institu-
tions facilitated organizing logistics, helping to locate respondents, translation
etc. These include faculties from different universities, field investigators and
respondents also. The names have been kept anonymous so that their privacy is
protected. During the first phase of the study, Sanjeev Kumar, Sabur Ali, Sana
Salim, Namreeta and Swati Tikoo helped with the field work. Ms. Mamta
provided the office assistance. The second phase of the field work was handled
by Deepak Kumar, Jyoti Diwakar, Pankaj Kumar, Komal, and Vidyasagar.
Apart from the field assistants, Dr. Gobinda Pal and Dr. Vinod Mishra from
IIDS, Dr. Lakshmanan from MIDS, and Prof Mary John (CWDS), Dr. Shilpi
Hembrom, Central University Jharkhand, Dr. S. Sanjay Kumar (IP University)
and Dr. Y. Sreenivasalu (CESS, Hyderabad) helped with their academic inputs.
The student groups in different universities – BAPSA, YFSJ, SFI, AISA, ASA,
DSU, BSA, SC/ST/OBC organizations and Pinjra Tod provided a platform to
present this work and discuss caste discrimination on campuses.
While working on this project, I got an opportunity to discuss various anti-
discrimination acts with Disha Wadekar, a lawyer with the Supreme Court,
Johanna Deeksha (journalist), which helped me to understand the legal ramifi-
cations. In addition, this later became a part of the questionnaire. I also made
use of the research conducted by NCDHR and Mr. Paul Diwakar on caste
discrimination. Dr. Ashok Kumar Mocherla from IIT Indore put me in touch
with similar researchers in other institutions abroad, which helped me to
strengthen my research ideas. Kuffir (Naren) from Round Table India encouraged
me to share my ideas on social exclusion and campus issues on his portal. Simi-
larly, the extensive coverage on these concerns by LiveWire helped in compiling
some narratives. Prof Vivek Kumar and Prof Ujjwal generously accepted to write
the blurbs for this work.
I am also grateful to the team at Routledge, Ms. Lubna Irfan and Ms. Brinda
Sen who were very patient with my numerous queries. The anonymous peer
reviewers also provided constructive suggestions to strengthen this work.
My father, N. Venkataswamy inspired me with his courage of convictions to
fight caste discrimination in my village. I grew up witnessing my mother’s (N.
Devakamma) struggles to access public resources, which made me question social
conventions. My brother, Sudheer and nephew Charuhaas provided continuous
support. Now, I can tell my daughter, Ishu that the manuscript is complete. She was
always curious to know why I am spending so much energy and time on completing
this work. I thank Ishu and our pet, Brownie, for providing much needed solace
amidst the tensions of preparing the manuscript. My partner, Shailaja, prodded and
cajoled me in equal measure to wind up this work. Her academic support is
instrumental in the manuscript taking its final shape. Thanks are also due to
Acknowledgements xvii
Hemasundar for his technical support in keeping my digital devices in working
condition. Ms. Manju was always ready with a cup of tea to motivate me to work
without any breaks.
The cover image was provided by Munna Sannaki (Member, Justice for Rohith
Vemula). The installation was made by Eklayya Sculpture Art in solidarity with
the protests of January 2016. Rajendra Mardolkar, Sandeep Babu, Anup Naik,
Dibakar Saha and others of the 2014–2016 batch of the Department of Sculpture,
UoH created this installation.
Abbreviations
ABVP Akhil Bhartiya Vidyarthi Parishad

AIIMS All India Institute of Medical Sciences
AISHE All India Survey of Higher Education
AMU Aligarh Muslim University
APPSC Ambedkar Periyar Phule Study Circle
ASA Ambedkar Students Association
ATM Automated Teller Machine
AUD Ambedkar University Delhi
BAPSA Birsa Ambedkar Phule Student Association
BHU Banaras Hindu University
BITS Birla Institute of Technology and Sciences
BSRF Basic Scientific Research Fellowship
BTech Bachelor of Technology
CAT Common Admission Test
CHS Centre for Historical Studies
CJI Chief Justice of India
CLAT Common Law Entrance Test
CSIR Council for Scientific and Industrial Research
DFID Department of International Development
DRC Department Research Committee
DSU Dalit Students Union
DSU Dean Students Welfare
DU Delhi University
EC Executive Council
EFLU English and Foreign Languages University
EPW Economic and Political Weekly
EWS Economically Weaker Sections
FAIIMS Faculty Association of Indian Institute of Medical Sciences
FB Facebook
FIR First Information Report
GEM General Engineer Male
GITAM Gandhi Institute of Technology and Management
GNR Gross Enrolment Ratio
Abbreviations xix
GRE Graduate Aptitude Test in Engineering
HCU Hyderabad Central University
HEI Higher Educational Institutions
HOD Head of the Department
HRA House Rent Allowance
ICSSR Indian Council for Social Science Research
IIC India International Centre
IIM Indian Institute of Management
IISc Indian Institute of Sciences
IIT Indian Institute of Technology
IITB Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay
IPA Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis
IPC Indian Penal Code
IT Information Technology
JNU Jawaharlal Nehru University
JNV Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalaya
JRF Junior Research Fellowship
LHMC Lady Hardinge Medical College
LNJP Lok Nayak Jay Prakash Narayan Hospital
MCom Master of Commerce
MPhil Master of Philosophy
MA Master of Arts
MAMC Maulana Azad Medical College
MBBS Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery
MHRD Ministry of Human Resource Development
MSc Master of Sciences
NA Not Available
NAAC National Assessment and Accreditation Council
NALSAR National Academy of Legal Studies and Research
NCDHR National Campaign for Dalit Human Rights
NCERT National Council of Educational Research and Training
NCRB National Crime Records Bureau
NEET National Eligibility cum Entrance Test
NEP New Education Policy
NET National Eligibility Test
NFSC National Fellowship for Scheduled Caste
NIFT National Institute of Fashion Technology
NSSO National Sample Survey Organisation
NZCER New Zealand Council for Educational Research
OBCs Other Backward Class
PG Post Graduation
PhD Doctorate in Philosophy
PMS Post Matric Scholarship
PwD Persons with Disability
RGNF Rajiv Gandhi National Fellowship
xx Abbreviations
RSS Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh
RTI Right to Information
SC/ST Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe
SCP Strategic Community Partners
SEBC Socially and Economically Backward Classes
SFI Students Federation of India
SRF Senior Research Fellowship
STEM Science Technology Engineering and Medicine
TISS Tata Institute of Social sciences
TSP Talent Support Programme
UCMS University College of Medical Sciences
UGC University Grants Commission
UoH University of Hyderabad
UPSC Union Public Service Commission
URL Uniform Resource Locator
VMMC Vardhman Mahavir Medical College
1 Caste and the Academia
Introduction
O learned pandits wind up the selfish prattle of your hollow wisdom and listen to
what I have to say.
(Mukta Salve, About the Grief of Mahar and Mangs, 1855)1
The ancient world considered land as the paramount resource and wars were
waged to capture more territories. For the industrialized societies, capital was the
source of sustenance but in the modern era, privilege and power based on knowl-
edge is the magic mantra, the currency of socio-economic relations. As Churchill
once observed, “The empires of the future are going to be the empires of the
mind”.2 Ernest Gellner further emphasized the point that at the base of the modern
social order stands not the executioner but the professor.3 The monopoly of legit-
imate education that is the monopoly of legitimate violence is now central to the
process of the integration and reproduction of the social order.
Indian society considered knowledge production and its dissemination an
exclusive privilege. What constitutes knowledge, its philosophy, its relationship
to one’s lived experiences etc. was not available to the masses. The prevalent
hierarchies were sought to be reinforced. However, in the last couple of dec-
ades, the walls of academia were breached by the lower castes and women, and
the dominant paradigms of knowledge production began to be challenged. This
affected the popular pedagogy, which needed to accommodate newer ideas and
questions, in the process overturning myths and legends used to justify the
socio-cultural oppression and the dehumanization of the people.
As argued by Berger and Luckmann,4 knowledge is a social construction of
reality; belief systems and ideas are products of the existing social order. Thus,
knowledge and reality existed in a dialectical and reciprocal relationship of
mutual construction. It is through social interaction that knowledge is con-
structed. This is amply illustrated when Brahmanical knowledge is dissected to
understand its secret injunctions, including the various scripturally sanctioned
threats to women and Shudras, excluding them from the realm of knowledge.
The first salvo against the socially dominant power-knowledge nexus was fired
by the Buddha who deconstructed the intellectual tradition of Brahmanism. Since
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-1
then, there have been numerous challenges to the entrenched social privileges in the
form of caste at various junctures of Indian history. The foundation for a critical
engagement with social traditions and its humanitarian values were laid by differ-
ent philosophers like Jyotiba Phule, B. R. Ambedkar, Pandita Ramabai, Tarabai
Shinde, Periyar Ramasamy Naicker, etc. In their writings and public meetings, they
sought to critique the prevalent knowledge system. It is only during the colonial
period that the modern educational system was established in India. Prior to
that, scriptural learning was imparted through the gurukuls but was limited to
the Brahmanical castes. Women and lower castes were denied any opportunity
of accessing education. Even in contemporary times, education is a contested
domain where people are divided on the basis of caste, class, gender and lan-
guage etc. However, it is in the last few decades that this confrontation has
gained momentum to establish a more equitable social order through universal
education.
Understanding Caste as Capital

Long ago, Aristotle measured the richness of human life by the freedom to
engage in meaningful activity. He believed that the lack of liberty to act in self-
chosen ways impoverished life. More recently, Amartya Sen has argued that
being excluded from social relations limits our life opportunities, thus produ-
cing not only capability deprivation but also diverse capability failures. Educa-
tion is one of the chief means to multiply one’s prospects in life, to access what
Bourdieu calls both cultural and social capital.
Cultural capital refers to those nonmaterial resources which may be passed
on from generation to generation in order to preserve power and privilege. It
may include nonmaterial goods, such as “educational credentials, types of
knowledge and expertise, verbal skills, and aesthetic preferences”.5 In his essay,
The Forms of Capital, Bourdieu created three categories of cultural capital.
They are cultural capital in the embodied state, in the objectified state, and in
the institutionalized state.6 Cultural capital in the embodied state is what is
commonly understood as “culture” or “cultivation”.7 It is what Bourdieu
argued as “the long lasting dispositions of the mind and body”.8 It includes
knowledge and expertise, accents and pronunciations, tastes and preferences,
values and moralities specific to a particular social group and even includes
bodily dispositions such as posture and gait. Critically, cultural capital in the
embodied state is acquired and transmitted and this process of acquiring
depends on “the period, the society and the social class” in which the individual
is placed.9 This acquisition of cultural capital is usually unconscious and with-
out deliberate effort. More importantly, such achievement of cultural capital
allows one to identify and associate an individual with a community, as such
cultural capital is characterized by the “more or less visible marks they leave”.10
This acquisition of cultural capital is transmitted through the cost of time spent
acquiring it, and through processes such as socialization in institutions like the
family and school.
Caste and the Academia 3
Cultural capital in the institutionalized state, relates largely to the educa-
tional credentials that educational institutions confer upon an individual. This
means that access to elite educational institutions creates an exclusive club,
which confers dominance and privileges – for example, the Oxbridge elite in
India. The educational credentials are really a guarantee from the institution
that the bearer of such a credential possesses a certain cultural capital.11 Hence
cultural capital in the institutionalized state, in the form of an educational cre-
dential, is “a certificate which confers on its holder a value with respect to
culture”.12
In a caste-based society, which prevails in India, socio-cultural capital
attains significance when one considers that students are slotted into cate-
gories of ‘weak’ and ‘good’ based on both a normative and normalizing
judgment of the institution or through the value judgments of the upper
caste teacher/students. However, both are dependent on the social and cul-
tural capital that is sourced largely from the social location of the indivi-
dual, thereby affecting her/his performance and ability to interact with the
peer group and institution in general. The theory of cultural reproduction
through education argues that institutions, far from being ideologically
neutral, are the spaces which ensure the reproduction of the inequalities in
the society in terms of its cultural, economic and political systems. Althusser
provided one of the earliest arguments about education and social repro-
duction with his concept of “Ideological State Apparatus”, through which he
argued that the school acts as an agency of class domination, which inculcates
values among people preparing them for their dominated and dominant
position in the society.13
Bourdieu and Passeron, taking the argument further in their Reproduction in
Education, Society and Culture, proposed a model of the social mediations and
processes, which tend, behind the backs of the agents engaged in the school
system – teachers, students and their parents – and often against their will, to
ensure the transmission of cultural capital across generations and to stamp pre-
existing differences in inherited cultural capital.14 They argued that through
this, schools produce and reproduce power structures in the society, both
within the institutional framework (internally) through exams, merit and cre-
dentials, as well as its interaction with the class structure (externally). This
ensures that the students with a habitus which goes along with the requirements
of the educational institutions, that is the students who have the “same type of
cultural capital that is enshrined in the educational institutions” are the ones
who become successful in it.15 Further, Bourdieu stressed that merit and edu-
cational credentials are the instruments through which reproduction in schools
is happening. He argues that merit is for those who have cultural capital. Fur-
ther, this merit gives those people who already have the cultural capital, the
credentials or in other words the legitimacy to acquire and use it. Hence,
reproduction in the cultural capital takes place through the system of merit.16
He takes his argument further saying that the educational titles, which on the
face of it give emphasis to the achieved status of the individual, are actually
different manifestations of the individual’s ascribed status in the society. He
goes on to state that “educational titles and credentials fulfil, in a different his-
torical context, a social function quite analogous to that which befell nobility
titles in feudal society”. That is, these institutions hide under the claims of
equality of opportunity for all and the curtains of scientificity and rationality of
the merit and credentials, “a systematic bias in favour of possessors of inherited
cultural capital [and economic capital]”.17 Therefore, as Walter Nash pointed
out, the autonomy of the education system is its success in maintaining the
social relationships under the veil of its official neutrality, equality, and projected
non-alliance with any class structure.18
In addition to what Bourdieu points out, one may also like to include the
other social dimensions, such as gender and race, which influence social capital
over a longer period of time. In his essay on social reproduction in schools,
Collins provided an overview of the different studies that have been done on the
social reproduction through schooling, and identifies three types of social
reproductions that take place through education-economic, cultural, and lin-
guistic.19 In the Indian context, therefore, one can always think of caste or
other social identities, vernacular medium of education and urban/rural location
proving to be major determinants of dominant social reproduction in the
university spaces.
Hands versus Brains: Educational Apartheid in India

For centuries, the hierarchically structured Indian society denied access to
knowledge to the lower castes and women, thereby safeguarding the privilege of
certain socially dominant castes. This social exclusion was reinforced through
custom and law, and the dismantling of such an edifice of social apartheid was
not an easy task. The colonial rule inadvertently created spaces for the mar-
ginalized communities to access educational opportunities. The missionaries
had a commendable role to play in this process. It is possible to locate the
emergence of the idea of ‘merit’ when the untouchable castes and women
sought to gain education and the socially dominant communities worked to
preserve their interests. It became essential for the latter to qualify and associate
merit as particular socio-cultural values embedded within a specific community,
which is legitimized through academic institutions. Thus, there occurred a gra-
dual transformation of ‘privilege’ into merit, or as Satish Deshpande points out,
the conversion of caste capital into modern capital,20 and nowhere is this more
seamlessly embedded than in our modern temples of learning. He points out
that the story of how upper castes transform “their caste capital into modern
capital” is not well known because “it runs with the grain of the dominant
common sense”. When it is seen and heard, it is in other guises: “It appears to
be a story about something other than caste, like the story of nation-building
for example, or the story of a great and ancient tradition modernizing itself”.
By contrast, the political encashment of caste by lower castes is a recurrent,
publicly debated theme. The result of this asymmetry, Deshpande maintains, is
that upper castes are naturalized as the “legitimate inheritors of modernity”
while lower castes are hyper-visible as the illegitimate purveyors of caste.21
André Béteille argued that caste has gradually withered away in urbane
locales and is only ‘visible’ in its political manifestation. The compulsions of
occupation operate rather differently in the different sectors of the Indian
economy. Among engineers, doctors, scientists, civil servants and managers, the
obligations to one’s occupation exist independently of the obligation to one’s
caste and to some extent displaces it. Until the nineteenth century, Hindu
intellectuals could argue with force and conviction about the significance and
value of caste. Their counterparts today, who are still mainly of upper caste,
have lost the capacity not only to explain and justify caste, but even to describe
it coherently.22 He goes on to state that it is only the policy of reservations that
is keeping caste alive in present times. Caste has ceased to play an active role in
the reproduction of inequality, at least at the upper levels of the social hierarchy
where it is no longer an important agent of either social placement or social
control. The recent attack on caste by egalitarians of both radical and liberal
persuasions is misdirected even where it appears well-meaning. Caste should be
attacked for its divisive role in electoral politics rather than its active role in the
reproduction of inequality, which is relatively small and clearly declining. The
role of caste in politics is neither small nor declining. Caste is no longer an
institution of any great strength among the influential urban intelligentsia; but
it is an instrument of great force in mobilizing political support in the country
as a whole. Equality, at least at the higher levels of society, can no longer be
significantly advanced by attacking caste.23
Even if Béteille’s arguments are accepted at face value, what explains the
backlash against the Mandal Commission Report and the increasing exclusivity
of academic spaces in the name of ‘merit’? While discussing universities as
institutions, especially in the context of Delhi University, Béteille makes a case
for the former to provide meaning and legitimacy for its individual members.24
He highlights different aspects of university life – academic leadership and
standards, gender and social relations, politicized campuses etc. but there are
scanty references to caste. The surprising omission, in an article published in
1995, is the lack of any engagement with the Mandal politics, especially since
Delhi University was the epicentre of the anti-Mandal agitations. Within the
educational domain, the correlation between the ‘general category’ and caste-
lessness assumes an additional charge when you consider the alternate term for
the ‘general category’, ‘merit-based’ admissions. The semantic equivalence
between the general, the casteless, and the meritorious reinforces the idea that
those who fall within the general category do so, not on the basis of accumu-
lated caste privilege, but by dint of their own merit. By definition, then, those
who fall within the “reserved category” do so by virtue of their caste. This cate-
gorical distinction between the meritorious/casteless and the reserved/caste-based
has profoundly shaped the debate around educational equality in India.25 The
general category can take recourse to what Bourdieu calls an “imaginary universe
of perfect competition or perfect equality of opportunity, a world without inertia,
without accumulation, without heredity or acquired properties”26 to argue that it
is the system of reservations, and not historical caste privilege that produces
inequality and undermines the modern republican ideal of equal citizenship.
In the process, upper castes evacuate caste markers and inhabit the “mer-
itocratic norm” while lower castes become “hyper-visible” as castes whose
very presence and relationship to the state are signs of India’s incomplete
democracy.27
The narratives from the field provide credence to the embodiment of caste in
academia not through the Scheduled Caste (SC), Scheduled Tribe (ST), Other
Backward Caste (OBCs) students, faculty or administrative staff but as reflected
in the most elite of India’s educational institutions, the IITs. “We thought it
was beneath us to do something as dull as put together a piece of machinery”,
one told me,
That was for people in other engineering colleges. We had a greater

emphasis on math and physics, a lot of problem solving on paper … you
do modelling, you think about writing formulas, equations, and less about
doing something with your hands. Because we always thought that we
should use our brains, not our hands. That was the mindset we had … it
wasn’t explicit, but it was understood. No one was going to say that but it
was understood if you came through the system, took the exam. God gave
you your brains so you should use them. Hands are for other people who
don’t have brains.28
For Ajantha Subramanian, such attitudes of IIT-ians echo both the colonial
state’s caste sociology and the Hindu textual correlation between caste
duties (Varna Dharma)29 and parts of the body. Interestingly, her study also
reflects the internal hierarchies of this ‘meritocracy’. The sole focus is on
information technology rather than civil and mechanical engineering. The
latter is left for ordinary engineering colleges. The IIT-ian’s perceived capa-
city for abstract thought that makes him least suited for the shop floor, and
perhaps even for the engineering profession more generally, is what corpo-
rate recruiters she interviewed identified most readily as their (IIT-ians’)
unique virtue and what makes them best suited for the knowledge industry.
Recruiters and the news media in the United States resort to broad-brush
racial typologies in characterizing IIT-ians’ intellectual capacity with refer-
ence to India’s “long tradition of conceptual mathematics” or Indians’
“knack for numbers”. Private sector employers trade quite blatantly in
assumptions about relative skills and knowledge when distinguishing gradu-
ates of different institutions. When she interviewed corporate recruiters from
the software industry in Chennai, they typically distinguished the Madras
IIT-ian from other regional engineering graduates by their unsuitability for
the industrial workplace. A few even pointedly opined that “Tam Brahms”
were especially well-suited for the upper echelons of Information Technology
work.30 The merit conundrum also exists because the popular assumption is
that the university is the site of knowledge production. As Kancha Ilaiah
points out,
When I talk about our illiterate parents I am not even for a moment sug-
gesting they are unskilled people … For example, my mother was an expert
wool thread maker, she was an expert seedler; she was an expert planter.
My father was an expert sheep breeder. Each caste group acquired lot of
skills in its own sphere … Many of our farmers have scientific skills. They
know when it will rain. They can tell us what natural signals would bring
forth certain climatic changes. They know where a bridge should be built.31
The university system is deficient in what Visvanathan called the fraternal

ecology of knowledges.32
The British sought to model the educational apparatus based on the tradi-
tional scheme of learning. The focus was on the elites of the various commu-
nities. The British Commissioner of the Deccan, Mr. Chaplin established the
Poona Sanskrit College, later known as the Deccan College in 1821, exclusively
for the benefit of Brahmins. It was supported by a fund known as the Dakshina
Fund, being a collection of pensions and allowances previously paid by the
Maratha State to Brahmins and subsequently devoted by the British Govern-
ment to encourage learning among the Brahmins.33 The chief objective of the
college was to “preserve the attachment of learned Brahmins” who, according
to the British “severely suffered by the change in the government”. More
importantly, such encouragement was important as the British realized that
Brahmins had “considerable influence over the feelings and conduct of people at
large”.34 One can locate the gradual institutionalization and legitimization of
the idea of ‘merit’ in modern times. It was during the colonial period that uni-
versity education was gradually established. In 1857, the three modern uni-
versities – Calcutta, Bombay and Madras were set up by the colonial state. As
André Béteille has written, these universities “opened new horizons both intel-
lectually and institutionally in a society that had stood still in a conservative
and hierarchical mould for centuries”. These universities were “among the first
open and secular institutions in a society that was governed largely by the rules
of kinship, caste and religion”. Thus “the age-old restrictions of gender and
caste did not disappear in the universities, but they came to be questioned
there”.35 The needs and prejudices of the colonial power determined the basic
structure, shape and ethos of the Indian higher education system.36 Many edu-
cated Indians also strived to invest in education which would synthesize Indian
and Western values: to illustrate, Tagore’s Shantiniketan, Gandhian models of
Gujarat and Kashi Vidyapiths, Jamia Millia Islamia, Aligarh Muslim Uni-
versity, Banaras Hindu University etc. However, these institutions functioned as
isolated enclaves of the socially dominant communities.
There were debates on who deserves to be educated, what kind of education
is required, the appropriate schooling for girls, which reflected the underlying
chasm in society. There were few takers for a universal approach to education
as this would upset the power-knowledge balance in society. Many socio-political
luminaries preferred the trickle-down approach or the downward filtration theory.
The Woods Dispatch of 1854 advocating mass education was vehemently opposed
by Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar and Surendranath Bannerjee.
An impression appears to have gained ground, both here and in England,

that enough has been done for the education of the higher classes and that
attention should now be directed towards the education of the masses. An
enquiry into the matter will, however, show a very different state of things.
As the best, if not the only practicable means of promoting education in
Bengal, the Government should, in my humble opinion, confine itself to the
education of the higher classes on a comprehensive scale.37
Vidyasagar categorically advocated for confining education to ‘higher classes’

(both men and women). In the same essay, A. K. Biswas points out that a
wealthy man from the goldsmith community was denied admission in Sanskrit
College by Vidyasagar due to the ‘low-caste’ status of goldsmiths and in the
interest of the ‘upper-castes’ attending the college. Thus, the idea of a ‘learning
community’ was effectively narrow and did not include the majority.38 In a
similar vein, M. G. Ranade opined that the educated classes were “the brains
and the destined leaders of the people. Only they possessed qualities like intel-
ligence, wealth, unity and initiative while the masses were ‘unlettered, impro-
vident, ignorant, disunited, thriftless and poor in means’. Further, this elite
group was composed of Brahmins, Banias and Zamindars”.39 On the contrary,
Phule argued that the colonial government should spend for educating the
masses and there would be no difficulty in training up a body of men in every
way qualified and perhaps far better in morals and manners.40 Ambedkar has
written very eloquently about his efforts at gaining education amidst the Hindu
orthodoxy.
Radical social thinkers like Jyotiba Phule and Savitribai Phule, Iyothee Thass
to Periyar and Ambedkar argued and worked tirelessly to empower the down-
trodden groups. They made use of every avenue to press for educational
opportunities for the excluded groups. While representing the cause of the
Scheduled Castes before the Simon Commission, Ambedkar demanded special
provisions for education. Based on this, the Hunter Commission recommended
compulsory primary education for the deprived communities. During the anti-
colonial struggle, Rabindranath Tagore and M. K. Gandhi, too, identified the
fundamental cause of many of India’s social and economic afflictions as being
rooted in the lack of education. In Tagore’s view, the imposing tower of misery
which rests on the heart of India has it sole origin in the absence of education.41
In continuation of the emancipatory tradition, the Constitution of indepen-
dent India created an egalitarian roadmap for the country, emphasizing the
values of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, and Justice. Ambedkar consistently
argued for a uniform national education policy to ensure quality education for
all. However, education became a state subject with every state pursuing its
own agendas and policies on education. Further, the Directive Principles of
State Policy highlights that every child is provided with free and compulsory
education till the age of fourteen years. However, such progressive measures are
sought to be scuttled by the lack of socio-political will and administrative
inefficiency.
There were intense debates on the nature of education. The Radhakrishnan
Committee on University Education observed in 1949 that the most important
and urgent reform needed in education is to make it freely accessible and
inclusive, to endeavour to relate it to the life, needs, and aspirations of the
people and thereby make it a powerful instrument of social, economic, and
cultural transformation necessary for the realization of national goals.42 For
this purpose, education should be developed so as to increase productivity,
achieve social and national integration, accelerate the process of modernization,
and help cultivate social, moral and spiritual values within the society and
among the individuals.
As pointed out by Maulana Azad,
Every individual has a right to an education that will develop his faculties
and enable him to lead a full life. Such education is the birthright of every
citizen. A state cannot claim to have discharged its duty till it has provided
for every single individual the means for the acquisition of knowledge and
self-betterment.43
Hence, poverty cannot be equated with simply the lack of economic resources
but access to opportunities to lead a meaningful and dignified life. Aristotle
linked the richness of human life by first ascertaining the function of man and
then exploring life in the sense of activity. He observed an impoverished life to
be one without the freedom to undertake important activities that a person
would choose.44 Being excluded from social relations can limit our living
opportunities. Social exclusion can, thus, be constitutively a part of capability
deprivation as well as instrumentally a cause of diverse capability failures.45
One form of the dispossession from social interaction is the inability to appear
in public freely and participate in the life of the community. It is a loss on its
own, in addition to whatever further deprivation it may indirectly generate both
actively and passively. As pointed out by Hillary Silver, exclusion occurs also as
a consequence of the formation of group monopolies. Powerful groups, often
displaying distinctive cultural identities and institutions, restrict access by out-
siders to valued resources through a process of ‘social closure’.46 The dominant
castes in India assert their ritual superiority to marginalize the lower castes
from accessing opportunities for upward socio-economic mobility. Among the
multiplicity of exclusions, what is relevant for us is the sharing of social
opportunities. It was precisely the lack of social opportunities, sanctioned by
law and custom, which pushed vast sections of Indians to live a life of penury;
denial of both cultural and social capital. In order to bridge the gap, affirmative
action was made constitutionally mandatory, so as to enable the deprived
communities to access education, which is essential for upward social mobility
and leading a dignified life.
A university is imagined to be a democratic space which moulds students
into politically vibrant citizens. These ‘meritorious’ institutions of higher
learning are supposed to perpetuate a legacy of humanism. Increasingly,
universities have become sites of social exclusion, where SC (Scheduled
Caste) students are denied a share in the cultural and social capital of
society and are expected to bear this denial silently.47 Caste determines the
field of education in India. Students who belong to the lower structure of
caste experience discrimination based on caste in their day-to-day academic
as well as non-academic life.48 These are the indicators of caste in educa-
tional institutions i.e., language and vocabulary, accent and expression,
communication and social skills and mannerism, names and surnames,
locality and residence, dress and looks, body language etc., which are
reflected through peer groups, teacher-student relations, and gendered iden-
tities. Social discrimination or exclusion leads to deprivation, mental block,
humiliation, identity crisis, inferiority complex, communication gap, pre-
judice, escapism, suspicion, isolation, and crisis/conflict etc. and in many
cases result in dropouts and suicides. Hence, the university becomes a min-
iaturized embodiment of the dualisms of a society, a creative machine for
the playing out of its tensions. The gauntlet of oppositions ranges from
excellence versus relevance, assimilation versus diversity, town versus country,
elitism versus equality, individual versus community, freedom versus social
responsibility.49
Debating Exclusion in Higher Education

Since the 1970s, the issue of equity50 and education has been researched by
various scholars. One of the earliest articles, “Education for Equality: Case of
Scheduled Castes in Higher Education”51 discussed the role of the Post-Matric
Fellowship Scheme, which has enabled more SC students to access higher edu-
cation. The study has empirical data in the context of Maharashtra. It also
highlighted the fact that SC students opt more for arts courses and raised con-
cerns about the high dropout in professional courses, due to discrimination in
grading. The research also raised a concern as to whether the academic quality
would be compromised if SC students secure admission by relaxing the marks.
While responding to the latter question, Kusum Premi52 argued that more
awareness is required about the range of schemes so that the community can
utilize the various concessions. To ensure academic rigour, pre-admission
coaching can be provided to SC students in professional courses. The primary
question she asked the respondents was, “Would it have been possible for you
to study without the special facilities at primary and high school levels and also
college stage?” Out of 195 respondents, 154 agreed that special facilities are
essential for them to access college education. She also dealt with issues of
administrative bottlenecks where SC students are concerned.
53
Viney Kirpal in her brief case study of SC/ST (Scheduled Tribe) students
at IIT Bombay focused on the fallacies that caste Hindus harbour about SC/
ST students as they gain admission through special provisions. She dwelt on
their language skills, socio-economic, psychological, and academic problems
once they join the institution. The special preparatory courses offered as a
coping mechanism to these students are also mentioned. However, in the
long run, such measures have ended up ghettoizing students from the mar-
ginalized groups as those who opt for the special courses are ridiculed as
‘preppies’.54 After almost two decades, institutions like IITs still remain out
of reach for SC students, as many of these students do not have access to
quality schooling. In the long run, this also affects their employment pro-
spects. This issue was also flagged in the Bhopal Declaration 2002.55 This
reflects that the issue of ‘merit’ is a festering sore in institutions of higher
learning. Despite numerous suicides by SC/ST students, these issues hardly
qualify as research interests, apart from government reports which gather
dust.
Hence, one can argue that there is a need to problematize the interactions
between caste, gender, language, poverty, higher education and discrimination.
The social inequalities, which are the hallmark of the caste system, also play
out in the knowledge economy. The socially dominant groups controlled the
intellectual resources and the lower castes were scripturally prohibited from
accessing these under threat of coercion. Subverting the system of educational
apartheid is a long-drawn-out process which is hampered by the working of the
caste hierarchy. However, scholars did debate on the university system, the role
of education for social wellbeing, equity and access to education, the policy of
reservation, and the responsibility of state institutions in facilitating education
for the Scheduled Castes and Tribes. Various studies have focused on educa-
tional policies and the extent to which SC/ST students have actually benefited
from positive discrimination.
Indiresan and Ghatak put the spotlight on the social embeddedness of
education in India. Education itself can be viewed as a system, a self-
adjusting combination of interacting people and things designed to accom-
plish certain predetermined goals. It has its redundant subsystems of
administration, examination and admission, geared to facilitate the most
important subsystem of learning. At the same time, education is a sub-
system of the supra-system – society as a whole – from which it receives its
input in terms of students, teachers, materials and ideologies. The output of
this subsystem in terms of people possessing certain skills, attitudes and
values are fed back to the supra-system, that is, the society. They quote
earlier studies from the 1960s and 1970s, which report that a majority of
the SC/ST students are first-generation educated, largely coming from poor
and illiterate homes, and that their educational and occupational aspira-
tions are high, though their achievement level is low. These studies point
out to the high dropout rates due to economic restraints and students’ poor
academic performance.56
A few scholars have sought to focus on the idea of equity and education by
interrogating the structure of primary education in India. In a study on access
to primary education based on gender, minorities, SC/STs in contemporary
India, Padma Velaskar57 and Karuna Chanana58 focused on the growth of
higher education within the framework of preferential treatment and supportive
measures for the benefit of different social groups. The study also reviewed the
educational policy discourse which assigns several functions to higher educa-
tion. Some of these are: equity for the Scheduled Castes and Tribes; main-
streaming the minorities; and equality for women. It demonstrates that the
educational policy fails to integrate these functions at the conceptual level.
Further, in the multi-cultural and multi-ethnic Indian society, the parameters of
gender, caste, class, language and region are crucial in determining access to
higher education. Again, gender becomes the all-inclusive negative parameter
conferring cumulative and competing disadvantages on women. Lastly, the
educational policies and programmes are unable to encompass the complex
social reality within a single framework and are, therefore, unable to bridge the
gap between policy and practice. Velaskar also stressed the imposition of the
‘dominant’ culture’s curriculum as inherently superior and valuable as com-
pared to the culture of the subordinated groups. The domain of knowledge is
also gendered and the myth of female ineptitude is perpetuated. Mental labour
is glorified while manual labour is disqualified. However, she also makes a very
prejudiced comment, not based on any factual data that “… it is clear that the
[reservations] policy is steadily serving as a channel of access to mediocre per-
formers of the relatively privileged sections of the Dalit population”.59 Simi-
larly, while discussing the issue of exclusion of SC children at the level of
schooling, Robert Jenkins and Eimar Barr60 argue for a comprehensive policy
response, which should address the various barriers to accessing education by
these disadvantaged groups. Furthermore, the structural causes of social exclu-
sion, such as continued high level of poverty of scheduled caste children, also
remain a significant constraint. Hence, what is required is a holistic approach,
which would target the structural and basic causes of the problem in a context-
specific, comprehensive manner. The above discussed research provided ade-
quate data from various sources like the census reports, National Sample
Survey Office (NSSO) data, National Family Health Survey (NFHS) and the
Reproductive Child Health Survey (RCHS). In an empirical study in the context
of SCs of Andhra Pradesh, Uma Ramaswamy focused on the gains made by the
community due to enabling features like reservations, fellowships, supply of
books and uniforms etc. She opines that the underprivileged should educate
themselves for secular employment and move away from stigmatized traditional
occupations as well as low paid agricultural labour where the bulk of them are
employed.61 She has also included detailed case narratives of a few respondents
which substantiates the data. A recent empirical study by G. Nagaraju and Ch.
Krishnarao explores the relationship between the socio-economic and cultural
background of the students in selected schools in Andhra Pradesh, to map their
educational aspirations and analyse the discriminatory practices experienced by
62
these children. Interestingly, Uma Ramaswamy’s research also focused on the
sub-caste issues among the SC communities.63 The present study also details
similar observations by the respondents.
André Béteille, in a series of articles, ruminates on Indian universities, the
problems plaguing them and the idea of equal access to education, the linkages
between education and employment, how social stratification is reflected in the
universities in terms of gender and caste, and the issue of merit versus pre-
judices. The universities are also not ‘free’ from political interventions in terms
of pedagogy, reservations and faculty recruitments. In such a scenario, it’s dif-
ficult to strike a balance between upholding high academic standards and the
pursuit of equality.64 In a collection of essays,65 Béteille takes recourse to pop-
ular lexicography regarding ‘caste prejudices’ and ‘quotas’ rather than inter-
rogating the structural realities of caste. The emphasis is on individualized
experiences of caste.
Social prejudice based on gender, race, religion, ethnicity, or caste exists in

one form or another in most if not all societies. There is at best a difference
of degree between India and other countries. It is difficult to agree that the
very limited presence of the backward castes in the best university institu-
tions is due solely to the social bias against them. Why has the bias against
them remained unchanged or, as some say, even increased when the bias
against women in those very institutions has declined significantly?66
But the category ‘women’, Béteille used to justify his argument are not
marked in terms of their caste. He goes on to make a very reductionist argu-
ment, “Where they [caste quotas] have been used on a massive scale, they have
contributed to a better mix of castes and communities, but they have also con-
tributed to a steady decline in academic standards”.67 In a similar vein, Rama-
chandra Guha points out that the quality of teaching and research in Indian
universities has rapidly declined. Surely this has something to do with the
manner in which we appoint those at their helm. Universities do need to be
representative institutions. However, it is at the level of the student body that
representativeness matters most.68
A study was conducted to explore the opinions of university students
towards the reservation policy by Sunita Reddy Bharati.69 The sample of the
study comprised 400 students from Hyderabad University and Osmania Uni-
versity. She concluded that for the anti-reservationists, reservation policies are
antithetical to the constitutional ideal of equality of opportunity. Further, it
implies that individual merit is ignored under the garb of social justice, which
results in injustice to the meritorious. On the other hand, the pro-reserva-
tionists argue that merit is a cultural construct, and the scope and time frame of
reservations need to be extended. They considered reservations as a matter of
right.
In June 2006, the Economic and Political Weekly came out with a special
issue on Higher Education in India in which eminent scholars from myriad
disciplines discussed caste and reservations, higher education and equity etc.
Jayati Ghosh70 argued that social and economic disparities are deeply inter-
twined in India, in increasingly complex ways. Reservations for different groups
in higher education are essential, not because they are the perfect instruments to
rectify long-standing discrimination, but because they are the most workable
method to move in this direction. The nature of Indian society ensures that
without such measures, social discrimination and exclusion will only persist
and be strengthened. Satish Deshpande71 described a framework of “exclusive
inequalities” while discussing the continuation of caste inequalities in higher
education. The idea of merit and the modalities of the examination are eval-
uated in terms of their contribution to the legitimation of higher education. He
argued that the notion of “exclusive inequalities” provides a comparable heur-
istic framework for analysing similar policies in the specific context of higher
education in twenty-first-century India. The discussion commenced with the
issue of the OBC (Other Backward Castes) reservations in elite higher and
professional education. The subsequent sections outlined the reasons why the
specificities of higher education require us to think in terms of inequalities and
exclusion (rather than equalities and competition), and what implications this
has for affirmative action policies. The key ideas of ‘merit’ and ‘caste’ and their
centrality to the ideological contestations and the practical manoeuvring in
publicly funded higher and professional education today is also examined. The
debate is continued in “Redesigning Affirmative Action: Castes and Benefits in
Higher Education”,72 wherein the authors are arguing for effective policy design
while implementing affirmative action. This paper presented an illustrative
model of a feasible alternative to caste quotas. The proposed model is evidence-
based, addresses multiple sources of group and individual disadvantage (caste,
region, gender and rural/urban residence), as well as interaction effects and
degrees of disadvantage. Such an approach allows us to demonstrate that affir-
mative action is not about “appeasement” but about eliminating sources of
tangible disadvantage in our unequal society. Prabhat Patnaik73 makes a case
for providing equal opportunities for all and the need to go beyond an affir-
mative action system. He indicates that income can be considered as the domi-
nant factor to resolve the vexed issue of social justice. This is very contentious
as, in a deeply hierarchical society, income alone cannot be the sole criterion as
other social and cultural indicators can lead to exclusion even in educational
institutions.
In my own earlier work, I74 have adopted an autoethnographic perspective,
focusing on the life worlds of the SC students in the Hyderabad University
campus, their classroom interactions, peer prejudices, exclusion in the teaching
learning process and administrative apathy, which forced students to commit
suicide in extreme cases. The article was written in the backdrop of Senthil
Kumar’s suicide in Hyderabad University and the lackadaisical approach of the
university community to engage with such a crisis. Subsequently, the Senthil
Kumar Solidarity Committee75 came out with a report which argued that his
suicide can be located at the intersection of academic malpractices, the
exclusivity of the ‘pure sciences’, the reformed untouchability practised in uni-
versity spaces and the threat to the status quo posed by reservations. Each of
these questions has to be addressed if higher education is to be enabling and not
merely accessible, for the large number of students who struggle to gain entry
into universities, only to be met with indifference, or downright hostility and
humiliation. Reservations may provide access, but as Senthil’s death reflects, the
battle for democratizing our institutions and a genuinely progress-oriented sci-
ence are of a different order altogether. Donald Kurtz’s76 study of Pune Uni-
versity illustrates the embodiment of caste in the institution’s framework. The
university, consisting of a newly founded postgraduate campus and established
city and rural colleges, opened officially in 1949. By that time each of the uni-
versity’s three institutions was identified with specific castes and their interests:
an increasingly cosmopolitan mix of castes on the postgraduate campus and a
predominance of Chitpavan Brahmans and Marathas in the city and rural col-
leges, respectively.
The last few years have witnessed increased restlessness on university cam-
puses, with education being progressively reduced to skill acquisition. Instead of
bridging social fault lines, the privatization and corresponding negligence of
public/state universities, the islands of excellence being assiduously promoted;
the techno-managerial concerns of development fail to address basic questions
of access, equity and quality in the entire process. Education is no longer con-
sidered a social and public good. In a seminal edited volume, which brings
together diverse ideas on higher education in India, J. B. G. Tilak traces the
historical evolution of education and the persistent inequity amongst gender,
social groups, rural-urban divide and between the rich and the poor. The book
contains detailed case studies, the role of the state and markets in the era of
globalization. He also discussed the role of public subsidies in education as a
means to attain equity. Various commissions on educational reforms have also
been examined and critiqued.77
Srinivas Rao utilized Erving Goffman’s perspective to analyse the success and
failures, social adjustment and maladjustment of Dalit and tribal students in
higher education, as these depend on their location within the social structure,
which identifies them as stigmatized and assigns them various labels. He argued
that not only certain castes are stigmatized but tribes are also stigmatized, the
former on the basis of purity and pollution and the latter on terms of differ-
ential access to what is called ‘civilization’ and isolation from ‘mainstream’. He
conducted fieldwork in six IITs to understand the subjective interpretations of
experience of stigma. SC/ST students who take the preparatory course often
hear comments that “your basics are weak”, or that “you cannot cope”, which
is very demoralizing for them. These courses are solely based on their caste.78
The institutional murder of Rohith Vemula at Hyderabad University on 17
January 2016 opened the floodgates into the discriminated and excluded habitus
of the SC students in eminent institutions. Reflecting on these changes, in a
special issue of the Indian International Centre Quarterly, ‘Education at the
Crossroads’,79 Apoorvanand ponders about educational institutions being
unequal spaces in themselves wherein marginalized groups scarcely feel at
home. The gradual erosion of the teachers’ autonomy is also a cause for con-
cern. He quotes Upendra Baxi,
we need to do away with the term ‘higher education’. What is high about
it? Higher education in India has arrogantly placed itself on a pedestal
much above the one on which our schools rest. And, today, they mirror the
morass and morbidity our schools have experienced for decades.
Correspondingly, Satish Deshpande80 also argued about institutions failing to

address the needs of the diverse student population and ending up by treating
them as a burden. He raises two questions: firstly, the nature and role of elite
institutions whereby institutions that are elite, in the intellectual sense, would
tend to be dominated by those that are elite in the social sense. Secondly, how
does one democratize the elite higher educational institutions while nurturing it
as a locale for the intellectual elite to flourish?
Reflecting on the lived realities of SC-Bahujan groups in the university, P.
Thirumal81 strives to exhibit the reproduction of everyday institutional embo-
diment that displays a direction and an intensity that allows dominant bodies to
realize their unfinished being. Thirumal demonstrates this process of embodi-
ment as revealed in the cultural world of the upper castes in three phases: the
domains of cellular, intellectual and social reproduction. He refers to caste-
plaining in everyday discourse. These institutions are organized like elite clubs,
which need to be barricaded against the entry of the rustic/mofussil riffraff. It
will undermine the cosmopolitan character of these institutions.
The backward as a servant, ‘subziwala’, ‘dhobi’ or cobbler is all right, but

god forbid if his children were to rub shoulders with you. Teaching agri-
cultural economics is relevant but heaven forbid if you have to teach it to
the lesser Devi Lals of the world. Populism is the fear that Delhi, cosmo-
politan Delhi, might become another Haryana. The biologist Garret
Hardin used the picture of the lifeboat to convey a basic idea in socio-
biology. Picture an ocean where a lifeboat full of rich people is floating.
Swimming around them are the poor. The question is, should one go to the
aid of the poor and backward or let them drown? Hardin argues that the
poor are irredeemable and going to their aid may sink the boat. Only our
elite does not use the language of socio-biology. We talk the language of
merit as justice assuming that life is a race without handicaps.82
In the fieldwork conducted for this study, the author often heard comments
that SCs opt for ‘food courses’ (arts and humanities) as these courses do not
require cerebral capacity.
Indian universities have been turning increasingly restless in the past few
years. The neo-liberal regime is gradually withdrawing from investment in
public institutions and education has been reduced to mere skill acquisition.
The struggle for material resources has intensified and the state is pitching one
community against another to foster loyalty towards its policies, as against a
structural overhaul of the socio-cultural apartheid, which will ensure an equi-
table distribution of resources and social justice. Reservations have been
reduced to a political strategy rather than a means for rectifying historical
injustices. Education is still considered a mysterious enclave for the socially
privileged who do not wish to welcome the marginalized communities into its
rarefied domain. However, it is essential to acknowledge the silent revolution
simmering underneath the surface calm. The first generation of the Dalit-Bahujan
students who gatecrashed into the gurukuls, have begun to critically interrogate
the structures of oppression. Hence, modern gurukuls have turned into contested
spaces wherein the traditional brahmanical authority is being challenged by the
new ‘deviant’ SC body.
The gatekeepers of academia take refuge in the idea of ‘merit’ to prevent
their hegemony from being diluted. When the University Grants Commission
(UGC) insisted on enforcing reservations even at the level of Associate Pro-
fessors and Professors, the alarm bells started ringing. The ideological differ-
ences were overridden in the concern to hold on to their socio-cultural capital
by the academic lobbies. In Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), the Executive
Council (EC) was told by a group of teachers, “Considering that this step
[implementing Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes reservations above the
level of Assistant Professors] has very serious implications for the long-term
academic development of this premier University, the EC should reconsider its
decision.” This alarmist claim was endorsed by other teachers too. In a note
submitted to the vice-chancellor of JNU, the former vice-chancellors and
emeritus professors, such as Y. K. Alagh, T. K. Oommen and Bipan Chandra,
argued,
If steps are taken which prevent it [JNU] from remaining one of the pre-
mier centres of excellence (which is what we fear will happen by limiting,
through reservation, the scope for selecting the best faculty at the Senior
Professor and Associate Professor levels) the chief victim will be the dis-
advantaged sections of Indian society. If JNU declines, the well to do will
move to foreign and private universities and the disadvantaged will no
longer be able to get world class education which JNU has been so proud
to offer them so far.83
The monopolist claim seeks to prove that the upper castes have always had the
best interests of the Dalits. Only the former can lead in knowledge production
and the latter have to simply accept their patronage.
In a perceptive study of the American education system, Michael Sandel84
deconstructs the embedded meritocracy and argues for a more humane politics
of the common good. He argues that attention should be focused on the entire
ecosystem that enables students to realize their potential and flourish. In an
unequal society, those who land on top want to believe their success is morally
justified. In a meritocratic society, this means the winners must believe they
have earned their success through their own talent and hard work. While it is
true that their admission reflects dedication and hard work, it cannot really be
said that it is solely their own doing. What about the parents and teachers who
helped them on their way? Those who by dint of effort and talent, prevail in a
competitive meritocracy are indebted in ways the competition obscures. As the
meritocracy intensifies, the striving so absorbs us that our indebtedness recedes
from view. In this way, even a fair meritocracy, one without cheating or bribery
or special privileges for the wealthy, induces a mistaken impression –that we
have made it on our own. This is corrosive of our civic sensibilities. For the
more we think of ourselves as self-made and self-sufficient, the harder it is to
learn gratitude and humility. And without these sentiments, it is hard to care
for the common good.85
If these observations are juxtaposed in the Indian context, the annual rank-
ings of elite institutions, full-page advertorials of coaching centres, professional
makeovers of resumes, helicopter parenting for excellent grades help manu-
facture the perfect Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), Indian Institute of
Management (IIM), the Indian Institute of Sciences (IISc), the Union Public
Service Commission (UPSC) aspirants. Since the 1990s, there is more emphasis
on private players in the education sector with the public institutions being
deliberately undermined. The former have access to unlimited funds to attract
the well-off students and the poor students inhabit the crumbling edifice of the
public universities. In 2018, Jio University was given the tag of ‘Institution of
Eminence’ by the state, even before the first brick was laid for the campus. Even
if a student secures a seat in these eminent institutions, he/she needs to negoti-
ate a minefield of fees, the language and its resultant cultural connotations,
usage of technical devices, etc. Ashoka University charges Rs 9,40,000 per year
to its undergraduate students, which includes tuition, room and board. India’s
per capita income in June 2019 was reported as Rs 1,26,408 by the Ministry of
Statistics and Programme Implementation. The discarded ones have to bear the
cross of being unworthy/less meritorious for such prestigious institutions.86 In
the entire circus, the worst position is of the SC/ST/OBC student who gains
entry into educational institutions after a rigorous entrance test but are forever
branded as quota’s children.
The ‘Deviant Body’ and the University

For any individual from the SC communities who entered the threshold of an
educational institution, he/she experienced an enhanced sense of awareness of
the world, an improved sense of social worth. The lack of educational oppor-
tunities crippled individual thinking thereby creating scope for subjugation.
Thus, education is a vital instrument of social and educational mobility to rea-
lize multiple freedoms. The state facilitates the initial entry through the policy
of reservations in educational institutions. Negotiating the academic gaze with
its specialized language and culture, mores and manners is a tricky enterprise
for the first-generation SC students. The suffocating ambience in the university
spaces makes them withdraw into a shell, which impacts their campus life,
academic progress and sense of self-worth, forcing many of them to drop out of
the courses. A few strive to complete their courses, withstanding various hic-
cups with peer support and mentorship by the teachers. When the idea of
‘social exclusion’ entered into academic debates as a theoretical concept around
the end of the twentieth century, it was meant to reflect the situation of those
people who no longer experience themselves as fully participating members of
society, but instead as part of a merely dispensable human mass. In contrast to
members of the underprivileged lower classes, who at least experience having a
positive social identity within a system of social inequality, these individuals
find themselves in a state of social isolation providing no positive identification
at all. Zygmunt Bauman87 coined the expression ‘wasted life’ to describe this
condition. The concept of ‘structural inequality’, which is described as a con-
dition which arises when certain groups enjoy unequal status in relation to
other groups, as a result of unequal relations in their roles, functions, rights and
opportunities. At its extreme, structural discrimination can be described as
structural violence. This is a concept which it has been argued makes visible
‘the social machinery of oppression’. The ‘Laws of Manu’ in India or the era of
Jim Crow in the United States helped to institutionalize structural violence on
the basis of caste and race respectively.
Social exclusion is a process linked to, but differentiated from, poverty and is
a concept that explains the experiences of a group of people. It is a holistic
concept, which includes deprivation in the economic, social and political sphere.
And also, it is a process through which individuals or groups are wholly or
partially excluded from full participation in the society in which they live. To
understand the dynamics of the exclusion, one needs to analyze the experiences
of a particular individual or a group of people. This will capture the important
dimension of the experiences from social and other institutional processes that
determines the social recognition and acceptance, equal distribution of resources,
providing equal opportunities and fair treatment. As argued by Naila Kabeer,
exclusion underplays the role of power in the experience of inequality.88 For De
Haan, exclusion has value in the focus it provides on the experiences of the most
marginalized, and on the everyday social relations that have the power to
determine life chances, opportunities and experiences.89
In an attempt to situate the concept of social exclusion in the Indian context,
Vidhu Verma90 cautions that unlike in the West where the market is expected
to provide a level playing field, here, it is possible to discern three major chal-
lenges. Firstly, it relates to the historical discrimination of certain groups (SC/
ST, women and minorities) and their exclusion. Second, about the political
economy of the excluded and thirdly the manner in which equality responses
are restricted within the framework of social exclusion. The idea of justice
should include fairness, giving each person their due and more specifically that
idea of responsibility and obligation that we owe to each other or those who
have been harmed in the past.
Hence, social exclusion leads to crises at individual and societal levels
on the basis of race/ethnicity, gender, religion, language, region, caste,
education, class etc. In India, caste is the basic source for exclusion. The
debates in education have shifted away from the narrow engagements, with
exclusion based on ability, to a wider engagement with the structural
processes of material, human and social deprivation, locating education as
one of many interlocking processes through which social exclusion is
played out and ultimately shaped. Inclusive education is therefore looked
at as an agenda aiming at fundamental educational transformation with a
view to developing an equitable education system, which echoes and
reflects the fundamentals of an equitable society.91 Thus, even though the
marginalized groups can access education as it is constitutionally man-
dated, exclusion manifests in dubious terms. In myriad ways, a student is
given signals that he or she is not fit for a particular subject/institution.
The body language and behaviour of a teacher or a dominant caste student
might be very intimidating. The medium of instruction, pedagogy, social
space, classroom, interpersonal relationships, cultural events and hostel
spaces etc. are potential minefields for such students who ultimately either
drop out or, in extreme circumstances, commit suicide. Often, unable to
cope, many students self-exclude from various academic, socio-cultural
activities and, in extreme cases, take their own lives. As argued by
Dominic Abrams, Michael A. Hogg, José M. Marques,92 people’s need to
belong to a social unit is fundamental to their existence. If they are
excluded from their social world, they exhibit lower self-esteem, anxiety
and depression and in many cases would also display increased aggression
and tendencies to self-harm. This book draws together social psychological
theory and research on social inclusion and exclusion. The authors strive
for an integrative conceptual framework that distinguishes features of
social inclusion in terms of different levels of exclusionary relationship,
different modes of exclusion, and different dynamics of exclusion within
the relationship.
Social exclusion can occur in different sites and spaces: within state institu-
tions, the market, the community and the family. A person can be denied access
completely or given only unequal access; both can constitute exclusion. Social
exclusion is often the effect of a process of discrimination or ‘othering’ on the
basis of cultural, social and racial identity. Such discrimination can generate
powerful exclusionary processes. It can be systematic and intentional, resulting
from policies which are embedded in the formal institutions of the state. Dis-
criminatory processes may also be reinforced by religion, tradition and cultural
practices as exemplified by India’s caste system and embedded in dominant
social attitudes, behaviours and prejudicial practices. Exclusion may also be the
outcome of a historical process which severely disadvantages particular social
groups. Inequality/poverty traps refer to pervasive inequalities in economic,
political and social opportunities that combine and persist over time to keep
people poor.
The Life Worlds of the Excluded
For the University Grants Commission, the definition of discrimination means,
any distinction, exclusion, limitation or preference which has the purpose

or effect of nullifying or impairing equality of treatment in education and in
particular i) of depriving a student and a group of students on the basis of
caste, creed, religion, language, ethnicity, gender, disability of access to
education of any type at any level; ii) of imposing conditions on any stu-
dent or group of students which are incompatible with the dignity of
human; and iii) of subjecting to the provision of establishing or maintain-
ing separate educational systems or institutions for students or groups of
students based on caste, creed, religion, language, ethnicity, gender and
disabilities.93
The Department of International Development (DFID) defined social exclusion

as “a process and a state that prevents individuals or groups from full partici-
pation in social, economic and political life and from asserting their rights. It
derives from exclusionary relationships based on power”.94 While providing a
roadmap for achieving development goals, A. A. Dani and Arjan De Haan
argued that governance institutions should focus on policies that promote
inclusion. Only inclusive institutions can provide better services for the whole
population, build human and social capital, increase agency and the rule of law,
and facilitate more sustainable and equitable economic development.95
Since discrimination is sometimes ambiguous in nature it is difficult to
establish with certainty. Considered in isolation, actions usually have several
potential causes. Objective standards by which to establish discrimination are
rarely available. Thus, judgments of discrimination are often subjective, subject
to human error, and prone to dispute. Furthermore, the consequences of this
judgment are substantial. If discrimination is ignored, it can have a psychosocial
impact. On the other hand, perceiving discrimination where it is nonexistent
can engender hostility, suspicion and conflict. This begs the question: what does
a person mean when they assert that they have been a victim of discrimination?
Discrimination has two essential components: (a) a judgment that treatment
was based on social identity or group membership, and (b) a judgment that
treatment was unjust or undeserved.96 Many scholars have utilized experiential
epistemology to analyze the understated and subtle forms of discrimination
faced by Dalit students in their journeys through academia. Vivek Kumar
focused on exclusion expressed at different levels: in appointments, admission
of students, content of curricula of the Social Sciences and Humanities, the way
teachers and Dalit students interact, and how upper caste students interact with
their Dalit counterparts.97 Similarly, N. Sukumar also examined student sui-
cides in various universities and their linkages with institutionalized dis-
crimination and prejudices.98 Another qualitative study using an Interpretative
Phenomenological Analysis (IPA) explored the lifeworlds of Dalit students in a
state university in Uttar Pradesh in order to understand caste-based prejudice
and discrimination on campus.99 Likewise, Bharat Rathod sought a comparison
between diversity research studies in the United States and the lack of similar
efforts in the Indian context.100 Another study by Vandana investigated the
frequency and severity of sexual harassment faced by Dalit girl students in a
milieu dominated by upper caste students, faculty and administration. It also
highlighted the ways in which Dalit girls articulate and interpret sexual har-
assment, and the circumscribed ways in which they try to negotiate with their
predicament while seeking higher education.101 Despite all the attendant pro-
blems, there is a deep hunger to access education, what Mary E. John terms the
‘silent revolution’, which demonstrates the increase in girl students’ enrolment
in higher education as per government data.102
In this context the most fundamental fact in the focus of any discourse on
social exclusion should be the role of the institutionalized attempts to exclude,
to segregate or to cast out a segment of the population from the social order.
Here one does not deal with a situation where a particular individual ‘ill-treats’
another person, but the social process itself is discriminatory in its principles
and practice. Thus, social segregation is an institutionalized form of social dis-
tancing expressed not always in physical separation but through various verbal
and non-verbal clues. It signifies the convergence of physical and social space
and is to be distinguished from other social forms, which also structure social
distance in spatial terms.
Since social exclusion provides space for domination, discrimination and
deprivation, those who benefit out of this social formation do not want to
introduce any change in this structure. Significantly, this social system becomes
highly resistant to change and transformation. Interestingly, it is not only those
who discriminate against those who are supposed to be “inferior, incapable, less
meritorious and lower” who resist change, but even those who are victims of
discrimination also are not in a position to mobilize and organize the dis-
criminated masses to alter the existing social system. In this regard, it is perti-
nent to state here that contrary to popular belief it is not because these social
groups want to remain in the dehumanizing social order that they do not initi-
ate change but because they fear that they may be subjected to repression if they
resist exclusion and discrimination.103
Generally, the most common reason given for permanent exclusion from
school is physical or verbal violence, followed by disruption and other mis-
conduct. Exclusion on the grounds of disruptive behaviour is one of the most
overt forms of rejection by a school of its pupils, and for many young people
increases the probability of their social exclusion.104 However, it would appear
that there are usually additional reasons behind the one that is recorded. Ten-
sions in pupil-teacher relationships have been highlighted; behaviours seen as
challenging and rejecting of teacher authority, such as verbal abuse, have been
noted as underlying reasons behind those officially recorded. Berridge105 and
Vulliamy and Webb106 noted that exclusion is a social process; often there are
discrepancies in the way schools respond to certain behaviours. Osler, Watling
107
and Busher note that the biggest factor influencing whether a pupil is likely
to be excluded from school is the particular school s/he attends.
One of the negative effects of social setting is the potential for stigmatization
and damage to a pupil’s self-esteem, itself a form of social exclusion within the
school. According to Gamoran, there are two main problems associated with
setting and streaming. The first relates to inequalities for particular groups of
learners; when teachers separate pupils by achievement levels they are also
predisposed to separate by race/ethnicity, and by social class. Secondly, differ-
ences in achievement levels of pupils in different classes tend to become exa-
cerbated over time.108 Hallam, Ireson and Davies highlight primary school
pupils’ perceptions and experiences of being grouped by ability. They found
that pupils were aware of the function of setting, and that the majority sup-
ported the policy in their school.109 The pupils interviewed in Hallam et al.’s
study stated that the main advantage of ability grouping was having their work
set at appropriate levels, while the main disadvantage was the stigmatization of
lower ability pupils.110 There is a need, therefore, to carefully consider the
effects that setting may have on pupils as this may affect “their performance,
their perceptions of themselves as learners, and on their lifelong view of edu-
cation and schooling”. Todd D. Nelson in his work,111 focused on African
Americans’ access to employment and healthcare, which has a negative impact
on their physical and mental health. Blacks are less likely to receive major
therapeutic procedures for many conditions and often do not receive necessary
treatments, have delayed diagnoses, or fail to manage chronic diseases. Com-
munities who face sustained discrimination report more psychological distress,
depression, and lower levels of life satisfaction and happiness.
Adopting a multidisciplinary approach, Paulus Kaufmann, Hannes Kuch,
Christian Neuhäuser, Elaine Webster112 argue that violations of human dignity
are brought about by concrete practices and conditions; some commonly
acknowledged, such as torture and rape, and others more contested, such as
poverty and exclusion. The study utilizes various sources to contextualise their
arguments, like historical documents, testimonies, legal judgments and other
literature. The contributors also reflect on emerging areas of ethical concern
such as bioethics and genetic medicine.
In a similar vein, Jean M. Twenge, Kathleen R. Catanese and Roy F. Bau-
meister113 hypothesize that socially excluded individuals enter a defensive state
of cognitive deconstruction that avoids meaningful thought, emotion and self-
awareness and is characterized by lethargy and altered time flow. Social rejec-
tion led to an overestimation of time intervals, a focus on the present rather
than the future, and a failure to delay gratification. Such individuals would
exhibit negative emotions and displayed a lack of self-worth. Thus, the psy-
chological aspects of exclusion include the absence of power, voice and inde-
pendence, and vulnerability to exploitation and humiliation. This highlights the
importance of a capacity for agency that allows people to improve the quality
of their relationships and to secure respect and dignity for themselves. This begs
the question as to whether individuals and communities can overcome the
effects of past discrimination that endure once legal barriers are removed.
However, as discussed by Karla Hoff and Priyanka Pandey,114 the link between
discrimination, social identity and behaviour causes the effects of past dis-
crimination to persist over time for well-identified groups. The work is based
on experiments in an Indian village that explore the effects of social identity on
individual performance.
Many times, exclusion can result from the power relations that shape social
spaces. John Gaventa115 argues that in this context, the concept of boundaries is
important: “Power relations help to shape the boundaries of participatory
spaces, what is possible within them, and who may enter, with which identities,
discourses and interests.” He argues that power needs to be understood in
relation to how spaces of engagement are created, the levels of power that exist
within them, and the different forms of power that flow across them. This
article explores one approach to power analysis, known as the ‘power cube’ in
the context of development policy makers and community. If the development
community wants to change power relationships to make them more inclusive,
it must reflect on power relationships. The power cube may represent the first
step in making power’s most hidden and invisible forms more visible. In the
university spaces, administration, teachers, peer groups etc. embody power,
which in many cases act like privileged caste clubs to keeps away the SC/ST
encroachers. The Nobel Laureate, Abhijit Banerjee observed in an interview
that Jawaharlal Nehru University showed him a model of class and caste
inclusiveness that he did not experience in Presidency College back in Calcutta.
Presidency, despite being a public institution, was far too straddled with the old
boys’ network from the Bengali upper castes.116
In a research paper prepared for the DAC Poverty Network,117 the authors
argued that the injury done to people who experience discrimination on the
basis of labels they are given by society and entrenched ideas about their infer-
iority or societal taboos around sex, death and dirt goes well beyond that of
economic deprivation and lack of political voice. When people are treated as
lesser human beings because of the colour of their skin, their sex, what they do
for a living, and where they live, they tend to internalize a sense of lack of
worth that profoundly affects their sense of what they can do and what is due
to them by society. This has a profound impact on the quality of intergroup
and intragroup relationships experienced by people. Similar ideas were expres-
sed by the respondents of the present study when SC students found comfort
within their own caste groups, as others will ridicule them for their food choi-
ces, language, colour etc.
The focus on inequality is also echoed in R. Eyben’s work,118 which exam-
ined four key generic processes that offer an actor-oriented framework for
understanding how inequality can be maintained or transformed. These pro-
cesses are: (i) ‘Othering’ and objectification; (ii) Spatial and symbolic boundary
maintenance; (iii) Emotion management; and (iv) Subordinate adaptation
(which involves strategies including trading autonomy for protection). When
individuals or groups, and particularly youth, feel excluded from power
structures, and deprived of legitimate outlets to express their grievances, vio-
lence can provide an opportunity for them to have a voice and to gain control
over their own lives. This is reflected in cases where Dalit students took
recourse to violence to make their ‘presence’ felt and voices heard.119
In the Indian context, Ashwini Deshpande,120 looks at caste from an
economic perspective and sought to enquire into the many dimensions of
economic discrimination in contemporary India. The significance of the
work is that it introduces the reader to the nexus between caste and occu-
pations, whether this is beginning to break down under the influence of
economic development in the era of reforms, the various theories of dis-
crimination and caste; and the issues relating to identities and measurement
of discrimination. The study also deals with merit, mobility and modernism
in the context of the Delhi University.
However, not all forms of social exclusion are easy to quantify as multiple
identities can blur group boundaries, and some excluded groups can be ‘invi-
sible’. In such cases, a socio-psychological approach is required to unravel
multiple and complex layers of exclusion. At a more macro level, groups,
communities and societies also may undergo a process of social exclusion from
larger collectivities, in which progressive isolation and a decline of solidarity
give rise to new social boundaries – exclusion lines, so to speak – between
insiders and outsiders. This becomes pertinent in the context of rising suicides
of SC/ST/OBC students on campuses unable to withstand the discriminatory
behaviour in academic environments.
Social exclusion practices are also rooted in custom and habits of the mind.
The cognitive foundations through which people mediate their social identities
and perceptions of themselves are crucial to understand stigma and humiliation.
Erving Goffman121 believed that when an individual comes in contact with
other people, that individual will attempt to control or guide the impression
that others might make of him by changing or fixing his or her setting,
appearance and manners. At the same time, the person with whom the indivi-
dual is interacting with is trying to form and obtain information about the
individual. Goffman also assumed that all participants in social interactions are
engaged in certain practices to avoid being embarrassed or embarrassing others.
This led to Goffman’s dramaturgical analysis wherein he saw a connection
between the kinds of acts that people put on in their daily life and theatrical
performances. In social interaction, as in theatrical performance, there is a front
region where the ‘actors’ (individuals) are on stage in front of the audiences.
This is where the positive aspect of the idea of self and desired impressions is
highlighted. There is also a back region or stage that can also be considered as
a hidden or private place where individuals can be themselves and can get rid of
their role or identity in society.
The core of Goffman’s analysis lies in this relationship between performance
and life. Unlike other writers who have used this metaphor, Goffman seems to
take all elements of acting into consideration: an actor performs on a setting
which is constructed of a stage and a backstage; the props in both settings
direct his action; he is being watched by an audience, but at the same time he is
an audience for his viewers’ play. For Goffman, the social actor has the ability
to choose his stage and props, as well as the costume he would wear in front of
a specific audience. The actor’s main goal is to be coherent and adjust to the
different settings offered to him. This is done mainly through interaction with
other actors. To a certain extent, this imagery bridges structure and agency,
enabling each, while saying that structure and agency can limit each other.
While utilizing Goffman’s analysis to understand the disparaging observa-
tions non-SCs make about SCs behind their backs, especially regarding their
advantages due to reservations, Tulsi Patel122 makes use of everyday caste spe-
cific idioms in trains, buses and residential areas in North India. She also
highlights as to how SCs manage their stigmatized identity. Taking up the
controversies around reservations, her work explores the association between
education, jobs and stigma. Undoubtedly, the accumulation of cultural capital
is a long-drawn-out process and it needs to be addressed at the level of
schooling of SCs to counter their being stigmatized as impure, unworthy
people. The case narratives of the respondents in the present work also reveal
the subtle forms of caste performativity which are encountered in their daily
lives.
Yusuf Sayed, Crain Soudien and Nazir Carrim,123 focused on current debates
on social exclusion and inclusive policies with reference to South Africa and
India. They caution against defining groups and individuals in essentialist terms
as identities are complex entities. Innovative approaches to educational inclu-
sion will need to address issues at macro, micro, personal and interpersonal
levels and to recognize and engage with the political implications of working at
these levels. Connections between school and community cultures have to be
drawn, as well as between educational and community programmes of
inclusion.
Augusto De Venanzi124 in his study explored diverse cases of social
exclusion across time and space aiming to uncover its essential production
processes. He paid special attention to the various ways in which exclusion
originates and how it becomes ingrained into the structure of the society.
Cases of exclusion are drawn from the United States, Japan, China, India
and Jamaica. The study found that social exclusion is a phenomenon
which derives primarily from ethnocentric dispositions, which is expressed
through a variety of discursive and social practices aimed at keeping cer-
tain groups relegated to the bottom of society. Also, some excluded com-
munities are able to develop collective identities and adversarial cultures
which translate into politicized identities. The emergence of anti-caste
student organizations in the last decade in the form of political organiza-
tions and study groups to name few, Birsa Ambedkar Phule Students
Association (BAPSA) in JNU and Gujarat Central University, Ambedkar
Students Association (ASA) in different universities, Youth for Social Jus-
tice in Delhi University, Ambedkar-Periyar Study Circles in IITs etc. testify
to an alternative imagination amongst the marginalized groups.
Setting the Field
The decade of the nineties laid bare the deep fault lines in Indian society when
the Mandal Commission Report was sought to be implemented. As a young
postgraduate SC student in Hyderabad University, the author witnessed
tumultuous times – identity clashes, social dominance, questions on ‘merit’,
‘quota’s children’, and such similar terms were bandied around various cam-
puses. The Tsundur caste carnage and the Dalit Mahasabha shaped the debates
on caste in the campus. Gradually, social solidarity in the campus was fash-
ioned around identity issues, like reserved category, multiple caste identities,
disciplinary binaries, as science, technology and professional courses favoured
anti-Mandal and ‘meritorious’ students. One witnessed epistemic injustices but
lacked the vocabulary to contextualise such occurrences within the classrooms
and interactions with the peer group. The setting up of the Ambedkar Students
Association provided a platform to organize and struggle against caste pre-
judices while providing camaraderie to fellow quota students. A few humane
teachers and administrative officials on campus provided the much-needed
moral support to stand for social justice and Ambedkarite politics.
When India accepted the roadmap for ushering in neo-liberal reforms in
education, the situation had become grim and vulnerable for first generation SC
students who desire to enter university spaces. The instances of student dropout
due to various forms of discrimination, caste-plaining (a deliberate refusal to
acknowledge the prevalence of caste-based social hierarchies), lack of support
from teachers, administration and peer groups have been on the rise. The state
appointed many committees to probe these issues but the deeply entrenched
caste hierarchy continues to flourish, which is manifested in various ways. In
2002, ten Dalit students who were first generation learners, children of agri-
cultural and daily wage labourers, were rusticated and slapped with police cases
by Hyderabad Central University (HCU) for creating a ruckus over increased
mess charges and the demotion of a warden (who happened to be a teacher
belonging to the Dalit community) in charge of ‘sanitation and gardening’. On
10 January 2002, the students went to the chief warden’s office to discuss their
grievances. A scuffle ensued and subsequent fact-finding teams found that
nobody had been injured.125 However, the institution quickly rusticated the
students; they were arrested and held without bail for six days. Nine of the
students were pursuing research, four in natural sciences availing Council for
Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR) fellowships and five in humanities and
social sciences. They had all cleared UGC-JRF including the National Eligibility
Test. The students rented rooms outside the campus to finish their studies.
With their grit and determination, they have all succeeded in fashioning lucra-
tive careers for themselves. The case was finally quashed in late 2007.126 The
Anveshi team wrote a report highlighting the lived experiences of the students
and the suffocating campus ambience. In a rejoinder to the above report, two
teachers from the Department of Political Science in HCU reduced the entire
episode, “as an attempted justification of violence in conjunction with identity
politics”.127 The reality is that Dalit students have been at the receiving end of
various intimidatory tactics, including psychological violence. The Anveshi
report states,
Even more painful have been the kinds of epithets hurled at them by some
student groups who have pasted notices calling them ‘pigs’ and uncivilised,
violent ‘brutes’. One among a spate of hostile posters that appeared
recently, exhort the science students to get ‘purified’ by ejecting the ‘cor-
rupt’ faces in their midst.128
The Thorat Committee recorded similar testimonies in the All India Institute of
Medical Sciences (AIIMS).
The SC/ST students in fact suffer from abuse, humiliation and violence.
The caste related ragging is a classical example of the culture in AIIMS.
The caste division has resulted into a culture, which at time has taken an
ugly shape. Two examples of this division can be given; one relates to the
video documentary showing the burning of Dr. Ambedkar’s writings by the
students and second relates to grouping on the internet.129
Ironically, Dalit struggles are reduced to identity politics but when a pro-
fessor from the mathematics department in HCU got a well dug in his official
quarters because of his belief that the municipal water supply polluted his
‘Brahmanical purity’, this did not become an issue, or attract the attention of
the university authorities.130 This resonates with Deshpande’s argument that
the upper castes are perceived to be ‘casteless’131 whereas the lower castes
indulge in caste politics. The HCU teachers go on to state as to how the insti-
tution is hand-holding students from “socially disabling backgrounds with a
baggage of twenty years of neglect”.132 Even if their report is accepted at face
value, what explains the suicides of students (particularly Dalits) in HCU in
more than a decade? Even in death, Dalit students plough a lonely furrow.
When students from privileged backgrounds participate in campus politics,
their teachers and mentors write paeans for them. In 2016, when the JNU
campus was torn apart on the issue of nationalism, teachers and politicians of
various hues defended the students both in the print and electronic media.
However, no requiems are penned for the unfortunate Dalit students and even
in death, they are invisibilized. The institutions disowned Balmukund Bharati,
Anil Kumar Meena, Rohith Vemula, Muthukrishnan, Payal Tadvi and others
completely.
In 2008, Senthil Kumar (PhD Scholar in Physics belonging to the SC com-
munity) at Hyderabad University committed suicide in his hostel room unable
to cope with systemic discrimination in the campus. His body was discovered
after two days. The author could comprehend Senthil’s universe as he had spent
a decade in the same campus and was familiar with the insidious working of
caste bigotry in the university. When the author narrated his experiences of
caste inequity in the university setting at an academic gathering in Delhi Uni-
versity, he was ridiculed as the audience felt that caste is an anachronism in a
modern institution. Some pointed out that he (the author) is valorizing victim-
hood. As a first-generation Dalit in academia, the onus is on the author to
prove the veracity of exclusionary practices in higher educational institutions to
an unbelieving academic audience. This motivated the author to probe further
into the lived experiences of Dalit students on campuses by focusing more
intently on particular ways through which these students create meanings from
their experiences. Frequently, these processes go unnoticed or unexamined in
the daily life. Apart from the field data, the author has also utilized his own
experiences, both as a student and then as a faculty, wherein he was also called
upon to perform his caste identity as part of the official procedures by the
university.
With the passage of time, SC students in many elite institutions have been
forced to kill themselves unable to withstand the hostile environment. As Rad-
hika Vemula said, “I would proudly tell people that my son is doing PhD at
Hyderabad University”. Alas, when her son (Rohith Vemula) took his own life
after being hounded by the institution, she was not allowed to see her son’s
body as he was cremated in haste by the police. Once in the hoary past, Eklavya
cut off his thumb as ‘gurudakshina’ to Dronacharya. Even in contemporary
times, SC students are excluded and stigmatized based on their caste identity.
Their caste is their sole ‘merit’. As argued by Satish Deshpande, it is essential to
understand the transformation of caste into various forms of social capital to
unravel its menacing journey in academia.
This book attempts to comprehend the differential treatment meted out to SC
students who gain admission through reservations in Indian universities.
Unfortunately, their efforts to acquire education are hampered by systemic dis-
crimination, which affects their sense of worth, academic merit, and ideas of
self and dignity. The study is based on survey research in selected universities
through structured questionnaires. Further, the problem of caste discrimination
is foregrounded by taking recourse to debates on prejudice, stigma and humi-
liation, which impacts the social psychology of the individual and the commu-
nity. Hopefully, the narratives of campus life can lead to meaningful
engagement among communities of learners, teachers and researchers in claim-
ing the ‘right to narrate’ and in doing so, to foster grassroots knowledge
work.133
Elephant in the Room

The Ministry of Human Resource Development (MHRD) under the Indian
Government, constituted a committee headed by Prof. S. K. Thorat to enquire
into allegations of prejudiced treatment of SC students in the AIIMS Delhi.
This was in the wake of media reports and complaints to the government about
the said harassment and abuse. The Committee was given the mandate to look
into all matters connected with caste discrimination.134 In its report which was
submitted in 2007, the committee suggested measures to engage and prevent
discrimination against SC/ST students in AIIMS, Delhi as well as other educa-
tional institutions.
On 19 July 2011, The University Grants Commission135 issued notices to all
the Registrars of Universities including deemed Universities flagging the suicides
committed by the SC students in higher educational institutions due to caste
discrimination. The immediate context was that between the years from 2007 to
2011, approximately 20136 SC students committed suicide due to intolerance in
the various institutions like medical, engineering colleges as well as different
university departments particularly in sciences and professional courses. Their
names are as follows: M. Shrikant, B.Tech, IIT Bombay, Ajay S. Chandra,
PhD, Indian Institute of Sciences (IISc), Bangalore, Jaspreet Singh, MBBS,
Government Medical College, Chandigarh, Senthil Kumar, PhD, School of
Physics, University of Hyderabad, Prashant Kureel, B.Tech, IIT Kanpur, G.
Suman, M.Tech, IIT Kanpur, Ankita Veghda, BSc Nursing, Singhi Institute of
Nursing, Ahmedabad, D. Syam Kumar, B.Tech, Sarojini Institute of Engineer-
ing and Technology, Vijayawada, S. Amravathi, Centre of Excellence, Sports
Authority of Andhra Pradesh, Hyderabad, Bandi Anusha, B.Com Villa Mary
College, Hyderabad, Pushpanjali Poorty, MBA, Visvesvaraya Technological
University, Bangalore, Sushil Kumar Chaudhary, MBBS, Chhatrapati Shahuji
Maharaj Medical University (formerly KGMC), Lucknow, Balmukund Bharti,
MBBS, All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS), New Delhi, J. K.
Ramesh, BSc, University of Agricultural Sciences, Bangalore, Madhuri Sale, B.
Tech, IIT Kanpur, G. Varalakshmi, B.Tech Vignan Engineering College,
Hyderabad, Manish Kumar, B.Tech, IIT Roorkee, Linesh Mohan Gawle, PhD,
National Institute of Immunology, New Delhi, Rejani S. and Anand IHRD
Engineering College, Adoor, Kerala.
In IITs, student suicides137 reflect a toxic culture of high aspirations, aca-
demic performances and caste discriminations. In January 2016, three Dalit
female students pursuing a homeopathy course committed suicide in Tamil
Nadu. All three had written many complaints not only to the college chairper-
son, but also state authorities about being ‘tortured’ for excess fees and abys-
mal living and studying facilities. In the end, the three teenagers from poor
homes decided that committing suicide was the only way that their and their
fellow students’ voices would be heard.138 Despite various committees and
reports suggesting ameliorative measures, students from the oppressed groups
continue to be excluded in the institutions of higher learning.
Notwithstanding efforts by the state and its institutions to ensure a level
playing field to students from marginalized backgrounds, atrocities continued to
occur in various spaces against SC students. On 6 February 2013, the students
at the Bhimrao Ambedkar Welfare Hostel of Patna University139 experienced
the violent fury unleashed by the caste-ridden society. The hostel residents had
to face abusive and derogatory language, which injured their self-esteem. They
were reminded of their social origins and caste-based occupations in a brutal
manner. “You are Harijans. You have no right to read and write. Your work is
to mend shoes and chappals. We will keep you as servants in our houses. Your
ancestors did the same work. You leave the hostel or else there will be a mas-
sacre”.140 Similarly, in JNU, the technique of Viva Voce has been used to ter-
rorize students from the SC background who are consistently given low
weightage.141 Parallel sentiments were echoed by the respondents for whom
such comments are part of the normal discourse.
It is possible to multiply such instances of discrimination and humiliation in
various campuses across the country, which resulted in dropouts, lack of
opportunity for academic progress, denial of fellowships, humiliation and
finally suicide of SC students. In the past decade, eight SC students committed
suicide only in HCU. Ironically, universities are ranked in terms of their
research output, faculty and student qualifications, international projects etc.
Despite these tragic statistics, HCU is considered as an Institution of Eminence
with a National Assessment and Accreditation Council (NAAC) Score of A****.
For the past five decades, the problems associated with scheduled caste students
accessing education has been highlighted in various studies and yet the scenario
is very discouraging. The spectrum of exclusion ranges from dropouts at one
end to suicides at the extreme level. In between, there are students who
experience stigma and humiliation as a given ‘normal’, and struggle to survive
the campus. How does one explain the extinguishing of young lives in these
ghettos of excellence?
The Government of India passed an Act in 2013142 on which the present
study has based its template. The Act goes into great detail about the notions of
what constitutes discrimination, its fallout in the universities and the means to
institute a level playing field. It focuses on implementing reservations, equitable
behaviour in the classroom/laboratory, denial of necessary facilities for com-
pletion of courses, name calling and stigmatizing the identities of SC/ST stu-
dents, and the strict implementation of provisions to safeguard the rights of
students belonging to these communities. The detailed provisions of the Act
helped to map the patterns of discrimination in higher educational institutions.
It seeks to interrogate the differential treatment meted out to SC students who
get admission through affirmative action in institutions of higher learning and
the psychosocial consequences of discrimination that they are subjected to by
the peer group, administration and the larger academia.
The universe of the study encompasses ten universities across the country
(five central and five state), across disciplines and both male and female stu-
dents. Five universities are based in metropolitan centres and five are located in
smaller cities across the country. The sample size is 600 students, consisting of
60 students from each university with detailed data analysis and selected case
narratives. The research is based on in-depth face-to-face interviews, with stu-
dents who expressed their willingness to be interviewed. The samples selected
are not homogenous; though they are SC students; there are differences of
region, language, economic status, sub-caste and gender. The selected central
and state universities were established decades ago but the major differences are
that the former receive the lion’s share of funding; the student body is more
diverse in terms of language, disciplines, gender, ethnicity and social back-
ground and campus life is more vibrant. They are also known for caste politics
apart from other political ideologies. The samples were selected through pur-
posive snowball sampling and different Dalit student organizations and teachers
helped to identify the samples. The first round of questionnaires was tested in
two universities – one central and one state – and concerns raised in the field
were ironed out in the subsequent surveys. The detailed questionnaire com-
prises various segments-enrolments, scholarships/fellowships, hostel/classroom/
lab/research experiences, research supervision and administrative support,
interpersonal relationships and the need for legal and institutional remedies.
Some question contained options for multiple answers and provision for pro-
viding shared responses apart from their own. Apart from the detailed field
research, the study also analyzes government reports on caste problems in
campuses, secondary literature on caste, ideas on reservations/merit, stigma,
humiliation and exclusion, apart from conceptual works theorizing the
academia.
In the recent past, social media posts, blog writings, online portals143 have pro-
vided spaces for many marginalized groups to speak themselves into existence,
which the established media seldom provided. These writings have been utilized to
recover the lived experiences of students, some successful in their careers, a few
who dropped out or even committed suicide. In each institution, sixty samples
were interviewed; however, in state universities, girl students were reluctant to
talk, even with female researchers. Across all institutions, girl students pursuing
sciences and professional courses both at the master’s and research levels were
disinclined to respond saying that they might get into trouble if anyone comes to
know the purpose of this research. In some cases, the research team had to visit
respondents outside the campus to maintain the respondents’ anonymity. The
interviews were conducted in Hindi, English, Malayalam, Tamil and Telugu. A
total of 188 females and 412 males were interviewed across disciplines and insti-
tutions. The purpose of the study is to reflect on the social psychology and the
everyday semiotics of exclusion of SC students in these selected universities, to
probe the multi-layered forms and medium of exclusion, discrimination and
humiliation whether it is direct or indirect, intended or unintended, consciously or
subconsciously done, and also seeks to study those which are practised institu-
tionally, structurally, or aided by socially superior communities in academia. The
technique of Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis144 (IPA) is utilized to unra-
vel the field data/narratives. The study has taken adequate precautions to maintain
the anonymity of the sample universities and the respondents. During the course of
the study, care was taken to conduct the research as per the prevalent ethical
considerations.
The present study has used terms like upper castes, savarnas, lower castes
and socially dominant communities as these terms have gained academic usage.
Many such terms have been used by the respondents and are prevalent in the
textual sources used for the study. I personally do not subscribe to such termi-
nology, which positions communities as socially superior or inferior.
Table 1.1 Details of the Selected Institutions, Courses and Gender
Gender * University Name * Current Course/Programme
Current Course/Programme University Name (Fictitious) Total
A B C D E F G H I J
MA Gender Female 2 2 1 20 9 4 0 3 10 7 58
Male 8 2 30 8 15 6 7 5 23 9 113
Total 10 4 31 28 24 10 7 8 33 16 171
MSc Gender Female 0 2 0 9 2 1 1 1 2 0 18
Male 0 1 0 1 1 0 1 3 7 2 16
Total 0 3 0 10 3 1 2 4 9 2 34
MCom Gender Female 0 0 0 6 1 0 0 0 0 0 7
Male 0 0 1 0 0 1 5 1 0 0 8
Total 0 0 1 6 1 1 5 1 0 0 15
MPhil Gender Female 6 0 0 5 0 6 0 2 2 5 26
Male 12 4 0 2 0 8 0 7 3 8 44
Total 18 4 0 7 0 14 0 9 5 13 70
PhD – Gender Female 0 3 0 2 4 2 1 1 0 6 19
Science
Male 1 7 0 1 7 2 10 5 3 9 45
Total 1 10 0 3 11 4 11 6 3 15 64
Social Sci-
Caste and the Academia
Male 21 24 27 6 19 14 25 28 8 5 177
ence and
33
Humanities Total 31 39 27 6 21 29 29 31 9 14 236

34
Gender * University Name * Current Course/Programme

Caste and the Academia

Other
Male 0 0 0 0 0 1 4 0 0 0 5
Disciplines
Total 0 0 0 0 0 1 5 0 0 0 6
PDF Gender Male 0 0 1 0 0 0 1 1 1 0 4
Total 0 0 1 0 0 0 1 1 1 0 4
Total Gender Female 18 22 1 42 18 28 7 10 15 27 188
Male 42 38 59 18 42 32 53 50 45 33 412
Total 60 60 60 60 60 60 60 60 60 60 600
Notes
1 English translations of Mukta Salve and Tarabai Shinde’s writings were first pub-
lished in Susie Tharu and K. Lalita, Women Writing in India: 600 BC to Present,
Oxford University Press, Delhi, 1991.
2 Churchill, Winston, Speech at Harvard University, 6 Sept. 1943, quoted in Braj
Ranjan Mani, Knowledge and Power: A Discourse for Transformation, Manohar
Publishers, 2014.
3 Gellner, Ernest, Nations and Nationalism, Basil Blackwell Publisher Limited, Eng-
land, 1983, p. 34.
4 For more details refer, John Berger, Ways of Seeing, London, Penguin, 1981. Also,
Braj Ranjan Mani, Knowledge and Power: A Discourse for Transformation,
Manohar Publications, Delhi, 2014.
5 Scott Appelrouth and Laura Desfor Edles, Sociological Theory in the Con-
temporary Era: Text and Readings, New York: Sage Publications, 2011, p. 449.
6 Bourdieu, Pierre, “The Forms of Capital,” in Handbook of Theory and Research
for the Sociology of Education, ed. J. Richardson, Westport, CT, Greenwood
Publication, 1986.
7 Ibid, p. 18.
8 Ibid, p. 17.
9 Ibid, p. 18.
10 Ibid, p. 18.
11 Ibid, p. 18.
12 Ibid, p. 20.
13 Althusser, Louis, “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses,” in Lenin and Phi-
losophy and Other Essays, New York: Monthly Review Press, 1971, p. 103.
14 Bourdieu, Pierre and Passeron, The Logic of Practice, Cambridge: Polity Press,
1990, pp. ix–x.
15 Scott Appelrouth and Laura Desfor Edles, op. cit. p. 692.
16 Bourdieu, Pierre and Passeron, op. cit.
17 Bourdieu, Pierre, op. cit. 1986, pp. x–xi.
18 Nash, Walter, Language in Popular Fiction, London: Routledge, Taylor and Fran-
cis Group, 1990, p. 435.
19 Collins, James, “Social Reproduction in Classrooms and Schools”, The Annual
Review of Anthropology, 2009, doi 10.1146/annurev.anthro.37.081407.085242, p. 1.
20 Deshpande, Satish, “Caste and Castelessness: Towards a Biography of the ‘Gen-
eral Category’”. Economic and Political Weekly Vol. 48, No. 15, 13 April 2013,
pp. 32–39.
21 Subramanian, Ajantha, “Making Merit: The Indian Institutes of Technology and
the Social Life of Caste”, Comparative Studies in Society and History, 2015, 57(2),
pp. 291–322.
22 Béteille, André, “Caste in Contemporary India”. In C. J. Fuller, ed., Caste Today,
Oxford University Press, 1996, p. 162.
23 Béteille, André. “The Reproduction of Inequality: Occupation, Caste and Family”,
Contributions to Indian Sociology (n.s.) 25, 1, 1991, p. 25.
24 Béteille, André, “Universities as Institutions”, Economic and Political Weekly,
March 18, 1995, pp. 563–568.
25 Subramanian, Ajantha, op. cit. p. 298.
26 Bourdieu, Pierre, op. cit. 1986, p. 46.
27 Deshpande, Satish, op. cit. pp. 32–39.
29 Duties based on one’s caste location, the core ideology of Brahmanical Hinduism.
31 Ilaiah Kancha in Manushi quoted in Vishwanathan, Shiv, “Democracy, Plurality
and Indian University”, Economic and Political Weekly, September 30, 2000,
p. 3604.
32 Visvanathan, Shiv, “Democracy, Plurality and Indian University”, Economic and
Political Weekly, September 30, 2000, p. 3604.
33 Dongerkery, S. R., A History of the University of Bombay, 1857–1957. University
of Bombay, 1957, p. 2.
34 For more illustrations of the efforts of the marginalized groups seeking to access
education, refer, Nidhin Shobhana, https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?op
tion=com_content&view=article&id=8880:in-the-name-of-the-nation-historicizing-
caste-in-indian-universities&catid=119:feature&Itemid=132 Accessed, 20th June
2019.
35 Béteille André,, quoted by, Ramachandra Guha, “Pluralism in the Indian Uni-
versity”, Perspectives, Economic and Political Weekly, February 17, 2007, p. 564.
36 Tilak J. B. G., Higher Education in India: In Search of Equality, Quality and
Quantity, Orient Blackswan, 2013, p. 1.
37 Biswas A. K. quotes a letter written by Vidyasagar on September 29, 1859, to John
Peter Grant, the Lieutenant Governor of Bengal, opposing the Charles Woods
Dispatch of 1854 “Universalization of Education: India in a Trap” http://ma
instreamweekly.net/article1615.html, September 9, 2009. Accessed 22nd June 2018.
38 Biswas A. K., ibid.
39 Vora Rajendra, “Two Strands of Indian Liberalism: The Ideas of Ranade and
Phule” (ed) Political Thought in Modern India, Thomas Pantham and Kenneth
Deutsch, Sage Publications, 1986, pp. 96–97.
40 Phule Jyotiba, Slavery, Preface, p. 8, https://velivada.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/
04/slavery-preface.pdf, Accessed April 14, 2018.
41 Sen, Amartya, “Poetry and Reason Why Rabindranath Tagore still matters”. https://
newrepublic.com/article/89649/rabindranath-tagore June 30, 2011. Accessed 12
March 2018.
42 Jayapalan, N., History of Education in India, New Delhi: Atlantic Publishers and
Distributors, 2005, pp. 99–105.
43 Cited in Bhattacharyya Rabindranath, “Maulana Abul Kalam Azad and the
Reconstruction of National Education in India, 1947–1958”, paper presented in
National Seminar on “Maulana Abul Kalam Azad and the Indian National Move-
ment”, organized by Maulana Abul Kalam Azad Institute of Asian Studies, on 11–12
November 2020.
44 Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, trans. David Ross, New York: Oxford University
Press, 1980, pp. 12–14.
45 Sen, Amartya, Social Exclusion: Concept, Application, and Scrutiny, New Delhi,
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47 N. Sukumar, “Living a Concept: Semiotics of Everyday Exclusion,” Economic and
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49 Visvanathan, Shiv, op. cit. p. 3597.
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53 Kirpal, Viney, “Higher Education for the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes”,
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55 Rao, S., Srinivas, “SCs in Education and Workforce”, Economic and Political
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58 Chanana, Karuna, “Accessing Higher Education: The Dilemma of Schooling
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60 Jenkins, Robert and Barr, Eimar, “Social Exclusion of Scheduled Caste Children
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61 Ramaswamy Uma, “Education and Equality”, Economic and Political Weekly, vol. 20,
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62 Gundemeda, Nagaraju and Ch. Krishnarao, “Scheduled Caste Children and Sec-
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in India: The Dalit Question, Ghanshyam Shah, Kanak Kanti Bagchi and Vishwa-
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63 Ramaswamy Uma, op. cit.
64 Béteille, André, “The Indian University: Academic Standards and the Pursuit of
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to Education”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43, No. 20, May 17–23, 2008,
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65 Béteille André, Universities at the Crossroads. New Delhi: Oxford University
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66 Ibid, p. 54.
67 Ibid, p. 57.
68 Guha, Ramachandra, Op-Ed / Opinion: Higher Education www.indiatogether.org/
vice-op-ed, 4th July 2009. Accessed, 20 June 2017.
69 Bharati, Sunita Reddy, “Attitudes of Scheduled Caste University Students Towards
Reservation and Its Implications”, Indian Anthropologist, Vol. 31, No. 1, June
2001, pp. 29–43.
70 Ghosh, Jayati, “Case for Caste-Based Quotas in Higher Education”, Economic and
Political Weekly, Vol. 41, No. 24, June 17–23, 2006, pp. 2428–2432.
71 Deshpande, Satish, “Exclusive Inequalities: Merit, Caste and Discrimination in
Indian Higher Education Today”, Economic and Political Weekly, June 17, 2006,
pp. 2438–2444.
72 Deshpande, Satish and Yadav, Yogendra, “Redesigning Affirmative Action: Castes
and Benefits in Higher Education”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 41, No.
24, June 17–23, 2006, pp. 2419–2424.
73 Patnaik, Prabhat, “Challenges before Higher Education in Developing Societies”,
Social Scientist, Vol. 37, No. 7/8 Jul.–Aug. 2009, pp. 21–32.
74 N. Sukumar, op. cit. 2008, pp. 14–17.
75 Senthil Kumar Solidarity Committee, “Caste, Higher Education and Senthil’s
‘Suicide’”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43, No. 33 Aug. 16–22, 2008,
pp. 10–12.
76 Kurtz, Donald V. “The Last Institution Standing: Contradictions and the Politics
of Domination in an Indian University”, Journal of Anthropological Research,
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77 Tilak, J. B. G., Higher Education in India; In Search of Equality, Quality and
Quantity, Orient Blackswan, 2013.
78 Rao, S. Srinivas, “Structural Exclusion in Everyday Institutional Life: Labeling of
Stigmatized Groups in an IIT”, (ed) Geetha Nambissan and Srinivas Rao,
Sociology of Education in India: Trajectory, Location and Concerns, OUP, 2012,
pp. 199–200.
79 Apoorvanand, Introduction: Indian Education in Turmoil, Education at the
Crossroads, IIC Quarterly, Vol. 42, No. 3/4, Winter 2015–Spring 2016, pp. 1–7.
80 Deshpande Satish, “‘Weak’ Students and Elite Institutions: The Challenges of
Democratization in the Indian University, Indian Education in Turmoil, Educa-
tion at the Crossroads”, IIC Quarterly, Vol. 42, No. 3/4, Winter 2015–Spring
2016, pp. 131–142.
81 Thirumal P., “Dominant Bodies and their Ethical Performances: Violence of Caste
Embodiment in Higher Educational Institutions”, Economic and Political Weekly,
January 18, 2020, Vol. LV No. 3, pp. 36–40.
82 Vishwanathan, Shiv, op. cit. p. 3603.
83 S. Santhosh and Abraham Joshil K., “Caste Injustice in Jawaharlal Nehru Uni-
versity”, Economic and Political Weekly June 26, 2010. Vol. xlv, No. 26–27, p. 27.
84 Sandel, Michael, The Tyranny of Merit: What’s Become of the Common Good?
Penguin, 2020.
85 Sandel, Michael, op. cit. pp. 13–14.
86 Rao, Srinath, https://armchairjournal.com/ashoka-university-of-the-elite-for-the-elite-
by-the-elite/, Accessed June 26, 2020. Also refer Saikat, Majumdar, “Why Poor
Students Face Discrimination on Rich Campuses”, The Outlook, 4 November
2019. Accessed 10 November 2019.
87 Bauman, Zygmunt, Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Oxford, Wiley,
2004.
88 Kabeer, Naila, “Social Exclusion, Poverty and Discrimination: Towards an Ana-
lytical Framework,” IDS Bulletin 31, No. 4, 2000, https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com.
89 De Haan, Arjan, “Social Exclusion: Enriching the Understanding of Deprivation,”
Studies in Social and Political Thought, Vol. 2, No. 2, March 2, 2000, p. 28.
90 Verma, Vidhu, “Conceptualizing Social Exclusion: New Rhetoric or Transfor-
mative Politics?” Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 46, No. 50, Dec. 10, 2011,
pp. 89–97.
91 Garner, Philip, “Inclusion and Inclusions: Theories and Discourses in Inclusive
Education,” in World Yearbook of Education 1999: Inclusive Education, by Alan
Dyson and Harry Daniels, Routledge, pp. 36–51.
92 Abrams, Dominic, Hogg, Michael A., Marques, José M. The Social Psychology of
Inclusion and Exclusion, Psychology Press, New York, 2005.
93 UGC (Promotion of Equity in Higher Educational Institutions) Regulations 2012,
The Gazette of India, January 19, 2013, www.ugc.ac.in/pdfnews/8541429_English.
PDF p. 121.
94 Beall, Jo and Piron, Laure-Hélène, “DFID Social Exclusion Review”, report,
Department for International Development, 8, www.odi.org/sites/odi.org.uk/files/
odi-assets/publications-opinion-files/2301.pdf Accessed February 13, 2017.
95 Dani, Anis A. and De Haan, Arjan, “Social Policy in a Development Context:
Structural Inequalities and Inclusive Institutions”, in Inclusive States: Social Policy
and Structural Inequalities, Washington DC, World Bank, 2008, p. 32. Accessed
February 2013.
96 Nelson, Todd D., Handbook of Prejudice, Stereotyping, and Discrimination, New
York, Psychology Press, Taylor & Francis Group, 2009, pp. 89–90.
97 Kumar, Vivek, “Discrimination on Campuses of Higher Learning: A Perspective
from Below”, Economic and Political Weekly, February 6, 2016. Vol II, 12, No. 6.
98 N. Sukumar, “Gatecrashing the Gurukuls”, www.himalmag.com/gatecrashing-the-
gurukuls/, February 12, 2016, Accessed August 20, 2018.
99 Maurya Rakesh Kumar, “In Their Own Voices: Experiences of Dalit Students in
Higher Education Institutions”, International Journal of Multicultural Education,
Vol. 20, No. 3, 2018.
100 Rathod, Bharat, “Caste Conflicts on Campuses: Examining Diversity Research to
Transform Indian Universities into Inclusive Learning Spaces”, Journal of Social
Inclusion Studies, Indian Institute of Dalit Studies and Sage Publications, 2020,
pp. 1–18.
101 Vandana, “Dalit Girls and Sexual Harassment in the University”, Indian Journal of
Gender Studies, Sage Publications, February 27, Vol. 27, Issue 1, 2020.
102 John, Mary. E., “A Silent Revolution? Gender, Sexual Harassment and the
Democratisation of Higher Education”, India International Centre Quarterly,
Winter 2015–Spring 2016, Vol. 42, No. 3/4, Education at the Crossroads, Winter
2015–Spring 2016, pp. 183–194.
103 Prakash, Louis, “Social Exclusion: A Conceptual and Theoretical Framework,” 5,
www.pacsindia.org/assets/uploads/files/SocialExclusion.pdf Accessed 5 March 2018.
104 Munn, Pamela and Lloyd, Gwynedd, “Exclusion and Excluded Pupils”, British
Educational Research Journal 31, No. 2, 2005, pp. 205–221.
105 Berridge, David, Brodie, Isabelle, and Pitts, John, “The Independent Effects of
Permanent Exclusion from School on the Offending Careers of Young People”,
Great Britain, Home Office, Research, Development and Statistics Directorate,
2001, p. 7.
106 Vulliamy, Graham and Webb, Rosemary, “The Social Construction of School
Exclusion Rates: Implications for Evaluation Methodology,” Educational Studies, 27,
No. 3, 2001, https://sci-hub.se/https://doi.org/10.1080/03055690120076727 Accessed 23
September 2019.
107 Osler, Audrey, Watling, Rob, and Busher, Hugh, “Reasons for Exclusion from
School”, London, Dept. for Education and Employment, 2001, p. 17 https://eric.ed.
gov/?id=ED454335 Accessed 3 June 2019.
108 Gamoran, Adam, “Standards, Inequality & Ability Grouping in Schools,” 25 Sep-
tember 2002, p. 2. www.ces.ed.ac.uk/PDF%20Files/Brief025.pdf Accessed 3 June
2019.
109 Hallam, Susan, Ireson, Judith, and Davies, Jane, “Primary Pupils Experiences of
Different Types of Grouping in School,” British Educational Research Journal,
2004, 30, No. 4, p. 522.
110 Ibid, p. 521.
111 Todd, D. Nelson, 2009, op. cit.
112 Kaufmann, Paulus, Kuch, Hannes, Neuhäuser, Christian, Elaine Webster,
Humiliation, Degradation, Dehumanization: Human Dignity Violated, Springer,
London, 2011.
113 Twenge, Jean M., Catanese, Kathleen R. and Baumeister, Roy F. “Social Exclusion
and the Deconstructed State: Time Perception, Meaninglessness, Lethargy, Lack of
Emotion, and Self-Awareness”, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology
October 2003, 85(3), pp. 409–423.
114 Hoff, Karla and Pandey, Priyanka, “Economic Consequences of Social Identity:
Discrimination, Social Identity, and Durable Inequalities”, The American Eco-
nomic Review, Vol. 96, No. 2, May 2006, pp. 206–211.
115 Gaventa, John, “Finding the Spaces for Change: A Power Analysis”, Institute of
Development Studies Bulletin, February 2009, 37(6), pp. 23–33.
116 Majumdar, Saikat, “Why Poor Students Face Discrimination on Rich Campuses”,
Outlook Magazine, 4th November 2019.
117 Brighton, Eyben R., Kabeer, Naila, and Cornwall A., “Conceptualising Empower-
ment and the Implications for Pro Poor Growth, Institute of Development Studies,
2008”, https://gsdrc.org/document-library/conceptualising-empowerment-and-the-
implications-for-pro-poor-growth/ Accessed 10 August 2019.
118 Eyben, Rosalind, “Inequality as Process and Experience”, 2004, https://gsdrc.org/
document-library/inequality-as-process-and-experience/ Accessed 10 August 2019.
119 https://atrocitynews.wordpress.com/2008/11/24/caste-violence-in-drambedkar-law-
college-chennai-%E2%80%93-a-report/ Accessed 10 August 2019 Also refer www.
dailyo.in/politics/hcu-crackdown-podile-appa-rao-rohith-vemula-suicide-dalit-politics-
sc-st-atrocities-act-savarna-media-fact-finding-team-abvp-caste/story/1/9727.html
Accessed 10 August 2019.
120 Deshpande, Ashwini, The Grammar of Caste: Economic Discrimination in Con-
temporary India, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 2011.
121 Goffman, Erving, The Presentation of the Self in Everyday Life, Anchor Books,
London, 1959.
122 Patel, Tulsi, “Stigma Goes Backstage: Reservation in Jobs and Education”, Socio-
logical Bulletin, Vol. 57, No. 1, Jan.–April 2008, pp. 97–114.
123 Sayed, Yusuf, Soudien, Crain and Carrim, Nazir, “Discourses of Exclusion and
Inclusion in the South: Limits and Possibilities”, Journal of Educational Change,
Springer 2003, 4, pp. 231–248.
124 De Venanzi, Augusto, “Discursive and Social Practices in the Construction of
Exclusion: A Comparative Study”, Electronic Journal of Sociology, 2004, https://op
us.ipfw.edu/sociol_facpubs/18/ Accessed 5 January 2018.
125 Anveshi Law Committee, “Caste and the Metropolitan University”, Economic and
Political Weekly, March 23, 2002, pp. 1000–1003.
126 N. Sukumar, op. cit. 2008, pp. 14–17.
127 Palshikar, Sanjay and Patnaik, Arun Kumar, “Violence in the University: Defend-
ing the Indefensible”, Economic and Political Weekly, April 20, 2002, pp. 1490–91.
128 Anveshi Law Committee, op. cit.
129 Thorat Committee Report, www.nlhmb.in/Reports%20AIIMS.pdf p. 74. Accessed
20 June 2010. Also, refer to the Committee Constituted by the Hon’ble Supreme
Court of India in SLP No. 24295 of 2006, https://indiankanoon.org/doc/12931539/
Accessed 30 June 2010.
130 N. Sukumar, 2008, op. cit. pp. 14–17.
131 Deshpande, Satish, Economic and Political Weekly, 2013, op. cit.
132 Palshikar, Sanjay and Patnaik, Arun Kumar, Economic and Political Weekly, 2002,
op. cit.
133 Bhabha, Homi, “On Writing Rights”, Gibney M. J. (ed) Globalizing Rights: The
Oxford Amnesty Lectures 1999, OUP, 2003, p. 180.
134 Thorat, S. K., K. M. Shyam Prasad and Srivastava R. K., “Report of the Com-
mittee to Enquire into the Allegation of Differential Treatment of SC/ST Students
in All India Institute of Medical Science”, Delhi, 2007.
135 File Number F. 1–7/2011 (SCT), Issued by University Grants Commission, New
Delhi, www.ugc.ac.in/pdfnews/4509037_UGC-Letter_SCT-2019.pdf Accessed 20
July 2019.
136 http://thedeathofmeritinindia.wordpress.com/ Accessed 30 June 2019.
137 “Student Deaths a National Loss”, Economic and Political Weekly, Editorial, Vol. 54,
No. 46, 23 November 2019. Also refer, www.sabrangindia.in/article/75000-student-
suicides-between-2007-and-2016-india Accessed 20 June 2020.
138 Ibid, Economic and Political Weekly.
139 The Hindu, 6 Feb., 2013, www.thehindu.com/news/national/other-states/violence-
rocks-dalit-hostel-as-patna-varsity-looks-the-other-way/article4386165.ece Acces-
sed 20 January 2017.
140 This is part of a police statement given by a SC student residing in the Bhimrao
Ambedkar Welfare Hostel of Patna University (PU) facility. Gaikwad Rahi, The
Hindu, Feb. 6, 2013.
141 JNUSU Note on Viva Voice, www.aisa.in/wp-content/uploads/JNUSU-Note-On-VI
VA-marks-Reduction.pdf, Accessed February. 25, 2016.
142 UGC Regulations 2012, The Gazette of India, op. cit., January 19, 2013.
143 Online portals like roundtableindia.co.in which is a platform for anti-caste politics,
Livewire in The Wire which discusses campus and student lives to name a few.
144 Smith, Jonathan A., Flowers, Paul, Larkin, Michael, Interpretative Phenomenological
Analysis: Theory, Method and Research, Sage Publications, 2009, pp. 53, 54.
2 Dalits and Higher Education in India
A Fact Sheet
The Idea of a University

Universities as institutions give concrete expression to both social and intellec-
tual commitment. Their function is not only to create space for dialogue and
dissent but to make that dissent universal. Dissenting voices and dialogical
spirits on university campuses are considered universal both in terms of their
promise for epistemic egalitarianism and social democracy, and the universal
articulation of such promises. Any attempt to tamper with these promises is
bound to generate legitimate forms of protests. The public universities have a
responsibility to cater to the needs of the underprivileged students. Such uni-
versities are spaces where the underprivileged students can convert opportunities
into assets.1
It is necessary to recognize that the present approach towards higher edu-
cation is governed by the National Policy on Education of 1986 and Program
of Action of 1992. The 1986 policy and action plan of 1992 were based on
the two landmark reports namely, the University Education Commission of
1948–49 (popularly known as the Radhakrishnan Commission), and the Edu-
cation Commission of 1964–66, (popularly known as the Kothari Commission
Report). These two landmark reports laid down the basic framework for the
National Policy for Higher Education in the country. The University Education
Report had set goals for development of higher education in the country.2
While articulating these goals, the Radhakrishnan Commission on University
Education, 1948–49 put it in following words:
The most important and urgent reform needed in education is to

transform it, to endeavour to relate it to the life, needs and aspirations
of the people and thereby make it the powerful instrument of social,
economic and cultural transformation necessary for the realization of
the national goals. For this purpose, education should be developed so
as to increase productivity, achieve social and national integration,
accelerate the process of modernization and cultivate social, moral and
spiritual values.3
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-2
Dalits and Higher Education in India 43
The National Policy on Higher Education of 1986 translates this vision of
Radhakrishnan and the Kothari Commission into five principles or goals for
higher education, which include Greater Access, Equal Access (or Equity),
Quality and Excellence, Relevance and Promotion of Social Values.
Universities are ideal institutions that cultivate and nurture with great care a
creative mind that has a dual commitment to social causes and to incisive
scholarship.4 It is supposed to be sensitive to a creative mind and should be
committed to allowing diverse ideas to flourish and flow both within and across
its immediate institutional boundaries. Educational systems are designed to
produce the particular kinds of individuals needed by society. They are also
designed to organize, sort and screen out those who don’t seem to have the
required attributes. The ‘progress’ metaphor plays an important role in making
this possible. The discipline of education is framed by a model of learning that
mirrors the scientific model of knowledge building. Important concepts are built
up, step by step, one on top of or next to the other, in a logical, sequential,
linear way. These concepts are thought of as being like things, concrete objects
that can build on, and be added to, other objects, like bricks in a wall. This
building process eventually leads to the development of some sort of complete
understanding of a discipline, social norms or ways of belonging. Along the
way, educationists measure the extent to which learners have managed to build
these concepts, the extent to which they ‘know’, or ‘have’ these concepts, or can
‘do’ certain things requiring an understanding of them. This information is then
used to assess the learners’ overall progress and, by implication, their general
‘ability’ relative to certain norms. Some learners ‘measure up’ and are allowed
to go on to ‘higher’ forms of education designed to further develop or ‘bring
out’ their capacity to be fully rational, autonomous individuals. The others who
do not ‘have what it takes’ are screened out, and, in the process, pathologized
because they do not and cannot ever become the fully functioning individual of
modern thought.5 Such instances are frequently witnessed when women and
SCs are shunted out of STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathe-
matics) courses or when SCs are considered only capable for ‘food courses’.6
The disciplinary division is clearly visible in the government statistics when
enrolment to PG courses in social sciences and sciences are compared. This
excludes allied science disciplines and other professional courses where numbers
of SC/ST students are negligible.
This chapter includes the data from the All India Survey of Higher Education
(AISHE), an annual survey conducted by the Ministry of Education since 2010–
2011. The survey covers all institutions in the country engaged in imparting
higher education. Data is being collected on several parameters such as tea-
chers, student enrolment, programmes, examination results, education, finance
and infrastructure. The indicators of educational development such as Institu-
tion Density, Gross Enrolment Ratio, Pupil-Teacher Ratio, Gender Parity Index
and Per Student Expenditure has also been calculated from the data collected
through AISHE.7 Certain categories of institutions, like State Public and Open
University, State Private University and Institutes under State Legislative Act,
Deemed University, Government Aided Deemed University, Private and Others
(in Tables 2.3, 2.4, 2.11, 2.12 and 2.13) have been merged to make it convenient
for data interpretation.
According to Table 2.1, compared with the national average, the higher
education GER is higher in some states such as Tamil Nadu (40%), Delhi
(38.9%), Uttarakhand (31.1%) and Andhra Pradesh (29.9%). However, these
states reflect a higher proportion in index of inequality compared to states
where GER is less; Jharkhand (9.9%), Chhattisgarh (10.5%) and Bihar (12.5%).
Among the states like Rajasthan (male 20.6% and female 15.5%), Andhra Pra-
desh (male 33.3% and female 26.4%) and Maharashtra (male 28.1% and female
24.3%) have reported higher gender difference of GER among all categories.
Kerala is the only state which has reported higher female GER in all categories
(female 25.6% and male 17.8%) as well as SC category (female 21.8% and male
12%). Other states which reflect a marginal increase in GER among SC cate-
gory females is Uttar Pradesh (female 13.2% and male 12.6%) and Punjab
(female 8.8% and male 8%).
Table 2.2 shows that population of SCs in comparison with other categories
has remained mostly unchanged till 2018–19. However, the gross enrolment of
SCs has showed remarkable change. In Uttar Pradesh, SC enrolment increased
from 12.9% to 24% when compared to all other categories which increased
from 17.4% to 25.8%. The SC enrolment has doubled and the gap between SCs
and other categories enrolment is marginal. Interestingly, for SC girls, the
enrolment has jumped from 13.2% in 2011–12 to 26.4% in 2018–19. During her
tenure as Chief Minister from 2007–12, Ms. Mayawati had introduced schemes
targeting adolescent girls. These schemes were aimed at empowering girls in the
state of Uttar Pradesh. Under the Savitri Bai Phule Balika Shiksha Madad
Yojana, the government would give Rs. 25,000 and a bicycle each, to girls from
families living below the poverty line. This scheme was available for girls
between the classes of XI and XII.8 Another change in SC enrolment can be
witnessed in Tamil Nadu. In 2011–12, the enrolment of SCs was 28.5% when
compared with other categories (40%). Whereas in 2018–19, the data reflects
the former has increased to 41.6% while the latter is at 49%. The SC enrolment
has doubled in Tamil Nadu in a decade. In Kerala, known for its vibrant lit-
eracy programs the statistics reflect that SCs have only partially benefited by
such programs. In 2011–12, SCs enrolment was 16.9% when compared to all
other categories which stood at 21.8%. In 2018–19, the latter’s enrolment data
showed a jump of 15.2% (overall 37%) whereas for SCs the shift is visible but
is only 9% (overall 25.9%). SCs in Kerala continue to lag behind other com-
munities in accessing higher education despite the much lauded ‘Kerala Model’.
Similarly, programs like Beti Bachao Beti Padhao seem to have given a boost
to female GER in all categories and also SCs in Haryana. In 2011–12, the GER
of males of all categories stood at 28.3% and females was 27.7%. For SC males
it was 18.3% and 16.6% for females. There has been a significant change in
2018–19 particularly in the context of female GER among all categories and
also SC females. All other category male GER dropped to 26.5% (2011–12)
Table 2.1 A Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: (Comparison of SC and all Categories. Selected States, 2011–12)
Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: Comparison of Scheduled Caste and All Categories, Selected States, 2011–12
Index of Inequality = ((SC-GER/All-GER) *100); Numbers greater than 100 shows that SC GER is higher than All Categories GER
All Categories (GER %) Scheduled Castes (SC) (GER %) Index of Inequality Pop.of scs (counts,1000s) Pop.total
STATES/UTs* Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Femal Total %
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14)
Gujarat 18.1 14.7 16.5 18.3 15.1 16.8 101.1 102.7 101.8 267.7 237.3 505 2.2
Maharashtra 28.1 24.3 26.3 25.7 22 23.9 91.5 90.5 90.9 872.8 794.2 1,666.90 7.2
Andhra Pradesh 33.3 26.4 29.9 28.2 22.9 25.6 84.7 86.7 85.6 535.5 540.6 1,076.10 4.7
Assam 14.6 14.8 14.7 12.8 12.2 12.5 87.7 82.4 85 139.4 134.7 274.1 1.2
Kerala 17.8 25.6 21.8 12 21.8 16.9 67.4 85.2 77.5 142.9 144 287 1.2
Chhattisgarh 11 10.1 10.5 8.8 7.3 8.1 80 72.3 77.1 202.1 197.5 399.6 1.7
Uttar Pradesh 17.5 17.2 17.4 12.6 13.2 12.9 72 76.7 74.1 2,617.20 2,149.40 4,766.70 21
Tamil Nadu 43.2 36.8 40 30.3 26.7 28.5 70.1 72.6 71.3 841.1 862.8 1,703.90 7.4
Madhya Pradesh 22 14.6 18.5 13.7 10.9 12.4 62.3 74.7 67 747.3 625.9 1,373.20 6
Karnataka 24.9 22.7 23.8 17.5 14.2 15.8 70.3 62.6 66.4 676.1 652.9 1,329.00 5.8
West Bengal 15.4 11.8 13.6 10.2 7.6 9 66.2 64.4 66.2 1,369.40 1,315.50 2,684.90 12
Rajasthan 20.6 15.5 18.2 14.1 9.3 11.8 68.4 60 64.8 812.8 704.9 1,517.70 6.6
Haryana 28.3 27.7 28 18.3 16.6 17.5 64.7 59.9 62.5 368.2 306.3 674.5 2.9
Bihar 14 10.8 12.5 9.4 6.1 7.8 67.1 56.5 62.4 809.5 756.5 1,566.00 6.8
Jharkhand 10.2 9.5 9.9 6.5 4.9 5.8 63.7 51.6 58.6 220.9 206.1 426.9 1.9
Himachal Pradesh 24.6 25.1 24.8 13.9 13.9 13.9 56.5 55.4 56 102.8 100.9 203.7 0.9
Odisha 18.3 15 16.6 10 8.4 9.2 54.6 56 55.4 412.6 417.8 830.4 3.6
Uttarakhand 30.1 32.3 31.1 17.1 17.2 17.2 56.8 53.3 55.3 120.8 115.2 236 1
Dalits and Higher Education in India
Delhi 38.9 39 38.9 19.7 17 18.5 50.6 43.6 47.6 213 183.6 396.6 1.7
Punjab 22.4 23.6 23 8 8.8 8.4 35.7 37.3 36.5 614.8 533.1 1,147.90 5
45
All India (GER) 22.1 19.4 20.8 15.8 13.9 14.9 71.5 71.6 71.6 12,086.90 10,979.30 23,066.20 100
Source: Cols. 11, 12 & 13: Census of India, 2011; remaining cols.: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2011–12.
* Only major states with significant Scheduled Caste population are considered.
Table 2.2 Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: (Comparison of SC and all Categories. Selected States, 2018–19)
Gross Enrolment Ratio in Higher Education: Comparison of Scheduled Caste and All Categories, Selected States, 2018–19
Index of Inequality = ((SC-GER/All-GER) *100); Numbers greater than 100 shows that SC GER is higher than All Categories GER
46
All Categories (GER %) Scheduled Castes (SC) (GER%) Index of Inequality Pop.of scs (counts,1000s) Pop.total
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Femal Total %
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14)
Gujarat 22 18.7 20.4 28.8 24.9 26.9 130.9 133.2 131.9 267.7 237.3 505 2.2
Assam 19.1 18.3 18.7 21.2 20 20.6 111 109.3 110.2 139.4 134.7 274.1 1.2
Maharashtra 33.5 30.3 32 31.9 30.4 31.2 95.2 100.3 97.5 872.8 794.2 1,666.90 7.2
Telangana 35.8 36.5 36.2 30.9 36.4 33.7 86.3 99.7 93.1 0 0 0 0
Uttar Pradesh 24.2 27.5 25.8 21.9 26.4 24 90.5 96 93 2,617.20 2,149.40 4,766.70 20.7
MadhyaPradesh 21.8 21.2 21.5 20 19.4 19.7 19.7 91.5 91.6 747.3 625.9 1,373.20 6
Odisha 24.2 20 22.1 22.8 17.3 20 94.2 86.5 90.5 412.6 417.8 830.4 3.6
Andhra Pradesh 35.8 29 32.4 31.5 26.4 28.9 88 91 89.2 535.5 540.6 1,076.10 4.7
Rajasthan 23.1 23 23 20.6 19.2 20 89.2 83.5 87 812.8 704.9 1,517.70 6.6
Tamil Nadu 49.8 48.3 49 41.4 41.7 41.6 83.1 86.3 84.9 841.1 862.8 1,703.90 7.4
JharKhand 19.5 18.7 19.1 17 14.8 15.9 87.2 79.1 83.2 220.9 206.1 426.9 1.9
Uttarakhand 39.2 39.1 39.1 29.3 30.7 30 74.7 78.5 76.7 120.8 115.2 236 1
HimachalPradesh 34.7 44.9 39.6 25.6 33.3 29.4 73.8 74.2 74.2 102.8 100.9 203.7 0.9
Bihar 15.1 12 13.6 12.7 7.4 10 84.1 61.7 73.5 809.5 756.5 1,566.00 6.8
Delhi 43.2 50 46.3 31.8 36.3 33.9 73.6 72.6 73.2 213 183.6 396.6 1.7
West Bengal 20 18.7 19.3 14.7 13.6 14.1 73.5 72.7 73.1 1,369.40 1,315.50 2,684.90 11.6
Karnataka 28.2 29.4 28.8 21.2 20.9 21 75.2 71.1 72.9 676.1 652.9 1,329.00 5.8
Punjab 25.5 34.3 29.5 17.8 25.2 21.1 69.8 73.5 71.5 614.8 533.1 1,147.90 5
Kerala 30.8 43.2 37 18.2 33.7 25.9 59.1 78 70 142.9 144 287 1.2
Haryana 26.5 32.4 29.2 18.3 22 20 69.1 67.9 68.5 368.2 306.3 674.5 2.9
Chhattisgarh 18.1 19.2 18.6 18.1 18.6 18.3 100 96.9 98.4 202.1 197.5 399.6 1.7
All India 26.3 26.4 26.3 22.7 23.3 23.0 86.3 88.3 87.5 12,086.90 10,979.30 23,066.20 100
* Only major states with significant Scheduled Caste population are considered.
from 28.3% in 2018–19; and for females, it increased 4.7% from 27.7% (2011–
12) to 32.4%, in 2018–19. A close perusal of the tables 2011–12 and 2018–19
reflect the increase in GER of SC females in the states of Telangana and
Chhattisgarh. In Punjab, GER of all category male and female stood at 22.4%
and 23.6% respectively for 2011–12. By 2018–19, the all category female enrol-
ment jumped to 34.3%, a rise of 10.7%. Similarly, for SC males and females,
the GER was at 8% and 8.8% respectively in 2011–12, which improved to SC
male 17.8% and female 25.2% by 2018–19. The Punjab government had intro-
duced Post Matric Scholarships, Encouragement Awards to SC girl students for
pursuing 10+2 Education9 (State Plan Scheme), which was implemented from
2008. Such welfare measures played a positive role in promoting female education.
Table 2.3 and Table 2.4 reflect the impact that privatization has had on
the higher education scenario in India. These phenomena can be witnessed
more amongst all the other categories that are able to access private educa-
tion because of their socio-cultural and financial capital. There was a time
when central universities carried a high aspirational value but the data from
the above tables tell a different story. In 2011–12, all other categories
enrolment (including male and female) in central universities stood at 555
per thousand. The corresponding figures for SCs (including male and
female) was 51.6 per thousand. By 2018–19, the figure for the former stood
at 704.6 per thousand and the latter was at 97.3 per thousand. This also
reflects the paltry implementation of reservations at the enrolment level. The
latter’s lack of financial capability to access central universities would have
been another reason as most of these institutions are located in metropolitan
cities. On the contrary, the SC (including male and female) enrolment in
Central Open University stood at 131.7 per thousand in 2018–19, whereas in
2011–12, it was only 34.6 per thousand.
Significant changes can be found in the enrolment figures in State Public and
Open Universities for all categories. The male enrolment went down from
1979.4 in 2011–12 to 1914.9 in 2018–19. The female enrolment went up from
1377.8 in 2011–12 to 1647.5 in 2018–19. Similarly, for SC males, enrolment
went down from 254.9 in 2011–12 to 250 in 2018–19. For SC females, the fig-
ures went up from 183.6 in 2011–12 to 205 in 2018–19.
The impact of privatization is visible in the data for all categories including
SCs. The high enrolment figures also reflect the gradual shift from public to
private education. Among SCs, the bureaucratic, service and petty business
people are able to access private education, though not in numbers compar-
able to all other categories. In 2011–12, only 7.7 SC males per thousand and
2.8 SC females per thousand enrolled in private institutions. There was a
drastic change by 2018–19, when SC male enrolment increased to 55.9 and SC
female to 28.1. Similarly, in 2011–12 for all other category, male were 193.9
per thousand and for female 78.3 per thousand. It increased to 761.5 for
males and 400.7 for females in 2018–19. Similar trends are also visible in the
last two columns, which deal with deemed universities, government and pri-
vate and other institutions.
48
Table 2.3 Category Wise Enrolment of Students in Various Types of Universities/Institutions 2011–12
Category‐wise Enrolment in Various Types of Universities, All India 2011–12
Types of Universities All Categories Students Scheduled Castes Students Percentage of SCs Students
(counts*1000s) (counts*1000s)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male (%) Female Total (%)
(%)
Central University 309.2 245.8 555.0 31.2 20.4 51.6 10.1 8.3 9.3
Central Open University 310.3 223.0 533.3 21.7 13.0 34.6 7.0 5.8 6.5
Institute of National 91.7 19.7 111.4 11.5 2.5 14.0 12.6 12.7 12.6
Importance
State Public & Open 1,979.4 1,377.8 3,357.2 254.9 183.6 438.6 12.9 13.3 13.1
University
State Private University 193.9 78.3 272.2 7.7 2.8 10.5 4.0 3.6 3.9
and Institute Under

State Legislature Act
Deemed and Govern- 86.4 46.8 133.1 6.8 3.9 10.7 7.9 8.3 8.0
ment Aided (Deemed)
University
Deemed University Pri- 351.6 202.5 554.1 9.5 5.7 15.2 2.7 2.8 2.7
vate and Others
All India 3,322.5 2,193.8 5,516.3 343.3 231.9 575.2 10.3 10.6 10.4
Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2011–12.

Table 2.4 Category Wise Enrolment of Students in Various Types of Universities/Institutions 2018–19
Category‐wise Enrolment in Various Types of Universities, All India 2018–19
Types of Universities All Categories Students Scheduled Castes Students Percentage of SCs Students
(counts*1000s) (counts*1000s)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male (%) Female Total (%)
(%)
Central University 370.8 333.8 704.6 49.0 48.3 97.3 13.2 14.5 13.8
Central Open University 576.2 458.9 1,035.1 78.5 53.1 131.7 13.6 11.6 12.7
Institute of National 173.8 54.7 228.4 23.8 6.6 30.5 13.7 12.1 13.3
Importance
State Public & Open 1,914.9 1,647.5 3,562.4 250.0 205.0 455.0 13.1 12.4 12.8
University
State Private University 761.5 400.7 1,162.2 55.9 28.1 83.9 7.3 7.0 7.2
and Institute Under
State Legislature Act.
Deemed and Govern- 53.9 43.3 97.2 5.4 4.5 9.9 10.1 10.4 10.2
ment Aided (Deemed)
University
Deemed University Pri- 421.1 275.8 696.9 23.1 15.1 38.2 5.5 5.5 5.5
vate and Others
All India 4,272.0 3,214.8 7,486.8 485.7 360.9 846.6 11.4 11.2 11.3

49
Tables 2.5 and 2.6 are based on the year wise enrolment data in Doctor of
Philosophy 2011–12 to 2018–19. The data reveals only a marginal increase in
the enrolment of SC students both male and female per thousand. The non-
implementation of reservations is very evident. In addition, doctoral research
should be incentivized for SC students through scholarships and other measures
as often they lack finances to pursue higher education.
Across all categories and SC (both male and female), the enrolment for
MPhil does not reflect any significant change. In 2011–12 for all categories, the
Table 2.5 Doctor of Philosophy (PhD) Year Wise Details (per thousand)
Enrolment Data for the Doctor of Philosophy Degree, All India, 2011–12 to 2018–19
Year All Categories Students Scheduled Castes Students Percentage of SCs
(counts, 1000s) (counts, 1000s) Students (%)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Female Total
(%) (%) (%)
2011–12 47.2 31.3 78.5 4.5 2.4 6.9 9.5 7.6 8.8
2012–13 52.9 38.4 91.3 5.3 2.9 8.2 10 7.7 9
2013–14 62.4 42.2 104.5 6.0 3.3 9.3 9.7 7.8 8.9
2014–15 67.7 47.0 114.7 6.4 3.7 10.1 9.5 7.8 8.8
2015–16 72.5 51.0 123.5 7.0 4.2 11.2 9.7 8.2 9.1
2016–17 79.9 58.4 138.2 7.9 4.6 12.6 9.9 8 9.1
2017–18 90.4 67.9 158.4 10.3 5.8 16.1 11.4 8.5 10.2
2018–19 93.4 73.2 166.6 10.4 6.6 17.1 11.1 9.1 10.2
Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.
Table 2.6 Master of Philosophy (MPhil) Year Wise Details (per thousand)
Enrolment Data for the Master of Philosophy Degree, All India, 2011–12 to 2018–19
(%) (%) (%)
2011–12 15.3 17.9 33.2 2.8 2.4 5.2 18.6 13.1 15.6
2012–13 13.2 17.0 30.2 2.4 2.4 4.8 18.6 13.8 15.9
2013–14 13.6 17.7 31.4 2.6 2.6 5.1 18.8 14.6 16.4
2014–15 14.1 19.3 33.4 2.8 2.9 5.6 19.5 15 16.9
2015–16 17.5 25.1 42.5 3.5 4.0 7.4 19.7 15.9 17.5
2016–17 16.5 26.8 43.3 3.6 4.1 7.6 21.7 15.2 17.6
2017–18 12.3 21.8 34.1 2.7 3.4 6.2 22.4 15.8 18.1
2018–19 11.6 19.1 30.7 2.3 2.7 5.0 19.6 14.2 16.3

figure was 15.3 for males and 17.9 for females. It increased to 17.5 in 2015–16
and further reduced to 11.6 in 2018–19. The figures for females of all categories
show a similar trend. Among SC males and females also, this trend is visible. In
many state universities after Master’s, students can directly seek admission into
PhD as MPhil is not offered. A similar situation prevailed in sciences and pro-
fessional courses in many central universities.
Table 2.7 reflects that MA courses are more preferred by SC students for
both males and females. The figures for SC males were 71.7 and 73.7 in
2011–12, which increased to 106.2 in 2017–18 and reduced to 99.7 in 2018–19.
For SC females, it rose to 141.3 in 2018–19. A similar trend can also be seen
in the figures of all category males. Among all category females, there is a
doubling of enrolment from 571.1 in 2011–12 to 934.6 in 2018–19. There are
various reasons as to why arts courses reflect a high proportion of SC stu-
dents. The courses are more accessible, affordable and many a time offered
in local languages.
In MSc, the proportion of SC students (both male and female) is less com-
pared to all categories for both male and female students. In the latter, the ratio
of female enrolment is high and doubled from 234.8 in 2011–12 to 437.3 in
2018–19, as reflected in Table 2.8. For SC females, there was an increase from
24.3 in 2011–12 to 49 in 2018–19. The mushrooming of private institutions
offering engineering and other professional courses is reflected in the decline of
male students of all categories and SC students in opting for MSc. The figures
in 2018–19 stood at 259.9 and 33.9 respectively.
As Table 2.9 states, for SC students both males and females, MCom is the
least preferred option. In 2011–12, the figure for SC males was 11.3, which went
up to 19.2 in 2018–19. Similarly, for SC females, it was 11.3 in 2011–12 and
Table 2.7 Master of Arts (MA), Year Wise Details (per thousand)
Enrolment Data for the Master of Arts Degree, All India, 2011–12 to 2018–19
Year All Categories Students Scheduled Castes Students Percentage of SCs Students
(counts, 1000s) (counts, 1000s) (%)
(%) (%) (%)
2011–12 462.6 571.1 1,033.6 71.7 73.7 145.5 15.5 12.9 14.1
2012–13 496.9 645.5 1,142.4 76.2 84.0 160.2 15.3 13 14
2013–14 589.4 787.1 1,376.5 88.5 98.0 186.6 15 12.5 13.6
2014–15 605.4 842.8 1,448.2 93.7 113.6 207.2 15.5 13.5 14.3
2015–16 603.3 922.2 1,525.5 98.1 127.0 225.2 16.3 13.8 14.8
2016–17 621.8 952.2 1,574.0 98.4 127.1 225.6 15.8 13.4 14.3
2017–18 660.0 919.1 1,579.1 106.2 133.3 239.5 16.1 14.5 15.2
2018–19 578.2 934.6 1,512.8 99.7 141.3 241.0 17.3 15.1 15.9

Table 2.8 Master of Science, (MSc) Year Wise Details (per thousand)
Enrolment Data for the Master of Science Degree, All India, 2011–12 to 2018–19
(%) (%) (%)
2011–12 209.2 234.8 443.9 25.7 24.3 50.0 12.3 10.3 11.2
2012–13 219.9 262.8 482.8 26.1 27.0 53.1 11.9 10.3 11
2013–14 240.5 306.5 547.0 29.0 30.3 59.3 12 10 10.8
2014–15 245.2 337.4 582.6 30.3 35.2 65.4 12.4 10.4 11.2
2015–16 248.8 364.6 613.4 33.1 41.1 74.1 13.3 11.3 12.1
2016–17 267.7 409.1 676.8 37.4 47.9 85.3 14 11.7 12.6
2017–18 278.7 432.4 711.2 35.8 48.7 84.5 12.8 11.2 11.9
2018–19 259.9 437.3 697.2 33.9 49.0 82.9 13 11.2 11.9
Table 2.9 Master of Commerce, (MCom) Year Wise Details (per thousand)
Enrolment Data for the Master of Commerce Degree, All India, 2011–12 to 2018–19
Year All Categories Students Scheduled Castes Students Percentage of SCs Students
(counts, 1000s) (counts, 1000s) (%)
(%) (%) (%)
2011–12 100.3 111.5 211.8 11.3 11.3 22.6 11.3 10.1 10.7
2012–13 107.2 134.2 241.4 11.2 11.5 22.7 10.5 8.6 9.4
2013–14 147.5 187.7 335.2 14.2 15.2 29.4 9.7 8.1 8.8
2014–15 156.0 209.2 365.1 16.2 18.7 34.9 10.4 9 9.6
2015–16 172.8 246.4 419.2 17.9 21.4 39.3 10.4 8.7 9.4
2016–17 178.4 268.4 446.8 20.1 24.4 44.5 11.3 9.1 10
2017–18 188.8 270.5 459.3 21.0 26.4 47.5 11.2 9.8 10.3
2018–19 170.0 280.2 450.3 19.2 27.9 47.2 11.3 10 10.5
increased to 27.9 in 2018–2019. For all category females, the figure stood at
111.5 in 2011–12 and jumped to 280.2 in 2018–19.
All the three Tables 2.7, 2.8, 2.9 reflects the high enrolment of female stu-
dents compared to males across all courses from 2011–12 to 2018–19. Though
the fact that female students across all categories and SCs are accessing higher
education needs to be appreciated, the cultural barriers still remain. There is
very little representation of female students in STEM courses.
The states of Andhra Pradesh, Maharashtra and Tamil Nadu shows high
recruitment of teachers among all categories, was at 163.91, 153.47 and 168.96,
both male and female per thousand, in 2011–12 respectively. Similar figures for
SC both males and females per thousand stood at 17.69, 16.24 and 14.10
respectively. Despite being the national capital, Delhi only had 8.19 males and
8.86 females per thousand as teachers. For SCs, the figure stood at 0.66 for
males and 0.44 for females per thousand. Interestingly, in Uttar Pradesh, tea-
chers’ recruitment among all category males was 87.97 per thousand whereas
female recruitment was less than half, 42 per thousand. The apathy shown to
teachers’ recruitment among SC males and females is evident in the data when
UP has the highest SC population in the country. For SC males, the figure was
5.52 and 1.90 among females per thousand. The worst performing state in this
regard is Bihar, where SC males were recruited at 0.38 and females at 0.09 per
thousand.
Like the previous table (Table 2.10), here also, the states of Andhra Pradesh,
Telangana and Tamil Nadu reflect an upward trend among all categories
including SCs when it comes to teachers’ recruitment. In Maharashtra, there
was a dip in all category male from 97.03 in 2011–12 to 94.7 in 2018–19 per
thousand. Among females, the number rose to 64.47 per from 56.44 per thou-
sand in the corresponding period. Similarly, for SC males it increased to only
0.58 in 2018–19 and among SC females, it rose to 1.28 per thousand. In a state
which boasts of a vibrant Dalit movement, unfortunately this has not enabled
the recruitment of SC candidates as teachers. In Kerala, the female teacher
recruitment among all categories showed an increase of 11.92 per thousand
whereas the corresponding figures of SC females were a mere 0.66 per thousand
in 2018–19.
The abysmal figures for SC teachers’ recruitment (both male and female)
reflect the tardy implementation of reservations in all the states. This is also
combined with the privatization and contractualization of higher education.
When the data reveals that women of all categories, including SCs are accessing
higher education, they are unable to find gainful employment in academia due
to state policies. The data also highlights the gendered nature of socio-economic
inequalities amongst all the categories including SCs in the states. To illustrate,
in Bihar only 5.56 per thousand women, among all categories were recruited as
teachers compared to 20.89 per thousand males in 2018–19. For the former,
there is a marginal increase of 0.01 (from 5.55 per thousand in 2011–12)
whereas for males the number reduced from 22.86 per thousand in 2011–12 to
20.89 per thousand in 2018–19. Apparently, the state is not investing in
improving the quality of education.
Both the above Tables 2.12 and 2.13 focus on the number of teachers
recruited from all categories and SCs (both male and female per thousand),
which also reflect the implementation of reservation across different institu-
tions. In 2018–19, there has been an increase in SC teachers (both male and
female per thousand) in central universities; 924 males and 274 females, com-
pared to 548 males and 169 females in 2011–12. A similar trend is witnessed in
54
Table 2.10 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2011–12

State-wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education (All categories and Scheduled Caste), Selected States and UTs (2011–12)
States and UTs* All Categories (Count, 1000s) SC Teachers (Count, 1000s) Percentage of SC Teachers Population of Scheduled
Caste (Count,100,000s)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Female Total Male Female Total
(%) (%) (%)
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13)
Andhra Pradesh 105.13 58.77 163.91 10.63 7.06 17.69 10.1 12.0 10.8 69.1 69.7 138.8
Maharashtra 97.03 56.44 153.47 11.28 4.97 16.24 11.6 8.8 10.6 67.7 65.1 132.8
Tamil Nadu 89.95 79.01 168.96 8.03 6.07 14.10 8.9 7.7 8.3 72.0 72.3 144.4
Himachal 4.89 3.35 8.23 0.38 0.18 0.56 7.8 5.4 6.8 8.8 8.5 17.3
Pradesh
Karnataka 72.00 49.54 121.54 5.38 2.50 7.88 7.5 5.0 6.5 52.6 52.1 104.7
Delhi 8.19 8.86 17.04 0.66 0.44 1.10 8.0 5.0 6.4 14.9 13.2 28.1
Madhya 35.39 22.63 58.02 2.37 1.04 3.42 6.7 4.6 5.9 59.1 54.3 113.4
Pradesh
Rajasthan 37.06 21.01 58.07 2.60 0.74 3.34 7.0 3.5 5.8 63.6 58.7 122.2
Uttar Pradesh 87.97 42.00 129.97 5.52 1.90 7.42 6.3 4.5 5.7 216.8 196.8 413.6
Assam 13.73 8.22 21.95 0.77 0.46 1.23 5.6 5.6 5.6 11.5 10.9 22.3
West Bengal 27.50 13.66 41.16 1.72 0.54 2.26 6.2 4.0 5.5 110.0 104.6 214.6
Uttarakhand 8.18 4.26 12.44 0.46 0.17 0.63 5.6 4.0 5.0 9.7 9.2 18.9
Chhattisgarh 8.53 6.54 15.07 0.48 0.25 0.74 5.7 3.9 4.9 16.4 16.3 32.7
Gujarat 28.70 15.13 43.83 1.53 0.58 2.10 5.3 3.8 4.8 21.1 19.6 40.7
State-wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education (All categories and Scheduled Caste), Selected States and UTs (2011–12)
States and UTs* All Categories (Count, 1000s) SC Teachers (Count, 1000s) Percentage of SC Teachers Population of Scheduled
Caste (Count,100,000s)
(%) (%) (%)
Haryana 22.67 18.20 40.87 1.10 0.56 1.66 4.8 3.1 4.0 27.1 24.0 51.1
Punjab 20.97 20.04 41.01 0.93 0.70 1.63 4.4 3.5 4.0 46.4 42.2 88.6
Odisha 25.50 10.93 36.43 0.76 0.28 1.03 3.0 2.5 2.8 36.2 35.7 71.9
Kerala 20.20 24.37 44.57 0.58 0.63 1.21 2.9 2.6 2.7 14.8 15.6 30.4
Jharkhand 6.05 2.09 8.13 0.16 0.05 0.21 2.6 2.3 2.6 20.4 19.4 39.9
Bihar 22.86 5.55 28.41 0.38 0.09 0.47 1.7 1.7 1.7 86.1 79.6 165.7
All India 742.48 470.60 1,213.08 55.70 29.19 84.89 7.5 6.2 7.0 1,024.2 968.0 1,992.2
* Only major states and UTs with significant Scheduled Caste populations are considered.
55
56
Table 2.11 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2018–19

State-wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education (All categories and Scheduled Caste), Selected States and UTs(2018–19)
States and UTs* All Categories (Count, 1000s) Scheduled Caste (Count, Percentage of SC Teachers Population of Scheduled
1000s) Caste (Count, 100,000s)
(%) (%) (%)
(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13)
Andhra Pradesh 64.59 34.81 99.40 8.15 5.60 13.75 12.6 16.1 13.8 69.1 69.7 138.8
Andhra Pradesh 113.35 66.36 179.72 13.61 9.11 22.72 12.0 13.7 12.6 0 0 0
and Telangana
(Combined)**
Maharashtra 94.47 64.47 158.94 11.86 6.25 18.11 12.5 9.7 11.4 67.7 65.1 132.8
Telangana 48.76 31.56 80.32 5.46 3.51 8.97 11.2 11.1 11.2 0 0 0
Tamil Nadu 100.43 95.56 195.99 11.72 9.51 21.23 11.7 10.0 10.8 72.0 72.3 144.4
West Bengal 39.26 20.81 60.08 4.76 1.61 6.37 12.1 7.7 10.6 110.0 104.6 214.6
Himachal 5.46 4.95 10.41 0.56 0.37 0.93 10.2 7.5 8.9 8.8 8.5 17.3
Pradesh
Delhi 9.35 11.30 20.65 1.02 0.78 1.80 10.9 6.9 8.7 14.9 13.2 28.1
Chhattisgarh 10.88 9.75 20.63 1.07 0.68 1.76 9.9 7.0 8.5 16.4 16.3 32.7
Karnataka 73.48 59.86 133.34 7.42 3.72 11.13 10.1 6.2 8.3 52.6 52.1 104.7
Uttar Pradesh 95.99 45.85 141.84 8.91 2.67 11.57 9.3 5.8 8.2 216.8 196.8 413.6
Rajasthan 45.11 25.98 71.09 4.33 1.27 5.59 9.6 4.9 7.9 63.6 58.7 122.2
Punjab 20.87 30.70 51.58 1.59 1.98 3.58 7.6 6.5 6.9 46.4 42.2 88.6
State-wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education (All categories and Scheduled Caste), Selected States and UTs(2018–19)
States and UTs* All Categories (Count, 1000s) Scheduled Caste (Count, Percentage of SC Teachers Population of Scheduled
1000s) Caste (Count, 100,000s)
(%) (%) (%)
Uttarakhand 10.91 6.60 17.51 0.82 0.34 1.16 7.5 5.2 6.6 9.7 9.2 18.9
Madhya 34.77 24.41 59.18 2.56 1.29 3.85 7.4 5.3 6.5 59.1 54.3 113.4
Pradesh
Haryana 17.06 18.62 35.68 1.42 0.81 2.24 8.3 4.4 6.3 27.1 24.0 51.1
Assam 13.58 9.27 22.85 0.83 0.55 1.38 6.1 5.9 6.0 11.5 10.9 22.3
Gujarat 34.46 23.07 57.53 2.08 1.14 3.22 6.0 5.0 5.6 21.1 19.6 40.7
Odisha 24.21 13.89 38.10 1.11 0.65 1.76 4.6 4.7 4.6 36.2 35.7 71.9
Jharkhand 8.63 3.74 12.37 0.40 0.13 0.52 4.6 3.3 4.2 20.4 19.4 39.9
Bihar 20.89 5.56 26.45 0.93 0.17 1.10 4.5 3.1 4.2 86.1 79.6 165.7
Kerala 22.95 36.29 59.24 0.88 1.29 2.17 3.8 3.6 3.7 14.8 15.6 30.4
All India 796.10 577.05 1,373.15 79.36 45.16 124.51 10.0 7.8 9.1 1,024.2 968.0 1,992.2
* Only major states and UTs with significant Scheduled Caste populations are considered;
** Now both states are separated but total population of Scheduled Caste has been taken from census of 2011. In the year of 2011, both are identified as Andhra
Pradesh.
57
58
Table 2.12 Category Wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of Universities/Institutions 2011–12
Category‐wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of Universities, All India (2011–12)
Types of Universities All Categories Teachers (counts, Scheduled Castes Teachers Percentage of SCs Teachers
1000s) (counts, 1000s)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male (%) Female Total
(%) (%)
Central University 7,712 2,747 10,459 548 169 717 7.1 6.2 6.9
Central Open University 337 187 524 53 17 70 15.7 9.1 13.4
Institute of National Importance 6,670 1,261 7,931 219 52 271 3.3 4.1 3.4
State Public & Open University 34,439 13,761 48,200 3,123 1,154 4,277 9.1 8.4 8.9
State Private University and 11,168 6,977 18,145 181 131 312 1.6 1.9 1.7
Institute Under State Legislature
Act.
Deemed University Government 4,450 1,171 5,621 128 31 159 2.9 2.6 2.8
and Aided
Deemed University Private and 24,978 16,671 41,649 854 592 1,446 3.4 3.6 3.5
Others
All India 89,754 42,775 1,32,529 5,106 2,146 7,252 5.7 5.0 5.5

Table 2.13 Category Wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of Universities/Institutions 2018–19
Category‐wise Number of Teachers in Various Types of Universities, All India (2018–19)
Types of Universities All Categories Teachers (counts, Scheduled Castes Teachers Percentage of SCs Teachers
1000s) (counts, 1000s)
Male Female Total Male Female Total Male (%) Female Total
(%) (%)
Central University 8,815 3,200 12,015 924 274 1,198 10.5 8.6 10.0
Central Open University 108 86 194 15 7 22 13.9 8.1 11.3
Institute of National Importance 11,200 2,804 14,004 725 179 904 6.5 6.4 6.5
State Public & Open University 35,507 19,758 55,265 4,514 1,897 6,411 12.7 9.6 11.6
State Private University and 33,387 22,524 55,911 1,072 597 1,669 3.2 2.7 3.0
Institute Under State Legislature
Act.
Deemed University Government 4,314 2,041 6,355 309 118 427 7.2 5.8 6.7
and Aided
Deemed University Private and 27,054 19,242 46,296 1,175 826 2,001 4.3 4.3 4.3
Others
All India 1,20,385 69,655 1,90,040 8,734 3,898 12,632 7.3 5.6 6.6

59
institutes of national importance where SC teachers’ recruitment rose from 219
males and 52 females in 2011–12 to 725 males and 179 females in 2018–19.
However, in state public and open universities, all category female recruitment
shows a significant jump from 13,761 in 2011–12 to 19,758 in 2018–19. The
most interesting trend is visible in state private university and institutes under
State Legislative Act, where all category male and female teachers’ recruitment
show a massive surge. In 2011–12, it was 11,168 males and 6,977 females, which
rose to 33,387 males and 22,524 females in 2018–19. The corresponding figure
for SC teachers was 181 males and 131 females in 2011–12 and 1072 males and
597 females in 2018–19. At the local level, political and caste networks would
play a significant role in recruiting teachers. There has been a partial increase of
SC teachers, especially males in all the institutions but not in proportion to
their actual population.
Perhaps, because higher education, unlike primary or secondary school
education has been the domain of the elites and continues to be a scarce ‘good’
that leads to substantial differences in life chances, access and admissions cri-
teria are of great concern. Few issues in higher education have been as debated
and emotionally charged as the matter of preferential admission policies for
diverse groups of people in various walks of life. These policies, aimed at equity
and fairness clearly upset the status quo. In a system of higher education, the
matter of standards is undoubtedly important. Does quality appear to be
inevitably diluted when higher education institutions become socially and cul-
turally inclusive? Since the concept of diversity is intertwined with equity, the
question therefore is whether equity and excellence can be pursued simulta-
neously without compromising one for the other. Is there conflict or compat-
ibility between the two concepts? Are they mutually exclusive or inclusive?10 As
argued by Ramachandra Guha, the university in India needs to foster five kinds
of pluralism: in the student body, in the teaching faculty, of disciplines, of
approaches within a discipline and funding sources. He notes that the fostering
of these varieties of pluralism has had to face formidable challenges from the
countervailing forces of parochialism and populism.11
The above argument needs to be highlighted in the case of India with a deeply
entrenched caste apparatus in which any kind of plurality finds it tough to flourish.
Under such circumstances, how is one to ‘imagine’ a university, especially if edu-
cation were to produce and reproduce the lifeworld, mediating the individual and
society (including the economy and polity) – as noted by Habermas, who locates
the university between the social and cultural structure of the lifeworld and the
instrumentalized imperatives of the ‘system’? He was for a critical reappraisal of
the traditional idea of the university as autonomous of state and public, and as
united in the pursuit of truth and knowledge. Such a revaluation should focus on
the ‘structural connection’ between the ‘learning processes’ of universities and the
processes of democratic decision-making. This new unity must be based on critical
argumentation and communication, which are shared by “scientific and scholarly
activity [and by] societies which are not fixed once and for all and which must
reach an understanding about themselves”.12 Inspired by Talcott Parsons’13
seminal work, The American University (1973, written with Gerald Platt),
Habermas identified four functions of universities. These include technical knowl-
edge and the academic preparation of public service professionals with vocational
knowledge. The third function is the transmission, interpretation and development
of cultural knowledge and finally, critical knowledge or what he refers to as “the
enlightenment of the political public sphere”.
Hence, a university’s existence is not solely to churn out degrees or act as an
employment exchange but rather should also contribute to forming “the poli-
tical consciousness of students”.14 For Habermas, this meant “reproducing a
mentality”15 which straddles cultural and critical knowledge and takes on dif-
ferent forms in different socio-historical conditions. He pointed out that in
Germany prior to the 1960s forming the political consciousness of students had,
in fact, been unconscious and apolitical “deriving from the culture of human-
ism, and of loyalty to state authority”.
Though Habermas considered universities as essential for society’s pro-
gress, the fact that it contains within itself the seeds of the reproduction of
social lifeworlds, meant that constant vigilance is required to unleash its
transformative potential. Hence, education has always been viewed as a
contested terrain, especially in highly unequal societies. Heuristically speak-
ing, education is perceived as serving one of two purposes in society. It
either serves to ‘domesticate’ and strengthen the existing relations of power
and therefore perpetuates the ills such as socio-economic and environmental,
critiqued throughout its corpus of literature, rendering conditions of
oppression as nonexistent, or else it serves to ‘liberate’ in contributing to the
ushering in of a new world in which principles of social justice and ecolo-
gical sustainability are upheld.16 Similarly, Bourdieu also argued that social
inequalities are legitimated by the educational credentials held by those in
dominant positions. This means that the educational system has a key role
in maintaining the status quo. “… it [education] is one of the most effective
means of perpetuating the existing social pattern, as it both provides an
apparent justification for social inequalities and gives recognition to the
cultural heritage, that is, to a social gift treated as a natural one.”17
In the Indian context, graded inequality prohibited lower castes and
women from acquiring an education and it was monopolized by the twice-
born castes for a very long period in history. The pedagogy was based on
religious scriptures and transmitted through rote learning in a sanctified
space – ‘the Gurukuls’.18 The past two centuries witnessed radical mass
movements, which led to a paradigm shift in making education accessible to
the public. Interestingly, it was only in the first decade of the twentieth
century that girls’ schools were set up at Banaras Hindu University and
Aligarh Muslim University, whereas Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule started the
first school for girls at Pune in 1848. This also reflects the societal priorities
and the social location of the institutional founders. The British set up the
university system in India, which was further liberalized through constitu-
tional provisions like reservations. Hence, it is essential to reflect on the
manner through which the marginalized communities access the university
spaces and the contested academic terrain. In addition, they need to negoti-
ate not only with the peer group, pedagogy, language and the cultural ethos
but also with the administration and the teaching community. Interpersonal
relationships and social structures relegate certain classes of people within
specific categories wherein they are susceptible to losing their self-respect
due to both internal and external influences. The present study is based on
the field data, which reflects the experiences and shared narratives of the
students regarding caste-based discrimination and exclusion. The data
reveals that for these students navigating various facets of academia often
ends up in a dystopian universe. Everyday academic activities – like examinations,
viva voce, laboratory work, fellowship applications – are all fraught with potential
conflict. The study also takes into cognizance the rural/urban divide, impact of
social movements, different kinds of organizational support, both at the level of
students and civil society, which renders each university campus a unique space.
Despite encountering myriad problems, enrolment of SC students has grown
exponentially in higher education in India.
Notes
1 Guru, Gopal, “University as an Idea”, Economic & Political Weekly January 11,
2020, Vol. IV No. 2, p. 9.
2 Thorat, Sukadeo, “Higher Education in India Emerging Issues Related to Access,
Inclusiveness and Quality”, www.ugc.ac.in/oldpdf/chair_sdt/chairman_nehru_lecture.
pdf p. 1 Accessed 15 July 2010.
3 Report of the Education Commission – 1964–66, www.academics-india.com/Kothari%
20Commission%20Report.pdf Chapter 1, p. 41. Accessed 18 June 2018.
4 Guru, Gopal, op. cit.
5 Gilbert, J. New Zealand Council for Educational Research (NZCER) Conference:
“Making Progress –Measuring Progress”, New Zealand, Wellington, 2008, pp. 63–73.
6 These are courses which lack glamour and market value and fit for those who are defi-
cient in ‘merit’ and resources. These include humanities and social sciences.
7 www.https://aishe.gov.in/aishe/home Accessed 31 July 2020.
8 Rahil, List of top, major achievements of Mayawati as UP’s Chief Minister, www.
theindianwire.com/politics/achievements-of-mayawati-as-up-cm-71637/, September 5,
2018. Accessed July 20, 2020.
9 http://welfarepunjab.gov.in/Static/PDF/ScSchemes/ENCOURAGEMENT_AWARDS_
TO_SC_GIRL_STUDENTS_FOR_PURSUING_10_2_EDUCATION.pdf Accessed
20 July 2020.
10 Ghosh, Ratna, “Diversity and Excellence in Higher Education: Is There a Conflict?”
Comparative Education Review August 2012, Vol. 56, No. 3, p. 350.
11 Guha, Ramachandra, “Pluralism in the Indian University”, Perspective, Economic
and Political Weekly, February 17, 2007, p. 564.
12 Habermas, J. “The Idea of the University: Learning Processes”, in Habermas, J.,
trans. Nicholson, S. Weber, The New Conservatism: Cultural Criticism and the
Historians’ Debate, Cambridge, Polity Press, 1989, p. 125.
13 Parsons, T. and Platt, G, The American University, Cambridge, Harvard University
Press, 1973.
14 Mclean, Monica, “Pedagogy and the University: Critical Theory and Practice”,
Continuum, 2006, p. 16.
15 Ibid. p.16.
16 Santos, Souza, Epistemologies of the South: Justice Against Epistemicide, Boulder,
Paradigm, 2014; quoted in (ed) Darder, Antonia, Mayo, Peter and Paraskeva, Joao,
The International Critical Pedagogy Reader, Routledge, 2016, p. 1.
17 Bourdieu, “The School as a Conservative Force”. In Eggleston, J. (ed.) Con-
temporary Research in the Sociology of Education, London, Methuen, 1974, p. 32.
18 In ancient India, spiritual education was imparted to young boys at the teacher’s
residence under the Gurukul system. The students remained at the guru’s place till
they reached adulthood and helped with the domestic chores. The system debarred
girls, untouchables and forest dwellers from accessing this education.
3 Unequal Spaces
Mapping Caste Discrimination in Indian
Universities
I came to the university as I believed that it will emancipate me from social dis-
crimination, but I found caste discrimination existing here in a more sophisti-
cated manner. 1
For a few hypocrites, SC students and SC girls are supposed to be in that
samosa packed chudidhars and oily heads. They don’t and can’t accept growth or
development in us. Comfortable or branded clothing, straightened hair or
groomed bodies and good English in an SC girl irks the hell out of regular upper
caste women. For upper caste men, we would be a simple, easy to get sex object.
‘We are sorry! We are here to live our lives! Not to please you’. 2
Birth as a Fatal Accident

I used to proudly tell everyone in my village that my son was doing PhD at
Hyderabad University. Today, I have come to collect his dead body. 3
On 17th January 2016, Rohith Vemula was found hanging in his friend’s hostel
room at Hyderabad Central University. Prior to this, many other students had
also been forced to end their lives at this ‘prestigious’ institution. However,
Rohith’s case grabbed the nation’s attention as he left behind a poignant note
reflecting on his dreams; cruelly cut short by an apathetic academic ambience.
For a couple of days, print and electronic media ignored the story whereas it
was prominently discussed on social media. Eminent scholars and civil society
activists attempted to deconstruct his suicide note.4 An embattled university
called in paramilitary forces. More than a decade ago, another research scholar,
Senthil Kumar5 hanged himself in HCU and his body was discovered after two
days. He did not leave behind any note. The protests were localized as it was
before the dawn of social media. A decade between these two tragedies, many
more student suicides occurred in HCU. The university achieved the tag of
excellence from the National Assessment and Accreditation Council (NAAC).
The institution never reached out to the families of the students who killed
themselves within its precincts unable to cope with the stigma and humiliation
of being an untouchable in the modern gurukul. In a brazen move, Rohith’s
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-3
Unequal Spaces 65
body was hastily cremated by the police and not handed over to his family.
Such actions are not surprising, as a former vice-chancellor of HCU had sug-
gested the profiling of northeast students, scrapped fellowships and meddled
with the constitutional provision for faculty recruitment among other things.6
“Coming as I do from the lowest order of the Hindu Society, I know that
what is the value of education. The problem of raising the lower order is
deemed to be economic. This is a great mistake. The problem of raising the
lower order in India is not to feed them, to clothe them and to make them
serve the higher classes as the ancient ideal of this country. The problem of
the lower order is to remove from them that inferiority complex which has
stunted their growth and made them slaves to others, to create in them the
consciousness of the significance of their lives for themselves and for the
country, of which they have been cruelly robbed of the existing social
order. Nothing can achieve this purpose except the spread of higher edu-
cation. This is in my opinion the panacea of our social troubles.”7
Ambedkar’s wise words reflect the aspirational value of education for the
oppressed communities. These words also echo in the autobiographies penned
by Dalits, which document their struggles to access education. Sheoraj Singh
Bechain’s work is eloquently titled, My Childhood on My Shoulders, wherein
he documents his journey as a manual labourer to get educated; Om Prakash
Valmiki’s Joothan narrates the everyday struggles to complete his matriculation
amidst the scornful attitude of his social superiors. Manoranjan Byapari learnt
his Bengali alphabets in prison.8 Kumud Pawade’s historic journey to master
Sanskrit as an untouchable woman is also a tribute to Ambedkar when she
says, “Ambedkar’s message to me, was liberty, freedom, intellectual freedom
and social freedom”.9
How does one make sense of caste and its everyday journeys in academia?
Despite the best intentions of the state and myriad agencies, why is it that
Dalits never encounter a level playing field in educational institutions, while
their social superiors are deemed to be endowed with ‘merit’ as a ‘naturalized
birthright’. Here, it is essential to understand that caste-based oppression is not
one-dimensional. One needs to explore the manner in which psychological,
socio-structural, ideological and institutional forces jointly contribute to the
production and reproduction of social oppression.10 The epistemology of social
dominance helps to comprehend both individual and structural factors that
contribute to various forms of group-based oppression. Hence, rather than
merely asking why people stereotype, why people are prejudiced, why they
discriminate or why they believe the world is just and fair, social dominance
theory asks why human societies tend to be organized as group-based hier-
archies. This approach helps to focus on the subtle forms of discrimination that
people face in their daily lives.11
To contextualize the present study, social dominance theory resonates with
the idea of cultural capital, which is embedded in the caste habitus. Systemic
66 Unequal Spaces
institutional, group and individual discrimination drives caste-based oppression
in the Indian scenario. Dominant social groups and individuals are able to
relegate low paying and dangerous jobs to the members of less powerful and
marginalized groups. The prevalent graded inequality in India pushes all clean-
ing jobs, including manual scavenging to the Dalit community. As institutions
allocate resources on a larger scale, more systematically than individuals can,
social dominance theory regards institutional discrimination as one of the major
forces creating, maintaining and recreating systems of group-based hierarchy.
This group discrimination tends to be systematic because social ideologies help
to coordinate the actions of institutions and individuals. People share knowl-
edge and beliefs that legitimize discrimination and most often they behave as if
they endorsed these ideologies. They also support institutions that allocate
resources in accordance with those ideologies and as individuals, particularly
when they are in social contexts that cue these ideologies.12 The determinants
of group-based hierarchy are viewed at multiple levels of analysis, including
psychological orientations, the discriminatory behaviour of individuals, the
legitimizing ideologies that permeate entire social systems and the social allo-
cations of groups and social institutions.13 Similar studies in India have focused
on caste as the legitimizing ideology to explain inequality and also behaviour
that produces inequality.
Barbara Harriss-White14 argued that the larger part of the modern Indian
economy is regulated in significant ways by social institutions derived from
‘primordial identity’ and that (although continually contested) they are resistant
or immune to change by means of macro-economic policy. These regulative
institutions structure the economy, while being fields of power which also
operate outside it. In its indirect regulation of this informal economy, the
Indian state is not proof against the influence of these structuring identities, as a
result of which it does not work as one would expect a modern developmental
state to work. She attempted to examine the ways in which the most significant
social structures of accumulation – religions, caste, space, classes and the state –
regulate India’s informal economy.
Dalits cannot escape their caste identity in any public space and this caste
location influences their representation in the schools.15 Dalit pupils face dif-
ferent forms of discrimination in the school. They are not allowed to drink
water from the common tap. Dominant caste pupils think that by doing so,
Dalit students will pollute the water. Teachers do not take any action against
upper caste students for their recalcitrant behaviour.16 According to Geeta
Nambissan, the classroom is segregated on the basis of caste. Dalit students are
forced to sit in the corners of the classroom or in the back rows.17 Absence of
Dalit history was reflected in the curriculum. It is argued that some of the stu-
dents suggested that including the history of Dalit leaders such as Ambedkar
may create consciousness among Dalit students. They do not participate in the
co-curricular activities because teachers do not trust in their competence. They
also lack cultural capital when compared to the students from the higher
castes.18 The dropout percentage of Dalit students during the period up to class
Unequal Spaces 67
Vth were 41.47 percent, up to class VIIIth 59.93 percent and up to class X,
71.92 percent respectively.19 Dalit students thus face tangible and intangible
ways of social exclusion during their school days that continues with higher
education.20
Despite struggling against insurmountable odds, Dalits who make it to insti-
tutions of higher learning seldom find a level playing field. This is testified by
the increasing number of suicides which are buried under fact-finding reports,
and the academic institutions rarely acknowledge the casteplaining that is ram-
pant in the corridors of academia. Thirumal puts it very succinctly that caste is
a kind of social that we carry with us prior to any objectification of ourselves as
individual entities/beings.21 By virtue of reservations, Dalits can access higher
education, but the manner and modes of behaviour in these institutions reflect a
particular cultural universe which is anachronistic to a secular, egalitarian
institution. Certain imperceptible practices of this habitus are akin to Brahma-
nical agraharas (localities exclusively inhabited by the Brahmin communities in
towns and villages in South India), which embody a bionetwork of dominance
and servility. The guru-shishya parampara22 is valorized with practices like
touching the feet of the upper caste teacher (preferably male) to beget special
blessings (aashirwad). If the teacher belongs to a Dalit community, the students
will greet him/her with a namaskar.23 The caste names of socially privileged
teachers are used as honorific.24 The iconography, both in the private and
public spaces in the campus, also reflects the culturally superior power-knowl-
edge nexus. Lacking proper ‘breeding’ and grooming in Brahmanical aesthetics,
Dalits can only peep into these rarefied environs and like ‘good’ Dalits keep
their heads down and never question the status quo. They need to invisibilize
themselves in order to fit into the campus ecosystem. A student respondent in
Kathryn Lum’s study pointed out to the extreme isolation Dalit students
experienced in universities where dissent is seldom tolerated.
“The isolation is worse at X university. There the upper caste professors

tell you to keep quiet. One even told me that Gandhi is the best person to
speak about caste. When I told him, no; Ambedkar is the best person to
speak about caste, he told me to shut up.”25
Their representational claims are mocked because the elite assumes that they
are yet to make a substantial claim over these spaces because of the lack of
cultural embeddedness. The classic illustration is of Gandhi commenting to an
aide after his first meeting with Ambedkar; that he seemed to be a progressive
Brahman from Poona.26
Divided Lives and Polluted Bodies

Universities contain within themselves a complex ecosystem which a student
learns to navigate. The process is smooth if one ticks the right boxes of caste
and gender. For the others, it is a meandering maze of procedures, pedagogies,
68 Unequal Spaces
relationships and lifestyles, the discourse of which needs to be understood. For
Dalits, universities as modern, egalitarian institutions hold an aspirational value
as it’s a ‘promised land’ to shed the stigma and humiliation which a caste-
ridden society has bestowed on them. A university degree can also ensure
upward economic and social mobility. In a deeply conservative society, the
campus space also provides opportunities to explore inter- and intrapersonal
relationships. Campaigns by student organizations and gender activists of all
hues testify to the different shades of ‘freedom’ articulated on the campuses.
There exists a heady sense of liberation and utopian space with the promise
that liberation is just around the corner, for many first-generation students,
especially women, tribals and Dalits. The coercive caste and family apparatus
has been left behind to explore new lifeworlds.
In many societies marked by structural hierarchies, diversity initiatives have
been focused on improving the academic experience and institutional environ-
ment for diverse student groups, specifically aimed to make the environment
inclusive for the underrepresented students. The focus on access and equity in
higher education has created a range of issues on campuses. Multiple social
identities encompass campus spaces such as race, ethnicity, gender, sexual
orientation, caste, class, region and religion etc. The academic climate is an
important aspect of the experiences of the Dalit students because the environ-
ment within and outside the classroom affect students’ perception and perfor-
mance. In Indian higher education, diversity has been reduced to mere
compositional diversity at the student level, and the campus climate issue has
been overlooked by scholars and leaders of higher education. Student composi-
tional diversity has been considerably obtained through the various affirmative
action policies. However, faculty compositional diversity is still deficient;
therefore, there is a considerable power imbalance between Dalit students and
higher caste faculty on campuses. Similarly, student compositional diversity,
without institutional commitments and measures to support diversity, has cre-
ated social tensions between identity-based student groups across campuses. In
this context, the role of campus climate for diversity has a paramount sig-
nificance on a diverse campus and has the potential to create a positive envir-
onment on campuses.27
Unfortunately, the university as an institution mirrors the social and political
bigotries and stifles any expression of intellectual creativity. For many students,
the easiest mode of survival is to keep your head down, maintain silence, collect
your degree and attempt to lead a ‘normal’ life. Many others, unable to cope
with the oppressive system, either drop out or kill themselves as a silent protest.
For first generation Dalit learners, getting acclimatized to the campus lingo
takes time. Many of them are not conversant with the discourse on sexuality,
gendered relationships, and the jocular ‘language’ resorted to by the privileged
students and the faculty. Looking back, the author is now wise enough to
understand the nuances of various forms of harassment28 based on caste,
sexual, psychological, verbal, emotional, which were routinized at his alma
mater. Some of the male teachers would only spend time with ‘fair looking’
Unequal Spaces 69
upper caste female students and economically well-off male students, giving
them academic support and generally build a more congenial atmosphere for
such students. These students know how to conduct themselves as they are
groomed with the required cultural capital. A newly joined female faculty
member was introducing herself in the department office about her academic
credentials and in passing, she also mentioned that she is a good weightlifter.
After she left, a senior male teacher commented with a wink at a couple of male
students (the author was part of the group), “Well! All women are good
weightlifters”. As a student, I never realised how demeaning such comments
could be and there was no idea that such words constitute ‘harassment’. The
teacher who passed these comments is a Brahmin male and the female teacher is
a Dalit. A case study of Banaras Hindu University (BHU) is peppered with
similar comments by upper caste teachers concerning their Dalit female students
“it seems that you do not know how to please your guide” (lagta hain ki tumhe
apne guide ko patana nahi aata) or joking about a married student, “Yes of
course, immediately after marriage, heat anyway increases!” (haan bhai shaadi
hote hi garmi to waise hi badh jati hain).29 There are instances of Dalit teachers
also harassing Dalit students, including sexual harassment.30
Even when educational institutions have set in place strategies to counter
sexual harassment and exploitation; it is normalized and invisibilized in many
premier campuses. In HCU, a Dalit girl pursuing her Masters in the Mathe-
matical Sciences got involved with an ‘upper caste’ Reddy boy from the Hindi
department. However, the boy later refused to marry her citing caste reasons.
Unable to withstand the humiliation and betrayal (many fellow students were
aware of her plight) the girl student committed suicide in 1995. As per the
postmortem report, she was pregnant when she died. Assured of the authorities’
silence, the upper caste boy boasted to the friends of the deceased that they can
never harm him. On the day of her death, upper caste girls in the same hostel
continued to celebrate a birthday party.31
What is in a Name?
The Bard of Avon might have famously questioned, “What’s in a name?” but
one’s name can also assure inclusion or exclusion from the social life of the
campus. Most of the time discrimination and humiliation is very subtle and
sophisticated. It is disguised in the ornamental and metaphorical language used,
body gestures, and in the garb of implementing objective institutional rules. It is
the individual experience – each being so different and unique that it is difficult
to develop a typology, but it is possible to do so based on similarities and
repetitive experiences of Dalits on campuses.32 Terms like ‘quota’s children’ or
‘category waalas’ for students who secure admission through reservations,
determine the life cycle of such students. Many female Dalit students are teased
as ‘behenji’ a pejorative term which implies old-fashioned women. Their choice
of attire, linguistic abilities, accessories etc. are all made fun off. Often,
including Dalit caste names such as ‘dedh chamar’, ‘bhangi’, ‘paraya’, ‘pulaya’,
70 Unequal Spaces
‘mala’ (rendu), ‘madiga’ (moodu),33 ‘eklavyas’, ‘bakasuras’, ‘kumbhakarnas’
and ‘Harijans’, as they are only supposed to eat and sleep are often used as
identity markers. For conscious Dalits, ‘jai bhim waale’34 and ‘ambedkar waale’
are often used. A more sophisticated nomenclature is ‘sarkaari brahmin’ (gov-
ernment brahmanas) and ‘sarkaari damaad’ (government sons-in-law). On IIT
campuses, Dalit students are named as ‘Saddus’ (an epithet derived from the
term Scheduled Castes and Tribes) or Cata students (derived from SC and ST
as a separate category) or even ‘preppies’. In Delhi colleges, Dalit girls with
deep anxiety have spoken about how they are ridiculed by the question “Quote
se aye ho ya kothe se” (Have you come via reservation quota or brothel?)35
In a similar manner, another student points to the discrimination inherent in
the system of publishing lists of students with star marks, a single star for SC
students, two stars for STs and a # mark for OBCs.36 “We hear remarks such
as ‘Ah, here comes the star’ when we enter a classroom.”37
“When I joined MPhil course at Madari University, a service staff member

in the office introduced me to the HOD as ‘Sir, SC student, new admis-
sion’. Since then my caste has become so discernible to them that it kept
exasperating me, wondering what is the need for revealing my caste, with
self-evident specification imposed on me; without my consent?”38
Another research scholar, Madari Venkatesh pointed out how guides are not
allotted to SC/ST students on time. “This delays the doctoral work, which
in turn leads to frustration,” he says. He recalls how while doing his MA,
during a class discussion on Dalit reservations, general category students
would point at him and say, “Isn’t he sitting with us today, isn’t it what he
wants?”39
Interestingly, Dalit teachers also participate in denigrating SC students by
questioning their ‘merit’. Slow learners not proficient in English or those who
do not pronounce English well could not become prominent in Mathematics
and Science subjects as compared to the students from other communities.
These are the prejudices about Dalit students that are still ingrained in the
minds of many teachers. One of the Dalit students who achieved top rank in
the higher secondary school examination got admission at one of the premier
institutions in India. One day in the classroom, he was humiliated by his pro-
fessor who asked him, “How did you get admission here? By your caste quota?”
The student, who got the seat under the general category based on his marks,
felt that the professor not only put him down in front of the whole class but the
whole community. Supervisors love to tempt the students to cry out in front of
them. In the very first year, students are made to feel they do not have adequate
knowledge to pursue a PhD. As a result, they lose hope in themselves and the
subject. If you are married before joining, they would ask why you got married.
If you are not married, they would say, “Go and get married to someone and
do other work. Do not come here”. Such comments are not only made by non-
Dalit teachers but also expressed by Dalit professors.40 The respondents of the
Unequal Spaces 71
present study also stated that a few Dalit teachers ridicule their academic skills
to side with their own upper caste peers. Throughout their entire life, Dalit
students have to bear the cross of ‘merit’. Even if they attain success in
their chosen professions, it is always assumed that the ‘quotas’ have helped
them in their socio-economic mobility. If one were to turn the discourse
upside down, quotas have always existed in Indian society; priesthood is
always reserved for Brahmin male – it is naturalized with no one raising
any questions.
Decoding Achievement
The growth of knowledge, especially scientific knowledge needs to be con-
textualized within a specific space–time continuum. Ajanta Subramanian puts it
very succinctly that over the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, India witnessed
significant changes. Technical knowledge went from being the purview of
Indian lower-caste artisans to becoming integral to state power, economic
development and upper-caste status. This process was intimately linked to the
rise of engineering. As technological modernization became the emblem of state
prowess and societal progress, engineering emerged as a white-collar profession,
tied to the public display of modern power. In India, the growth of engineering
education sidelined lower castes and conscripted upper castes with no prior
technical skill into the ranks of a new profession. With the postcolonial state’s
fuller embrace of technologically driven development, the divergence between
artisanship and engineering was further consolidated, as was the association
between technical knowledge and upper-caste status.41 The Tamil Brahmins
were the earliest to frame merit as a caste claim. Their marking as Brahmins
produced forms of self-marking as a tactic of meritocratic claim-making. With
the spread of Other Backward Class (OBC) politics across India, this shift to a
more explicit caste politics of meritocracy has also spread. At IIT Madras and
beyond, the assumption now is that the general category is an upper-caste
collective.42
Hence, Brahmanical domination of science is seen as ‘normal’ and ‘natural’
and it is their value systems that are valorized as being culturally superior. The
majority of the Brahmin scientists at the Indian Institute of Science, Bangalore
were vegetarian. IISc has three major student dining halls (mess), called A, B
and C: A mess is for pure-vegetarian food, B mess is for north Indian vegetarian
and non-vegetarian food and C mess is for south Indian vegetarian and non-
vegetarian food. Even though Brahmins and other upper caste students and
researchers ate at the B and C mess, majority of the Dalits and non-Brahmins
ate either at the B or the C mess. Some Brahmin scientists agreed that they had
tried non-vegetarian food when they were in Western universities. Food
becomes a way of preserving their cultural and caste memory. Though these
scientists continue to be vegetarians, they did not associate their food habits
with their caste backgrounds. Instead, they justified vegetarian food habits as
scientific. They are very sceptical about students from other caste groups having
72 Unequal Spaces
the required patience and tenacity to pursue scientific research. These guys are
not interested to ‘waste’ time like us. They think it is better to go for a tech-
nical or business education, so that they would get immediate benefit. Science
and research will not have an immediate effect. It takes time to get benefits. The
most important thing one ought to have while pursuing research is ‘patience’,
which we don’t find among these groups.
Reflecting on the Brahmanical supremacy over science and technology, a
Dalit student quipped, “IISc means Iyer Iyengar Science Campus (Iyers and
Iyengars are Brahmins from the state of Tamil Nadu and settled in different
parts of South India)”.43
Kancha Ilaiah strived to upturn the hands versus brains meritocracy when he
conducted a microanalysis of the productive knowledge systems of the Dalit-
Bahujan communities. He provided a detailed day-to-day analysis of the top-
down approach to ‘merit’ in his work, Post-Hindu India: A Discourse in Dalit-
Bahujan, Socio-Spiritual and Scientific Revolution.44 The book content inverts
the caste hierarchy by focusing on themes like Subaltern Scientists, Productive
Soldiers and Subaltern Feminists etc. and to the bottom are relegated Social
Smugglers, Spiritual Fascists etc. “The farmer who uses his knowledge to make
land produce food, the potter who uses his skills to give shape to wet earth, the
craftsmen who forge metal … how can you claim that they or their descendants
lack knowledge or merit,” he asks. “Merit is currently being defined by caste
and used as an excuse to perpetuate exclusion in institutes of learning and
subsequently in the job market,” he says. “This form of exclusion is not new.
For centuries Sanskrit that was the language of higher learning was only taught
to Brahmins, thereby preventing others from gaining knowledge in order to
improve their socio-economic standing.” Ilaiah proposes that we reorient our
view of caste.
Instead of the merit vs non-merit dichotomy, we should recognize the pro-

ductive vs non-productive dichotomy in our caste system. Historically it
was the ‘lower’ castes who produced everything from food crops and tools
to metalware, clothes and shoes. It was the artisans and carpenters, the
people who engaged in cattle rearing and tribals who harnessed forest
produce who have always been the backbone of the economy. However, it
was the upper castes that accumulated wealth because of their higher social
standing that gave them power over the lives, labour and resources of the
lower castes.
“This is how they engaged in social smuggling,” he says, explaining the

origin of the contentious term that is the cause of most threats to his life
today.45
In 2015, a film was made on Dashrath Manjhi, a landless labourer from
Bihar. The story of an untouchable from the Gehlour Hills who with his sheer
will and hard work changed the lives of people of his village, by single-handedly
carving a 360-feet-long, 30-feet-high and 30-feet-wide passage through the
Unequal Spaces 73
mountain, is an inspiring story. The film was praised for its production values,
acting and the human element. Manjhi completed the road after 22 years of
dedication and hard work. Soon after he completed the near-impossible feat, he
went to see the then Bihar Chief Minister, Nitish Kumar, to get the road tarred.
It is said that the Chief Minister offered Manjhi his seat out of respect, a
monumental gesture considering the severe oppression the Musahar caste faced
in caste-ridden India.46 Undoubtedly, Manjhi’s feat was courageous but no one
raised a query as to why the state and its bureaucracy including the technocratic
elite could not build the road, which would connect the untouchable village to
the wider world. It is easy to applaud individual accomplishments but difficult
to acknowledge systemic failures especially when they concern Dalit lives and
livelihoods. Despite being an illiterate, Manjhi had sufficient engineering skills
to construct a road through the mountain with rudimentary technology. How-
ever, his knowledge is never considered intellectual enough to be seen as ‘merit’.
Whenever there is any discussion on distributive justice and reservations, the
question of merit invariably crops up. However, a studied silence is maintained
on the corresponding issue of privilege. Speaking at the graduation ceremony of
an affluent school in Chicago, Rainn Wilson commented succinctly,
We’re a privileged bunch in many ways. Most of us have come from

money, have some money, most of us are white-skinned, and come from
families where there’s been a tremendous amount of success. Most of us
are going to get an amazing secondary education. And for most of us, the
doors to the business world, or the art world, or political world, or science
world will be wide open for us.
“This is not something I ever want you to feel bad about,” he continued. “What
privilege means is that we have an opportunity … not to be entitled, not to be
superior, but to acknowledge our privilege and do whatever we can to help
those who don’t have it.”47 Though he spoke from the perspective of a white
heterosexual male, it applies to the ‘casteless’ Indians who turn a blind eye to
their social capital.
Society plays a crucial role in this transformation of hierarchies. For people
who have been subjected to discrimination, the transition from the creation of
opportunities to the realization of opportunities requires two essentials. First,
there must be a social consciousness among those included, that is, the privi-
leged. Second, there must be rights consciousness amongst those excluded, that
is, the discriminated. Yet, there are persistent difficulties and stubborn obsta-
cles. For one, there is resistance on the part of those privileged, those included.
It is about ceding social, economic and political space which they occupy. This
is particularly important in societies where people are poor and opportunities
are scarce. There are vested interests on the one hand and there are embedded
prejudices on the other. These are both very difficult to fight, let alone remove.
What is needed, then, is social consciousness on the part of individuals and
collective action on the part of communities. For another, there is resentment
74 Unequal Spaces
on part of the discriminated, those excluded. People who have been subjected to
discrimination in society for a long time, sometimes see affirmative action as a
process that reinforces notions of exclusion. In their perception, identities are
seen as labels, or as symbols of exclusion. In such situations, the struggle
against social injustice through affirmative action becomes far more complex
and difficult.48 Dani and Haan claimed that the “rules, norms, beliefs, and
behaviours laid down by institutions often define who the individual is, how
that individual is valued by society, and what that individual can or cannot
do”.49 In the institutions of higher learning, clearly laid out statutes prohibit
any kind of discriminatory behaviour against Dalit students, which are always
flouted in reality. From the time of filling the application forms till the final
convocation,50 Dalit students are made to brazen out their ‘Dalitness’.
The fact is we are Dalit one cannot overlook that part of us. We have to
confront our ‘Dalitness’ and this means being prepared to confront the
cultural hurdles around Hindu traditions of caste hierarchy at times not
being included in a non-Dalit group or even share a seat, meal or university
accommodation with high-caste Hindus and even much more which come
our way.51
Epistemic Injustices
The first-generation Dalit learners negotiate university spaces bereft of any
positive role models, something akin to Gloria Steinem’s remarks in her book
Revolution From Within, where she points out that women in her generation
who attended university could attain academic excellence, even as the male-
centric curriculum undermined their self-esteem. The epistemic-semantic
mechanism that keeps people in their place is still strong. Our marketplace,
schools and cultural institutions tend to teach us to listen to and follow the
privileged people in power. Directly or suggestively, we are taught not to listen
to common men, women and children; at least, not to hear their talk as a valid
language or discourse. Miller and Swift, who have extensively studied pervasive
sexism in language, point out that learning through language and other symbols
begins in the home and is reinforced by institutionalized religion, the education
system, the media and the market.52 Thus, the spoken word has enormous
power to forge relationships. The subterranean casteplaining evident behind
terms like ‘jai bheem wale’, ‘ambedkarwadi’ or ‘quotawala’ visualizes a deviant
body unlike sonorous terms – ‘left liberals’, ‘buddhijeevi’, ‘bhadralok’, which
conjure up images of intellectual capability. The oppressor denies and disproves
the experiences and feelings of others by using “words that make the wound,
the split between subject and object, exposing and exploiting the object but
disguising and defending the subject”. Ignoring, excluding or distorting the
interpretations of others not only makes them invisible or unimportant, but
also lowers them in their own eyes by damaging their self-image. A confining,
demeaning or contemptible portrayal can inflict harm and can be a form of
Unequal Spaces 75
oppression. An oppressor objectifies the other in many ways. It is to ease his
guilty conscience that the oppressor gets into the habit of seeing the oppressed
as subhuman; for this, he invents a web of words, images and theories. Dalit
students’ suicides are brushed away as personal issues, lack of coping with the
pedagogy; thereby marking them as unworthy and unwanted. The furore cre-
ated around Rohith’s caste status and the public vilification of his mother’s
family background, testifies to the prevailing predatory caste-based epistemic
order. Accustoming oneself to treating the other as less than human requires
some intellectual and moral justification. The method in the madness is, “call a
dog bad, call a dog mad and then shoot him”.53
For almost two decades, the author has worked on issues of Indian Political
Thought, Human Rights and Social Exclusion, but he is always branded as a
‘Dalit Scholar’. Despite his subject knowledge, he is always considered merely
an SC/ST Observer for interviews in his own discipline. When he pointed out
that this behaviour amounts to discrimination in an official letter to the autho-
rities, they never bothered to respond. When he introduced a paper for the
MPhil optional course on ‘Ideating Dignity’, a senior colleague commented as
to why the research agenda is being hijacked to focus from theory to praxis.
Whenever any research proposal contains the word ‘Dalit’, reservations, caste
atrocities etc., it is automatically marked to the author. Invariably, he takes the
place of the SC/ST/OBC observer at official meetings in the department. As a
student, the author was branded as a ‘quota’s child’, and as a teacher, objecti-
fied solely as a Dalit scholar. A decade ago, a close friend enquired of him,
“When is your Thorat (then UGC Chairperson) going to give the 6th Pay
Commission?” S. K. Thorat is a renowned economist, who also happens to be a
Dalit. The Chairmanship of the UGC is not specifically for Dalits but that is
how it is perceived and hence, this kind of comment. Unfortunately, such mar-
kers are a constant for Dalits. Despite being a renowned economist, Chairper-
son of UGC and ICSSR, Prof S. K. Thorat is labelled as a Dalit academic.54
On 20 August 1982, the SC/ST Students Welfare Association of JNU in a
press release protested against the discriminatory attitude of the Centre for
Political Studies. They demanded the revaluation of the thesis of an SC student
who was awarded a very low grade. In a detailed letter to the then University
Chancellor, the Association highlighted the marks scored by SC/ST candidates
in viva55 in various centers/schools. The struggle was covered by the print
media and the pamphlets were distributed to the JNU community at large to
apprise them of the issue. When the university administration failed to respond,
agitating students went on a ten-day hunger strike from 23rd August till 1st
September 1982. The issue was raised in Parliament also. Finally, the university
set up a grievance committee to deliberate on the issue.56
Hence, the issue of SC/ST students scoring fewer marks, or even failing in
viva, is not a recent phenomenon. In November 1980, a five-judge Constitution
Bench of the Supreme Court comprising legal luminaries like P. N. Bhagwati,
Y. V. Chandrachud (CJI), V. R. Krishna Iyer, Syed Murtaza Fazal Ali, A. D.
Koshal had clearly said, “We are of the view that, under the existing
76 Unequal Spaces
circumstances, allocation of more than 15% of the total marks for the oral
interview would be arbitrary and unreasonable and would be liable to be struck
down as constitutionally invalid”.57 The problem continued to persist and var-
ious student organizations58 worked to create public opinion on this dis-
criminatory attitude. Some took recourse to Right to Information applications
to get data on viva marks of SC/ST/OBC candidates in various disciplines.59 In
2016, the UGC came up with a new set of regulations for MPhil/PhD admissions,
which also included a minimum percentage requirement of 55% for general
category and 50% for reserved category, as well as the 100% weightage given to
viva-voce exam.
In a sensitive and unambiguously student-friendly judgement, the Delhi High
Court tackled all three matters with great wisdom and dignity. On the subject
of 100% weightage to the viva exam, the court observed,
In the opinion of this court, the entire weightage to performance of a can-

didate in the interview, or viva voce, based on the evaluation of the ‘power
point’ presentation affords the widest latitude to arbitrary and capricious
behaviour of the members of the board, who know that the fate of admis-
sion hangs in their hands. Discretion, wherever allowed, is to be mini-
mized; more so when it concerns admission to academic institutions.
Academics are no doubt brilliant in their fields; however, they are not
immune to baser tendencies, such as unconscious bias (subject matter,
mannerisms, perceived lack of respect, etc). This can tend to cloud their
wisdom and conferring the exclusive power to admit a student at MPhil/
PhD levels would therefore be arbitrary.
The court ruled, “That Regulation 5.4 of the UGC Regulations in so far as it
permits filling of M.Phil./Ph.D. entirely on the basis of cent percent evaluation
of performance in the viva voce process is arbitrary. The said regulation is,
therefore, declared void and contrary to Article 14.”
The court was also mindful of the impact of the overemphasis on the viva
exam on students from SC/ST and other reserved categories. It observed,
Given the pattern of admission and the procedure adopted where 100% or
entire weightage is given to the interview process, the possibility of bias
and also adverse impact to SC/ST and other reserved category candidates is
palpable and real. Having regard to these facts, the Court is of the opinion
that the JNU and UGC ought to have worked out a criterion to give some
concession to SC/ST category candidates – and to the extent permissible
under the rules, to the OBC category candidates. The same considerations
would also apply to persons with disabilities (PWD) candidates for whom
a 5% reservation is statutorily mandated.
Thus, upholding constitutionally mandated reservations in admissions the

court ruled,
Unequal Spaces 77
The absence of any concession with respect to the minimum qualifying
marks in the written test, in the UGC Regulations of 2016 to reserved
category candidates (SC/ST/OBC) and physically disabled candidates is also
without proper application of mind. Appropriate concession is to be given
by the UGC and the JNU, taking into account the seats filled, having
regard to the implementation of the regulations in the last two academic
years.60
In April 2016, the Committee on the Welfare of Scheduled Caste and Scheduled
Tribes, set up under the Human Resources Development Ministry, examined
the reservation policy at JNU. It stated: “[W]hile SC/ST students clear written
examination with flying colours, they often fail interviews, which is indicative
of latent caste discrimination on part of college authorities and teachers.” In
November 2016, a committee led by Professor Abdul Nafey analysed admission
data from 2012 to 2015 at JNU. The committee said: “The data consistently
indicate the pattern of difference in the written and viva voce marks across all
social categories which indicate discrimination”. It recommended that viva voce
marks be reduced from 30% to 15% during admissions, and for the university
to review the system every three years.61
The conflict generated by the minimum qualifying marks for viva reflects the
uneven distribution and deficit of cultural capital among the SC students when
compared to the dominant social groups. The cultural capital deprivation of SC
students is evidenced by lower levels of education among family members,
lower levels of participation in edifying cultural activities, and in general, a
home environment less conducive to learning, especially in the English lan-
guage. General-entry students who are at the same socio-economic level as SC
students are much more likely to have greater cultural capital, including sig-
nificantly better English language capabilities. The importance of a strong
socio-cultural background, as distinct from high socio-economic status per se, is
suggested also by the over-representation of Brahmins among general-entry
students. Many Brahmin families are of low socio-economic status, but even
they are likely to be much richer than Dalit families in their cultural habitus.62
As Velaskar points out, SC students are generally not accepted by others as
equals – as much because of their inferior socio-cultural backgrounds, as
because of their inferior academic backgrounds and performance.63 Kirpal and
Gupta64 provide a great deal of evidence of the same phenomenon in the IITs.
The more privileged general-entry students have usually benefited not only from
a home environment more conducive to educational success, but also from a
secondary education at schools with better non-academic facilities as well as a
better academic environment. All of this contributes to their relatively confident
disposition and their linguistic competence, both of which go a long way in
interviews and oral examinations. SC students experience considerable social
distancing because of disdain from non-SC students, which tends to be com-
pounded by their own feelings of inferiority. Social discrimination against SC
students in colleges and universities is a fact of Indian life, and to overcome this
78 Unequal Spaces
kind of handicap requires especially strong motivation and effort by an SC
student, as well as a facilitating environment, including friendship and help
from other students,65 empathetic faculty and an enabling environment.
When equality is denied everything is denied. There is no equality in M.

Phil/Ph.D admission, there is no equality in viva-voce, there is only denial
of equality, denying Prof. Sukhadeo Thorat recommendation, denying stu-
dents protest places in Ad-block, denying the education of the marginals.
Muthukrishnan’s (Rajni Krish) last Facebook post
Despite the lofty recommendations, the lived reality for many Dalit students
is to struggle against all odds. Muthukrishnan ruminated under the statue of
Nehru on the JNU campus about his attempts to enrol for master’s and doc-
toral studies. The first two times, he did not learn English ‘properly’ and a
teacher commented during the viva that your language is very simple.66 Another
student was confident about his research proposal, but the minute he entered
the interview hall, one teacher who had failed him in a paper during his mas-
ter’s course expressed surprise that he could clear the MPhil/PhD entrance. He
was just queried on his final grades for graduation and master’s, and nothing on
his research proposal. No one bothered to ask about his area of interest. The
interview panel kept silent and he left the room. He realized that he will not be
selected.67 Dalit students feel apprehensive that they might be asked questions
about their caste identity and family background albeit indirectly.
They asked me what does your father do? I said government service, and
they asked clerk? I said no, peon. Then they attacked me, why are you
here, why are you not working, supporting your family if your father is a
peon? To see how I would react. They also asked specifically to which
caste do you belong to? Because it only says Buddhist on your caste certi-
ficate, I said I am Mahar.68
Students who mention Buddhist or Christian on their certificates are viewed

with suspicion as in many regions it is equivalent to a scheduled caste identity.
In many universities, innocuous questions can reveal the caste identity. “How
much fee did you pay for UGC/UPSC application?” For appearing for these
state sponsored examinations, SC students are exempted from paying fees.
In the case of caste discrimination at AIIMS, some students described their
experience of noncooperation by faculty in following manner:
a) The papers are marked according to past record and the impression the
teacher carry about the concerned student. b) I was asked by faculty
members of my caste. The list of the students provided to teachers has the
caste background of SC/ST students. c) The examiners ask the ‘full’ name.
d) The SC students when failed are humiliated both by students and Junior
Residents and Senior Residents. e) For similar questions higher caste
Unequal Spaces 79
students are given more marks. I experienced in Gynaecology final exam-
ination. f) While taking viva of SC/ST students, most of the examiners
make the examinee feel inferior and at the mercy of examiner. g) I have
been failed in my professional examinations dispute having good internal,
more than the general category student. h) Some higher caste students have
not even attempted full question papers, leaving about 30 to 40 per cent of
question paper; they were passed with 70 per cent of marks. But I attemp-
ted the full question but failed. i) The results of last ten years final exams
will be a testimony to the fact that reserved category students are failed
intentionally and if they are cleared they pass with minimum marks. j)
Despite preparing hard we get fewer marks. k) Even if I do well, I will
never score more than higher caste students with the same acumen.69
The government set up a high-level committee to look into allegations of dis-

crimination at AIIMS. Here, the examination system involves both internal and
external assessment. A large component of the examination has a highly sub-
jective element. The examination system with 50 percent internal assessment
and with a significant role of individual faculty, gives scope for faculty to
misuse this privilege, if he/she wishes to do so. About 84 percent of respondents
mentioned that evaluation in practical and viva was unfair. About 85 percent of
them mentioned that the SC students don’t receive enough time with the
examiners, as compared with the higher caste students. About 40 percent of the
students also mentioned that more difficult questions are generally put to them.
About 76 percent of the respondents reported that the examiner had asked the
caste background; about 84 percent mentioned that their grades were affected
because of their caste background. The self-reported experiences of SC/ST stu-
dents indicate that discrimination takes the form of avoidance, contempt, non-
cooperation, and discouragement and differential treatment by teachers towards
these students.70
Similar incidents occurred at the Vardhman Mahavir Medical College in
Delhi. In the 2004–09 MBBS batch, 25 out of 35 SC/ST students had not cleared
the physiology exam, even by July 2010, having failed repeatedly. Physiology is
a pre-clinical subject, normally cleared in two semesters in the first one-and-a-
half years of admission to the course. These students took a supplementary
exam in October 2010 and again failed to clear it, despite having passed in
other subjects. Failure in the October 2010 test meant they lost another year.
The report says SC/ST students made between four and thirteen attempts at
passing physiology; eight failed despite four to nine attempts and left the
course; 24 have not yet passed despite two to eight attempts. In contrast, not
one general category student failed the physiology exams held in 2007, 2008 and
2009. In the same years, 15, 14 and 25 SC/ST students respectively failed in the
subject. “Most of the active energy of these students is diverted and wasted in
fighting such injustice,” says the report. “It leaves them frustrated, sometimes
compelling them to give up studies midway. Occasionally, it even forces them
to end their life.” “It must be emphasised that the hostility of the college
80 Unequal Spaces
authorities towards SC/ST students is found to be so strong that the latter
always had to approach the information commission with applications under
RTI,” says the report. The college administration very casually mentioned that
the marks were a result of a “typographical mistake”.71 A committee of experts
belonging to AIIMS and Lok Nayak Jai Prakash Narayan Hospital (LNJP),
headed by Dr L. R. Murmu, looked into ongoing discrimination at the college
and found that in the previous five years all the students who had failed the
physiology paper belonged to the backward/scheduled castes. Professor Murmu
noted in his report how a student had failed three years consecutively only by
one mark. Other members of the committee also noted how all the students
who had failed the physiology paper had performed well in other subjects and
had got admission in the college because of their high marks.72
In a strong indictment of the warped notion of merit, the Senthil Kumar
Solidarity Committee, (Hyderabad Central University) categorically stated,
Senthil was aware of all the problems being faced by other SC students in
the School. He was not only beginning to believe that the SC/ST students
were ‘being targeted in the School’, but was also getting anxious about it.
He spoke to friends about the case of one of his friends, who, in spite of
being a CSIR Fellowship holder and clearing all four papers in one attempt
failed to pass the comprehensive viva examination. Such instances led him
to think that the School had too many ‘obstacles’ for someone who wanted
to do a PhD in Physics.73
In order to handle such crises in academic spaces, the UGC Regulation on

Equity provided a detailed charter to prevent institutions and authorities etc.
from victimizing or harassing any student.
i) By announcing, verbally or otherwise, in the class, the names of the caste,

tribes, religion or region of the students. ii) By labelling students as
reserved category in the class. iii) By passing derogatory remarks indicating
caste, social, regional, racial or religious background as reason of under-
performance in the class. iv) By allotting differential time to any student to
meet faculty as compared to other students. v) By keeping any student idle
in the laboratory and not allowing him/her to work even if he/she is
allowed to enter. vi) By earmarking separate seats to any students or a
group of students in the reading hall. vii) By following differential treat-
ment to any student regarding issue of books, journals or magazines etc.
viii) By treating any student or section of students separately in utilizing the
sports facilities on the basis of their caste, creed, region or religion.74
The Act also emphasized preventing discrimination on caste lines in evalua-

tion of answer scripts and the declaration of results of the students, with-
holding information regarding fellowships and the stopping of the same for the
students.75
Unequal Spaces 81
The discussion above is substantiated by the qualitative data from the field as
given below in Tables 3.1 to 3.15.
The Tables 3.1 and 3.2 make it amply clear that caste is the major reason for
discrimination for the respondents during the viva process. The study com-
prised 600 respondents, out of which 188 are females. 101 female students were
lucid that viva is extremely discriminatory. 58 female students said that they
never came across any discrimination. The rest of the female students could not
comment as they were yet to face the viva/interview. 266 male students agreed
that they faced discrimination during viva, while 104 denied any inequity in the
viva. In the state universities, the majority of the male respondents belonged to
the master’s programme compared to research studies across disciplines. It was
found that compared to the SC males, the SC female students entering the uni-
versities hail from a comparatively better economic background, mostly second
generation to be formally educated.
The students in the central universities also cited language as a major site of
exclusion, as the teaching-learning process was usually conducted in English,
whereas in the state universities, the regional languages are preferred. The
Table 3.1 Discriminatory Attitude of Teachers Towards SC Students in Viva/Interviews

Frequency %
Yes 377 62.8
No 162 27
Don’t Know 34 5.7
No Response 12 2
Can’t Say 11 1.8
Not Applicable 4 0.7
Total 600 100
Source: Fieldwork data.
Table 3.2 Reasons for Discrimination During Viva/Interviews

Frequency %
Caste 368 61.3
Language 12 2
Gender 5 0.8
Giving Equal Space 4 0.7
Class 2 0.3
Total 600 100
82 Unequal Spaces
recurrent theme was that prejudice operates against the Dalit students whenever
oral examinations are conducted. To quote some respondents, “Yes, dis-
crimination happens because of personality, caste, class, gender and language as
these are the cultural capitals of upper caste students and teachers”. “Yes,
sometimes they ask very weird questions and they make you feel humiliated.
Mostly faculty is from general category, in order to retain their supremacy they
discriminate against SC students”. “Yes, upper caste teachers have a lot of
prejudices in their mind. When Dalit students come to educational institutions,
they fear of losing their spaces and the idea of equality with untouchables is an
embarrassment for them. They fear the word ‘DALIT’ which is not only a
word but a movement in itself”. A research scholar pointed out, “They could
not stop me giving admission because I am having fellowship. In my Viva, the
questions they asked reflect their casteist attitude. Only two-three faculties
asked relevant questions relating to the topic, others asked where am I from
and what am I doing in the campus?” The respondents were very perceptive
and observed the conduct of the interview. As one student said,
When SC students enter the viva premises only SC faculty asks questions in
general but not other caste faculty. I find this is also another form of dis-
crimination that only SC faculty is asking questions to only SC students.
They (other caste faculty) laugh at us and say ‘how these people are able to
get JRF when they don’t even know how to speak English’.
Another respondent mentioned,
When the university announces the result they indicate star mark against the
name that denotes the SC/ST status. It is indicated irrespective of your qualifying
in other categories such as general category. This facilitates the upper caste stu-
dents/teachers to know the social category. To me, they deliberately asked very
difficult questions in the viva. They know my identity and my political views.
A respondent from an institution which claims to be highly progressive

commented,
Yes, the first tool of discrimination is language, if you have done well in
written and you get good marks they don’t ask much questions so that you
will clear in unreserved category. A Dalit candidate is never placed in the
General Category/Unreserved Category list even if he/she is qualified for it.
The teachers and the conduct of Viva are not sensitive to rural candidates.
Sometimes when the Head of the Department is from the upper caste or
a particular ideological background, students who share the same caste/
ideological credentials feel confident but SC students feel the pressure. They
ask questions related to our family background, if our family background
is not good they discourage us for higher education and suggest us to pre-
pare for some jobs.
Unequal Spaces 83
For Dalit female students in professional courses, the journey is more stren-
uous. “They treat us as lesser individuals”. Overall, the Dalit students found
the viva experience humiliating and patronizing.
Another noxious site of confrontation for Dalit students in academia was the
thorny issue of fellowships/scholarships. The study found that the majority of
the Dalit students, 457 out of the 600 samples depended on various kinds of
scholarships/fellowships like UGC-JRF (99), Rajiv Gandhi Fellowship (91),
Post-Matric Social Welfare Fellowships (143), non-NET (79) and other fellow-
ships (46) to continue with their education. Any discussion on scholarship was
invariably intertwined with merit. As one student poignantly highlighted,
“There is a difference between getting JRF and RGNF. JRF is considered as
merit, but RGNF is considered as charity; upper caste students get merit scho-
larships and SC get government scholarships”. As a respondent observed,
till students were availing JRF, attendance was not compulsory. However,
since Dalit students are getting RGNF, there is more surveillance on their
activities. There is regular attendance and even monthly reports are
required. If they fail to comply by these rules, the supervisor and HOD
might withhold signing their fellowship forms. Informally teachers through
upper caste students monitor the Dalit students – whether they are attend-
ing seminars/workshops or being involved in political activities.
A cursory glance at the stories of suicides/dropouts on campuses would reveal

that denial/withdrawal of scholarship was a potent weapon to discipline the
deviant bodies both by the teachers/supervisors and administrators. When the
question was asked as to how their upper caste peer group or teachers respon-
ded to their fellowships, there were multiple responses from each respondent.
402 responses emphasized that the former feel envious of them, 298 responses
mentioned that this fact was used to humiliate them. There prevailed a general
sense of despair (223) that these people are unworthy (264) for such monetary
aid. As suggested earlier, 170 surprised responses point to the question of merit
as to how ‘these people’ are able to clear exams and get scholarships. Interest-
ingly, 138 responses also point to a positive appreciation.
The Table 3.3 provides details of the perceptions of the dominant caste stu-
dents regarding the availability of fellowships for SC students. Each respondent
was asked to mark multiple responses to the question so as to obtain an entire
range of opinions.
The SC students opined that only 8.60% of their peer group belonging to the
upper castes were appreciative and felt positive about them getting various fel-
lowships. As the Table 3.3 demonstrates, the majority thought that the SC
students are unworthy of such grants and sought to humiliate them. Many
teachers also commented that “because of category you got it, you need not to
worry about, you got into PhD and you will get Rajiv Gandhi National Fel-
lowship”. One common term that was prevalent was that “you are government
sons-in-law” “Yahah sab dalithon ko mufth me hi miltha hai” (here Dalits
84 Unequal Spaces
Table 3.3 Perceptions of Other Caste Students Towards Fellowships Availed by SC
Students
Response
N %
Envy 402 25.10%
Castigate/Humiliate 298 18.60%
Unworthy 264 16.50%
Despondency 223 13.90%
Surprised 170 10.60%
Happy 70 4.40%
Appreciation 68 4.20%
Any Other 65 4.10%
Don’t Know 16 1.00%
No Response 14 0.90%
Can’t Say 12 0.70%
1602 100.00%
Source: Fieldwork data. Respondents provided multiple responses to the question.
receive everything for free), and so it’s easy to avail fellowships. “Ab tho bade
aadme ho gaye” (Now you have become a big man) is the refrain that respon-
dents shared as if earlier they were lesser beings. A student who was availing
RGNF said he often faced comments like, “You are SC, why you are bothering
about anything. Because of reservations you are qualifying for fellowships.”
“Bina mehanat se mil raha hai tumhe” (without doing any effort you are get-
ting). “Yeh to fokat ka paisa hai aur fokat ka admission” (You are receiving
free money and free admission). “Jai bheem wale ko scholarship zaroor milega”
(An Ambedkarite will definitely receive scholarship). “You people get lot of
money; still some of you don’t study well. Why do you people get so many
facilities?” The general assumption is that when SC students get fellowships,
their lifestyle changes, especially for male students. “So are you getting a new
bike, or branded shoes?” “Now you will wear good clothes and also get a
beautiful angel (girlfriend)”.
Scholarships are also ridiculed as handing out pensions at a young age. It also
alters the campus dynamics in a significant manner. As one student from a state
university pointed out,
before I got RGNF no SC/ST scholar paid HRA to the university. In the
year 2015–16 (including myself) a good number of SC/ST scholars from the
university got RGNF. This made the upper caste students to approach the
Vice Chancellor and convince him that even after getting fellowships SCs
are not paying House Rent Allowance (HRA) for the hostels. Since then the
Unequal Spaces 85
university changed the rules and forced the SC/ST scholars who got RGNF
equivalent to JRF to pay HRA.
Similar observations have been made by other researchers too. In reportage,

Monica Jha narrated an incident from Maharashtra. A female student was
seeking admission while standing in the queue. The staff at the counter
shouted at her: “Tumchya baapacha college nahiye. Kuthun pann yaayala.
Fokatcha … Wait” (You come here to study for free. This college doesn’t
belong to your father. You have to wait!). Another student in the same
queue realized that the student was a quota student and could empathize
with her plight as he belonged to a nomadic tribe. He was desperately
trying to shift his college and had all the necessary documents but the pre-
valent casteplaining had him worried that he stands to lose a year if the
officials do not grant him admission in time. He recalled the following
conversation.
‘Admission havan asel tar gapp ghyayacha. Nahitar thaam tujhya HOD
call karun sangto yaa mulala admission naahi dyayacha mhanoon.’
‘Admission ka nahi milnar? Tumcha college aahe ka?’ ‘Magg kaay
tujhya baapacha college aahe ka?’ ‘Itha shikshana majha adhikaar aahe.’
‘Fakt 450 rupye bharun 49 hazaranchi seat pahije ka tula? Jar scholar-
ship nahi milali tar tula poorna 49 hazar bharave lagtil. Aani bolna as
jas bapacha college aahe tujhya.’ (‘Shut up if you want admission. Or,
I’ll complain to the HOD and ask him not to admit you.’ ‘Why won’t
you admit me? Does this college belong to you?’ ‘Does it belong to your
father then?’ ‘Sir, I have a right to study here.’ ‘This seat costs Rs
49,000 and you pay Rs 450. Without a scholarship, you’ll be paying Rs
49,000. And look at how you talk! Like the place belongs to your
father’.)76
During the fieldwork for the present research, a respondent observed as to

how she had to work with a coaching centre to fund her studies as the MPhil
scholarship (Rs 5000) was not disbursed for eight months. The cost of travel,
books, photocopying etc. would be too expensive.
I was forced to borrow money from friends and was always in debt. Also
my family was not supportive of my efforts. The constant pressure made
me very depressed and I could not share my emotions with anyone.
Finally, I was able to get ICSSR Doctoral Fellowship which eased my
burden. In the meantime, I was also selected for RGNF/National Fel-
lowship for Scheduled Caste (NFSC) and I opted for the latter as the
amount and tenure is more generous. When I tried to complete my
paperwork and went numerous times to funding agencies and university
authorities, their attitude was very irksome as if they are giving me
money from their own pockets.
86 Unequal Spaces
As one clerk commented in the ICSSR office, “people like you gobble up the
chances of other meritorious students”. The respondent expressed her frustra-
tion, “They never understood the urgency of clearing the files on time so that
students like us can survive”.
The regular disbursement of scholarships/fellowships from the different funding
agencies through the institutions is a difficult bureaucratic exercise. It is further
rendered problematic due to the prevalent prejudices against Dalit students as
revealed by various testimonies. For the students who depend on fellowships for
survival, any delay either due to punitive action or administrative lapses marks a
question of life and death. In this context, a new initiative by the Kerala govern-
ment could help to mitigate the problem of fellowship dispersal. From the aca-
demic year 2009–10 onwards, with the help of the Centre for Development of
Imaging Technology, the government initiated the “E-grantz Online” system of
crediting the grant to the savings bank account of the students who may withdraw
it using an ATM card. At the time of their admission, students complete an
application form to open a ‘no frills account’ that is used for the transfers. The
institutions as well as the students have separate accounts and thus fees go to the
institution’s account and the stipend, pocket money and fellowships go to the stu-
dent’s account. It was introduced as a pilot project among 3,000 Dalit students in
52 post-matric institutions in Alappuzha district. Enthused by the success of the
pilot project, the state government decided to extend the scheme across the state.
More than three lakh students now benefit from the scheme. It starts at the higher
secondary level and more than 3,000 institutions are covered by the system.77
Despite the heartburn created among upper caste teachers and students
regarding the dispersal of fellowships to SC students, the statistics speak
otherwise. After 2015–2016, there is no data available on the total number of
applications. In addition, though the MHRD data itself reflects that enrolment
of SC females has increased exponentially, the number of total candidates to be
awarded has remained stagnant from 2012–2019. This reflects the lopsided
Table 3.4 Number of SC Applicants (RGNF/NFSC)

Year No. of Applicants Male Female Total No. of
Fellowships
Awarded
2012–2013 8418 NA NA 2000
2013–2014 7736 NA NA 2000
2014–2015 11346 1034 966 2000
2015–2016 NA 1090 910 2000
2016–2017 NA 1340 660 2000
2017–2018 NA 1065 935 2000
2018–2019 NA NA NA 2000
Source: Ministry of Human Resource Development, GOI, Indiastat.com. Rajiv Gandhi National
Fellowship was changed to National Fellowships for Scheduled Castes; NA-data not available.
Unequal Spaces 87
nature of funding for SC students’ education by the state. However, the data in
Tables 2.4 and 2.5 reveals that the funding for fellowships remained stagnant,
despite the increase in SC enrolment in research studies.
Epistemicide of Dalits in the Classroom

The reservation quota is filled by the university because it is constitutionally
mandatory. The system facilitates the entry of the marginalized groups who
would never have been allowed in by the hierarchical social structure. However,
it is very clear from the admission process onwards that it is not a level playing
field. While writing the entrance exam, the scheduled caste and scheduled tribe
candidates are made to sit separately for reasons of “administrative con-
venience” in many universities. In the process of getting admission and gather-
ing information regarding fee structure, courses, hostel facilities, etc., both the
student union and the authorities display a lackadaisical attitude. Many Dalit
students are not given any leeway in depositing fees or documents and they are
often granted conditional admission. Senior Dalit students are the only source
of help to overcome such obstacles, and to negotiate with the authorities. First
generation learners from Dalit families are rendered more vulnerable as they
lack any family guidance to deal with such matters.
After somehow crossing all the initial hurdles and managing to gain entry,
‘ragging’ is the next ordeal to be faced. This is particularly intimidating for
Dalit students struggling to take their first steps in a ‘meritorious’ institution,
and forces many of them to drop out. Ragging of Dalit students can take
especially humiliating forms; for example, ridicule based on the name of caste,
colour or complexion, habits, culture, etc. Even the body language and man-
nerisms of faculty and students belonging to the dominant community can seem
threatening to Dalit students. The authorities generally remain mute spectators
and are reluctant to take strong action against ragging offenders. The student
union’s role was also negligible when any such issue arose. These attitudes only
strengthened the impression about the caste hegemony and academic arrogance
in the campus, especially in the sciences and professional courses.
Such prejudices constitute the campus habitus of Dalit students. As succinctly
argued by Allport, often people take recourse to prejudgments. However, there
is a difference between “ordinary prejudgments,” which all of us periodically
engage in, and prejudice, a special type of prejudgment. Prejudgments become
prejudices only if they are not reversible when exposed to new knowledge.
Allport points out that we emotionally resist evidence that contradicts our
prejudices, unlike that which occurs with ordinary prejudgments. Thus, the key
ingredient of prejudice is resistance to new knowledge. He concludes his dis-
cussion about the characteristics of prejudice with the following definition: “…
prejudice is an antipathy based upon a faulty and inflexible generalization. It
may be felt or expressed. It may be directed toward a group as a whole or
toward an individual because he is a member of that group”.78
88 Unequal Spaces
The bureaucratic semiotics help to identify Dalit students. In many uni-
versities the entrance examination merit list is displayed across courses and
disciplines. These invariably reflect varnashrama dharma. The list begins
with the general category, then OBCs, moving down to SCs and STs. Very
rarely do students from the bottom move upwards into the unreserved
category, even if they score beyond the cut-off marks. Many a time, even if
SC/ST students top the entrance, still their names figure in the reserved
lists only. An asterisk is marked against the names of all the students from
the reserved category, even those who qualify in the general list. Since the
attendance list is prepared according to the admission list, it is easy for the
faculty, office staff and students of the general category to identify Dalit
students.79 Hence, from the initial days, only Dalit students are branded
with their caste identity. Often, Dalit candidates qualify in the unreserved
category for which they are not considered. They are not seen as meritor-
ious in the institutional structure and are considered only as ‘reserved’. In
institutions where such lists are not publicly displayed, there are subtle and
direct ways of knowing the caste identity. During the orientation, innocent
queries of social locales, colleges attended, and names and surnames
directly reveal the caste baggage. If this does not reflect any specific mar-
kers, language skills are a giveaway. The majority of the respondents in
the study were educated in the regional languages and struggled with flu-
ency in English. They appeared inhibited and docile, their dress sense, eti-
quette and subdued body language shouts out their origins. Sometimes, a
loud voice or the aggressive body gesture of a Dalit student may also be
considered as disrespect and indiscipline by an upper caste teacher. Tea-
chers are not patient enough to locate these gestures within the contextual
social background of the students. Instead, they hold the students as
undisciplined, discourteous and arrogant. Further, good English is equated
with disciplinary knowledge, a questionable proposition. There is no room
for less bookish knowledge mixed with experiential knowledge, which is
articulated in broken and grammatically incorrect English to be also
termed as knowledge.80 As a respondent pointed out, “Many times my
fellow students commented on my accent (Bihari tone)”. “The lobby which
is created by the elite students humiliates other students because of their
complexion, language, food habits, body language, dressing (life styles) and
confidence”. “They think that Hindi medium students are weak. For Hindi
medium students there are no facilities also”. “Based on color and lan-
guage (Telugu) students discriminate us. I had a friend who looked fair;
many consider him to be a Brahmin. Students behaved with him more
considerately. Backward caste students once told me that SC/ST students
are ‘lazy’. They underestimate us every time”. For many Dalit students,
gaining access to classroom notes and other readings is a herculean task
due to language issues compounded by peer prejudices. A respondent
noted, “Upper caste students hide books from reference section in library,
so that other students like us don’t get access to them. Many teachers also
Unequal Spaces 89
do not share reading materials with us.” Another respondent put it very
poignantly. “The cultural gap always will be there in the classroom. If the
teachers are from upper caste background, there exists divide between the
teacher and first generation learners”. Interestingly, a politically active
student (office bearer of a right-wing group) commented that he does not
perceive any discrimination in the classroom; but fearing adverse judgment,
he prefers to remain silent. However, he accepted that the feeling of caste
will always be reflected in the working relations between the teachers and
students. Discrimination can also be perceived in marking and grading and
preferential treatment for socially privileged students.
“We are judged on our clothes, language and even food. Upper caste students
do not mingle. Casteist epithets are hurled at us. Even in the most neutral
environment we face prejudices. In worse (situations), violence and even life
threats” says Rohit Kamble, an MPhil scholar at the Department of Sociology
University of Mumbai. The forms are changing, says Matta Srinivas, a research
scholar (Economics) at the University of Hyderabad. “It is not the way my
grandfather recognised it in his village. A lot of times they don’t openly say
‘you are this caste or that’ but their behaviour tells you. The victim knows.”
Ramesh Kamble, a sociologist observed,
It is part of institutional practice and structural design. It is, in fact, one of

the mechanisms of the existing power to deny entitlement. Denial, which is
part of the experience of being Dalit, is reiterated through institutional
practices and reinforced in structures.
Caste discrimination should be looked at not merely as a social practice, but

also as a reaction to Dalits questioning the idea of knowledge the privileged
have held and propagated. “The presence of Dalits forces the recognition of a
different social experience as knowledge. This threatens the exclusive reign of
knowledge that the existing power structure has. That is why they exclude
Dalits systematically”.81
The Table 3.5 reflects that though caste is the most common factor of dis-
crimination in all the institutions, there are certain significant areas where the
forms of discrimination diverge in the central and state universities when the
data is further segregated. In central universities, 123 responses pointed to lan-
guage (English) being a major area of concern compared to 83 responses in the
state universities – as in the latter, the regional languages predominate. Where
ideology is concerned, 93 opinions pointed to ideological differences being a site
of contestation, whereas the corresponding figure for state universities was only
29. The trendy lifestyles, etiquette, the niceties of behaviour were reflected in 70
responses from central universities and only 38 similar opinions from state
universities. Following the class background, discrimination was also linked to
personal appearance and colour. In central universities, there is more diversity
in the student population, and colour and appearance become a significant cri-
terion (122 opinions) while only 87 responses pointed to the outer facade in
90 Unequal Spaces
Table 3.5 Forms of Discrimination in the Classroom/Laboratory/Research Activities
Response
N %
Caste 434 32.60%
Language 206 15.50%
Ideological Background 143 10.80%
Class 108 8.10%
Appearance 108 8.10%
Colour 101 7.60%
Gender 61 4.60%
Region 57 4.30%
Religion 47 3.50%
Tribal Identity 39 2.90%
Any Other 26 2.00%
Total 1330 100.00%
state universities. When the respondents were queried about the social compo-
sition of their peer groups, their answers justified the above findings. The
majority opined that caste and ideological similarities were the basic criteria for
forging peer relationships.
During the course of the study, the research team found that women students
in the state universities were reluctant to share their experiences and generally
maintained a low profile in the public space. At one state university, the female
respondents observed that they attend classes, go to library or laboratory and
then back to home/hostel as they found the campus atmosphere very casteist,
intimidating and misogynistic. They wait for their female friends to accom-
pany them to any public space in the campus. On the contrary, many female
students in the national capital came across as very confident and vocal. As a
respondent pointed out, “I am a first generation learner pursuing research
from my Dalit family. Culturally women are not supposed to go out, but I am
here and many other are coming to university spaces”. She expressed further
that “I have chosen my own space, I hang around with my own ideology
people and I don’t interact with the others much. We have to break the ste-
reotypes”. She further said that, “The teachers act very progressive but act
very dominant when we approach them. We are trying to build our own dis-
course and space in the campus culture”.
When the respondents were directly asked as to who perpetrates discrimina-
tion in the classroom (Table 3.6), the majority responses (381) held upper caste
students responsible. Class and language intertwined to discriminate according
to 393 responses. The prevalent toxic atmosphere in the classroom made the
Unequal Spaces 91
Table 3.6 Perpetrators of Discrimination in the Classroom
Response
N %
Upper Caste Students 381 34.5%
English Medium Students 217 19.6%
Upper Class Students 176 15.9%
Upper Caste Girl Students 119 10.8%
Backward Caste Students 93 8.4%
Any Other 50 4.5%
Students from Other Sub-Castes 33 3.0%
Same Caste Students 13 1.2%
No Response 8 0.7%
Lower Caste Girl Students 7 0.6%
Don’t Know 5 0.5%
(LGBTQIA) students 3 0.3%
1105 100.0%
respondents nervous and scared of participating in various class activities, as

suggested by 426 responses. The intersectionality between caste, class and
gender is evident when 119 opinions thought that upper caste girl students also
discriminate against them in the classroom. The graded hierarchy of the caste
apparatus is also operative, as 93 responses expressed that the other backward
communities (OBCs) also treat the Dalit students differently. The study also
reveals that the fruits of reservations/affirmative action have not been equitably
distributed, as sub-caste differences are also a major cause for discrimination as
observed from 33 responses. This concern has also been flagged by other
research studies82 wherein the social gulf between the SC communities reveals
the graded inequalities.
The Table 3.7 makes it amply clear that 411 respondents across institutions
believed that teachers exhibit discriminatory attitude towards them at different
pedagogical spaces. However, there are certain significant markers which make
central universities a more contested domain for Dalit students. Even a cursory
glimpse at the data available in the public domain reveal that central uni-
versities are more politically and ideologically vibrant, the faculty and students
are organized across political affiliations and there are more cases of Dalit stu-
dents committing suicides due to reasons of discrimination and exclusion.
However, 156 students also denied any discrimination by the teachers.
The respondents were unanimous that their social location plays a significant
role in the grades awarded to them. A student pointed out that he topped the
92 Unequal Spaces
Table 3.7 Discrimination by Teachers in the Classroom/Laboratory/Research Activities
Response
Frequency %
Yes 411 68.5
No 156 26.0
Can’t Say 13 2.2
Don’t Know 12 2.0
No Response 5 0.8
Total 600 100.0
entrance exam of a central university in Delhi but was only given two marks in
viva. A female student observed from the same university,
Despite performing well in the class, I scored less in MA. Because I am an

assertive SC student I feel discriminated. Since my M.Phil dissertation was
dedicated to dalits, women and oppressed communities, I got fewer grades,
even though I qualified through general category.
There were 193 opinions which noted that ideological beliefs are another site
for being discriminated against by the teachers. As argued by Vivek Kumar,83
the binary of a docile Dalit vis-à-vis the outspoken Ambedkarite is evident from
a student’s response.
Being an Ambedkarite is more discriminatory than being SC. Because of

that I feel fearful. I don’t have certainty in my future even after having
reasonably good Curriculum Vitae. I am thinking to go abroad and do post
doctorate. I will go to any country, but want to leave this country. They
make me feel depressed, mentally depressed and kill any sense of belonging
towards the institution.
Needless to mention, Rohith’s struggle in Hyderabad University was ideolo-

gical, his political journey from right wing to left politics and eventually to the
Ambedkarite position. The entire history of the Ambedkar Students Association
and Velivada84 is a metaphor of the ideological battles on campuses.85
The study data reflects that 119 responses from central universities and 74
responses from state universities said that ideological contradictions are a sig-
nificant aspect of the classroom/laboratory and in the wider campus relation-
ships. Interestingly, the research team learned that post Rohith Vemula’s
‘institutional murder’, even in state universities; political ideologies are creating
fault lines in the campuses. Unfortunately, despite the student and faculty
Unequal Spaces 93
Table 3.8 Various Forms of Discrimination by the Teachers
Response
N %
Marking and grading discrimination based on caste identity 328 12.2%
Language-based discrimination 262 9.8%
Favoring for against particular student/community/region 253 9.4%
Ideological beliefs 193 7.2%
Denial of opportunities 189 7.0%
Preferential treatment for the socially privileged students 189 7.0%
No reading/material guidelines 181 6.7%
Non-cordial working relationships 168 6.3%
Gender-based discrimination 165 6.1%
Not facilitating participation in the classroom 163 6.1%
Non-approval of term papers and assignments 138 5.1%
Non-cooperation or rejection of thesis/chapters 126 4.7%
Threat of attendance shortage 105 3.9%
Denying infrastructural facilities 105 3.9%
Non-attestation of fellowship form 104 3.9%
Any other 10 0.4%
Don’t know 4 0.1%
No response 3 0.1%
Can’t say 1 0.0%
Total 2687 100.0%
diversity, central universities are accused of preference towards socially privi-

leged caste/community/region students, as observed by 144 responses whereas it
is limited to 109 responses in state universities. The intersectionality of caste/
region/community was very apparent in the central universities as commented
by the respondents. The gendered opinion (male responses who agreed, 104 out
of 144 responses) of these phenomena was predominant in central universities.
The discrimination on the basis of language was a common factor in all the
universities. As pointed out by a respondent, research guides behaved differently
with Dalits and with upper caste students. One professor used to pat the back
of the male students to verify his caste origins by feeling for the sacred thread
on the back. Whenever there were opportunities to participate in different kind
of competitions (debates, seminars, writing essays), faculties would send upper
caste students to represent the department. The argument given was that the
Dalit students’ language was local (cheri basha86). When the respondents were
94 Unequal Spaces
asked as to the basis for awarding high grades in the classroom, 423 responses
pointed to caste, 187 to gender. For grading, OBCs (47), SCs (45) and STs
obtained the least marks.
Another respondent observed that in the Telugu department of his university,
teachers behave in a feudal manner. They expect complete obedience from the
students. He points out that,
Obedience means wishing faculty by touching their feet, not wearing the
modern dress, having good-mannered friendship, not roaming with girls,
respecting teacher while passing, carrying teachers’ belongings wherever
they appear, helping teachers in their domestic work, reaching before your
teacher comes to the department and leaving after the teacher leaves the
department, not be seen at a public gathering, not being politically active,
not raising voice against teachers and such behaviour which displays their
total slavery. This is nothing but teachers must be respected as superiors
and students must be maintained as inferiors.
A decade ago, the Senthil Kumar Solidarity Committee have also made similar
observations,
Senthil Kumar’s suicide lies at the intersection of the academic malpractices

of the School of Physics, the exclusivity of the ‘pure sciences’, the re-formed
untouchability practised in university spaces and the threat to the status
quo posed by reservation. Each of these questions has to be addressed if
higher education is to be enabling and not merely accessible, for the large
numbers of students who struggle to gain entry into it, only to be met with
indifference, or downright hostility and humiliation. Reservations may
provide access, but as Senthil’s death shows, the battle for democratising
our institutions – and a genuinely progress-oriented science – is of a dif-
ferent order altogether.87
Campus Predators
The respondents acquiesced that there exists a lack of cordial working relations
between teachers and SC students, as the former are reluctant to interact, to
share reading materials and extend moral and psychological support to the
latter. Many departments delay in allotting supervisors to SC research students.
Many a time, the supervisors act in a prejudiced manner, which has also resul-
ted in delay or rejection of the thesis, assignments and term papers, etc. A
respondent observed that he was putting up banners for a political rally when
he saw his supervisor and greeted her. She felt that he was not polite enough
and refused to continue supervising him. Finally, he shifted to another teacher
and completed his thesis. The problem is more acute in central universities, as
revealed by 252 compared to 180 responses from state universities. These
responses reveal the consciousness amongst the respondents about the problems
Unequal Spaces 95
they face and the need to verbalize them for better solutions. In the extreme
cases, there are incidents of violence and even student suicides88 (eight students’
suicides in a decade) as exemplified in HCU. In less than a decade, 23 Dalit
students have committed suicide in premier educational institutions including
HCU.89 Students like Senthil Kumar, Madari Venkatesh and Rohith Vemula to
name a few, were desperate and under immense stress as they were not allotted
supervisors even after the course work was over. For science students like Sen-
thil and Venkatesh the problem is graver as they need the laboratory space to
continue their experiments to keep up with their peer group. In a similar inci-
dent, a female student was denied entry into the campus laboratory but was
repeatedly asked for her work progress. Subsequently, she borrowed some
materials from her friends and entered the laboratory only to find that her
supervisor had locked the door from outside. Though she filed many official
complaints, there was no action taken and the concerned faculty continued to
teach and supervise other students.90
The respondents’ observations make it clear that despite lofty claims of various
progressive laws against caste and gender discrimination, there is a negligible dif-
ference amongst state and central universities when it comes to providing an
enabling environment for the Dalit students. Compared to 95 responses in central
universities, 63 responses from state universities blamed their supervisors of steal-
ing their data. This is especially true of sciences where central universities receive
more funding, more opportunities to publish and travel grants for attending semi-
nars/workshops both at the national and international levels. For girl students, this
also creates a very toxic atmosphere where any protest can have dire consequences.
Their marital status or lack of it is also a concern for their supervisors.91 A few
female respondents in the present study corroborated this idea. “Some professors
make their research scholars work in their houses. At times they ask us to teach
Table 3.9 Forms of Exploitation by Research Supervisors

Response
N %
Examining Answer Sheets 268 16.8%
Domestic Help 259 16.3%
Exam Invigilation 257 16.1%
Sexual Harassment 218 13.7%
Body Shaming 180 11.3%
Gaining Emotional Sympathy From the Scholar 169 10.6%
Exploiting/Stealing Your Data/Idea for His/Her Own Research 158 9.9%
Any Other 83 5.2%
Total 1592 100.0%
96 Unequal Spaces
their wards”. “An upper caste teacher expects sexual favours, without that he
won’t allow us to complete our PhDs. He forces girls to break their personal
relationships. A complaint was registered in the Sexual Harassment Cell after that
only a girl student was able to submit her thesis”. “Even senior students in sciences
departments exploit junior students particularly girls”. “An upper caste lady tea-
cher asks us for domestic help and to pick up and drop her children. She also
expects SC students to clean her toilets”. The most common observation was that
upper caste teachers force the research scholars to add their names when the latter
publish their research articles. Many students voiced their concern that their emails
are monitored. Their mobiles are tracked, and they are forced to endure unwanted
physical touch. These incidents occur more in the science and professional courses
as students work closely on various projects with their supervisors/teachers. The
faculty very ingeniously categorizes students, especially research scholars. Some are
supposed to carry their bags, keep their rooms tidy and do other menial jobs. The
upper caste students endowed with English language skills are used for academic
support and encouraged to go abroad, write academic papers and secure good
jobs.
Any conversation on harassment, especially sexual harassment is a taboo,
and many girl respondents were unwilling to discuss this issue. Interestingly,
the male students opened up about the prevalence of the problem in labora-
tories and other spaces. It is possible to deduce from the respondents’ opinions
that university spaces are extremely difficult for Dalit girl students to negotiate.
As many of them pointed out, body shaming is intrinsic to Indian tradition but
the culture of silence around sexual harassment makes it tricky to survive in
academia. The male supervisors even tried to gain emotional sympathy by dis-
cussing their personal issues. As Table 3.10 reveals, 275 opinions pointed out
that caste plays a major role in faculty preferences for supervision. Hence, Dalit
students both male and female are left with very few options to choose their
supervisors, as university teaching positions for SC/ST/OBCs are seldom filled.
As pointed out by few students, even Dalit faculty take advantage of their
situation and sexually exploit them. Another PhD girl student from a rural and
poor background experienced sexual comments and threats frequently. She was
selected by the same professor with promising words like “since you and I are
from the same caste, we should work mutually so as to be trouble-free”. As she
regards education, especially a PhD, as an important dream of her life; she has
tolerated all this from day one to the present. The professor also intervenes in
her personal matters and controls her mobility, such as whom to speak to and
where to go. As his attempts at sexual exploitation have failed, he tries to seize
as much money as possible from her monthly fellowship.92 Many similar cases
are reported in the press, regardless of caste,93 but eventually the decisions
seldom provide closure to the complainants. In most cases, campuses fail to
maintain proper records of harassment issues.
Apart from caste and academic interests, ideology and political connections
also play a major role in supervisory decisions. It promotes that it sets up
camaraderie between supervisors and students. However, the deprecating
Unequal Spaces 97
Table 3.10 Faculties’ Preferences for Supervision
Response
N %
Caste 275 19.8%
Academic Expertise 220 15.8%
Ideological Inclinations 201 14.5%
Political/Bureaucratic Connections of the 137 9.9%
Student
Language 103 7.4%
Gender 90 6.5%
Economic Background 80 5.8%
Fellowships 68 4.9%
Religious Background 62 4.5%
Regional Background 53 3.8%
Any Other 53 3.8%
No Response 18 1.3%
Can’t Say 10 0.7%
Total 1390 100.0%
remarks against the ‘Jai Bheem walas’, ‘Ambedkarite scholars’ makes it difficult
for Dalit-Bahujan students to feel comfortable working with such teachers.
Generally, in many universities, from post graduation onwards, the students
start hedging their bets as to who will be a better supervisor, who can negotiate
research seats for them and also help them to land teaching jobs. In local par-
lance, it’s called ‘jugaad’ or networking. The caste and ideological capital play a
major role. Similarly, faculties also strive to promote their ‘pet’ students by
giving them extra marks, providing them with more academic exposure and in
the process, manufacturing ‘meritorious’ students. Many teachers prefer to
supervise only those students from bureaucratic or politically strong back-
grounds, which will also elevate their social and academic profile. There exists
a fine balancing line between ‘good’, ‘bad’ and ‘weak’ students. As argued by
Satish Deshpande,
the ‘bad’ student is an agential and individualised category; it arises from

the choices made by the agent or his/her personal attributes, e.g. the refusal
to put in the requisite work, or a lower-than-average level of intrinsic
ability or intelligence. By contrast, a ‘weak’ student is a structural category
that has little to do with agency, personal choices or individual attributes.
98 Unequal Spaces
The ‘weak’ student is one whose educational training has been deficient,
and who does not have access to the forms of social or cultural capital that
can offset these deficiencies. Therefore, the student’s ‘weakness’ is not due
to any individual traits, but to the educational and social milieu to which
he/she belongs.94
This is very pertinent, as often Dalit-Bahujan students are dismissed as ‘weak’

or non-meritorious, “they are like this only”, “they get fellowships easily”.
As tokenism, one or two students from Dalit, tribal or a religious minority
are chosen to supervise by many faculties, albeit hailing from an urban, English
medium background. Needless to mention, the Dalit-Bahujan students who hail
from peripheries and are unfamiliar with the rules of the academic game are at
a loss. As stated by many respondents in the study, silence is the only option for
many students. A few of them also shared their anguish that they had to forego
their fellowships as they were unable to negotiate this terrain. In many state
universities, students who receive fellowships are preferred, as then the admin-
istrative staff and a few supervisors can demand their share.
Ghettos on Campus
The markers of caste have penetrated every edifice of the university. There are
certain subtle and sophisticated forms of casteplaining. A legal student reflected
on his law school experiences.
I realised that people were allotted rooms based on the marks they got in
the Common Law Admission Test (CLAT). Students belonging to SC/ST
and domicile category were given rooms on the upper floors of the hostel,
while those belonging to the general category were given rooms on the
ground floor for the first two years; the rationale being rooms allotted on
the basis of marks. However, it essentially also meant the ghettoisation of
those who had secured admission through reservation. Due to this, many
students from the upper floor could not mingle freely with people on the
ground floors, nor could they build good friendships due to the segregation
that was so visible for those on the upper floors and mostly invisible for
those on the ground. Over the next few months, the segregation developed
into fragmentation within the batch various groups were formed. There
were casual statements passed from students on ground floor of the hostels,
like: ‘Tum log padhte kyun nahi ho’ (Why don’t you people study)?95
“Fuck off from this wing”, screams a poster warning SC medical students at

the AIIMS hostel. The report provides details as to how parts of AIIMS hostels
are turning into SC/ST ghettos. Reserved category students said they were being
“hunted out of the remaining rooms” by upper-caste students and driven to two
floors of the hostels. An engraved message on the door of Room No. 49
(Hostel-1) bears testimony to their concerns. The inscription, spiced with
Unequal Spaces 99
abusive language, asks the room’s occupant, a scheduled caste student to “get
out of this (hostel) wing”. With almost half the reserved category students since
then seeking reallocation of their rooms, the message seems to have worked.
The top floors of Hostels No. 4 and 5 of the country’s premier medical school
have 32 rooms in all, of which 27 are occupied by SC/ST students. Of the 250
students at the institute, 55 are SC/ST.96 Monica Jha quotes Sukadeo Thorat on
physical segregation in the hostels.
In Patna, they have a Yadav hostel and a Kayasth hostel. In Allahabad

University, they have separate hostels for Hindus, Muslims and Christians.
The Ministry of Social Justice builds separate hostels for SC/ST students,
which is another way of segregating students. They should rather reserve
seats for SC/ST students in common hostels.97
Hence, in many universities, hostels are dominated by region, caste, religious

and linguistic affinities and students also prefer to opt for such ‘safe’ spaces.
This is not a new phenomenon as Uma Ramaswamy in her research on SCs in
Andhra Pradesh also had pointed out the prevailing caste domination in uni-
versity hostels.98 In the present study, 341 respondents (both males and females)
mentioned that they stay in hostels and the rest were unable to avail hostel
admission due to lack of rooms, limited hostel facilities, lack of infrastructure
and adequate support. To a direct question on SC students facing discrimina-
tion in the hostel, 131 respondents acquiesced to different forms of unfair
treatment. The following table (Table 3.11) reflects on the prejudices faced by
students in the hostels.
In the hostel, the binaries are structured around caste, sub-caste, seniority
and food preferences, political divisions, lifestyles and appearances.
If north-east students cook food in their rooms, if the food smells it

becomes an issue. Bodily appearances of dalit boys are the reason for dis-
crimination in the hostel. They look dark in colour, their tummy will be
visible.99 Regional food preferences are also discriminatory like north
Indian food and south Indian food.
They body shame us if any SC male student is obese; they compare us
with pigs.
Whenever anyone litters the washroom, they start doubting me. Once
a Brahmin hostel-mate came with a complaint that ‘you have littered
the pantry!’. I replied: ‘I did not use pantry today, so how could I
litter?’ She said there is part of onion left in the pantry and ‘you know I
am Brahmin, and I don’t eat onion’, then defiantly she said, ‘you would
have littered’ and ‘you must wash it’. Although I denied it, she humi-
liated me a lot.100
In many hostels, vegetarian and non-vegetarian tables are segregated. Many

dominant caste students get their own plates and glasses to have food in the
100 Unequal Spaces
Table 3.11 Discrimination Faced by SC Students in the Hostels
Response
N %
Caste 124 36.4%
Ideologies 30 8.8%
Lifestyle 28 8.2%
Language 24 7.0%
Food Habits (Veg/Non-Veg) 23 6.7%
Religion 19 5.6%
Region 17 5.0%
Subject/Discipline 17 5.0%
Gender 11 3.2%
Bodily Appearance 11 3.2%
Food Serving Staff 9 2.6%
Can’t Say 1 0.3%
No Response 1 0.3%
Total 341 100.0%
mess hall to avoid ‘pollution’ and maintain ‘purity’. Similarly, a debate raged
on social media about meat-eating students being asked to get separate plates at
IIT Bombay.101 Dalit food habits and their unfamiliarity with cutlery are ridic-
uled.102 An empirical study on dietary choices points out that hostel menus
reflect only widely accepted vegetarian and non-vegetarian food items like
chicken and mutton. Contrary to hegemonic claims, there is social tolerance for
beef and pork items among the students.103 In one state university, the Dalit
students are derogatively called ‘beef eaters’. A student leader belonging to a
rightist organization shared that, “in hostels groupings do exist. As per food
habits in Andhra and Telangana region, particularly, beef eating does not come
from cow but the bull which is not a cultural-religious issue. Hence, my brah-
min friends do not have problem with beef eating”. On many campuses, infor-
mal rules for SC students are prevalent. As pointed out by female respondents,
SC girls need to respect the hostel curfew, which is not the case for dominant
caste girls. “Brahma is the creator and Kamma (upper caste community in
Andhra Pradesh and Telangana) is the ruler. In the girls hostel A, a dominant
caste student pursuing B.Tech makes her juniors to work for her. She exploits
SC girls in the hostel”. In the hostels, SC boys are respected if they own bikes
or wear good clothes and have a girlfriend. Interpersonal gendered relationships
are a thorny area.
Unequal Spaces 101
They made lists of people who would never date in college or are just
incapable of dating anyone at all in the university. And, invariably, the list
consisted of names exclusively belonging to students from the upper floors
as it was occupied by SC students. In the girl’s hostels, many students from
the reserved categories were ridiculed for their fashion sense or for pro-
nouncing a few words in English incorrectly.104
Girls usually do not come out vocally on this issue. Bullying in case of
girls is as much a reality as in case of boys. The girls are not vocal about
their problem because of the fear … just suffer without complaining. In
case of hostel, the SC/ST girls are not separated in one single hostel. But
they do live in a group. Social isolation is as much a problem for girls as it
is for boys.105
‘Delinquent’ Students and Campus Surveillance

The past few years have witnessed increasing turmoil on campuses due to
various reasons: reservation issue, fee hikes, lack of infrastructure, political
ideologies, gendered critiques of social rules of behaviour – for example,
Pinjra Tod in Delhi University and female students’ protests in Banaras
Hindu University for a safe campus, Aligarh Muslim University girls pro-
testing to access the library. The dissenting voices on campus have sought to
challenge the established status quo and made the ruling class uneasy
regarding academic activities. The teachers were taken to task for not ‘dis-
ciplining’ the students and failing in their ‘national duty’. Increasingly,
campus spaces are being viewed as enemy territories which need to be
recaptured and sanitized. In this scenario, Dalit-Bahujan students face
double jeopardy as any form of punishment for any misdemeanour is a life-
threatening moment. They lack alternative resources to cope with punitive
action. In the case of the ten Dalit students rusticated by HCU in 2002, the
Anveshi Law Committee pointed out the following:
(a) The students have been in police lock-up for six days without warrant
and without their parents being informed. Their incarceration was marked
by tension, sleepless nights, anxiety and extreme hardship. (b) Once they
were released on bail, they had no place to stay, and no fellowships for
monetary support. They were able to survive only because of the generosity
of their Dalit friends who shared their CSIR/UGC fellowships with them.
(c) During the 45 days between the university’s decision and the court’s
interim order, they have had to face the terrifying prospect of their per-
manent banishment from academic life (in which they, their family, and
their community had invested for long years).106
A similar incident occurred in JNU in 2010, when a scuffle ensued between a

group of upper caste boys and a Dalit student, who intervened to protect his
brother from the clutches of the former. Some fellow students and the security
102 Unequal Spaces
staff intervened to save the latter. The upper caste students were fined and sus-
pended but for the Dalit student, everything turned upside down. Almost a year
later, the chief proctor of the JNU, with the approval of the vice-chancellor,
declared the whole of the JNU campus out-of-bounds for him and debarred him
from taking admission in any programme of study in the JNU in future. He had
already applied for admission in the JNU and topped the merit list for the MPhil
Programme in European Studies, and the Russian and Central Asian Studies
centres. The office order of the chief proctor prevented him from appearing for
the viva voce examination for admission. His appeals to the vice-chancellor, the
chief proctor, and the head of the equal opportunity office to allow him provi-
sionally to appear for the viva voce examination, failed to move the JNU
administration. As a last resort, he applied to the Delhi High Court for redressal
of his grievances. The judgement stated, “Sadly, the stark reality of caste pre-
judice has been highlighted in this case. There is no more justice where the victim
and the oppressor are treated alike. As where the lion and the lamb are afforded
the same treatment. That JNU has done so, betrays its callousness.” He advised
the university to admit him and ordered it to pay him within two weeks Rs
25,000 as cost of the proceedings. Incredibly – as a pointer to its attitude on
caste – the JNU administration chose to challenge the judgment in the higher
court and the Dalit student is yet to find a place in the university.107
As argued by Kesava Kumar, the upper caste students do not need any
organization or agitation since their interests are always safeguarded by the
university system. The nexus between students-teachers-administration of upper
castes is very strong. The whole system is totally dominated by them. So, their
interests are taken care of by this dominant system. They project themselves as
‘against politics’ and ‘only for academics’. The imagined threat from the Dalit
students too is not ruled out.108 No wonder that 325 respondents in the present
study stated that they face some form of surveillance on the campus.
The Tables 3.12, 3.13, 3.14 and 3.15 reveal that administrative surveillance
and apathy is common to all the universities. The students felt that there is lack
of sympathy if not explicit hostility and that the administration treated the
Table 3.12 Political Debates/Participation by SC Students on Campuses

Frequency %
Yes 386 64.3
No 190 31.7
Don’t Know 10 1.7
No Response 8 1.3
Can’t Say 4 0.7
Total 600 100.0
Unequal Spaces 103
Table 3.13 Administrative Restrictions on SC Students’ Activities on Campuses?
Frequency %
Yes 285 47.5
No 189 31.5
Don’t Know 91 15.2
Can’t Say 22 3.7
No Response 13 2.2
Total 600 100.0
Table 3.14 Surveillance on Campuses

Response
N %
Administrative Staff Surveillance 212 39.0%
Teacher/Supervisor Surveillance 152 27.9%
Peer Group Surveillance 129 23.7%
Any Other 35 6.4%
Can’t Say 8 1.5%
Don’t Know 6 1.1%
No Response 2 0.4%
Total 544 100.0%
Table 3.15 Punitive Action on SC Students on Campuses

Frequency %
SC Students 225 37.5
Can’t Say 39 6.5
No Response 30 5.0
OBC Students 19 3.2
Other Caste Students 7 1.2
ST Students 6 1.0
Religious Minorities Students 5 .8
Any Other 4 .7
Total 600 100.0
104 Unequal Spaces
former’s presence as an interruption in their otherwise important activity.
Responses to visits ranged from “come later”, “don’t you see I am busy now?”
to “Your presence is an irritation to me” (this last in an air-conditioned room).
The students wondered what the work of the administration was if not to deal
with their problems as students.109 The English and Foreign Languages Uni-
versity issued 16 show-cause notices in a semester, including 12 on a single day,
and initiated disciplinary action against 11 students for staging protests. Further
action would include suspension from the hostel and stopping of PhD fellow-
ships for three to six months.110 However, teachers/supervisors keep a close
watch on their students in state universities according to 89 respondents (61
males) and the figure for central universities is 63 respondents (41 males).
Interestingly, in central universities, the peer group scrutiny is more (73
respondents) compared to state universities (56 respondents). A respondent
said, “They try to see whom I am befriending, where do I go, how many friends
do I have and also my personal relationships”. Needless to mention, campuses
which are politically active are frequently under the scanner. The respondents
pointed out that close circuit cameras observe their movements closely. The
political groups on campus also monitor the students. On many campuses, the
programmes organized by Dalit students are often video-recorded. The past few
years have witnessed the emergence of many organizations devoted to the cause
of social justice and safeguarding the interests of the Dalit-Bahujan students. To
name a few such organizations: Ambedkar Periyar Study Circle in IIT Madras,
Ambedkar Students Associations in many universities, Dalit Student Unions,
Bahujan Student and Social Justice Forums, Birsa Ambedkar Phule Student
Associations, United Dalit Students Forum, and the Youth for Social Justice etc.
In some campuses, post Rohith and Muthukrishnan incidents, the administra-
tion resorted to tapping the phones of students actively involved in the protests.
Attendance, especially in laboratories and for availing fellowships is com-
pulsory on many campuses and invariably Dalit students face more punitive
action in this regard. There is more emphasis on patriotism111 and organizing
activities to inculcate the nationalistic spirit. Academic activities are monitored
while the administration has no problems in permitting pujas etc., as stated by
a student. Dalit-Bahujan cultural activities like celebrating Mahisasur Jayanti or
beef festivals are always considered problematic. In EFLU, the students decided
to celebrate Asura Week from 9th to 15th September 2013. The idea was meant
to reclaim the university space for marginalized cultural practices, each day of
the week dedicated to an Asura icon and programmes were held for students to
participate in. These programmes consisted of a face-painting competition, art
installation (Theme: Surpanakha), a public canvas painting (Theme: Memories
of Oppression), open forum (Resisting Dominance: Articulating Cultural
Resistance), and an academic seminar (Title: Reinterpreting Indian History:
Redefining Secularism in University Spaces). The university filed a criminal case
(dated: 11/09/13) against six students (four students from the SC/ST/OBC
communities and two women students) with the Osmania Police Station (Case
Details: Crime No. 350/2013 U/S 153 (A) IPC). They were charged with the
Unequal Spaces 105
grave offence of, “Promoting enmity between different groups on ground of
religion, race, place of birth, residence, language, etc. and doing acts prejudicial
to maintenance of harmony”112. On the contrary, the administration refused to
act when a series of complaints were raised by SC/ST students against a parti-
cular faculty from 2013 to 2017. Instead, defamation charges were filed against
the complainants.113
Such controversies arise when attempts are made to homogenize cultural
practices. Any difference of opinion is characterized as anti-national. EFLU had
earlier issued notices to three students – one for screening a movie without the
administration’s permission, another to mess secretaries for serving chicken in
the hostel mess on Gandhi Jayanti, and another for a Facebook post against the
Swachh Bharat Abhiyan on October 5.114 Students who organized seminars,
documentary screenings, public lectures and even protests highlighting caste or
human rights issues face the full fury of the institutional power. Enquiry com-
mittees are set up, suspension notices are issued, fellowships are arbitrarily
stopped, which cuts off the lifeline of Dalit students. A respondent pointed out
that “the administration punishes us in various ways. They conduct enquiry
committees and harass the students by sending notices not to organize programs
but this does not happen with ABVP”. An ABVP student leader corroborated
this opinion and said that the administration is supportive of all issues rather
than any specific caste-based issue.
According to the information provided by the respondents, Dalit students
face more punitive action (225 respondents). There were 265 respondents who
said that they have not come across such incidents as they are not politically
active. For those students who do not stay in hostels they are less aware of such
issues. In the majority of cases, Dalit students hesitate to file complaints or even
question the authorities, teachers etc., fearing more stringent action. When the
researchers talked to the respondents, a few of them used the third person to
share their experiences, that such and such a thing happened to a friend or
someone they know. They were unwilling to share many details.
The data from the field bears ample testimony to the deep-rooted prejudices
against SC students on campuses and the embedded casteplaining, which is nor-
malized. There exist very few avenues for them to redress their grievances despite
the assurances by the UGC guidelines or the Thorat Committee Report. More
than a decade since Senthil’s tragic demise to Payal Tadvi’s institutional murder,
only platitudes are provided and no strenuous remedy has been worked out by the
concerned authorities. The faculty, administration, and the larger civil society are
all culpable in the continuing brazen disregard and denial of socio-cultural capital
to SC students. The NEP 2020 fails to mention such issues of marginality, equity
and discrimination, which reflect the lackadaisical approach by the policy makers.
What is important to note here is that the marginalized students from rural
areas are deeply committed to the transformation wrought by higher education.
Metropolitan students who don’t succeed simply find another job, start a busi-
ness, or recuperate and start again somewhere else. For these marginalized stu-
dents, this opportunity is the only one, and the expected disgrace of having to
106 Unequal Spaces
live a life in the town or village in minor occupations closes off any return
options. Many students felt that this loss of status and face was simply not a viable
option, and it is likely the students who committed suicide chose death as the only
remaining alternative. The tragedy is that the system exerts this enormous pressure
on those most fully committed to the educational transformation.115
Notes
1 A female respondent from a Central University in North India.
2 A female respondent from a Central University in South India.
3 Radhika Vemula, quoted by Srinivas Janyala, “Behind Rohith Vemula’s Suicide:
How Hyderabad Central University showed him the door”, https://indianexpress.
com/article/india/india-news-india/behind-dalit-student-suicide-ho
w-his-university-campus-showed-him-the-door/ Accessed 12 June 2018.
4 Visvanathan Shiv, “Rusticating Dreams”, www.deccanchronicle.com/columnists/
210116/rusticating-dreams.html January 21, 2016. Accessed 12 June 2018.
5 For more details N. Sukumar, “Living a Concept: Semiotics of Everyday Exclu-
sion”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43, No. 46, November 15, 2008; Senthil
Kumar Solidarity Committee, “Caste, Higher Education and Senthil’s ‘Suicide’”,
Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43, No. 33, 16–22 August 2008.
6 Raju-Venkatesh Solidarity Committee, “Report on Recent Dalit Student Suicides at
University of Hyderabad”, 2nd December 2013, https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?
option=com_content&view=article&id=7079:report-on-recent-dalit-student-suicides-at-
university-of-hyderabad&catid=122&Itemid=138 Accessed 10 June 2018.
7 Keer Dhananjay, “Welcome speech by Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar at Milind Maha-
vidyalaya Aurangabad”, 1951, pp. 121–122.
8 Byapari Manoranjan, Interrogating My Chandal Life: An Autobiography of a
Dalit, (translated by Sipra Mukherjee), Sage-Saamya Publications, 2018.
9 Ghose Sagarika, “The Dalit girl who became a Sanskrit Pandita: The incredible
story of Dr Kumud Sonkuwar Pawde”, https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/blogs/
bloody-mary/the-dalit-girl-who-became-a-sanskrit-pandita-the-incredible-story-of-
dr-kumud-sonkuwar-pawde/ Accessed 25 December 2019.
10 Tilly C., cited in Sidanius et al., “Social Dominance Theory: Its Agenda and
Method”, Political Psychology, Vol. 25, No. 6, 2004, p. 846.
11 Sidanius et al., “Social Dominance Theory: Its Agenda and Method”, Political
Psychology, Vol. 25, No. 6, 2004, p. 847.
12 Ibid., pp. 847–848.
13 Ibid., p. 84.
14 Harriss-White Barbara, “India’s Socially Regulated Economy”, Paper for the 7th
International Conference on Institutional Economics, University of Hertfordshire:
Institutions and Economic Development Working Paper Number 133, http://work
ingpapers.qeh.ox.ac.uk/RePEc/qeh/qehwps/qehwps133.pdf, pp. 4–5. Accessed 15
July 2019.
15 Nambissan G. B. “Terms of Inclusion: Dalits and the Right to Education”, in Ravi
Kumar (Ed). The Crisis of Elementary Education in India, (pp. 224–265), New
Delhi, Sage Publications, 2006, p. 259.
16 Nambissan G. B. “Exclusion and Discrimination in Schools: Experiences of Dalit
Children”, Working Paper Series, 1(1) Indian Institute of Dalit Studies and
UNICEF, New Delhi, 2009, pp. 1–31.
17 Ibid., pp. 7–8.
18 Ibid., p. 10.
Unequal Spaces 107
19 Mungekar Bhalchandra, “In Defence of Quotas” in Debating Education 3, The
Reservation Issue, New Delhi, Safdar Hashmi Memorial Trust (SAHMAT), 2006,
pp. 15–18.
20 Neelkandan Sanil and Patil Smita, “Complexities of Inclusion and Exclusion: Dalit
Students and Higher Education in India”, Journal of Social Inclusion, June 2012, 3(1)
p. 86.
21 Thirumal P. “Dominant Bodies and Their Ethical Performances: Violence of Caste
Embodiment in Higher Educational Institutions”, Economic and Political Weekly,
January 18, 2020, Vol. LV, No. 3, p. 37.
22 It denotes a teacher-discipline lineage in which a succession of students (generally
upper caste male students) carry on the teacher’s legacy.
23 Salutation with both the palms of the hand held together, also indicates a certain
social distance on many occasions.
24 Suna Jitendra, “The Death of a Historian in Centre Historical Studies”, JNU, https://
roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=9011:the-
death-of-a-historian-in-centre-for-historical-studies-jawaharlal-nehru-university&
catid=119:feature&Itemid=132. Nehru is addressed as Panditji but he was chastised
for using the term ‘Babasaheb’ for Ambedkar in the class. Accessed 17 March 2020.
25 Lum Kathryn, “The Dalit Closet: Managing Dalit Identity at an Elite University in
India”, www.jceps.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/17-1-4.pdf Accessed 17 March
2020, p. 130.
26 Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Film, directed by Patel Jabbar, 2000, www.youtube.com/
watch?v=hv3swq_N0tU Accessed 23 March 2020.
27 Rathod Bharat, “Caste Conflicts on Campuses: Examining Diversity Research to
Transform Indian Universities into Inclusive Learning Spaces”, Journal of Social
Inclusion Studies, February 2020, pp. 10–11.
28 Harassment means unwanted conduct which is persistent and demeans, humiliates
or creates a hostile and intimidating environment or is calculated to induce sub-
mission by actual or threatened adverse consequences. UGC (Promotion of Equity
in Higher Educational Institutions) Regulations 2012, The Gazette of India, 19
January 2013, p. 121.
29 Vandana, “Dalit Girls and Sexual Harassment in the University”, Indian Journal of
Gender Studies, Sage Publications, 27(1), 2020 pp. 42, 47.
30 Lum Kathryn, op. cit. p. 148.
31 N. Sukumar, op. cit. 2008, p. 16.
32 Kumar Vivek, “Discrimination on Campuses of Higher Learning: A Perspective from
Below”, Economic and Political Weekly February 6, 2016, Vol. LI, No. 6, pp. 12–13.
33 Rendu and Moodu respectively refers to Telegu alphabets of the Dalit subcastes –
Mala has two letters and Madiga contains three letters in Telugu.
34 Jai Bhim is a slogan hailing Ambedkar’s memory by conscious Dalits/Ambedkarites.
35 Kumar Vivek, op. cit.
36 For more details, refer Malin Soderberg-Nanda, “I’m a Dalit, But I Would Like To
Be a Human Being First and Foremost: Reservation, Politics and Scheduled Caste
Identity in Higher Education”, MA Thesis, University of Oslo, 2009, www.duo.
uio.no/bitstream/handle/10852/24390/Masteroppgaven.pdf?sequence=1&isAl
lowed=y pp. 123–25. Accessed 31August 2018.
37 Munna Sannaki’s comment in “Not Quite An End Note”, Tata Madhavi, Outlook,
1 February 2016, www.outlookindia.com/magazine/story/not-quite-an-end-note/
296475/?prev Accessed 31 August 2018.
38 Prabhakaran B. “Happy or Hapless: Dalit Students with Dalit Professors”, Round
Table India, 12th March, 2016 https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=
com_content&view=article&id=8500:happy-or-hapless-dalit-students-with-dalit-
professors&catid=119:feature&Itemid=132 Accessed 31 August 2018.
39 Venkatesh Madari, Outlook, op. cit.
108 Unequal Spaces
40 Prabhakaran B. 2016, op. cit.
41 Subramanian Ajantha, The Caste of Merit, Engineering Education in India, Har-
vard University Press, 2019, p. 2.
42 Subramanian Ajantha, Tamil Brahmins were the earliest to frame merit as a caste
claim, and it showed in IITs, 18 January 2020, https://theprint.in/pageturner/excerpt/
tamil-brahmins-were-the-earliest-to-frame-merit-as-a-caste-claim-and-it-showed-in-iits/
351539/ Accessed 18 January 2020.
43 For more such insights, refer Thomas Renny, “Brahmins on India’s elite campuses
say studying science is natural to upper castes: Study”, 13 March, 2020, https://thep
rint.in/opinion/brahmins-on-india-campuses-studying-science-is-natural-to-upper-ca
stes/378901/ Accessed 20 March 2020.
44 Ilaiah Kancha, Post-Hindu India, A Discourse on Dalit-Bahujan, Socio-Spiritual
and Scientific Revolution, Sage, 2009.
45 Grey Deborah, “‘Lower’ Castes Original Producers of Knowledge, ‘Upper’ Castes
Simply Accumulated Wealth: Kancha Ilaiah”, 1 Nov 2017, https://cjp.org.in/lower-
castes-original-producers-of-knowledge-upper-castes-simply-accumulated-wealth-
kancha-ilaiah/ Accessed 15 December 2018.
46 “The Story of the Man Who Moved a Mountain: Dashrath Manjhi”, https://kredx.
com/blog/the-story-of-the-man-who-moved-a-mountain-dashrath-manjhi/, Septem-
ber 11, 2018. Accessed 25 October 2018.
47 Rainn Wilson, www.upworthy.com/rainn-wilson-gave-a-commencement-speech-
to-rich-kids-and-he-got-very-real-with-them Accessed 25 October 2018.
48 Nayyar Deepak, “Discrimination and Justice: Beyond Affirmative Action”, Eco-
nomic and Political Weekly, October 15, 2011, Vol. xlvi No. p. 55.
49 Dani D.A. and Haan de A. “Social Policy in a Development Context: Structural
Inequalities and Inclusive Institutions”. In Inclusive States: Social Policy and
Structural Inequalities, ed. D.A. Dani and A. Haan, 3–38. Washington, DC: World
Bank Publications, 2008 https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/6409
Accessed 10 October 2018.
50 Research scholar, one among the other four Dalit research scholars who were
suspended from the University of Hyderabad hostel refuses to accept the PhD
degree from University VC, https://indianexpress.com/article/india/india-news-
india/rohith-vemula-student-velpula-sunkanna-refuses-to-accept-degree-from-appa-
rao-podile-university-of-hyderabad-vc-3059905/ October 6, 2016. Accessed 10 June
2017.
51 Comment by a student, quoted in Samson Ovichegan, “Social Exclusion, Social
Inclusion and ‘Passing’: The Experiences of Dalit Students at one Elite Indian
University”, International Journal of Inclusive Education, 2014, 18:4, p. 366.
52 Mani Braj Ranjan, Knowledge and Power: A Discourse for Transformation,
Manohar Publications, 2014, p. 192.
53 Mani Braj Ranjan, op. cit., p. 185.
54 Ajaz Ashraf, Interview, “Exclusionary and Humiliating Campus Culture Led to
Rohith Vemula’s Suicide: Ex-UGC chairman Thorat”, The Scroll, January 21, 2016
https://scroll.in/article/802174/exclusionary-and-humiliating-campus-culture-
led-to-rohith-vemulas-suicide-ex-ugc-chairman Accessed 17 April 2018.
55 In the entire study, viva/interview is understood in the context of various modes of
assessments. In many universities, after the candidate clears the written entrance,
for both masters and research studies a viva/interview is conducted as further
qualifying criteria. Many times, classroom vivas are conducted as part of internal
assessment. Further, post submission of thesis, students appear for viva for
defending their work.
56 Archives of the SC/ST Students Welfare Association, JNU, compiled by Prof. Arun
Kumar (Andhra University) August–September, 1982, Vishakhapatnam.
Unequal Spaces 109
57 www.aisa.in/wp-content/uploads/JNUSU-Note-On-VIVA-marks-Reduction.pdf
Accessed 17 April 2018.
58 SFI went to court against the UGC Regulations for MPhil/PhD Admissions www.
indiatoday.in/pti-feed/story/sfi-in-hc-against-ugc-norms-on-mphil-phd-cour
ses-905649-2017-04-10 Accessed 19 April 2018.
59 Narayanan Nitheesh, “Blocking at the Entrance: Need of Reform in Viva-Voce
Examination of JNU”, http://bodhicommons.org/article/blocking-at-the-entrance-
jnu-nitheesh, 22 December 2016. Accessed 19 April 2018.
60 http://sabrangindia.in/article/jnu-admission-row-delhi-hc-scraps-100-viva-upholds-
reservation-and-says-no-seat-cuts, Sabrang, 4th Ocotber 2018. Accessed 22 Decem-
ber 2018.
61 Sitlhou Makepeace, “India’s Universities Are Falling Terribly Short on Addressing
Caste Discrimination”, The Wire, 21 Nov 2017, https://thewire.in/caste/india-uni
versities-caste-discrimination Accessed 22 December 2018.
62 Weisskopf Thomas E., “Impact of Reservation on Admissions to Higher Education
in India”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 39, No. 39, Sep 25–Oct 1, 2004,
pp. 4346–47.
63 For details refer to Velaskar P. R. “Inequality in Higher Education: A Study of
Scheduled Caste Students in Medical Colleges of Bombay”, unpublished PhD dis-
sertation, Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai, 1986.
64 Kirpal V. and Gupta M. Equality Through Reservations, Rawat Publications,
Jaipur, 1999, Chapters 4, 5.
65 Weisskopf Thomas E., op. cit.
66 Muthukrishnan Facebook post, https://maktoobmedia.com/2017/03/22/jnu-adm
ission/ Accessed 30 October 2018.
67 Suna Jitendra, “The Death of a Historian in Centre for Historical Studies, JNU”,
https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=
9011:the-death-of-a-historian-in-centre-for-historical-studies-jawaharlal-nehru-u
niversity&catid=119:feature&Itemid=132, 19th March 2017. Accessed 30 October
2018.
68 Lum Kathryn, op. cit., p. 133.
69 Thorat Sukadeo et al., “Report of The Committee to Enquire Into The Allegation
Of Differential Treatment Of SC/ST Students”. In All India Institute of Medical
Science, Delhi, 2006, p. 25.
70 Sukadeo Thorat et al., AIIMS Report, ibid, pp. 4–5.
71 Raman Anuradha, “The Drona Syndrome on the Bhalchandra Mungekar Report
on caste discrimination at the VM Medical College”, 29 October 2012, www.out
lookindia.com/magazine/story/the-drona-syndrome/282668 Accessed 17 November
2017.
72 Gatade Subhash, “Dronacharyas All: Caste Discrimination in Higher Education”,
www.countercurrents.org/gatade161012.htm 16th October 2012. Accessed 17
November 2017.
73 Senthilkumar Solidarity Committee, “Caste, Higher Education and Senthil’s ‘Sui-
cide’”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43, No. 33, Aug. 16–22, 2008, p. 5.
74 UGC (Promotion of Equity in Higher Educational Institutions) Regulations 2012,
The Gazette of India, January 19, 2013, p. 123.
75 For details, ibid., p. 123.
76 Jha Monica, “Caste in campus, How Dalits are denied an equal education”, http
s://fountainink.in/reportage/caste-in-campus, Feb 12, 2020. Accessed 15 March
2020.
77 Komath Rajesh, Padmanabhan Roshni, “E-grantz for Dalit Students, Letters”,
Economic and Political Weekly, December 11, 2010, Vol. xlv, No. 50, p. 5.
78 Allport G. W. (1954). The Nature of Prejudice, Cambridge, MA: Addison-Wesley,
p. 9.
110 Unequal Spaces
79 N. Sukumar, “Quota’s Children: The Perils of Getting Educated”, Beyond Inclu-
sion: The Practice of Equal Access in Indian Higher Education (ed) Satish, Desh-
pande and Usha, Zacharias, Routledge, 2013, pp. 212–213.
80 Kumar Vivek, op. cit., p. 13.
81 Jha Monica, op. cit.
82 Refer Ramaswamy Uma, op. cit., pp. 6–7; Waghmare B. S., “Reservation Policy
and The Plight of Matangs”. In Maharashtra, The Indian Journal of Political Sci-
ence, July-Sept, 2010, Vol. 71, No. 3, pp. 923–946; Gundimeda Sambaiah, “Social
Justice and the Question of Categorization of Dalit Reservations: The Dandora
Debate in Andhra Pradesh”, in Rawat Ramnarayan S and K. Satyanarayana (eds),
Dalit Studies: New Perspectives on South Asian Society and History. Durham:
Duke University Press, 2016.
83 Kumar Vivek, op. cit., p. 13.
84 Dalit (Untouchable) Ghetto in Telugu language.
85 For more details, refer Deshpande Satish, “The Public University After Rohith-
Kanhaiya”, Economic and Political Weekly, March 12, 2016, Vol. LI, No. 11, pp.
32–34; and N. Sukumar, “‘Red Sun in the Blue Sky’: Rohith’s Vemula’s Utopian
Republic”, Social Change, Council for Social Development, 2016, Sage Publica-
tions, 46(3) pp. 1–6.
86 Cheris are lower caste settlements in South India and bhasha is language; so it
refers to language spoken by lower caste people, which is considered vulgar and
unpolished.
87 Senthil Kumar Solidarity Committee Report, op. cit., p. 12.
88 The Citizen Bureau, “Discrimination Rot: 8 Dalit Students in HCU, Dozens Across
India”, www.thecitizen.in/index.php/en/NewsDetail/index/8/6550/Discrimination-
Rot-8-Dalit-Suicides-in-HCU-Dozens-Across-India, 19th January 2016. Accessed 15
June 2017.
89 Rehman Salma, “Rohith is the 23rd Dalit student suicide in institutes like AIIMS
and IITs” www.catchnews.com/national-news/blood-on-books-rohith-vemula-s-is-
the-23rd-dalit-student-suicide-in-under-a-decade-bandaru-dattatreya-abvp-bjp-rahul-
gandhi-thorat-committee-caste-1453210563.html, 14th February 2017. Accessed 15
January 2018.
90 Kumar Amit. “For 6 years, Deepa Mohanan has been fighting against casteist
abuse in MG University, Kottayam. This is her story”, http://twocircles.net/2017apr01/
407100.html, April 1, 2017. Accessed 15 January 2018.
91 Vandana, op. cit., 2020, pp. 33–54.
92 Prabakaran B., “Happy or Hapless: Dalit Students With Dalit Professors”, Coun-
tercurrents.org, www.countercurrents.org/prabakaran080316.htm, 8th March 2016.
Accessed 23 July 2018.
93 For details of cases of sexual harassment in few universities, refer Kanika Mehta,
“Are sexual harassment cases on the rise in Delhi University”, www.indiatoday.
in/mail-today/story/are-sexual-harassment-cases-on-the-rise-in-delhi-university-
1306131-2018-08-06, August 6, 2018. Accessed 23 October 2019; Sanjay Rawat,
“39 Sexual Harassment Complaints Recorded in JNU in 2015–16”, www.out
lookindia.com/newswire/story/39-sexual-harassment-complaints-recorded-in-jnu-in-
2015-16/952350, 3rd October, 2016. Accessed 10 June 2017. The Wire, “Staff,
Protests As BHU Revokes Suspension of Professor Whom 36 Girls Accused
of Harassment”, https://thewire.in/women/bhu-sexual-harassment, September 15,
2019; Jane Borges and Pallavi Smart, “Predator On Campus: Students Speak Up
Against Sexual Harassment In Colleges”, www.mid-day.com/articles/predator-
on-campus-students-speak-up-against-sexual-harassment-in-colleges/20612177, March
24, 2019; “Faculty should not invite students home: Madras University amid sexual
harassment row”, www.newindianexpress.com/states/tamil-nadu/2019/sep/01/faculty-
Unequal Spaces 111
should-not-invite-students-home-madras-university-amid-sexual-harassment-row-
2027280.html, 1st September, 2019. Accessed 23 October 2019.
94 Satish Deshpande, “‘Weak’ Students and Elite Institutions: The Challenges of
Democratisation in the Indian University”, India International Centre Quar-
terly, Vol. 42, No. 3/4, Education at the Crossroads (Winter 2015–Spring 2016),
pp. 131–142.
95 Maurya Tej Bendukuri, Live Wire, The Wire, “NALSAR: How Hostels Used to be
Segregated on the Basis of CLAT Scores – and Caste”, July 12, 2019, https://live
wire.thewire.in/campus/nalsar-caste-hostel-segregation/ Accessed 30 July 2020.
96 C. S. Kasturi, The Telegraph, “Ghetto in medical hostel – Quota students in
AIIMS allege being driven into a corner”, www.telegraphindia.com/india/ghet
to-in-medical-hostel-quota-students-in-aiims-allege-being-driven-into-a-corner/cid/
785574 4th July 2006. Accessed 30 July 2020.
97 Jha Monica, op. cit., p. 14.
98 Ramaswamy Uma, op. cit.
99 The respondent explained that SC students exhibit a voracious appetite and are
seldom bothered about their personal appearance. In local parlance terms like
‘Bakasura’, ‘Kumbhkarna’ are used. These are mythological characters known for
their appetites and negative physical attributes.
100 Anju Devi, “How Caste Works in University Spaces: My Experience Dissects the
Hypocrisy of Savarna Women”, https://thestandpoint.in/2020/07/28/how-caste-w
orks-in-university-spaces-my-experience-dissects-the-hypocrisy-of-savarna-women/
101 Roy Chowdhury Shreya, “IIT-Bombay row: Is separate-plate rule for meat eaters
caste discrimination – or not a big deal?” https://scroll.in/article/865307/iit-bombay-
is-separate-plate-rule-for-meat-eaters-straight-up-caste-discrimination-or-no-big-deal,
January 17, 2018. Accessed 19 August 2020.
102 N. Sukumar, “Living a Concept”, op. cit., p. 17, 2008.
103 G. Nagaraju, “Food Choices and Social Distinctions among University Students in
Hyderabad”, South Asia Research, Vol. 40 (3) pp. 1–18, Sage Publications, 2020.
104 Maurya Tej Bendukuri, op. cit.
105 Thorat Committee Report on AIIMS, 2006, pp. 36–37.
106 Anveshi Law Committee Report, op. cit., 1003.
107 S. Santhosh, Abraham, Joshil K., “Caste Injustice in Jawaharlal Nehru University”,
Economic & Political Weekly, June 26, 2010. Vol. xlv Nos 26 & 27, pp. 28–29.
108 P. Kesava Kumar, “The Students’ Struggles of Hyderabad Central University:
Emergence of Dalit Students’ Politics”, https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=
com_content&view=article&id=9793:the-students-struggles-of-hyderabad-central-
university-emergence-of-dalit-students-politics&catid=119:feature&Itemid=132, 20th
January 2020. Accessed 15 March 2020.
109 Solidarity Committee of University Students, “Fact Finding Report of the investi-
gation of the suicide of P. Raju, a student”. University of Hyderabad, 19th March
2013, p. 8.
110 EFLU takes disciplinary action against students demanding ‘freedom of speech’, www.
thenewsminute.com/article/eflu-takes-disciplinary-action-against-students-demanding-
freedom-speech-35829, November 9, 2015. Accessed 17 April 2017.
111 www.ugc.ac.in/pdfnews/5323630_New_Draft_UGCRegulation-2018-9-2.pdf p. 53
112 “Outsourcing Discipline, Policing Cultural Resistance”, www.facebook.com/notes/
strugglecommittee-eflu/outsourcing-discipline-policing-cultural-resistance/1702637231
66870/?hc_ref=ARSywiGdb70Hho8ezZ4fELLICfT7QUv7cMSfGlcEaSbVAQK-w5VY
AFP3bsWJAWtCbjg, September 27, 2013. Accessed 15 September 2017.
113 Forum Against Caste Discrimination in Education, https://roundtableindia.co.in/
index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=6480:no-more-student-suici
des,-no-more-caste-discrimination,-no-more-dropouts-1&catid=119&Itemid=132,
112 Unequal Spaces
17th April 2013. Accessed 15 September 2017. “Academics Rally Around EFLU
Students Charged With Defamation After ‘Raising SC/ST Issues’”, https://thewire.
in/law/eflu-defamation-sc-st-students, 18 January 2017. Accessed 15 September
2017.
114 “EFLU takes disciplinary action against students demanding ‘freedom of speech’”,
www.thenewsminute.com/article/eflu-takes-disciplinary-action-against-students-
demanding-freedom-speech-35829, November 9, 2015. Accessed 19 October 2018.
115 Solidarity Committee of University Students, “Fact Finding Report of the investi-
gation of the suicide of P. Raju, a student; University of Hyderabad”, 19th March
2013, p. 10
4 A Social History of Indian Academia
Introspection about their own location in society has not been too common
among Indian historians … What is neglected is the whole question of the con-
ditions of production and reception of academic knowledge, its relationships with
different kinds of common sense. We lack, in other words, a social history of
historiography.1
If one were to transpose these words onto the larger context of how Indian
academia functions, it becomes apparent that knowledge production and
reception thrives in a self-isolated cocoon. Many communities are not privileged
enough to possess histories which also reflect their precarious position in the
socio-cultural hierarchy. As Trouillot observed, “History is the fruit of power,
but power itself is never so transparent that its analysis becomes superfluous.
The ultimate mark of power may be its invisibility, the ultimate challenge, the
exposition of its roots.”2 Thus, the possession of history, scripted or otherwise,
is a privilege seldom granted equally. For millennia, many groups and commu-
nities like African Americans, women, tribals and the (former) untouchables in
India did not exist in history. The semantics of cultural and ideological dom-
ination ensured that such people were invisibilized and silenced. The Dalits
found colonial modernity, including colonial liberal thought, useful in addres-
sing concrete questions of representation of minorities, which offered new
opportunities for engaging with caste Hindus. Most Dalit caste organizations
engaged with the colonial state over issues concerning affirmative action to
secure representation in legislative assemblies, schools and colleges.3 However,
despite their identity being legally validated, there exists what Gopal Guru
would term as the “epistemological isolation” of the Dalit. The strict obser-
vance of a language code, protocols, body language and ground rules effectively
converts seminar halls into a hostile space that very often inflict humiliation on
the Dalits, who then feel nervous or intimidated to enter such structures. Ulti-
mately, Dalits are denied access to knowledge and its articulation. They are
also denied the critical faculty to interrogate the dominant mode of thinking.4
What does not suit the self-proclaimed masters is dismissed as myth and legend.
Independent India’s highest award for sports coaching is named after Dronacharya
who is infamous for asking Eklavya to offer his thumb as gurudakshina (ritual
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-4
offering to teacher after completion of studies) in order to defend the ‘superiority’
of his pedigreed students in archery. This episode can be dismissed as a myth;
however, Eklavyas continue to bear the burden of caste inequity in modern
gurukuls.
A few months ago, the author was part of a selection committee to recruit
teachers for a private university. Unlike a public institution, there was no
advertisement with the number of positions, different categories etc. The can-
didates were pooled together from the academic network of selected institu-
tions. A total of ten candidates were shortlisted based on their academic
credentials. After the interviews, there was a discussion to shortlist the candi-
dates. One female candidate had impressed with her subject knowledge but
lacked fluent English communication skills. The university representatives on
the interview board commented that though she has subject knowledge, she will
be a poor choice because of her language inability, especially in a classroom
comprising affluent, self-sponsored technology students. This was further cor-
roborated by young teachers (one teaching in a private university and another
in a public institution) during a webinar.5 The former mentioned that he
attended almost 40 interviews for lectureships in colleges/universities across the
country but failed to get selected. Exasperated, he asked one expert as to why
he was not being selected? He was told that he cannot ‘manage’ the class. For
the selection committee, subject knowledge is secondary. The important con-
cern is whether the candidate can manage a diverse group of students. He
understood that the ‘problem’ indicated his lacunae of socio-cultural capital.
Whenever any issue of caste discrimination turns up in the public domain, there
is a sense of déjà vu. Such horrendous events occur in remote and backward vil-
lages not in modern university spaces. These are democratic institutions where
every student has access and is treated fairly.
A university stands for humanism, for tolerance, for reason, for the
adventure of ideas and for the search of truth. It stands for the onward
march of the human race towards ever higher objectives. If the universities
discharge their duties adequately, then it is well within the nation and the
people.6
But mainstream academia is seldom self-reflexive. After all, SC/ST and OBCs
do acquire admissions because of reservations; they share the same classrooms/
laboratories/libraries/hostels/mess halls etc. as the upper caste students – except
for institutions like IITs and IISc or Patna University, where spaces are segre-
gated on caste lines. They are getting fellowships to study and hence, it is
believed social equality is being achieved. So, when universities are being ranked
and accredited, their infrastructure, faculty publications/achievements, student
placements, alumni etc. become the benchmark. A student killing himself/her-
self, dropouts or depression never become a part of the annual evaluation. If
AIIMS had taken the Thorat Committee Report seriously, many young minds
would not be hard-pressed to take their own lives.
A Social History of Indian Academia 115
More than a decade ago, when the author presented his narrative of cas-
teplaining in the university spaces, he was met with a sense of disbelief.
Intertwined with his story were experiences of his peer group. He was
advised by senior scholars that his experiences were very subjective and
lacked academic credibility. There was no empirical evidence and conceptual
understanding to substantiate his experiences. However, as argued by Guru,
the lived experiences of Dalits are rich enough and can stand on their own
authentic terms so that they do not require any theoretical representation.
Experience for them is a sufficient condition for organizing their thought
and action and for ignition of everyday experience into resistance. Second,
Dalits argue that since they have privileged access to reality, they can cap-
ture it with a full view without any theoretical representation. This claim is
obviously based on ontological blindness. The assumption in such a claim is
that non-Dalits have an innate inability to comprehend Dalit reality because
of their different social location. Thus, though Dalits do not generate any
theory, their research can always contain some valuable theoretical insights,
their experience alone can illuminate aspects of human relations.7 On the
other hand, there exist arguments that Dalit students have a rich life
experience and an understanding of poverty and deprivation but theoretically
and conceptually, they are weak.8 Thus, such epistemicides are embedded in
knowledge production.
Academic writing has the veneer of ‘naturalness’ only for those who might
feel born into it, those who have an intuitive sense of its language games,
or alternatively, those committed to a kind of logical positivism that denies
standpoint, militates against position and views subjectivity as epistemolo-
gical flaw and methodological failure. For the rest of us, for those of us
whose ancestors weren’t supposed to be in the Western academy, writing
hurts.
Luke wrote these words in the context of predominantly a White, male-

dominated and scientifically hierarchical academic culture.9 However, Cana-
garajah, while concurring with the above view, pointed out that “faith in cer-
titude died when the positivist view of a rational, closed universe was called
into doubt”. In epistemological terms, one of the useful things about narrative
forms and methodologies is that they are able to highlight not only the said but
also the unsaid, not only the known but the unknown: the limits of knowledge,
the impossibilities of knowing.10
While narrativizing the experiences of Dalit students and teachers in uni-
versity spaces what is crucial is how these stories are shaped, altered and
negotiated within a particular space and time. Caste operates by constructing
symbolic boundaries between socially constituted categories. These are natur-
alized by scriptural laws and custom and any contestation of these codes rup-
tures the cohesion of the social fabric of the existing society. Hence, any
attempt to pierce this solidity is immediately neutralized and ultimately
silenced. However, in the quest for a more equitable society, the thin veneer of
social harmony needs to be fractured.
The present chapter is an attempt to narrativize the shared experiences; a
reflexive engagement between the authors’ lived experiences and stories col-
lected through field studies. As a quota student and later as a reserved category
teacher, the author has frequently encountered a condescending attitude in the
wider academia. The issue of ‘merit’ always hangs like a Damocles sword. A
sense of responsibility of representing the community is also involved, which
leads to increased association with matters of equity and social justice. It is a
continuous effort to strip away the façade of the ‘normal’ and hold the wider
community accountable for the denial of justice to the Dalits. To illustrate,
reservations are constitutionally mandatory, and every institution needs to
adhere to them while admitting SC/ST/OBC students and recruiting faculty.
The 200-point roster model was utilized by the UGC/MHRD to ensure fair
representation such as 27% for OBCs at entry level (Assistant Professors), 15 %
for SCs and 7.5 % for STs, even at the level of Associate Professors and Pro-
fessors, from 2006 onwards. If fairly implemented, this would ensure that out
of 200 posts, 99 will go to SC, ST and OBC and 101 will be left for general
category. However, this seldom happened and the Allahabad High Court11
found this system unfavorable to the dominant social groups and ordered for
reservations to be applied department wise. Hence, the 13 point/department as
a unit roster was reintroduced. This would prevent any SC/ST/OBC candidates
from nursing academic and employment ambitions. If the department is con-
sidered as a unit, in smaller departments with less than seven seats – departments
with specialized categories, area studies programs, centres/chairs etc. – the doors
are shut for Dalit-Bahujans and the Tribal community. After vociferous street
protests, the central government issued an ordinance restoring the 200-point
roster before the 2019 elections. There was hardly any debate about this struggle
either in the print or electronic media, scarcely any academic engagement, despite
the fact that such a measure would have further insulated the academic domain.
The battle for social justice has to be waged only by Dalit-Bahujans, Tribals,
Backward communities etc. as the ‘casteless’ and privileged upper castes are
already the beneficiaries of ‘merit’. Recently, a panel of IIT directors and some
government officials submitted a report to the Ministry of Education suggesting
that IITs should be exempted from reservation in appointments as they are
‘institutes of national importance’. To preserve the ‘higher merit’ of these insti-
tutions, reservation policy shall be barred. The IITs, IIMs and AIIMS provide
reservation for students belonging to the socially marginalized communities;
however, any cursory reflection over other spheres of these institutions would
showcase that the Dalit-Bahujan groups remain outside the purview of faculty
and administrative positions. The number of SC and ST faculty members in
IITs is below 3%. The faculty and administrative positions are dominated by
social elites, who see themselves as ‘talented’. Positions of power are exclu-
sively controlled by one set of castes, disallowing the Dalit-Bahujan counter-
parts to become equal shareholders.12
Very often, the author gets called to act as an SC/ST/OBC Observer by the
university where he is located during faculty recruitments and student admis-
sions. The presence of the Observer has been made mandatory by the UGC to
prevent any prejudices cropping up during such academic activities. Coin-
cidently while pursuing this work, the university constituted a selection com-
mittee to recruit teachers for a professional course and the author was called
upon to be an Observer during the interview process. Usually, the departments
are supposed to post the details of the positions available to different categories
on the website. But there was no such detail forthcoming in the advertisement,
which only provided the total number of vacancies. On enquiring about this
procedural lapse, the author was told that it would be rectified, and a new
advertisement would be put up after consulting the concerned office in the uni-
versity. However, there was no update on this issue. In addition, he informed
the HOD not to disclose the categories of applicants to the subject experts,
which they did not adhere to. This is to prevent any element of prejudice
creeping into the interview process. This norm was also violated when the
HOD circulated a mail specifying separate dates for separate categories.
Unfortunately, last year also similar measures were followed by the same
department, and it was after persistent persuasion that the department rectified
the technical lapses. But they failed to fill 50% of the sanctioned reserved posi-
tions, citing that the candidates lack ‘merit’ and hail from different allied dis-
ciplines. When one tries to consistently point out the anomalies and try to
enforce transparency, one is labelled a ‘troublemaker’. The solution for them is
to call for a more ‘pliable’ Observer.
Even in the author’s parent department, he has fulfilled the role of an
Observer numerous times so much so that during the faculty recruitment
process, by default he was expected to perform his duty. When he pointed
out to the HOD that by rotation, it is his turn to be the subject expert, the
head commented, “but I have only seen you as an Observer”. The university
sends out the list of experts and Observer to constituent colleges to facilitate
the recruitment process in different subjects. Ironically, even after becoming
a professor, for his parent institution his identity is only an ‘Observer’ but
never as a subject expert; even if the interviews are to recruit permanent, ad
hoc, temporary or guest positions in his own department and constituent
colleges. Incongruously, he is considered ‘eligible’ to be an expert/VC
Nominee in committees for promotions. Seeking a clarification, the author
wrote to the concerned university officials but there was no response. The
deliberate casteplaining only seeks to reinforce the stigma around the
author’s identity.
Thus, life history work provides an opportunity to re-examine social research
by acknowledging the complexity of human encounters in the research process
and integrating human subjectivity. Life history sensitizes and locates an indi-
vidual’s lived experiences within the broader social, political and cultural land-
scape of human history. The aspiration is to understand life within the
historical and social context in which that life is lived.13
Speaking Themselves Into Existence
In opposition to grand theories and global knowledge structures, narratives
represent knowledge from the bottom up; in opposition to explicit forms of
theorization, they embody implicit forms of reasoning and logic; in opposition
to positivistic scholarly discourses, which are elitist in their specialized and
abstract nature, narratives represent concrete forms of knowledge that are open
to further interpretation.14 In our current world, stories producing such catego-
rical identities associated with families, gender, age, religion and citizenship
remain from the past; story themes and identities of nationality and race/ethnicity
have arisen as major areas of story construction, challenge and negotiation.15 The
SC/ST/OBC identity is a legal entitlement and the reservation policy has further
institutionalized this identity in academia. The case studies of SC students pre-
sented here reflect the micro interstices through which these identities are speak-
ing themselves into existence. In India, caste identity is a major arena of story
construction. The attempt is to decode the individual sense making of their lived
experiences. Cultural narratives of identity describe types of people and they
prescribe particular social relationships among types of people. As these narra-
tives can shape the symbolic universe, it is not surprising that there is a belief that
altering cultural codes is one of the most powerful ways through which social
movements can bring about change.16 The poster, Smash Brahmanical Patriarchy,
and the call to ban the poster by many celebrities reflect the deep fault lines in
accepting the intersectionality of caste and patriarchy, which is culturally wired
into Indian society.17 There is also a certain cultural reluctance to accept narra-
tives told by disadvantaged people while other stories are generously welcomed.
This binary is evident when one seeks to locate the sources of these life histories.
The established media, whether print or electronic, such as academic journals
offer few spaces for such articulation. The social media, with all its inherent
problems has emerged as a repository for stories contesting the mainstream nar-
ratives. This is exemplified by the emotions generated by Rohith’s suicide note
and his Facebook posts reflecting on his experiences of discrimination in multiple
contexts. Now, these stories can be ignored but not erased as they leave a digital
footprint.
In order to probe the manner in which the respondents are making sense of
their personal and social world, the technique of Interpretative Phenomen-
ological Analysis (IPA) has been utilized. This involves a detailed examination
of the participant’s lifeworld; it attempts to explore personal experience and is
concerned with an individual’s personal perception or account of an object or
event, as opposed to an attempt to produce an objective statement of the object
or event itself.18 As far as possible, the researcher tries to obtain an insider’s
perspective of the respondent’s personal world through a process of inter-
pretative activity. This methodology combines an empathic elucidation with a
questioning hermeneutics. Thus, consistent with its phenomenological origins,
IPA is concerned with trying to understand what it is like, from the point of
view of the participants, to take their side as individuals construct meaning
based on their social and personal worlds. Here, there is a theoretical commit-
ment to the person as a cognitive, linguistic, affective and physical being and
this technique assumes a chain of connection between people’s talk and their
thinking and emotional state. This is because people struggle to express what
they are thinking and feeling, there may be reasons why they do not wish to
self-disclose, and the researcher has to interpret people’s mental and emotional
state from what they say and express.
The present chapter is based on selected narratives from the field, and some
previously published in various digital portals. A few respondents were more
articulate, interested in the research and emotionally grappling with the ideas
reflected in the research. They agreed for a more detailed engagement on issues
of discrimination, stigma and humiliation in both their personal and public
lives. For some, this was the first opportunity to share their feelings and
experiences of social isolation and to express a sense of belonging with the
research team. Some women respondents mentioned that they felt cathartic
about the study as they never thought that their subjective experiences will find
a voice. Along with the first-person narratives, this chapter also includes case
studies of campus lifeworlds published in various blogs, online news portals
and journals in order to substantiate the study.
Narratives From the Field
Case Study 1
I am pursing a PhD in Physics from a university located in a metropolis. The
irony is that though I am a Buddhist by faith, I am forced to write my caste on
the certificate. I completed my master’s in 1999 and after a gap of almost thir-
teen years, registered for a PhD. Unfortunately, my family did not have a reg-
ular source of income, which affected my education. My family subsisted on a
small plot of agricultural land on which my father and stepmother worked.
Needless to mention, it was through fellowships that I could continue my stu-
dies. The students from the upper castes would often feel envious and comment
that “life is easier for us as everything is easily available”. But they fail to rea-
lize that there exists tough competition even amongst the scheduled castes. I
know because I applied for Rajiv Gandhi National Fellowship thrice but could
not get selected. Till 2013–14, I used to avail UGC-BSRF (Basic Scientific
Research Fellowship), which was abruptly stopped. In order to support myself
financially, I used to work in part-time jobs, which limited my participation in
academic activities. It was a daily struggle, as teachers favoured students from
socially privileged backgrounds when it came to grading, language and facil-
itating class participation. It took time to comprehend the semiotics of this
deliberate ignorance towards us.
Even routine work like asking for academic clarifications or getting the fel-
lowship form signed took a great deal of time. Ironically, this occurred even as
the Head was from the SC background. However, it spurred me to work harder
so that no one could question my subject expertise. This is also the reason as to
why I kept aloof from any political activity on campus though some community
organizations did approach me. I was more focused on my studies. Luckily, my
supervisor was very supportive though she hailed from a dominant caste. I have
heard of cases where research scholars were forced to render domestic labour,
invigilate exams and even evaluate answer sheets in my campus.
Till my post-graduate studies, I was a resident in the university hostel
wherein my identity as a Dalit, is inextricably woven with my eating habits
(especially non-vegetarian food) and my ideology was always ridiculed. In sci-
ences, there are very few Dalit scholars and so one is forced to interact with
upper caste classmates for academic work. My initial learning was in the ver-
nacular, which was a major obstacle when I joined a metropolitan university.
Many a time, I felt that teachers were waiting for us to ‘fail’ or ‘discontinue’ so
as to endorse our incapability. Since I joined back after a long gap, I had to
scramble to catch up with the others. Even students who work with the same
supervisor hardly interact amongst themselves. If I were to reflect on my
campus experiences; SC students have to struggle for everything. The other
communities organize pujas and other political activities with the support of the
administration, whereas we find it difficult to get permission for any activity,
social or academic.
If institutions had a robust grievance redressal cell, it would be easy to deal
with cases of discrimination. This is extremely important as we are all aware of
Rohith’s case. We have an Anti-Ragging Act. Similarly, we should be aware of
caste-based discrimination. It’s difficult to escape caste even in interpersonal
relationships as people aspire for various things. When SC boys do well in
terms of securing fellowships or jobs, girls from dominant castes enter into
relationships with them. Personally, I feel that only through inter-caste rela-
tionships can we create a more equitable society.
The discipline of science is supposed to be rational and those who pursue
science are considered to be very objective. However, in my experience this is
not the case. I appeared for many interviews for lectureship, and I felt that my
social origins always played a negative role. The interview panel tried to dumb
us down by asking insane questions. Though I was well versed in my subject,
the questions did not test my knowledge but rather it appeared as if they were
condescending towards me. The entrenched academia always questioned my
credentials as a ‘reserved category student’.
I always felt SC students have had to constantly struggle to ‘blend’ with the
others; their language, dressing styles and financial capacity play a crucial part.
Academic success is generational. Teachers send their offspring abroad for
higher studies and they are able to flaunt their scholarly credentials. If generous
scholarships like RGNF are provided, more SC students can benefit. The policy
makers should reflect as to why SC students have a gap in their intellectual
pursuits and enable them to complete their studies. After the events at Bhima
Koregaon, there is much discussion on Dalit politics and space has been created
to reflect the ideological and identity assertion in our society.
Case Study 2
I joined the university as I felt that this space will enable me to acquire
knowledge and challenge entrenched prejudices and hierarchies. In addition, I
also felt that it would be a culturally liberating experience. I am the first person
in my family to aspire for higher education and specialize in the scientific field.
As they could not afford to educate me, I depended on state fellowship to sus-
tain my studies. However, my enthusiasm received a rude jolt when I realized
that social hierarchies operate in the campus also. As Dalit students, we were
not considered for student exchange programs as we lack English language
skills and other forms of ‘merit’. The Director once commented that Dalit stu-
dents should not be bestowed any favours as it will impact the Centre’s dis-
cipline. They select students for supervision based on caste, political ideology
and fellowships. During my MPhil, I stayed in the hostel and experienced subtle
forms of discrimination from room allotment, casteist comments from hostel
wardens to office staff, which was more in the dining hall and TV halls. Food
was also not equally served. A particular political ideology controlled the hostel
spaces.
My interaction with my peer group was limited to academic work as they
had no interest in social issues. Access to laboratory infrastructure is crucial for
science students but in my case, my supervisor did not permit me to work in the
laboratory. He accused me of stealing and in front of other students humiliated
me, “you cannot trust these people”. Once when I was working in the lab, I
was locked up under the order of my supervisor. Finally, the police had to be
called to open the lock. The Centre never funded my experiments and as my
fellowship used to be delayed, this hampered my work. Initially, I was afraid
and slipped into depression. No one in my centre, students or faculty, offered
support. Even though there was one SC teacher in the Centre; she sided with
her colleagues and avoided me. A few SC teachers from other departments were
sympathetic to my problems. My family was clueless about such issues. Gra-
dually, I decided to fight back and prove that I am capable of accomplishing the
academic requirements.
The Centre/University tried its level best to silence me. The administration
would try their best to suppress any activism from Dalit students. My super-
visor commented that my MPhil thesis cannot be accepted as it is below par.
After a prolonged struggle, finally it was passed. But I noticed that dominant
caste students never have to face such issues and their work is completed fast.
Their caste is their privilege. The data I used in my MPhil work was plagiarized
by the Director and his student and they published an academic paper in their
name. Subsequently, I cleared GATE and secured admission to another insti-
tute. But the administration denied issuing me the relevant documents to join
the other institute even though I secured a seat for direct PhD. My fellowship
forms were never forwarded on time and there was a delay for many months. It
was a tough scenario as I was not a registered student; had no access to funds
and the administration favoured my supervisor. The SC/ST Cell is also not
functional for any kind of grievance redressal. All kinds of surveillance are
placed on me and other Dalit students who are active on campus through social
media, peer group, phone tapping etc. They go to the extent of branding me as
a Maoist.
It has been a prolonged struggle, but I am confident of completing my PhD.
My family supports me and the Ambedkar Students Association in my uni-
versity has been a great help. I feel that only same caste friends can understand
your ordeal. Once, I highlighted my problems on social media; many people
from my community and even from the dominant community have come to my
aid. This has helped me to sustain my fight or else I would have given up. The
official student’s organization has completely ignored my plight. Though the
various university bodies have found my supervisor guilty on various counts, he
has been allowed to go scot-free as he enjoys political clout. The VC asked me
to submit my work with a short time span and I am planning to take legal
recourse. If I fail to submit within a stipulated time, my academics will be at
stake. Such demands are not made for other students.
My battle continues at the legal level. I went to the police station to enquire
about the progress of my case as a year had passed without any development. I
took out my camera to go live on Facebook and the police detained me and
confiscated my phone. The Governor of the state had come to visit the institu-
tion and the students of my centre were supposed to meet him. I planned to
apprise the Governor of my problems, but I was not invited for the meeting and
when I tried to meet him, I was kept under preventive detention. Interestingly,
whenever Dalits complain about any discrimination, their caste identity is
investigated. Here, my supervisor argued that I cannot be labeled a ‘Dalit’ as
only my mother is a Dalit.
This narrative of the respondent is a stark illustration of the casteplaining
persisting in various academic spaces and the trauma faced by a Dalit female
student who dares to challenge the establishment. The student’s case was also
widely debated in the media as she consistently pursued the case, approaching
the police and the courts, SC/ST Commission etc. It also reflects the skewed
working of the sciences department, which stresses ‘merit’ but at the cost of
human suffering. The nexus between the ruling class and academia is also
exposed. This also reflects the patriarchal mindset of the people who are in
charge of these institutions. The onus is on the victim to prove their caste
identity. This absolves them of any wrongdoing and helps them in the legal
fight. In the entire process, the academic future of a researcher is submerged
under trivial arguments, their personal life is traumatized, he/she loses precious
time, their name is sullied, and they fail to achieve either a degree or find
gainful employment.
Case Study 3
I am a second-generation person in my family to access education. I am aware
of how gender and caste discrimination are intertwined in the campus. As a
science student pursuing doctoral studies, our life is spent in the laboratory,
which is a very toxic space. At every turn people try to take advantage of you.
In my department, amongst the entire faculty and students, I am the only Dalit
student, which is sometimes very scary. Many of us in the department receive
JRF but if JRF needs to be converted to SRF, we have to pay money to
administrative staff, HOD, including supervisors. Whatever the amount we get
as scholarship, we have to give a share to each and every person who will be
signing on our documents. Many upper caste teachers ask their research scho-
lars to bring and serve lunch to them, escort their children and spouse to
market etc. We, the Dalit students are prone to be fined and suspended for even
small misdemeanours that happen in the campus.
My department has a very peculiar custom. On the birthday of our super-
visors or their family members, festivals, Teacher’s Day, we are supposed to
give expensive gifts to our supervisors. Or else, they will not recommend us for
any scholarships, conferences or other academic work. Our chapters might get
rejected or we will be failed in our experiments. A faculty once told me, “you
should not worry about your job, you will easily get it”. This made me feel very
awkward and upset that how can my teacher pass such sarcastic comments?
Once, my paper was selected for a conference abroad and I was very excited
about it. On hearing this news, an upper caste faculty said to me, “See, your
community people are now flying all over the world. But still, you people don’t
want to give up reservations. On the one side your community people are set-
tling abroad and on the other side they are taking benefits due to reservation. Is
this not injustice to unreserved students?” I am always being watched by my
peer group and teachers. They try to monitor my social activities, with whom I
am meeting, any academic paper I am writing and even my experiments in the
laboratory.
During the farewell party of our batch, I was humiliated. I was speaking
on the mike when suddenly an upper caste teacher comes to me and snat-
ched away the mike, saying that my voice is not good. He handed over the
mike to an upper caste girl mentioning that her voice is good. Even socio-
cultural opportunities come easily to upper caste students. The faculties
are very careful to choose students from their own caste groups for any
academic work. This mostly happens in Pharmacy, Architecture and Engi-
neering departments, which are usually dominated by upper caste male
faculties.
Unfortunately, sexual harassment is common in this university. It happens in
many ways. The management students have a dress code. Both boy and girl
students have to wear trousers and shirts to look more formal. Some teachers
gaze at the female bodies, which is very embarrassing. Many a time, even in the
hostel the dominant community girls think that they are not supposed to do
petty chores and force Dalit girls to do these chores on their behalf. It is
through my hard work that I secured a seat but people think that we are
unworthy. My aspiration is to get into my department as a faculty where
people considered me as non-meritorious.
Case Study 4
I joined the PG course in the open category as I secured a good rank in the
entrance. My father is a government employee and my mother is a homemaker.
We are Dalit Christians. My family wished me to secure a good education,
enjoy a good career and enhance the family prestige. Initially, because of my
good English language skills I did not face many problems, though conversing
in the local language did create some hassles. Fortunately, my department tea-
chers are friendly and supportive though my classmates harbour prejudices
against Dalits. Whenever we try to speak in class, they will roll their eyes and
act as if our arguments are meaningless. Though I secured a seat in the general
merit list I am ridiculed as a “quota’s student” and slurs like, “you do not need
to study; you will easily get fellowship”; such comments are quite common.
There are covert forms of discrimination. I was invited by my classmate to
her hostel room. While conversing, the issue of caste came up and I revealed my
origins. There was an uncomfortable silence and then the discussion veered to
reservations, merit, how it’s easy for us to achieve anything, even join a uni-
versity without much effort etc. It was very humiliating. My peer groups are all
Dalits from different states.
I am a social drinker and free-spirited independent person. I never shy away
from voicing my opinions. When others realize my caste status, their attitude
reflects their patriarchal nature. Suddenly, I am no longer ‘cool’ but “these
people are like this only”. It’s fashionable and ‘progressive’ for upper caste
women to drink but when we do we are judged morally. According to few such
hypocrites, SC students or SC girls are supposed to be in that samosa19 packed
churidars20 and oily heads. They don’t/can’t accept growth and development in
us. Comfortable or branded clothes, straightened hair or groomed bodies, good
English in an SC girl irks the hell out of a regular upper caste woman/man.
Particularly, for an upper caste man, we should be simple, an easy-to-get sex
object. We are sorry! We are here to live our lives! Not to please you!
Case Study 5
I was not aware of being an SC till after I saw my 10th leaving certificate. My
awareness and knowledge of caste and sensitivity grew in a slow process and
gained momentum only in the last two to three years, after I met my partner
who is an Ambedkarite. As an elite SC, I did not face as much discrimination as
I am very fluent in English and can handle social situations with ease. It was
when I went on a field trip and interacted outside of my university space that I
faced slight discrimination when people found it hard to believe that I could be
an SC and that I have also used quota. Time and again, I have had discussions
with people regarding the issue of reservation and question of merit.
As I had the privilege of having educated parents and elite background, cas-
teism for me was very subtle. For example, after I got to know my caste, my
family asked me to not to tell anyone about it. When I told my friends, they
assumed I would get into good colleges by virtue of quota. When I got into MA
in general category many still implicitly believed that I must have used my
quota. Being a Scheduled Caste and also from an affluent background is difficult
to comprehend for many people who may ask my surname to confirm my social
background.
I myself have been attracted more towards elite, upper caste/class peers
due to my upbringing. But increasingly with more knowledge about caste-
related issues on campus, I have started interacting with Bahujan students.
Before getting sensitized to these issues, I myself have unknowingly practiced
exclusion and discrimination. It is, therefore, necessary to not only discuss
discrimination with those affected but also make the perpetuators aware
about such behaviour.
As far as I am concerned, Dalits should not get into every protest. That is the
leftist mode of struggle. But we should follow constitutional methods. We
should be more strategic as we can easily be punished for protesting, unlike
other castes for whom it is much easier. When I was part of a left-oriented
cultural group, I realized their hypocrisy on caste, class and gender. I am also
vocal about Buddhism and my leftist friends think it is not ideologically accep-
table. They discriminate very subtly. A couple of my Dalit classmates face
problems with their teachers and research issues due to their poor language
skills. I found that many female teachers of my department favour male stu-
dents more in their academic work.
Case Study 6
I am pursuing my doctoral research in English. My father is a private college
employee and mother is a homemaker. We are Dalit Christians. My purpose in
joining the university was to attain academic advancement, good employment
and ensure family prestige. I get RGNF, which made my peer group more jea-
lous and they abuse Dr Ambedkar for initiating reservations. Comments like
“You do not need to bother about anything, even your work” are very
common. Despite being from dominant caste, my supervisor is very friendly and
supportive. Many teachers are prejudiced and do not encourage Dalit students
in the classroom and other spaces. They maintain their social distance and
never look at our work. Caste, religion and language are major sources of dis-
crimination that I faced in my campus. Many upper caste students perform
badly during viva, but their thesis gets passed; whereas for Dalit students, their
thesis at times might be rejected for small errors. Comments like “You do not
know the basics of English. Why did you take admission in this department?”
are commonly addressed to Dalit students. When a fellow Dalit student shared
with his upper caste teacher that he has qualified for the State Eligibility Test
for Lectureship, the latter remarked that it’s only because of your caste. When I
scored highest marks in an examination, I was told that it’s because of your
good handwriting and not your subject knowledge. An upper caste female tea-
cher would make her students do domestic work, pick up and drop off her
children and at times make them clean her toilets. Many teachers force their
students to publish their work jointly.
Being Christians and specifically Dalit Christians, we face discrimination
from both upper castes and Hindu SCs. When I posted a Merry Christmas
message on the students WhatsApp group, an upper caste student chided me,
“do not spread your religion”, whereas Ganesh Puja and Navratri21 messages
are very common. There are sub-caste issues also within the Dalit groups on
campus. During conversations with friends and classmates, the issue of caste
and reservation causes the maximum cleavage among upper caste peers. Similar
sentiments prevail among the Dalit sub-caste groups. The SC/ST cell is not
functional. If there is any SC official in the administration, they will support
our issues.
I have found that students are very wary of interacting across their caste
boundaries, or even forging intimate relationships, as there have been many
killings in my region on this issue. Before I joined research studies, I worked as
a teacher in a school nearby my village. The school director was not happy
with my joining PhD. Another upper caste person in my village asked me as to
what I am doing. I replied that I am pursuing PhD. He commented that “if all
SCs start getting educated, who will do manual labour in our fields?” Despite
getting educated, they still treat us as labourers. My ardent wish is to complete
my research, get a good job and try to break the barriers of caste.
Case Study 7
A first-generation learner, I am pursuing my doctoral studies in English Litera-
ture. I am also involved in social and political activities on campus. My social
activism and close interaction with a friendly teacher who encouraged me to
read and reflect on Dalit issues shaped my understanding of matters of class and
caste. I began to read Ambedkar and realized the importance of constitutional
rights for the marginalized groups. During my MPhil days, I became aware of
the nature of caste and its role in our everyday life. Earlier, I used to think that
a university is only a space to attain a degree and subsequently to get employ-
ment. Now I am aware of the academic world and different modes of thinking.
I consider that education is the only way to have awareness about the world
around us.
In any form of examination, the errors made by Dalit students are magnified.
Even small grammatical faults are highlighted during viva and the upper caste
teachers ridicule us by saying, “you guys can never become writers because you
don’t know where to put commas and full stop”. “In the process of securing
admission into PhD, in the general category, you are taking away an unreserved
candidate’s seat”. This undermines our confidence. Somehow, I feel that upper
caste faculties deliberately keep us busy so as to prevent us from participating
in any kind of protest. They threaten to cut our attendance, which will nega-
tively impact our grades. Students get benefits from their proximity to teachers
who belong to their own castes.
Though I secured a seat in the Open category, my upper caste peers stigma-
tize me as a “35 marks student” (minimum passing marks in the exam). I am
the only student to avail JRF in my batch but everyone considers it as a charity
rather than merit. Despite my hard work, I remain a ‘quota’s student’ for my
teachers and fellow students. Those who get RGNF, they are branded as stu-
dents who get fellowship because of their lower caste identity. The upper caste
students spread rumours and comments about us that, “SC students spend
money on leisure and pleasure things only and they don’t study hard”. It is a
big hurdle to avail fellowships as most of the administrative staff belongs to the
dominant community and delay matters under some pretext. But in reality, they
do not wish that SC students will get monetary aid to pursue our studies.
The teacher-student relationship is mediated by caste, religion, region, class
and gender. Let me give an example. An upper caste female teacher asked us to
collect some books from her place. She is considered to be a good scholar, very
modern and progressive. However, we received a cultural shock when we went
to her house. Dressed in traditional attire, she asked us to purify ourselves with
water (by washing our feet outside) before entering inside. However, my friends
were asked to go inside while I was kept waiting outside. For me, it was a
humiliating experience from a teacher. In research publications, many teachers
force their research students to include their names.
Naturally, the upper class and caste students are fluent in English and tea-
chers would grade them highly despite their assignments being copy and paste. I
can recall an incident where a teacher bent every rule to provide admission to a
boy who belonged to his own caste. He was the HOD and no questions were
raised. Though caste discrimination is a reality, there also exists sub-caste
inequity. I have experienced this from teachers who belong to different SC sub-
castes. This became more evident once I started raising this matter on social
media and participating in campus politics. I am friendly with students of all
communities but eating habits create tensions within the group. Whenever I get
beef to eat in the campus, I am ostracized by the other caste students.
The cases of sexual harassment and domestic help by students are very much
visible in this university. The students are made to clean cars; they are made to
lodge false complaints against rival teachers. Dalit women students are slut-
shamed by both upper caste teachers and students. I wish that Dalit youth in
the campuses would become conscious of Ambedkar’s struggles and unitedly
fight Brahmanical domination. They also need to reflect on social equity
amongst themselves as the benefits of reservations need to be proportionately
redistributed.
Case Study 8
I am the first person in my family to go for higher education. We belong to a
community of washermen (dhobi). My father was very eager that I should
become an engineer but that was not to be. From my master’s, I was a left
activist. I am pursuing my doctoral studies in Hindi language. Many people
stigmatize me that, “your study will fetch you a PhD degree but no jobs”. For
me, language was the first barrier I faced on different campuses wherever I
studied as everything is conducted in English. Now, I am part of the Dalit stu-
dents’ organization.
I have noticed that Dalit students face discrimination during viva, based
on their supervisor’s caste location and the topic they have chosen for
research. You have more Dalit students working on the empirical reality of
caste post-1990s, which challenges the supremacy of the upper castes. Now,
they cannot maintain the feudal structure to oppress Dalits so they use an
indirect form of institutional discrimination, by asking unrelated questions,
to demoralize them so that they leave the place. In my MPhil, I secured
admission through reservation but in my PhD, I competed in the open
category and obtained a seat. I am getting RGNF but my supervisor denied
signing the application as I was very active in the campus struggles against
discrimination. I would hear comments like, “tum logo ka to ho jata hai,
tum to ‘Supreme Court’ se ate ho. Tume kya pata general category se lad
kar ana kitna mushikal hota, aur koi fellowship bhi nhi milta tum logo ki
tarah.” (SC is a sarcastic reference to Scheduled Caste that they are invin-
cible like the Supreme Court. You are unaware of the problems fighting for
resources in the general category).
Unfortunately, the horrifying experiences of my school days are reiterated in
the modern campuses albeit in a more sophisticated form. Here, you face psy-
chological violence and not outright physical violence. During my school days,
the principal used to beat Dalit boys using abusive language on caste lines.
Though I try to interact with everyone, the upper caste students maintain a
distance. Many a time we are unaware of the caste discrimination embedded in
the everyday experiences. Apart from region, religion, caste, appearance,
gender, we face discrimination based on our research topics also. Once they
know your social background, even girls stay apart. I also realized that within
Dalits, there are also class differences as the middle- and upper-class Dalit tea-
chers and students maintain distance from poorer Dalit students.
On my first trip abroad to present a paper, I realized how important it is to
equip oneself with language abilities. I used to feel depressed that my social
origins prevented me from gaining many skills and gradually realized how cul-
tural capital is crucial for us. I lost many academic opportunities because of my
lack of English language abilities. In that conference abroad, a panel member
from the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) told me, “videsh mai desh ke
burai nahi karte hai” (one should not criticize your own country in a foreign
land). My department knew about my activism and stopped my fellowship for a
year saying that the Department Research Committee (DRC) has some issues
with my research topic. Compared to other students, my viva would last for a
longer time, around forty-five minutes for any presentation in the department
and I understood that it’s a punishment for my campus participation in social
justice concerns. Throughout my academic journey, I never had the good for-
tune to experience encouragement from my teachers.
Those students who are active in various movements on campus are closely
monitored by their peers, teachers and the administrative staff. Though there
are SC teachers in my department, they are never a source of support. I strongly
feel that there should be a legal provision, something like the Rohith Act to
counter discrimination; “duniya ko jitna jaldi ho sake badal dena chahiye” (as
soon as possible, we should transform the world).
Case Study 9
I am pursuing my research in a foreign language. My father is a government
employee and my mother is a homemaker. We fall under the lower income
group. My college teachers motivated me to go for further studies. I receive
fellowship to sustain my education. It’s only due to fellowships that many stu-
dents like me even dream about joining research. In the university, there are
many subtle ways of discrimination against Dalit students. I know of cases
where Dalit students did very well in written exams during the entrance but
went on to score single digit marks – one or two marks in viva. The interview
committee ensures that the SC students can never make it to the general merit
list.
My fellowship is from ICSSR and unlike other fellowships specifically for SC/
ST students, this fellowship is perceived to be based on merit. However, I have
been told that “you are snatching others’ rights”. Even in the classroom, we
used to feel alienated as the language and pedagogy is a barrier for interaction.
The teachers do not encourage students from the Bahujan background and their
tone would change if we asked any questions. My Ambedkarite ideology is not
accepted by the teachers. I feel more comfortable with Bahujan students as the
dominant caste students do not feel welcoming enough. The body language,
appearance and felicity with English of the latter intimidate us. We feel inferior
in their presence. However, now I also feel that gradually things are changing
and my peer group is also giving me confidence. When the others pass negative
comments against me, I become more resolved to prove them wrong with my
hard work. In my master’s, I was more inhibited in front of upper caste stu-
dents but once I joined research, my confidence level grew. I have found that
upper caste teachers and students are dismissive of any academic achievements
of Dalit students.
The teachers have a tendency to favour their region or community students
and there is discrimination in grading/marking. This helps students who get
‘good’ grades or are intelligent and qualified in other ways – language, caste,
family background, ideological connections etc. and as Dalit students often lack
these attributes, very few teachers are willing to supervise them. I also know of
cases where the thesis chapters or assignments have been rejected. In my uni-
versity, Dalit students pursuing sciences have to struggle for minimum infra-
structural facilities. They do not have access to laboratory spaces or sufficient
materials for research unlike other caste students. Personally, I have found
many SC/ST professors also being insensitive to the plight of Dalit students.
Maybe they succumb to their peer pressure and for their own academic
progress.
A few research scholars face a tough time, as many a time, the supervisors
informally ask them to help at their homes; I have heard of girl students being
sexually harassed. I also used to teach MPhil classes but was never paid for it.
On campus, I have been active in political groups. I also participate in Bahujan
reading groups and cultural activities. I am also aware of the internal contra-
dictions regarding caste between left and Bahujan groups on campus.
Whenever Dalit students face any issue, the administration from the HOD,
Dean to the higher authorities respond in a negative manner as they are not
sensitized to caste-based discrimination. This has led to SC/ST/OBC students
being penalized when they question the administrative apathy. They are issued
show cause notices, constituting enquiry committees against them, punitive
fines, filing police cases and eventually rustication. The SC/ST cell does exist
but they are toothless and influenced by the administration. Often our cultural
and political activities are restricted. Even in the hostels, caste is very apparent,
from the selection of roommates to the dining spaces. If the warden is of the
same caste, then your work is done quickly. Even the food is not of our choice.
Hostel mess is increasingly getting sanitized.
In order to make the campus space more equitable, there should be an Anti-
Discrimination Act with a proper grievance redressal mechanism in place.
There should be effective legal remedies to resolve such cases; if possible, by
Dalit Bahujan lawyers. I believe that such an Act should be named after Rohith
Vemula as he also sacrificed his life for the Ambedkarite cause.
Case Study 10
My family subsists on daily wages and it has been a tough journey for me to
enrol for higher studies. I joined the postgraduate program in Mathematics
after clearing the entrance test. Whatever might be the problems at home, I
always scored first class all through my school till my graduation, which I
completed with Mathematics as my major subject. However, to my rude shock
in my master’s, my highest score was 24 in two papers out of a maximum of 75
marks. In two years, I scored only 147 marks out of the grand total of 800
marks. I spoke privately to a few sympathetic teachers and also approached
student groups both Left and Dalit organizations. Unfortunately, they were not
able to help me out.
In desperation, I filed complaints to every authority, the Vice Chancellor and
the Registrar of the university, Dean Students Welfare, MHRD/UGC and SC/
ST Commission. As the latter is a constitutional body, the university authorities
were forced to respond to the direct summons of the SC/ST Commission. They
did not even bother to verify my marks or talk to me and simply closed the case
stating that as I could not secure the requisite 40% of marks to clear the exam,
I am declared failed. Along with me, another SC student was also victimized by
the department through a faulty evaluation process. Only after repeated official
letters by the Commission did the university authorities respond. In the official
meeting called by the Commission, the university failed to submit my answer
scripts. A decision was taken that faculty from another institution would eval-
uate my answer scripts.
All this running around was taking a toll on my physical and mental health.
My brother was the sole source of financial aid. My family was hopeful that
after my studies, I will be able to shoulder my share of the domestic burden. I
could not share my troubles with them. I worried that even if the department is
forced to ‘pass’ me, they will try other means to tamper with my career. In the
meantime, I sat for the entrance for IIT Madras and IISc Bangalore. Luckily I
was selected in IIT Madras but I was tense about managing the admission fees.
Only after I have joined the course can I avail of any fellowship. I thought
better to drop the course and do some work to earn money. Fortunately, a few
teachers helped me with monetary aid and I was able to join IIT.
I realized that none of the university authorities to whom I begged for help
came to my aid. My friends used to help me draft letters. The SC/ST Cell in the
university simply ignored my problems. MHRD/UGC only filed my complaints.
The only help I received was when I approached the SC/ST Commission and
they directed the university repeatedly to provide details of my case. It was a
lonely battle for me. With the help of conscious Dalit teachers, I was able to
continue my education.
Case Study 11
Education played a very important role in my life. I was born in a slum settle-
ment in the nation’s capital. Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, my
mother’s family got her married early and ever since then she laboured hard to
provide for us. My father did petty jobs to survive. My mother washed clothes
for a living and inspired me to get educated. Fortunately, the household where
my mother worked helped her with the paperwork to get my brother admitted
to the local municipal school. The school was very shabby with poor infra-
structure but it provided me with a safe environment to play and study. In
contrast, my slum colony witnessed frequent violence and my family also did
not provide a conducive space to study.
One thing I always remember is the constant battle to continue my educa-
tion, as my father considered it a waste of money and time and my extended
family insisted on my early marriage. Luckily, I topped my school in the higher
secondary board exam. My father realized my achievement when his co-work-
ers told him that I should be admitted to a regular college. I recollect that filling
up the admission forms and other paperwork was stressful as it was an unfa-
miliar space. The language, people, mannerisms were totally different to what I
encountered in my slum. I joined a Girls College as my parents thought it was
more secure for me and preserved their family honour. I never thought about
my social location as I was always confined to it. I worked very hard to keep up
with the new environment but had to face casteist slurs from peers who came
from well-off families. “Mai janti hu tu Juggi Jopadi (J. J. Colony) mai rahne
wali ladki hai, teri koi aukat nhi hai hum logo ke sath baithne ke” (I know you
stay in a slum and you have no status to sit with people like us). This comment
by a classmate forced me to acknowledge my caste and class identity. As I
scored good marks, I never had to use any kind of reservation. My friends used
to ask me to accompany them for films or shopping, but I was hesitant as I
never had the money and also my parents would stop my education if they
came to know about it. Luckily, I received a fellowship as I used to come top in
the class. In my final year of graduation, my department asked me to speak on
my experiences during the farewell party. For the first time, I tried to speak in
English, but due to nervousness I started stammering. Then one English
medium student commented on me, “do you think such kind of people become
toppers or inspiration for anyone who can’t even speak a single word in Eng-
lish”. That incident led me to question my abilities and I decided to continue
my further education in English medium only.
I applied to various universities and finally got admission in a central uni-
versity for PG in Political Science. The first day was terrifying as students were
all conversing in English and the teachers also lectured in English. I frantically
tried to search for word meanings. Gradually, there were two sections in the
class, those who were fluent in the class and others like me who tried to get a
sense of belonging. Interacting with my classmates, I heard for the first time,
words like MPhil and PhD and later realized that they are courses to be studied
after PG. One of the teachers argued that I cannot score 55% marks in MA to
pursue further studies. I was determined to get first class and worked hard for it
and finally achieved it.
During my PG, I was introduced to radical social thinkers like Ambedkar
and Periyar, which helped me to understand our society better. I realized
how patriarchy worked as I experienced and witnessed emotional and phy-
sical violence in my family. My dream was to educate myself and be capable
enough to escape from these hurdles. I used to spend time in the library to
avoid spending time at home. My friend from graduation days, an upper
caste girl always helped me out whenever I needed emotional or financial
support.
My father was very clear that he would not permit me to continue my stu-
dies. I took tuition to support myself and enrolled for research. My supervisor,
who is also an SC supported my efforts and encouraged me to travel for various
seminars and workshops both within the country and abroad. Gradually, I
gained confidence in my language ability and could get two papers published in
reputed academic journals. I contribute to my family’s expenses with my fel-
lowship money. My father is still not happy with my progress and considers my
education as waste.
A particular incident continues to haunt me. Once in my high school, I was
failed into Mathematics paper and my classmates teased me as a ‘loser’. I felt
very upset and even thought of committing suicide. When I look back, I feel
that now I am a more confident person and can overcome any challenge.
Case Study 12
My sister and I were orphaned at an early age. A relative left us on a train and
a Muslim lady who used to sell fruits at the station noticed us crying, took pity
on us and took us home. She had a small child of her own and a husband who
was always drunk. She could not look after us properly due to her economic
condition and her husband’s wayward behaviour. Her neighbours suggested
that we should be sent to an orphanage located near the railway tracks, which
was run by a Dalit lady.
This Dalit lady whom the children fondly called Amma (mother) had devoted
her life to look after kids like us who were abandoned due to various reasons.
Unfortunately, my sister could not bear living in the orphanage and ran away. I
still feel traumatized and wait for her return. Despite her hard work, Amma
struggled to feed us and get us educated. Not many people were willing to help
an orphanage run by a Dalit lady. After my second standard in the local school,
she approached a Christian institute to support our education. It was a happy
experience as we got regular food, infrastructure to study and a supportive
environment. During the holidays, we would be back at the orphanage and I
would work in the vegetable market to support my ‘family’. When I look back I
find it funny that as a child I am not supposed to work; it is considered child
labour but a local politician helped me to secure this work.
Fortunately, students who showed promise were supported for their higher
studies by the same Christian organization and I secured admission in a college
in a metropolis. It was scary and thrilling at the same time, the feeling of being
alone. Twice I tried to run back to the orphanage as the language and envir-
onment were unfamiliar. Gradually, I was able to cope and secured first class in
the English medium. Thus I completed my formal schooling and eighteen years
of living in the orphanage but there was no sign of my sister. I wished to go for
a professional degree or study economics or commerce, which would help to
support my orphanage but could not due to lack of financial support. I realized
that I need to finish my degree with whatever course is available.
I joined a university and it was a big cultural shock, from filling up various
forms to seeing smartly dressed students, polished language and a free lifestyle,
which filled me with dread. I wondered how I would cope. Gradually, I
befriended Christian groups on campus and we met regularly for prayers but
my political views were very naïve. I attended a meeting called by a Dalit stu-
dent organization and realized the nature of issues that prevailed in the campus.
There occurred many debates on caste-based discrimination on the campus and
I felt motivated to join the struggle for a more inclusive campus.
My teachers in the department were not happy with my political activities
and would often use the attendance policy against me. I tried hard to ensure
that my academic work was not hampered but still I could not fight their pre-
judices. My friend faced a serious crisis when he was not allowed to enrol for a
PhD despite being a JRF holder. We complained to the VC and even the
National Commission for Scheduled Castes. The latter directed the department
to permit him to join and they ignored the official directive. As I was involved
in all these protests, even my PhD admission got delayed, though my supervisor
(a Dalit faculty) was very supportive.
I realized that if we do not protest, no one will do so on our behalf and
justice will not prevail. I faced a lot of criticism and my peers would laugh at
me that because of my activism, I am unable to secure a seat. There was no one
at the orphanage that could help me or anyone get any other support. I was
often ridiculed that I am here only for free food and not for studies. However, I
am grateful that my supervisor stood with me and I was able to join in PhD. I
have learnt many lessons with my involvement in campus politics.
First, Dalits coming to campus is a great challenge. I don’t see this main-
stream culture and politics welcoming Dalits easily. Moreover, it is a very
hard learning process to survive for those who come from remote villages.
Second, for Dalit students to sustain themselves in hostels and academics is
another great trial. Dalit appearance, language, discipline, manners and
approach are always a problem within and outside the classroom for the pri-
vileged sections. Third, Dalits are not self-sustainable, so they have to survive
on the state or central scholarships. So far in my 14 years of campus life, state
and central governments never released their rightful and promised money on
time. This delay is a testing time with pains, struggles, inconvenience, and
patience to study. And Dalits are treated as if everything is freely given. But
this happened because of countless and continuous struggles/agitations.
Fourth, after all this, Dalits have to compete with other students in the class
while experiencing discriminatory slurs. Comments like, “they are Dalits that
is why they don’t study, they are not able to cope up even after everything is
provided freely. They come here only for food and not for studies”. But, how
many are able to understand the struggle many Dalits undergo. Reaching
mainstream society itself is a big deal, as I said in the first reason. After
coming here they have to invest their time in learning elite campus major-
itarian culture such as language, dressing up, manners, making friends, being
well-dressed, talking to people in English language, learning new vernaculars,
gaining teachers’ attention, and getting the best grades. Additionally, they
have to keep worrying about their scholarship, which will be released often
after their course is completed. Protesting to secure rights, availing facilities,
fighting against mental harassment, psychological and physical discrimina-
tions are additional conditions to which Dalits need to be habituated if they
want to enrol and survive in elite institutions. The majority of Dalits face
many problems while accessing higher education. This creates an extra burden
to support their hard-working parents financially and socially. So a Dalit
student’s life in higher education is always and everywhere a challenge but
never a cakewalk journey. Dalits have to carry and live with different sorts of
discrimination if they want to finish their degrees successfully. It doesn’t
matter whether you are being called Dalit, being friendly with faculty or you
are treated as a Dalit or lower class. Dalit is a Dalit and we have to face and
navigate caste discrimination to succeed in life.
Life Narratives: Secondary Sources
Case Study 1
This is a story of a first-generation Dalit student who wants to be
anonymous.22
I am going to tell a story. A story that many students in University of
Hyderabad can probably relate to. But, before I begin, I want to make a few
things clear. After a relentless struggle, I have now achieved what I fought for.
Now I am a PhD scholar in Department of Telugu. So, in order to avoid
repercussions, I will be careful enough to avoid names of the people who dis-
criminated against me. I was born in a remote village in Vikarabad of Ranga
Reddy district in Telangana. Born into a poor Dalit family, I studied in gov-
ernment schools till my intermediate. I passed final exams of both 10th class
and intermediate with over 80%. Later, I joined the UoH for Integrated Mas-
ter’s Programme. I started learning about my rights and asserting my identity.
As I was about to complete my degree, I began to feel the heat of caste dis-
crimination. I qualified NET in my fourth semester. Later, I qualified for the
Junior Research Fellowship (JRF). I also finished my master’s with a score of
over 80%. From here things turned really difficult for me. My caste became a
hurdle and discrimination pushed me to even approach National Commission
for SC and ST.
For a normal student with a JRF, MPhil admission is a cakewalk. But, when
I applied, they refused to admit me. The reason I still believe is because I
belonged to a lower caste. I had no money to survive because I was already an
orphan. I took up a job with a vernacular newspaper in Hyderabad. I lost a
year despite appeals. The next year, in 2012, I joined MPhil after fighting a lot
of odds. I finished my dissertation a year later, and got the highest score. But
the worst was yet to happen. When I applied for PhD, I was again refused
admission. I approached the faculty concerned to find out the reason. The
person told me to my face, “I will not give you a seat here”. But I did not give
up. I went again, this time begging them to take me in. But, nothing changed. I
heard they did not like the students who asserted their identity. They also did
not like students who were politically active.
Things were worse in Department of Telugu then. A student committed sui-
cide and another attempted suicide due to humiliation. I too was succumbing to
the darkest fear I had never felt before. I went to my room and remained there
for three days with overwhelming suicidal thoughts. I don’t know what would
have happened if my friends from Ambedkar Students Association had not
helped me out. They joined me in my struggle. One day, when a national
seminar was going on in Department of Telugu, the ASA cadres went in. Pro-
testing caste discrimination, they questioned the faculty. The people concerned
did what they had planned to do. They called the police and we were forced
out. I later heard that the then vice-chancellor even asked the staff concerned to
take me in. But still nothing changed.
I knocked on the doors of National Commission for SC & ST. They
responded positively writing a letter to the department. But by then I had
already lost a year. I could have joined Osmania University for a PhD. But the
fact that I was denied the opportunity in UoH frustrated me. Finally, after a
year of struggle, they took me in.
Case Study 2
One of the first things that was hammered into my head during the orientation
session at Birla Institute of Technology and Science (BITS), Pilani was how
proud I23 should be about the fact that I got into this college entirely on merit –
a fundamental part of BITS’ ethos. There are no reservations of any kind
besides a very small handful of seats – in limited streams – for students from
certain schools in Pilani and children of employees at the Birla Education Trust.
At the orientation, the administrator was positively ecstatic while describing
how everyone present there deserved to be there; everyone seemed to agree that
casteism had no place within a campus like ours.
And to some extent, he was right: in my four years as a Dalit at BITS, I never
faced any outright casteism. Instead, what I experienced was a variety of
moments – big and small – of institutionalized casteism. The atmosphere at
BITS has been designed to encourage students to think beyond caste since we
were all there based on ‘merit’. It convinced us that those who didn’t get in
were not good enough. However, it also ensures that we don’t critique the very
idea of ‘merit’ which, according to me, is flawed in a system that debars
numerous entrants from even applying. BITS’ high fee, computer-based
entrance exam and lack of reservations exclude a majority of potential SC, ST
and OBC candidates without ever having to identify them as such.
This has created a relatively homogenous population of predominantly
upper-class and upper-caste students who, by virtue of their relative homo-
geneity, would not need to engage with the reality of caste in college and
society. The college’s system thus ensures that we carry forward all the worst
assumptions that society has about reservations and reserved category students:
their capabilities, backgrounds, and so on. It creates an environment wherein
we are made to believe that casteism doesn’t exist and we are discouraged from
questioning our own complicity.
It was an environment in which I could never have openly discussed my Dalit
identity. I was isolated by virtue of a lack of other Dalit students. I was always
in the minority in any discussion that centred around societal issues of caste
and reservation. I was never comfortable enough to disclose who I was because
of the constant narrative – both complicit and implied – shared by so many of
my peers that assumed that my Dalit and lower-caste batchmates were “not
good enough” if they needed reservation to enter spaces that were otherwise
closed for them.
The first time I was confronted with BITS’ problems with caste was when I
was outright asked: “Hey, you’re a Tam Brahm, right?” It’s a question that
seemed innocuous enough the first time, and I simply responded: “No. I’m
Tam, but not Brahm.” I used that response the second, third, and fourth time I
was asked the same question, and found different ways to avoid answering the
follow-up question: “Oh, so then what are you?” By around the tenth time, I
just left it at “no”. And at around the twentieth time, I just started asking,
“Why would you assume that?” I knew the answer, of course.
BITS’ admissions policies unintentionally create a situation where the idea of
someone being from Tamil Nadu but not being a Brahmin while still having
managed to get admission seemed bizarre; it was an idea that just didn’t regis-
ter. Non-Brahmin/upper-caste Tamilians were a rarity and Dalit Tamils even
more so. This sort of disconnected view of “wait, why aren’t you like us?”
would reoccur whenever a certain professor would offer to perform the cere-
monial rituals for students who wore their sacred threads, and someone would
ask me why I wasn’t coming to get mine done. Another illustrative example of
BITS’ problems with caste came in the form of a passing conversation with a
close friend. He was describing a recent internship experience. His internship
coincided with that of a group of students from another highly rated public
engineering college.
While discussing his work, he began to comment on how poorly that other
group of students was performing, and mentioned how he wasn’t surprised to
find out that they were reserved-category students. It took a moment of silence
and some hasty backtracking for him to clarify what he meant, but the message
was fairly clear: it’s safe to assume that if you’re a reserved category student,
you’re probably going to be substandard at your work. These sorts of casual
remarks were not infrequent, and made me feel better about practicing self-
preservation by not telling my friends about my background.
My final example of BITS’ problems with caste comes from a long, heated
discussion I had with some of my closest friends in that confusing period just
after the CAT results had been announced. We discussed the results of people
we knew, and who we thought would clear the perceived interview-call cut-offs
for GEM candidates (General Engineering Males). The conversation inevitably
veered towards reservation, and how “unlucky” they were not to be eligible for
lower cut-offs. From there, the discussion shifted to verbal attacks on all those
“rich” Dalits/OBCs/STs that they knew who would be abusing the system.
What was never discussed was why there were so few candidates from mar-
ginalized communities that were applying (which was the real cause for such
low cut-offs). The conversation never dwelled on how those sole exceptional
cases of “abuse” that they had heard of tended to be distorted or outright false
second, third, or fourth-hand accounts. We never talked about how the rela-
tively rare true cases were less in the nature of abuse by rich Dalits and more in
the nature of a second-generation reservation beneficiary being one of the few
success cases in their community.
The unspoken thought I always had was: these people feel this way about an
imagined other, so how would they feel about me? None of these are the sort of
examples that one would think of as obviously casteist. No slurs were cast, no
atrocities committed; there was no incident that would make the news. But
what they added up to is a system that perpetuates institutionalized casteism.
The system brought in an overwhelming majority of upper castes and com-
munities (I don’t recall meeting a single other Dalit in my course or batch),
which meant that in class discussions and in the design of school policies, other
perspectives were less likely to come up. The system taught us to look down on
people who needed reservation to access education and jobs, which by proxy
meant looking down on the communities themselves. The system taught us to
assume that people who used reservations were by default worse students/
employees, which by proxy meant that people from such communities were by
default worse students/employees. The system basically allowed us to pretend
that caste didn’t exist, and thus locked us into our rolls as agents in the pro-
pagation of casteism.
I’ve often wondered since I graduated what could have helped the college
shed its inadvertent casteism. I’ve found myself comparing BITS to the uni-
versity I attended afterwards, where I’ve felt so much better about my identity
and my safety. What was different? What could BITS have done better? The
reality is, it wouldn’t have required all that much. So long as BITS maintains its
aversion to reservation, a lack of representation will always exist. At the very
least though, the provision of more SC/ST/OBC-focused scholarships from the
University’s side could at least mitigate the cost-aspect that prevents them from
applying. The campus already offers a number of merit-cum-needs and other
scholarships, so a targeted approach wouldn’t have been such a stretch. I feel so
much better now simply because there are more people like me. Representation
matters, and this could help BITS’ demographic issues.
BITS has a great system of providing optional courses, and some of my
favourite optional courses came from the Humanities Department. Courses like
Modern Political Concepts and Gandhian Thoughts already lay a great foun-
dation for subaltern thinking, but an explicit course on Ambedkarite philoso-
phy could help immensely. The exposure I’ve gained in my new university to
broader ways of thinking have helped me immensely, and the roots of such an
exposure already exist for BITS to nourish. One of BITS’ biggest USPs has
always been its student-driven approach to college life, but student activism
was always limited to specific issues within the campus. There were very few
active student groups that focused on discussing the larger world outside or on
engaging with societal issues. Student activism is a controversial topic and
engineering students often feel like they shouldn’t get involved, but BITS has a
history of students speaking out. The college was shut down at times in the 70s
and 80s. We’ve seen pictures of mass student agitations from the earliest
batches.
Even the current decade has seen multiple movements centred around campus
issues like mess food, fee hikes and women’s curfew timings. That energy,
directed toward issues like caste, could be transformative. Ultimately, BITS was
never the worst place in which to exist as a Dalit. Most of the casteism I
experienced came from ignorance, not from malice. Some of the people I met
there are now my closest friends and allies, people I now feel comfortable
enough with to discuss my Dalit identity. In many other ways, BITS has been
great in responding to the pulls of society. But like all other institutions, there’s
just so much room left for growth.
Case Study 3
I24 learnt about being a ‘Scheduled Caste’ the day the CLAT results were
declared. I was thrilled, but also felt a bit undeserving. My parents never spoke
about caste in front of me. They kept our caste identity hidden to ensure that
my rosy childhood was not marred by the pangs of inferior belonging – a feel-
ing they painfully knew too well. I should have seen the signs, particularly in
my father’s pro-reservation stand. But childhood is, at times, simply an illusion.
In school, I would always stand on the ‘neutral’ side whenever savarna stu-
dents and teachers discussed reservation. I also naively believed that the caste
system must be made horizontal and that there was nothing wrong with the
varna system. My naivety was arguably linked to what my school taught and,
more importantly, what it did not. In our history textbooks, caste was only
mentioned in passing. We did not, and still do not, study anti-caste struggles
and movements. Instead, we enthusiastically discuss reservation. During one
such discussion, in a psychology class, I emphatically argued against caste-based
discrimination only to be ridiculed for being emotional and plain wrong.
Then, I joined the National Academy of Legal Studies and Research
(NALSAR), Hyderabad, which essentially meant plunging into a cesspool of
caste. Shockingly, the upper-caste students were used to throwing around
their caste symbols. I was introduced to terms like ‘Tam Brahm’, ‘Soot’ and
caste characteristics like the supposed stinginess of Baniyas. It was every-
where. I learnt that caste has personalities. I learnt about conspiracies to
socially boycott the ‘uncool’ reserved category. You must look, talk and
dress a certain way to earn upper-caste capital that allows you to hang out
in their niche circles. I’m sure you’ve all heard the phrase “looking like a
bhangi” at one point or another. Our everyday discussions were tainted with
caste biases.
One of my batchmates from the SC category, whose parents had an inter-
caste marriage, loved to talk about her mother’s upper-caste credentials but
dissociated herself from her father’s identity.
However, I don’t know if it is right to blame her, considering we, too, were
part of the same upper-caste environment that taught us to diss ourselves in
order to be deserving. Just like school, my college batchmates, too, didn’t sup-
port reservation. B. R. Ambedkar was nearly called a hypocrite by first-year
students who aspired to become constitutional law experts.
An academic environment that equated eloquence with intelligence had
induced an inferiority complex amongst us, compelling us to remain mute on
many occasions. One day, our then sociology professor Kalpana Kannabiran
screened the documentary India Untouched to sensitize the class. I was shaken
by the film, but an upper-caste batchmate ridiculed my expressions, saying,
“Megha looked shocked as if she herself was tortured.”
I failed to understand what was so funny about it, or why he wasn’t moved
by the documentary. The batchmate’s reaction to the film is actually the root of
upper-caste privilege: the ability to distance oneself from disturbing issues at
convenience. Privilege, I believe, not only blinds a person but also enables him
or her to trivialise the problem. It sees caste as a Dalit-Bahujan issue instead of
evaluating its own role in perpetuating the caste system. On social media, it is
reflected in Brahmin v. Rajput jokes or in cool hashtags like ‘#baniyabaes’.
The constitution, for one, recognizes caste but our society doesn’t – even
today. Hence caste exists in constitutional reservations but not in Manuvadi
reservations, that continue to build our society even today. It allows one to be
sympathetic when need be, but not empathetic. And that rare sympathy often
translates into a saviour complex where they say, “Hey look we are inclusive.
Why can’t you just be happy with this tokenism?” This privilege seeps into our
educational institutions too. I am not sure whether caste determined teacher
favouritism back in school but in NALSAR I had the opportunity to develop
my “upper caste capital”.
Nevertheless, I worked hard while I was there. Perhaps only to be taken a tad
more seriously by upper-caste batchmates. A few years ago, a very close Brah-
min friend apologized to me for having made anti-reservation remarks in col-
lege. I count that as a small step for her but a huge leap for mankind. There
were other positive changes too. When I left law school, the university had
started establishing the SC/ST cell as per University Grants Commission
guidelines. A Dalit Adivasi queer collective voice had started growing and a few
years later was established in the form of “Savitribai Intersectional Study
Circle”. The student community now provides support to freshers, something I
wish I had had when I joined the law school.
However, I hear that the NALSAR administration is still lagging behind in
the caste conversation. The SC/ST cell is defunct, there is only one Dalit teacher
on campus and OBC reservations are still not being implemented. Moreover,
complaints of caste-based discrimination by students fall on deaf ears of upper-
caste proctorial committees.
My current university – Ambedkar University, Delhi – according to me, is
more inclusive. The safai karamcharis, who were arbitrarily dismissed, stood
united and fought for their rights with the Dalit student body staunchly backing
them up. As a result, the administration heard and reinstated them. The
administration, in a way, stood up to casteism and acknowledged its mistake of
throwing out the karamcharis, who usually come from lower-caste back-
grounds. It has set an example for the entire country on how to address caste
issues as an institution.
While not everything is perfect, for the student body at AUD still needs caste
sensitization and the SC/ST cell is yet to be established, but at least this is a
good start. I believe collaborative efforts between student community and the
administration can evolve best practice models on inclusion and diversity. I
wish my legal alma mater would listen and eradicate its ego that fears Dalit
student voices. It needs to walk the talk; a talk that the professors taught us. At
a larger level, caste-based privileges continue to plague both the mentality of the
humans as well as the institutions created by them. There is only one solution
to this – the ‘annihilation of caste’ from the upper caste mind. But do you have
what it takes to be the Voltaire?
Case Study 4
Eight years ago, I25 was absolutely ecstatic to find out that I would be studying
at one of India’s finest law schools – NALSAR University of Law, Hyderabad. I
thought the experience would change me forever. And it did. It made me a
much more learned person, socially aware and empathetic towards the oppres-
sed and I remain ever grateful to the legal education I received there.
When I joined law school, I realized that people were allotted rooms based
on the marks they got in the Common Law Admission Test (CLAT). Students
belonging to Scheduled Caste/Scheduled Tribe/domicile category were given
rooms on the upper floors of the hostel, while those belonging to the general
category were given rooms on the ground floor for the first two years; the
rationale being rooms allotted on the basis of marks. However, it essentially
also meant the ghettoization of those who had got admission through
reservation.
Due to this, many students from the upper floor could not mingle freely with
people on the ground floors, nor could they build good friendships due to the
segregation that was so visible for those on the upper floors and mostly invi-
sible for those on the ground. Over the next few months, the segregation
developed into fragmentation within the batch – various groups were formed.
There were casual statements passed from students on the ground floor of the
hostels, like: “Tum log padhte kyun nahi ho” (Why don’t you people study)?
They also made fun of others’ English without giving due recognition to the
fact that the person might not have had access to a good education for various
reasons – be it poverty, exclusion or the absence of privilege. They made lists of
people who would never date in college or are just incapable of dating anyone
at all in the university. And, invariably, the list consisted of names exclusively
belonging to students from the upper floors.
There was one incident in particular that shook me. I was invited to a
birthday party on the ground floor. We all ate our hearts out that day, but
perhaps that did not go down well with the birthday boy, who casually said:
“Khaao bhangi saalon”. I didn’t know what the word “bhangi” meant at that
point of time since I am not a native Hindi speaker. I went back to the hostel
and asked my friend in the next room about what the word bhangi meant. He
said that it was a pejorative term used for “bathroom cleaners”.
That seriously affected me and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to com-
plain, but I was also fearful of any possible ostracization within the hostel or
students alleging that the incident never happened. I was numb for a few days
and didn’t know how to react to such a pejorative term bandied about so
casually. Moreover, there was an inherent classism, which often coincided with
casteism within students in hostels. Students on the upper floor were perceived
as poor since they mostly come from families availing reservations. They were
also perceived as those who may not speak English as well as others.
In the girls’ hostels, many from the reserved categories were ridiculed for
their fashion sense or for pronouncing a few words in English incorrectly. It
was humiliating to endure all this, albeit these incidents did not happen on a
daily basis. But they did occur quite often, affecting the psyche of the people
enduring it. It would lead to people doubting themselves, their ability to com-
pete with the rest and their ability to speak English as well just as others do.
Subsequently, two of my friends and I made a representation to the vice-
chancellor of our university in January 2013, explaining our plight and the
ghettoization. He was kind enough to understand our problems and was
shocked that such a system existed in the first place. He promised us that the
system of allotting rooms on the basis of marks would be done away with.
Keeping his promise, the next batch (which joined in June 2013) was allotted
rooms randomly.
Thankfully, we had an administration that acted immediately to end this
ordeal. But many still do not have this privilege. There are many institutions in
our country that have a system where rooms or roll numbers are allotted on the
basis of marks. And students casually pass casteist remarks and get away with
it because the university administration doesn’t provide any support to those
facing discrimination.
Today, when I talk about the casteism I had endured, some people show
support and acknowledge their privilege. On the other hand, some continue to
deny that the caste system exists in the first place and say that it is a thing of
the past, justifying it with statements like, “Look, I am friends with you, I have
been friends with you without knowing your caste, so there is no caste system,
it’s a thing of the past!”
It is very similar to saying, “Since, I have not seen a single soul dying of
hunger, there is no hunger in the world.” Another obnoxious statement I have
heard a lot of times is, “Your family owns a car, you are a middle-class person,
you cannot face any casteism.” But we must understand that caste and class are
absolutely different things: caste is a social concept, while class is an economic
concept.
Caste, as an institution, ensures its survival on notions of purity and exclu-
sion, something that doesn’t go away even if someone attains an upper-class
status. That taunt, “Tum log padhte kyun nahi ho?” stayed with me for a long
time; it motivated me to study harder. After graduating from the university, I
bagged a well-paying corporate job in Hyderabad. Soon enough, however, my
caste identity came into focus.
When I started to look for houses to rent near my workplace, I found a col-
league of mine, who was willing to reside with me. We had a double disability
while searching for houses because he was a Muslim and I was a Dalit. We
were denied housing in the cosmopolitan city of Hyderabad by at least six to
seven people who said things like, “We do not give our houses on rent to
Dalits” or “we do not like to give our houses on rent to Muslims.”
It was absolutely humiliating to be denied lodging just because of our social
identity. Clearly, our ability to pay rent on time did not matter. Finally, a kind
Dalit allowed us to rent his house. It is this continuous denial of the caste
system and prejudices against lower castes that result in the continuance of
oppression of many around us. Some of the oppressed willingly talk about it,
while others remain absolutely reluctant to talk about it and the possible
ramifications emanating from it. And others are scared to even reveal their
identity as Dalits because openly calling yourself a Dalit also means possible
stigmatization and humiliation.
The caste system is a monster that enables oppression, and we need to
counter this by first acknowledging that it is very much alive and that it will
thrive until we address the elephant in the room; until we stand up for the
oppressed and until we don’t think about maintaining the purity of our families
by marrying within the caste. The institution of endogamy, I believe, ensures
the survival of the caste system in a big way and that must be countered, too.
Irrespective of caste or religion, we are humans first. Ideally, it should be
humanity that must trump prejudices against lower-caste communities or
minorities. Yet we revel in creating divisions and ensuring its continuance
amongst us.
The narratives discussed above reflect the deep aspiration that Dalit stu-
dents possess to attain education despite the various socio-cultural road-
blocks they encounter. In the process, they are subjected to multiple forms
of discrimination – verbal, emotional, cultural and even physical, which
violates their dignity both at the individual and collective levels. Abuses
hurled at Dalits are seldom in the first person singular; it is always collec-
tive, ‘you people’ when it comes to the issue of ‘merit’, quota’s children,
discipline, culinary practices and lifestyles. This exemplifies symbolic group
humiliation.26 It is also representative in nature. Here, not all members of a
group are directly confronted or threatened with humiliating acts. Instead,
the symbol of the group is in some way defiled, which then constitutes a
humiliation for all members of this group and violates a sense of shared
dignity. This subtle humiliation affects the entire community and their col-
lective consciousness. It helps to degrade their humanity and further defile-
ment of their existence.
In the common parlance, private educational institutions are considered more
‘meritorious’ as they are not mandated to follow the government reservation
norms. However, the narratives reveal that even in these elite institutions, cas-
teplaining exists in subtle ways and ‘merit’ cannot shield a Dalit student from
questions on their ‘origins’. Any sympathy towards the social underdogs during
academic exchanges leads to enquiries on where their caste loyalties are located.
It is also heartening that the narratives also address issues of internal contra-
dictions within the community, the desire to do well in life and achieve their
dreams. Interestingly, the silent fear of the socially dominant groups is also
revealed, “who will till their fields if the Dalits get education?”
Notes
1 Sarkar Sumit, Writing Social History, OUP, Delhi, 1998, p. 1.
2 Trouillot Michel-Rolph, Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History,
Beacon Press, 1995, p. 19.
3 Rawat Ramnarayan and K. Satyanarayana, Dalit Studies, Permanent Black, 2017,
pp. 16–17.
4 Guru Gopal, “How Egalitarian Are the Social Sciences in India?”, Economic and
Political Weekly, December 14, 2002, p. 5006.
5 First Generation Students and Caste in Higher Education, Radio Sofia, Zoom Meet-
ing, September 20, 2020.
6 Jawaharlal Nehru on universities https://archivepmo.nic.in/drmanmohansingh/speech-
details.php?nodeid=217#:~:text=Speaking%20at%20the%20Allahabad%20University,
for%20the%20search%20for%20truth.&text=If%20the%20universities%20discharge%
Accessed 20 January 2020.
7 Guru Gopal, op. cit., p. 5007.
8 G. Haragopal’s comment in “Not Quite an End Note”, Tata Madhavi, Outlook, 1st
February 2016.
9 Luke Allan, “On This Writing: An Autotheoretic Account”, Nunan David & Choi
Julie, Eds., Culture and Identity in Language Learning and Use: A Microethno-
graphic Approach. London, Routledge, 2010, p. 137.
10 Canagarajah S., “TESOL at 40: What are the Issues?” (Teaching English to speakers
of other languages) TESOL Quarterly, 40, 2006, p. 28.
11 SLP (C) Diary No 14318/2018, Supreme Court of India, Record of Proceedings, Sec-
tion XI https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&
id=9567:the-republic-of-reservations&catid=119:feature&Itemid=132 Accessed 31
January 2019.
12 Wankhede Harish, “How Meritorious and Inclusive Are Our Institutions of Higher
Education?” The Wire, 19th December 2020 https://thewire.in/education/iit-iim-reserva
tion-appointment-merit-inclusivity Accessed 19 December 2020.
13 Goodson Ivor. F., Gill Scherto R. “The Narrative Turn in Social Research”, Coun-
terpoints 2011, Vol. 368, Narrative Pedagogy: Life History and Learning, 2011, p. 26.
14 Canagarajah S., “From Critical Research Practice to Critical Research Reporting”,
TESOL Quarterly, 30, 1996, p. 327.
15 Loseke Donileen R., “The Study of Identity as Cultural, Institutional, Organizational
and Personal Narratives: Theoretical and Empirical Integrations”. The Sociological
Quarterly, Fall, 2007, Vol. 48, No. 4, p. 663.
16 Quoted in Donileen R. Loseke, ibid., pp. 666–667.
17 For details, refer Daniyal Shoaib, “A call to ‘smash Brahmanical patriarchy’ is not
hate speech – it’s progressive, anti-caste politics”, https://scroll.in/article/902818/a-call-
to-smash-brahmanical-patriarchy-is-not-hate-speech-it-s-progressive-anti-caste-politics,
November 20, 2018. Accessed 15 December 2019.
18 Smith Jonathan A., Flowers Paul, Larkin Michael, Interpretative Phenomenological
Analysis: Theory, Method and Research, Sage Publications, 2009, pp. 53, 54.
19 Samosa is a common Indian snack stuffed with potatoes, onions etc.
20 Churidars, a traditional dress for females which covers the legs.
21 Both Ganesh Puja and Navratri are Hindu festivals.
22 Anonymous, “The Story of a Dalit Student Who Wants To Be Anonymous”, January
14, 2017, https://thecompanion.in/story-dalit-student-wants-anonymous/ Accessed 15
April 2020.
23 Anonymous, “‘I am Tam, But Not Brahm’: My Dalit Experience At BITS, Pilani,
July 4, 2019”, https://livewire.thewire.in/campus/i-am-tam-but-not-brahm-my-dalit-
experience-at-bits-pilani/ Accessed 15 April 2020.
24 Katheria Megha, “How I Battled Casteism At NALSAR, Hyderabad”, https://live
wire.thewire.in/campus/how-i-battled-casteism-at-nalsar-hyderabad/, June 27, 2019.
25 Maurya Tej Bendukuri, “NALSAR: How Hostels Used to be Segregated on the Basis
of CLAT Scores – and Caste”, https://livewire.thewire.in/campus/nalsar-caste-hostel-
segregation/, July 12, 2019.
26 For further details refer Neuhäuser Christian, “Humiliation: The Collective Dimen-
sion.” In Humiliation, Degradation, Dehumanization: Human Dignity Violated (Ed)
Kaufmann Paulus, Kuch Hannes et al., Springer, 2011, pp. 21–37.
5 “My Birth is My Fatal Accident”
Social Semantics of Dalit Students’ Suicides
The administration’s indifference to their plight and treating them as ‘routine’

issues are major problems for the students. It is important to understand the
relative difference in the criticality of an issue from the student’s perspective – a
‘minor problem’ from an administrative perspective may mean a loss of a seme-
ster or hostel accommodation, causing immense hardship to the student. 1
The graded inequality persisting in Indian society is based on unequal

assignment of economic, education and civic rights in a hierarchical manner
across castes. The uniqueness of this schema is that it involves narrowing
down in entitlement to economic and social rights, as we move from the top
of the caste hierarchy to the bottom. This also means that every caste suf-
fers from loss of some rights, except the Brahmin. But all castes (below the
Brahmin) do not suffer equally from loss of rights – some suffer more than
others. The untouchables, who are placed at the bottom of the caste hier-
archy, suffered the most as they do not have any rights except to serve the
four castes above them. The graded caste inequality was the masterstroke of
Brahmin imaginative scholarship, which took away the basic and essential
requirements necessary for the development of human beings. This denial of
the basic rights fundamental for the social growth of human beings com-
pletely crippled the former untouchables, from which unequal treatment they
could barely recover. This accumulated inequality is reflected in unequal access
over economic resources like land, water, common properties, employment etc.
and socio-cultural capital like education and intellectual resources. Ambedkar
comprehended that Hindu religious philosophy, both moral and legal, is used
as a means to justify the privileges and superior economic and social rights for
the higher castes, at the cost of denial of the same to the lower castes. It is in
this sense that caste discrimination serves as an instrument and social weapon
in the hands of the higher castes to hold on to traditional economic and social
privileges. It is precisely because of this functional utility of caste discrimination
that it continues to persist, despite laws against it. Most importantly, the use of
caste codes as a weapon of social ostracism helps to maintain the system more
effectively than any technique of modern laws.2
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-5
“My Birth Is My Fatal Accident” 147
In a contemporary context, while addressing students at the Jawaharlal
Nehru University, Thomas Piketty argued that the history of inequality cannot
be just “understood in economic terms”. The narrative of inequality, he
emphasized, should be located in our “political and social history”. Piketty
accentuated the importance of identities, culture and national in determining
the divide between the privileged and the underprivileged. “Economists say that
inequality is because of globalisation”, he said, “but that cannot be the only
explanation for it”. Piketty argued that emphasizing meritocracy and mobility
as a means of studying economic development stands in contradiction with the
situation on the ground. His argument holds good even in India, particularly in
the context of the deeply entrenched caste hierarchy and the rampant culture of
discrimination it spawns.3 The deeply embedded meritocratic culture has a flip
side too. In what is known as the ‘deaths of despair’, Anne Case and Angus
Deaton, while studying working-class Americans, between 2014 and 2017
observed that, life expectancy in the United States decreased for three straight
years. These self-inflicted deaths were caused by drug overdose, alcohol abuse
and suicides. The desolation was not caused due to material deprivation solely
but was a response to the plight of people struggling to make their way in a
meritocratic society without the credentials and honours.4
The social anomie conceptualized by Durkheim is a useful tool to understand
the underlying socio-economic and cultural dynamics of death by suicide. Dur-
kheim’s book Suicide was published in 1897, and because it relied on statistics,
it is generally considered to be the original modern sociological monograph.
Durkheim identified four kinds of suicide, and his language is still in use today.
He divided suicides into egoistic, altruistic, anomic and fatalistic. Egoistic sui-
cide occurs in a person who lacks a sense of belonging to the community and
who becomes overcome by feelings of meaninglessness, apathy and depression.
Altruistic suicide is the opposite: the victim is so profoundly enmeshed in the
ideals of the group that upholding these ideals becomes more important than
life itself. Anomic suicide is characterized by an individual’s moral confusion,
uncertainty and lack of direction; usually related to dramatic social and eco-
nomic upheaval. Fatalist suicide is the opposite of anomic: it is a response to
being chronically oppressed so that one’s own desires are endlessly thwarted.5
These terms gave sociologists a classification framework that has lasted more
than a century. They are of use to clinicians but also to people who are suffer-
ing and experiencing isolation and can recognize themselves in Durkheim’s
descriptions. This is especially true today, when our understanding of depres-
sion tends to be divided between biological and familial explanations, it is
useful to be made aware of broader sociological explanations as well. Dur-
kheim’s key message was that in most of the modern Western world, people
feel cut-off from their communities and uncertain about how they fit into the
world. Suicide in the West was, for Durkheim, a crisis caused by insufficient
social integration. He wrote that suicide was the most obvious symptom of a
widespread need for more feelings of human connection. Too much individu-
alism was not a character flaw, it was a social problem. Durkheim was
148 “My Birth Is My Fatal Accident”
doubtful that religion or science could provide a cure. Instead, he hoped that
some new form of community connection would arise. He proposed that it
might be some kind of “corporation”, using the word in a noneconomic sense.
He hoped his imagined corporations or something like them would replace the
collective force that functioned in society before modern life. For Durkheim, the
lack of this collective force was precisely what was causing modern suicide.
“First of all”, he wrote, “it can be said that, as collective force is one of the
obstacles best calculated to restrain suicide, its weakening involves the devel-
opment of suicide”. With a strongly integrated society, individuals feel deeply
connected to something larger than themselves, something that “forbids them to
dispose wilfully of themselves”. People feel they have to stay alive and fill their
roles. Even depression, for Durkheim, was best described in terms of its
sociology and the alienation of the individual from society: of “melancholy
suicide”, he wrote, “This is connected with a general state of extreme depres-
sion and exaggerated sadness, causing the patient no longer to realize sanely the
bonds which connect him with people and things about him”. Present-day
investigations of suicide also focus both on the state of extreme depression and
the disconnection of the victim from the rest of the society, but they do not
ascribe the former so strictly to the latter. (Today, depression is usually dis-
cussed less as a function of society than as biological and/or based in a difficult
childhood or a traumatic experience.)6
As argued by P. H. Collins, there are multiple factors like race, class and
gender, which interlock and generate various categories. They are also the
foundation of “differences in our personal biographies”. These social factors
not only impact individually but also in conjunction with the other variables. It
is thus very important to consider these variables. She asserts that we need to
conceptualize race, class and gender in order to understand them all as inter-
connecting and contributing factors to the construction of a person’s selfhood.
She writes particularly of their effects on oppression. She separates this
oppression into three discrete categories: the institutional dimension of oppres-
sion, the symbolic dimension of oppression, and the individual dimension of
oppression. Her “theory of intersectionality” is relevant to the study of youth
suicides because oppressive, external forces can either drive a person to self-
destruction or draw them away from it.7
Debating with Death: Dalit-Bahujan Students’ Suicides

India reported about 381 suicides daily for the year of 2019, marking an
increase of nearly 3.4% suicide deaths as compared to 2018, a report by the
National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) said. 1,39,123 suicides were reported
in the year 2019, as compared to 2018, which saw 1,34,516 suicides and 2017,
which recorded 1,29,887 fatalities. Notably, in 2019, out of the 1,39,123 sui-
cides, 92,757 – which amounts to about 66.7% – were people who were mar-
ried. The “Accidental Deaths and Suicide in India 2019” report also mentioned
that suicide rates in cities were about 3.4% higher than the all-India suicide
rate, which stands at 10.4%. However, it is important to mention that 66.2% of
the fatalities were from families with an annual income of less than 1 lakh.
When it comes to the male and female ratio, for every 100 suicide deaths, 70.2
were male and 29.8 were females, the NCRB data reported.8
In fact, there are more than 75,000 students that have taken their lives in the
period between 2007 and 2016. India has the highest suicide rate, with over
38,000 students committing suicide since 2015, that’s about six students com-
mitting suicide every day due to academic pressures. “Marginalised youth in
institutions of higher education go through a lot of struggle to perform as
compared to non-marginalised youth. In addition, they are constantly humi-
liated by the ‘others’ – colleagues, teachers, etc., all those who swear by ‘mer-
itocracy’”. The country witnessed 23 Dalit students commit suicides between
2008 and 2016, all due to caste-based discrimination.9 Most lower-income
communities come from historically oppressed groups and can barely afford to
check on their mental wellbeing. Therefore, they don’t have the affective agency
and resources to mitigate resultant health adversities. It is extremely rare to find
an articulation of lived experience in any therapist’s approach. The everyday
connections that caste has to mental health issues can be witnessed with only a
cursory understanding of caste-based barriers.10
The Times of India report on suicides of students in educational institutions
was taken seriously in Andhra Pradesh and the then acting Chief Justice N. V.
Ramana of the AP High Court took suo motu cognizance (when a government
agency acts on its own cognizance) of the report – as a result of which notices
were issued to the state and universities. The institutions had to appraise the
Table 5.1 States with 1,000+ Students’ Suicides (2016–2018)

STATES 2016 2017 2018 3-Year TOTAL
Maharashtra 1,350 1,437 1448 4,235
Tamil Nadu 981 810 953 2,744
Madhya Pradesh 843 953 862 2,658
West Bengal 1,147 779 609 2,535
Karnataka 540 702 755 1,997
Gujarat 556 638 570 1,764
Chhattisgarh 633 524 603 1,760
Telangana 349 504 428 1,281
Odisha 390 361 501 1,252
Uttar Pradesh 263 436 513 1,212
Kerala 340 410 375 1,125
Andhra Pradesh 295 392 360 1,047
All India 9,478 9,905 10,159 29,542
Source: The Indian Express, 4th March, 202011
court about the steps taken for suicide prevention. The TOI report was con-
verted into public interest litigation. At that time, a group of 29 academicians,
in a petition to the court, identified failure, fear of failure, administrative
indifference, hostile regulations, insults, social and academic stigmatization and
rejection as some of the reasons for suicide by students from marginalized
groups.12 There is a notion that our educational institutions are caste-neutral.
However, if we care to delve deeper, casteism comes across as an attitude pro-
blem, either from department heads or from authorities who represent these
institutions. Usually, the determinants of caste, religion or region are read
through language, lack of, or command over English, submissiveness, articula-
tion, regional or urban nature, mode of dress, complexion etc. While most
students overlook the bigotry of individuals, others are driven to the edge in the
face of systemic ridicule. In only the last decade, ten suicide cases have come to
light from Hyderabad Central University alone.13
Death by A Thousand Cuts

‘Evvaroo ee biddalu? Ningi lo nelavankalu. Evvaroo ee pillalu? Adivi malle puv-
vulu’. (Who are these children? Like the crescent moons of the sky. Who are these
children? Like jasmines of the wild)14
In the Indian context, despite the increasing number of suicides by students

from the marginalized groups, policy-makers have seldom taken these issues
seriously. A psychosocial study of the interlinkages between caste and suicidal
behaviour is a rarity in Indian academia. The students have to negotiate a tough
path strewn with parental ambitions, demands of classes and grades and peer
group competition, which begins at the school level and continues in the insti-
tutions of higher learning. Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalayas (JNVs), the central
government’s pace-setting residential schools for talented rural children, have
had close to 50 suicides on campus in just five years. Of the 49 suicides wit-
nessed from 2013 to 2017, half were by Dalit and tribal students, and a majority
were boys.15 Shyam Menon, the former vice-chancellor of Ambedkar Uni-
versity, Delhi points out that there is a dramatic increase of students contesting
for higher education in India. This has increased the competition to a great
extent. Establishing linkages between employability and higher education,
Menon argued that higher education has become a critical factor in social
mobility. The high aspirations of the Indian middle-class have contributed to
changes in the education system. These aspirations create stress to perform or
perish.16
Unfortunately, there are a lack of institutional mechanisms to address the
concerns of students, especially the first-generation learners from SC/ST/OBC
backgrounds who lack the social and cultural capital to find their feet in the
modern agraharas. In an interesting study of African American students and
their acculturation in predominantly White or Black educational institutions,
the researchers recognized the impact that other factors such as the availability
of social support and perception of social support have on stressors. Indivi-
duals who have a supportive network are believed to be buffered from the
negative impact of chronic stressors because this buffering agent changes
how individuals judge stressful events and chronic stressors. Elevated levels
of stress, without the provision of support from family and peers, have been
shown to be positively correlated with suicidal ideation in the general
population and the African American community as well. Usually, African
American students have to adjust more and create their own social and
cultural networks within the larger college community in order to cope with
isolation. To ward off feelings of isolation, depression and loneliness, Black
students at predominantly White institutions often develop support systems
such as Black student unions, sororities and fraternities. By contrast, African
American students attending predominantly Black institutions tend to report
a greater sense of happiness because of elements inherent to these institu-
tions such as more Black students, faculty and staff.17
Additionally, the study found that both predominantly Black and pre-
dominantly White colleges, African American students with supportive
families were less likely to experience depression and suicidal ideation.18
Similarly, a few of the respondents of the present study also narrated as to
how their family background, better language skills and financial stability
helped them to adjust better in the university spaces compared to the first-
generation Dalit students. The majority of the girl respondents could claim
more cultural and educational capital compared to the boys. The former
belonged to semi-urban to urban backgrounds, whereas the latter hailed
from rural or mofussil areas.
However, the majority of the respondents of the present study and scores of
others are bereft of any coping mechanisms at the familial or institutional
levels. Often, the families are the last to know about what ails their children in
the modern gurukuls and by then, it is too late for them to intervene in a con-
structive manner. With Anil Kumar Meena, Bal Mukund Bharti, Senthil
Kumar, Rohith Vemula, Muthukrishnan, Payal Tadvi and many others, their
families only received their dead bodies; in the case of Rohith Vemula, the state
police burnt the body without handing it over to the family members, a morally
reprehensible act. The institutions simply washed away such incidents by
blaming them on depression and personal problems. HCU, EFLU, IITs, AIIMS
have a long record of student suicides, but no effective preventive strategies
have been devised.
After Senthil Kumar, two other Dalit students had killed themselves in the
HCU campus. Pulayala Raju from MA Applied Linguistics and Madari Ven-
katesh from Advanced Centre for Research in High Energy. He was a CSIR-
JRF holder but was not allotted a supervisor for three years. The reports of the
committees that were constituted by Prof Vinod Pavurala (2008) and Prof V.
Krishna (2013) as chairs to probe these deaths were hardly circulated by the
administration; they were not released to the public immediately. The recom-
mendations were never taken seriously and were not implemented in letter and
19
spirit. The Hyderabad University administration also violated the order of the
AP High Court PIL 106/2013. The Hon’ble High Court made it mandatory, for
all the universities in Andhra Pradesh, to implement the guidelines issued by
Prof Faizan Mustafa’s Committee Report to ease academic stress.20
Hence, it is self-evident that institutions wilfully neglected the recom-
mendations of various committees set up to investigate caste-based dis-
crimination on campus and continued to turn a blind eye to flagrant
violation of constitutional provisions. Subsequent to the institutional murder
of Rohith Vemula in January 2016, a fracas occurred at the Jawaharlal
Nehru University in which students allegedly raised political slogans during
a public meeting. Needless to say, this narrative was constructed by the spin
doctors of the ruling party to score political gains in a Left-dominated
campus. Politically active students were charged under draconian laws.
Amidst the entire clamor and the baying of blood, Apoorvanand wrote a
poignant article, “Umar Khalid, My Son”,21 wherein he sought to locate
Khalid’s rebellion as an act of courage to transcend the boundaries that
others fear to transgress. Khalid’s research supervisor penned a note on his
scholarly pursuits and his commitment to academics.22 The attempt to strike
a discordant note in the midst of a cacophonous debate on the sins of
omission and commission of the JNU students makes one wonder about the
adequacy of the support system when Rohith and his friends were in exile in
the Velivada. As Shiv Visvanathan queried,
I was wondering why no faculty member got up to defend you, why no

one took you home. I wonder why no one told your mother that you
had no hostel but lived in a tent outside the university. I want to begin
with this everyday sense of neglect because those who capture you for
the headlines are taxidermists of the moment; they freeze a life into a
second and forget that sense of being that made you what you were: A
man who cared, a man who protested, who believed that protest and
research went together, that being from a backward class meant being
more than backward.23
Caste and Social Anomie on Campus

From 2006 onwards, the state began to implement quotas in education as part
of the Mandal Commission Recommendations, which led to intense agitations
in campuses. An organization, Youth for Equality was formed with students of
UCMS, AIIMS, LHMC (Lady Hardinge Medical College), VMMC (Vardhman
Mahavir Medical College) and MAMC (Maulana Azad Medical College) as its
founding members,24 as an antidote to the government’s proposal. Gradually,
students from IITs and IIMs and other professional courses in various uni-
versities also joined the protests. The stage was set for more acrimonious rela-
tions on campuses among students in terms of social location and political
ideologies. Not only students, such cleavages appeared amongst faculties25 and
the administration also. Such social fissures are evident in the case narratives. A
medical student at AIIMS recollects that as a son of a doctor based in Luck-
now, he thought that caste prejudices are remnants of the past. Such abuses
happened to his grandfather and people of that generation. His father never
discussed anything on Dalit oppression and he raised his son to become a
doctor in the service of the country. Mahinder was shocked when anti-reserva-
tionists barged into his room and asked him to take sides. The quota students
were taunted, “Give me ten reasons why you need reservation, why you don’t
deserve to be at AIIMS”. Those that didn’t cooperate were beaten or locked in
their rooms; one reserved-category student’s door was defaced with graffiti that
said, “Fuck off from this wing – bastard leave this wing”. Mahinder pointed
out, “I became a Dalit when I came here and it is strange. All of a sudden I was
someone with an identity I had never thought of”.26
The agitation left the faculty and administration deeply polarized. The doc-
tors began to divide along caste lines, and the students naturally followed suit.
Lower-caste students reported that the divisions ran so deep that even sports
were split along caste lines: basketball was for the upper castes, volleyball for
the lower. The lower-caste students moved en masse to the upper floors of two
adjacent hostels, segregating themselves in solidarity against perceived harass-
ment. “We started feeling safe”, Mahinder said. “And slowly our relationships
with general category students started getting better”.27 However, the fault lines
remained as students continued to report discrimination on caste lines by the
faculties, as pointed out in the Thorat Committee Report.
On 3 March, 2010, Balmukund Bharti a medical student at AIIMS hanged
himself in his hostel room. The usual theories were offered; he was depressed
and unable to cope with studies. A son of a Class III employee, a native of
village Kundeshwar, Tikamgarh district, Bundelkhand (Madhya Pradesh), one
of the most backward regions of the country, Balmukund was also a school
topper from Navodaya Vidyalaya and possessed many certificates of academic
excellence, including one from the President of India, before getting admission
into AIIMS after proving his merit in its entrance exam.28 Two years later, on
5th March 2012, in an eerily similar incident, a first year student Anil Kumar
Meena hanged himself in his hostel room. His close friend, Rajendra shared the
struggles that they had to undergo to prove their ‘merit’. “We were toppers in
Hindi, now we are failures”.29 They tried to cope with English, using diction-
aries to understand textbooks, taking the help of seniors from similar back-
grounds, meticulously translating the study material.
But shortly before the test, in June 2011, Anil was told he wouldn’t be
allowed to sit for the exams because his class attendance was below 50%. This
was an unpleasant surprise: the rule was not a new one, but it had rarely, if
ever, been enforced before. In August, he appeared for the supplementary
examinations instead, but to his surprise failed in all three subjects. Since then,
he had been trying to meet with senior faculty members to request that his
papers be re-evaluated; he believed that a last-minute change in the assessment
process had prevented him from passing in at least one subject, but nobody
seemed willing to listen. For two days, Anil was not seen by fellow students;
calls to his phone went unanswered. With the help of the hostel security,
Rajendra broke the window of his room only to find his body hanging from the
ceiling fan. Later, while recollecting the entire incident, Rajendra recalled that
when he visited Anil’s room a few days prior to the incident, he found “the
sheets were rolled up like a rope”, “I asked him, why are your sheets like this,
and he said he had to wash them”.30
Reflecting on Anil’s suicide, Mahinder argued that Anil was “pushed to
commit suicide”.31 He was asked by the student union to stop speaking to the
media. Needless to mention, the administration ducked any queries on caste-
based discrimination. The records appeared to show that the administration
had changed the rules for evaluating the supplementary examination one day
before the results were announced. Previously, students appearing for the sup-
plementary examination after failing the initial attempt, were assigned 25% of
their score from internal assessments conducted by professors, and 75% from
the results of the written examination. Because Anil and several other students
had been barred from sitting the first examination, it was decided that their
scores would be weighted equally between the internal and the exam, which
seemed to have made the difference between passing and failing for Anil in at
least one subject. “He could have passed in anatomy and physiology”, Mahin-
der told me. “Both are difficult subjects, some students take years to clear these
two exams. This certainly would have boosted his confidence, and he might not
have taken such an extreme step”.
The subtle casteplaining is evident when the Dean, Rani Kumar observed, “I
belong to a Khatri Caste. Our forefathers used to be warriors”, with just a hint
of pride, in her spacious office at AIIMS. “But I never believed in such things. It
is here I learnt that there is something called caste”. Personally, she is opposed
to the reservation policy but was aware of Anil’s problems. She said Anil had
come to see her “at least ten times”, desperate to have his papers re-evaluated
and to reverse his failure. “He told me that he had tried four times to meet the
director, but the director refused to meet him. I told him, ‘My dear, I can’t do
anything, the director doesn’t even meet me”. The blame game ensures that no
remedial actions will be taken. Ironically, she commented that “I have always
supported weak students, they come here and my doors are always open”. For
students from poor, rural and lower-caste backgrounds, “we should give them a
few more chances to do well”. If she was so concerned about Anil Kumar’s
academic problems, why did he have to meet her ten times and without any
resolution. This is by her own admission, which proves that it’s a case of
shedding crocodile tears when Anil is no longer around to defend his case.32
The underlying assumption is that the students from marginalized back-
grounds will never do well and require multiple chances to prove their ‘merit’.
Such entrenched prejudices ensure that no matter how hardworking or brilliant
such a student is, they are perceived through a chauvinistic gaze. It should be
borne in mind that these students compete at the national level to gain admis-
sion in these government recognized ‘institutions with eminence’.
Back home, Anil’s family tried to come to terms with what happened to their
‘meritorious’ child who went to study in India’s top medical school. He scored
85% marks in the higher secondary exams and topped the Rajasthan state
medical entrance in the ST category. His ultimate dream was to secure admis-
sion in AIIMS as he believed that “the Indian government spends six crore
rupees on each of its students. Its doctors are world-famous and its teachers are
excellent”.33 His village largely survives on wheat farming and unskilled manual
labour: in its history, only five people have completed their undergraduate
degrees; the rest have either dropped out of school, or never read a word. When
Anil cracked the examination for AIIMS, the village celebrated for an entire
week. They gathered money, bought plenty of food and sweets, and invited
people from nearby villages for pujas and feasts. Journalists from national dai-
lies like The Times of India arrived in the village to interview Anil, and a local
newspaper carried a story with the headline “Gaon Key Laal Ney Kiya Kamaal”
(A Son of the Village Did Well).34 During the farming season, Anil’s father
would earn around Rs. 1,700 per month but he borrowed Rs. 65,000 from
relatives to pay for his son’s medical coaching at Kota. He hoped that once Anil
succeeded in his career, he could pay off the debt. His father’s abiding memory
is of his son sitting and studying under the only electric bulb in the house. As
Anil’s neighbour reminisced, “We felt like someone finally lit the candle in this
village. His success became an example and our children took their studies
seriously”.35
The socially dominant gatekeepers of Indian academia have always strived to
guard their boundaries against any encroachment by the “quota’s children”.
The common strategy of failing, attendance issues, denial of marks or fellow-
ship are the weapons used against the latter, which are replicated in many
‘prestigious institutions’ with unfailing regularity. From the rustication of ten
Dalit students, Senthil Kumar to Rohith Vemula’s cases, Hyderabad Central
University has the dubious distinction of thirteen student suicides in almost a
decade and a half.
Senthil Kumar was the first to enter higher education, not only from his
family, but the entire Panniandi36 community. His parents survived by rearing
pigs in Salem district of Tamil Nadu. He had finished an MPhil in Physics from
Pondicherry University before financial constraints forced him to interrupt his
education. He enrolled with the School of Physics at the University of Hyder-
abad in 2007. This arduous journey into higher education could only have been
made by a person of exceptional ability and determination. Senthil was the only
student from the batch of 2007 who was yet to be assigned a supervisor. He
failed in one of the four papers required in coursework and in the first supple-
mentary exam. He had the provision of writing another exam in March and
clearing his backlog. The non-NET fellowship (awarded to students at the
University of Hyderabad) was his only source of survival as a student. It was
also an important means of supporting the family. As the Joint Action Com-
mittee also pointed out in their letter, according to new university guidelines,
the fellowships for PhD students are not linked to ‘performance’ in coursework.
However, the School of Physics acted in contravention to this and Senthil’s
fellowship was stopped, his name put up on the noticeboard, citing his failure
in coursework as the reason. The rule connecting fellowship with ‘performance’
in coursework clearly has a punitive judgment. In this logic, the fellowship
becomes a tool of punishment in the hands of the authorities against students,
rather than a means to support their education. It is well known that the
demands of higher education make the fellowship absolutely crucial for Dalit
students, and withholding it amounts to wilfully denying them a place in the
university, in the first instance. As Senthil’s case shows, the denial of the fel-
lowship can have even more serious consequences. After protests by Dalit stu-
dents, a Deans’ committee meeting was held and this rule was changed, a week
before Senthil’s death. Incredibly enough, the decision was not communicated
to Senthil or announced, unlike the very public withdrawal of the fellowship.
The report records that the loss of the fellowship was a source of intense
anxiety for Senthil in the period leading up to his suicide; it was undoubtedly
one of the reasons that drove him to it.37
The fact that his body was not discovered for two days bears tragic testi-
mony to Senthil’s extreme isolation from his neighbours and hostel mates, his
classmates/lab mates and colleagues, and from campus life in general. This was
further confirmed at the public meeting called by the Ambedkar Students
Association to protest his death. The eminent lawyer Bojja Tharakam and well-
known human rights activist Balagopal attended the meeting, along with a few
Dalit teachers. Conspicuous by their absence were the ‘liberal’ and ‘progressive’
faculty, the ‘general category’ students, and of course, the authorities. These
absences reflect the deep-rooted prejudices which have segregated campus life
and soured social relations. For the larger student community, Senthil was
never really a fellow student; his problems were his alone, not meant to be
shared or addressed. For his teachers, Senthil was a much-resented constitu-
tional imposition, lacking merit and destined to fail, a problem case. In death as
in life, Senthil Kumar remained ‘only’ a Dalit.38
The Biometrics of Belonging

39
I looked at the case as the death of a child and not as a death of a Dalit.
The deliberate infantilizing of a politically vigorous life reflects the unease the state
and its handmaidens demonstrated in Rohith’s case. On 17th January 2016, Rohith
Vemula, a research scholar at Hyderabad Central University hanged himself in his
friend’s hostel room. He left behind a note, a searing indictment of a social hier-
archy wherein people are reduced to mere numbers and noting that his birth is a
fatal accident. An ideological tussle between two student groups, the Akhil Bhar-
atiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP) and the Ambedkar Students’ Association (ASA)
was allowed to fester: the situation precipitated because of interventions by the
BJP and the then Ministry of Human Resource Development (MHRD). Subse-
quently, five Dalit students were suspended and the university administration
kowtowed before the powers that be. A telling photograph, dated 4th January
2016, captures the angst of the suspended students of the University of Hyderabad.
Rohith and his friends are walking out of the hostel, clutching their meagre pos-
sessions, a mattress, some books and a huge portrait of Ambedkar, clearly
demonstrating their source of strength and confidence to fight oppressive social
structures. The message was loud and clear. It was a call to arms to all Ambed-
karites to rebel and rally against an undemocratic university administration. These
students were not going to simply fade away into the sunset but fight back against
the perceived injustice meted out to them.40
Rohith and his friends were fighting a lonely battle against a Brahmanical
university system and its ideological network. These students were the first to
be educated people in their families and they realized only too well that a life
bereft of education was doomed. Ironically, away from their villages, they were
forced to live in a Velivada (in rural areas, this term is the space kept for people
who have been excommunicated: forced to stay in a kind of exile, they are
denied any kind of social, political and economic contacts). It is precisely to
escape the rigours of such caste-based oppression in villages that these students
and their families laboured hard to aspire to a dignified existence. For them,
education was the sole instrument which would emancipate them by challen-
ging entrenched prejudices.41 A public university can ostracize its Dalit students
and its actions went unchallenged both by civil society and constitutional
authorities.
Rohith Vemula’s life trajectory belied the victimhood expected in tradi-
tional stories revolving around Dalits. He was a bright student who excelled
in academics.42 He joined UoH without claiming any quotas, registered for a
master’s in Science and later for a PhD in the Life Sciences. However,
according to his friends, he opted for the Social Sciences as he did not wish to
work in a laboratory the entire day. He was attracted to the SFI (Students’
Federation of India) but realized that they did not take the issue of caste ser-
iously. Eventually, he joined the ASA and took an active part in its activities
on campus and gradually became a committed Ambedkarite. His Facebook
posts also reflected the shifts in his ideology and his concern towards issues of
social justice. At the back of his mind, was a constant reminder of the strug-
gles of his family and the major share of his fellowship money would be sent
to his mother. What Rohith felt for his home and family was evident from the
photographs he posted of his house on social media. In one of them, titled
‘sewing machine’, he wrote, “This was the main bread-earner for our home
before I started getting JRF … This is my mom’s favourite occupation … she
used to say ‘machine’ can make women powerful …” For a photograph of a
uniform hung on a clothesline, he wrote, “Dad’s uniform, security guard in a
hospital …”43
In mid-2015, the ASA was part of a protest against capital punishment in the
context of Yakub Memon who was convicted in the Bombay blasts of 1993. On
1st August 2015, the ASA protested against the violence in a Delhi University
college by the ABVP during a documentary screening. The battle lines were
drawn against two opposing ideologies. The latter used a convenient label to
dub the ASA as anti-national. As the family of the ABVP leader held various
positions in the parent organization, the BJP, he used his political network to
urge for punitive action against the ASA.44 The involvement of political leaders
further vitiated the atmosphere in UoH and a campus scuffle took a disastrous
turn. Under pressure from the ruling elite, the university administration sus-
pended five students of the ASA including Rohith, which effectively cut-off their
source of sustenance. In their wisdom, the administration went all out to sani-
tize their campus from the unholy influence of the ASA, resorting to a social
boycott and ghettoization of the students.
For the rest of their time at the university, the suspended ASA students were
to be barred from the hostels and the administration building, as well as from
“other common places in groups”. They were also banned from contesting
elections. “They are permitted to be seen only in the respective schools/depart-
ments/centres, library and academic seminars/conferences/workshops”, the
order said. To the students, this was a humiliating punishment, almost a
recreation of the power structure in their villages, which consigned Dalits to
specific ghettos to enforce what sociologists describe as ‘social death’. “This
decision of suspension was arrived by the Executive Council, the highest apex
body of the University without conducting any enquiry”, the ASA posted on its
Facebook page. “Isn’t this similar to a dominant-caste ostracising a Dalit-
household from the village; here, five senior research scholars who happen to be
from Dalit background are outcast from the day-to-day activities of the uni-
versity space”. The decision was announced on 16 December, following which,
the chief warden placed additional locks on the latches of the doors of the five
students’ hostel rooms.45
Then onwards, the situation nose-dived. Many students went home for
the winter break. The five rusticated students suffered not only the vagaries
of the weather but also a sense of isolation and apathy. They could not
reach out to their families as the latter were too impoverished to provide
any succour, as they were clueless about the campus atmosphere. In the
meantime, the dominant caste student groups were galvanizing the support
of their political masters, which vitiated the atmosphere in the campus. It
was a very suffocating atmosphere for the rusticated ASA students who were
rendered helpless both by civil society and the university administration.
This preyed on Rohith’s mind and after penning a poignant note, he hanged
himself in his senior’s hostel room with the blue banner of the ASA. The
police cremated his body without handing it over to his family to minimize
any potential outrage.
Rohith was vociferous about his radical ideas, his engagement with Marx,
Ambedkar, Jyotiba and Savitribai Phule, his unequivocal endorsement of gender
issues, the political act of choosing a matriarchal identity and striving for an
alternate Ambedkarite ideology in a campus dominated by the left- and right-
wing groups. Such a bright spark was sought to be infantilized and shorn of his
chosen identity by the representatives of the state.
‘A Man Reduced to His Immediate Number’ 46
As is the wont, all hell broke loose and politicians, activists and intellectuals;
everyone made a beeline for the campus. When the ASA was beseeching support
from civil society, no one turned up but post-Rohith’s institutional murder,
casteism in academic spaces became a highly debated issue. The state appointed
commissions of enquiry to apportion the blame as widespread protests rocked
the country. Interestingly, one line of enquiry was directed towards his
immediate family to ascertain if Rohith was a bona fide Dalit as his mother had
gone for an intercaste marriage and his father was not a Dalit. This reflected
the patriarchal ideology embedded in our political discourse. His mother
underwent public humiliation as her personal life was put under the scanner.
Rohith had adopted his mother’s Dalit identity, an act of fictive kinship. If
Rohith was established as not being a Dalit, then the punishment for abetment
of suicide would be mild when compared to the fact that he was indeed a Dalit.
The stringent provisions of the Prevention of Atrocities Act 1989 would apply
to the perpetrators both within and outside the campus. This is the reason that
when SC/ST students commit suicide, the reason is always given as personal,
due to love affairs or suffering from depression etc. This casts away the taint of
blood from the dominant caste teachers, administrators or peer group who
would be accused of this heinous crime. Even after five years of Rohith’s insti-
tutional murder, no one has been held accountable – neither the university
authorities nor the political leaders who bayed for blood. Any public mourning
of Rohith or other SC/ST students who face a similar fate is heavily suppressed.
Rigorous action is imposed on such gatherings, detentions, suspension from
campus, police brutalities, which implies that the public sphere is out-of-bounds
for the Dalit-Bahujans.
Institutional Ennui
Post Rohith Vemula, discrimination in academia began to be debated. But
mindscapes nurtured in anti-reservation ideas cannot be dismantled easily and
subtle casteplaining is embedded in our institutions. On March 13th, 2017,
Muthukrishnan, a Dalit research scholar from JNU hanged himself in a friend’s
house outside the campus. A few days before, he had written a Facebook post
“… There is no Equality in M.phil/phd Admission, there is no equality in Viva-
voce, there is only denial of equality, denying Prof. Sukhadeo Thorat recom-
mendation, denying Students protest places in Ad-block, denying the education
of the Marginals. When Equality is denied everything is denied”.47
Muthukrishnan, or Rajni Krish as he was fondly called, made it to JNU on
his fourth attempt. He was quite determined to study in JNU and polished his
research proposal 38 times. In his own words, he details his journey to JNU.
This is my 4th year visit to JNU.

Three times I wrote JNU - M.A Entrance
2 Times I wrote JNU M.phil/PhD Entrance
2 Times I attend the interview…
You know what….
First two times I did not learnt English properly
But I tried because I just don’t want to give up..
Every year to visit JNU I worked many menial jobs
Saved the money like ant… and begged people to get money..
I never eat in train.
first two time I visited from Tamilnadu
And next two visit from HCU
Every year people used to wish me ‘this year you will get it’.
I tried too, because
I just do not want to give up, and I always think,
Hard work never fails..
Every year I used to sit under Nehru statue, and I used to ask Nehru..
Please Nehru Ji, we all from our family voting for congress..
Why you don’t want to educate me?
And last interview, after 11 minutes
one madam told me I am speaking ‘simple language’
This year in the interview 8 minutes I spoke, I answered all the question…
Three professors told me that ‘You spoke Well’
Now I realized that
I am the only one from Government arts college
Came to study in central university
and I am the only one from salem district
Got selected in JNU
I am the only one from HCU got selected in Modern Indian history
Thank you so much my supervisor B Eswar Bonela, He really found
research
Scholar inside me, He encouraged me to write my own proposal Which I
wrote 38 times
there is lot of people to thank
For this historical moment,,, that is why I am going to write a Book
‘A JUNKET TO JNU’
Thank you so much to Praveen Donthi , this is my first picture in JNU…
+MAGILCHI…… 48
Unfortunately, he encountered a systematic obstacle against his dreams – he

had difficulty in getting a research supervisor, language issues, lack of con-
fidence – but he struggled to fulfil his academic requirements.
We discussed his proposal before his interview. He wanted to locate the

largely invisibilized question of caste in the demographic changes brought
about by late-colonial policies. He was ecstatic to get through. He was a
first generation learner and the only one from his village who made it this
far. He was evidently excited about his research. But what was bothering
him? What were those constraints? Why is a first generation learner from a
Dalit background forced to commit suicide in a university space? Why are
our university spaces are not being able to provide that support and envir-
onment where he could sustain his life and studies?49
It was during this time that the campus was protesting against the UGC
Circular of May 2016 that changed admission norms for MPhil and PhD stu-
dents. The new policy, which makes performance in viva-voce, the deciding
factor, is widely seen as discriminatory, especially against reserved-category
applicants – Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes and Other Backward Classes.50
Such measures would queer the pitch for students from the marginalized
groups.
Muthukrishnan did not leave a suicide note but his Facebook posts and
observations from friends make it possible to piece together his story. Vikas
Moola, a close friend of Muthukrishnan, recounted some of his conversations.
He told me that at CHS he faced a lot of discrimination. His department

was infamous for marking Dalit students a painfully low grade. He wanted
his supervisor to be changed to another supervisor. But the other supervisor
already had a lot of students under him and said he couldn’t take him.
When he went back to his previous supervisor, he got embroiled in the
politics of it all.
Muthukrishnan wore his Dalit identity on his sleeve and paid a price for it,
said Moola. “It’s different when they greet Dalit students and the way they
greet other students”, Moola said. Muthukrishnan would often be ignored by
the people he knew from protests, Moola said, as even his smile of greeting
would not be acknowledged.51 The usual circus commenced after his institu-
tional murder; reports emerged that he was ‘depressed’, there were rumours of
complaints against him that he was stalking a classmate, which were never
substantiated. It was also insinuated that he was into drugs. All these whisper-
ings were to hush up the fact that in one of the most ‘progressive’ left-liberal
institutions, first-generation learners like Rajni Krish do not have a chance to
study.
The Cultural Autopsies of ‘Merit’

“When you enter (college), the first thing they ask is your NEET (National
Eligibility cum Entrance Test) ranking”, says Tushar Pawar, a first-year MBBS
student at the Lokmanya Tilak Municipal Medical College in Mumbai. “From
that, they can deduce who has come from the reserved quota. Once they find
out, they become extremely resentful. They don’t know, or care to know, that
our parents are farmers or labourers. They don’t see how difficult it was for us,
first-generation learners, to get in”, he adds. Another student from the same
college, V. D., showed me a meme shared by a fellow student. The meme,
comparing the seat tally of the Bharatiya Janata Party (303) and the Congress
(52) in the recent general election, likened the numbers to the marks needed by
a student from the general and reserved categories, respectively, to gain
entrance to a medical college. “They taunt us by saying you stole this seat from
a deserving candidate. They ask us if we will put up a caste certificate in our
clinics when we start practice”, V. D. says. “But when we ask why they don’t
demand more seats and colleges from the government, they have no response.
When the highest-scoring reserved- category student gets 85%, and the lowest-
scoring general-category student gets 75%, how can you make an argument for
merit?” V. D. asks.52
Hailing from a severely marginalized Muslim Scheduled Tribe community,
postgraduate medical student Payal Tadvi had fought against a system
stacked against her to become a doctor. Her social media posts showed a
sensitive person eagerly wanting to help those in need. Along with her hus-
band, who is also a doctor, she was planning to start a hospital after com-
pleting her studies. But the ugly reality of caste discrimination derailed her
dreams. Tadvi took the extreme step of suicide on the campus of Topiwala
National Medical College in Mumbai. The anti-ragging committee has
found that she was subjected to “extreme harassment” by three upper caste
seniors. The incident lays bare the inadequacy of the system in handling
what is a gruesome social reality in India. Over the years, governments have
tried to put in place mechanisms that were supposed to ensure such inci-
dents do not take place. But the system has lost its teeth to the grind
because the people who are supposed to keep it moving are themselves
subject to the machinations of the caste system, which perceives people from
marginalized communities as undeserving of their positions. In the case of
Tadvi, the system failed totally. Her complaints to the college went
unheard. Despite her family intervening multiple times over a period of six
months and bringing the caste harassment to the notice of the management,
the three senior upper-caste students, who have now been arrested, were
given a free rein to continue the alleged discrimination.53
Before she killed herself on that fateful day, Payal had apparently performed
two surgeries and spoken to her mother on the phone. For months leading up
to her death, she had told her family that she was being harassed by three
“upper” caste women doctors. They allegedly went to the toilet and then wiped
their feet on her bed, called her casteist slurs, made fun of her for being a tribal
on WhatsApp groups and threatened to not allow her to enter operation thea-
tres or perform deliveries. A few hours before she took her life, she had
reportedly told her mother, once again, about this harassment.54 A public
health officer with the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation says, on condi-
tion of anonymity, that growing up in a city like Mumbai prepared him for
certain kinds of caste bigotry. “We learnt to ignore it. But a person like Payal,
coming from a more insulated community, may not have had such prior
encounters”, the doctor adds.55 V. D., who is from Nanded district, agrees,
“We also ignore such taunts, but when you have a heavy workload, it can lead
to a lot of stress”.
Flagging the issue of rampant casteplaining in the medical profession, an
anonymous narrative detailed the social media campaign against reservations.
The Maharashtra government had initiated the admission process for medical
post-graduation for the new academic year – 2019 to 2020. A major debate in
this year’s admission season has been the implementation of two new categories
of reservation – for Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) and Socially and
Educationally Backward Classes (SEBC). Following the release of the seat
matrix for the first round of admissions, there was a massive outcry among
students in the open category about the reservation. I’m writing this not to
debate the constitutionality of EWS or SEBC reservations, but as a student and
medical professional from the SC category who has been subjected to inflam-
matory and infuriating attacks on my credibility as a doctor.
In their attempt to deride the newly implemented quotas, students from the
open category and their parents have waged a social media crusade against all
forms of reservation – including caste-based reservation. Banal hashtags such as
#TheDoctorYouDeserve and #MurderOfMerit have been trending on Twitter
and Instagram for more than a month. Just today, I came across a Facebook
post by an Internal Medicine resident from Mumbai. The person had updated
their name on Facebook to include the phrase “Open Category”, while urging
the general public to inquire about their doctor’s caste. Not only does this
person have the audacity to display their casteist prejudice – by labelling
themselves “Open Category” – but also to express that doctors from reserved
categories are not competent to practice medicine.56 What is conveniently for-
gotten in the slanging matches is that private medical colleges charge exorbitant
rates for ‘management quota’, a euphemism for the backdoor entry for those
who scored poorly in the national level entrance exams. These seats usually go
to the dominant communities as they have the resources to participate in such
auctions.
Payal’s institutional murder was sought to be attributed to work pressure.
However, the suffocating culture of professional colleges, where ‘merit’ is taken
for granted devoid of the family farm which nurtures it, there is no research to
delve into the effects of casteplaining on mental health.
I attended one of India’s elite law schools. In these spaces – unlike in

medical and engineering colleges – casteism was subtle and intellectualised
(perhaps because aspiring lawyers knew how to avoid a penalty under the
Prevention of Atrocities Act). I could never really tell what made me feel
different, lonely and marginalised. In my first year, a faculty member pro-
claimed that she was Brahmin, and went on to ask other Brahmin students
to raise their hands. The same lecturer asked us to make a project on our
ancestors. I wasn’t comfortable sharing my ancestry, but I had to – it was
to be marked for 20 marks. The upper caste students didn’t see it as a big
deal. For many of them, it was an opportunity to boast of the achievements
of their forefathers and their rich ancestries, all somehow related to their
social location. Some of us, who had no such histories to tell, felt ashamed
when it was our turn. The casteism of my peers was mostly implicit.
Explicit references to caste were mostly stereotypical and prejudiced.
Tambrams and Kayasths were the most intelligent, apparently, Rajputs
valiant and emotional; Banias shrewd and money-minded, and so on. In
groups dominated by savarnas, such remarks were often made, for each
other in jest. It made me wonder how they’d refer to me if they knew who
I was: a former untouchable. When I tried to point out that such state-
ments were inherently casteist, they defended themselves, saying they had a
right to feel proud of their caste and that I should be proud of mine. Be
proud of the fact that people from my caste were routinely humiliated,
pushed into bonded labour, and beaten up when they tried to go to school?
Okay.57
How is a student, often a first-generation learner to deal with such micro-

aggressions? He or she is advised to grin and bear it or ignore it, as fighting
against the everyday gaslighting of their self-respect will lead to more oppres-
sion. Often, SC/ST/OBC students internalize such narratives and self-flagellate.
If they speak out their existence, they are seen to be playing the victim card. It
is difficult for them to escape from the cage of stereotypes.
The cases discussed here cannot be dismissed as mere suicides. The decision
to take one’s life might be an individual one, but it is preceded by a systemic
embodiment of caste even in the most banal circumstances. The habitus of elite
HEIs encompasses an orientation towards both ‘perception’ and ‘practice’, an
orientation that is suggestive of caste supremacy. When we say that, “this is a
Brahmin institution”, what we mean is that it is not merely an object of
thought, but of (imperceptible) practices, too, whose effects on the Dalit Bahu-
jan’s moral, psychic, social and spiritual health can be devastating. In such a
cultural imagination, Dalit Bahujans are things that lack the capacity to shine
and they are constitutive of matter that is devoid of immanent power and
vitality. At their best, they may form the vestigial organs of HEIs, a distasteful
and (un)avoidable historical and cultural baggage.58 A marginalized student was
described by a teacher as a “disaster to academics”.59
If one were to look at higher educational institutions as spaces that are both
embodied and disembodied sites that reproduce caste along with knowledge,
then it follows that they produce marked distinctions. This production of
marked distinctions based on caste is successfully perpetuated through an
affective articulation of the body of an institution and its people. Dalit-Bahu-
jans, as relatively new entrants to this body that has been largely composed of
savarna aesthetics and taste, are constantly made to feel alienated and dis-
criminated against. It is sometimes in the form of informal procedures that
delay their scholarships and rights, a lack of recognition of Dalit-Bahujans’
embodied presence in classrooms, other university spaces and so on. Thus,
there is a whole affective economy of higher educational institutions that
devalues the Dalit-Bahujan “being” by prioritizing the already normalized pre-
sence of savarna aesthetics and taste. It is in this realm where Dalit-Bahujan
embodiment itself is seen as a threat; Dalit students like Rohith and Muthuk-
rishnan seek radical equality, which is beyond the demands for mere presence in
modern spaces. They were seeking the life of the mind as well, which is more
than the instrumentality of presence.60
Notes
1 Solidarity Committee of University Students, “Fact Finding Report of the investiga-
tion of the suicide of P. Raju, a student. University of Hyderabad”, 19th March 2013,
p. 12.
2 For details, refer Thorat S. K. and S. Madheswaran, “Graded Caste Inequality and
Poverty: Evidence on Role of Economic Discrimination”, Journal of Social Inclusion
Studies, Sage Publications, June 18, 2018.
3 Gupta Monobina, “In the Aftermath of Rohith Vemula’s Tragic Death, We Would
Do Well to Heed Thomas Piketty’s Thoughts on Inequality”, The Caravan, 26 January
2016, p. 1.
4 Sandel Michael, The Tyranny of Merit, Penguin, 2020, pp. 199–201.
5 For details refer, Hecht Jennifer Michael, “The Twentieth Century’s Two Major
Voices On Suicide”. In Stay: A History of Suicide and the Philosophies Against It,
Yale University Press, 2013, p. 194.
6 Hecht Jennifer Michael, op. cit., pp. 194–195.
7 Collins, P. H. “Toward a New Vision, Race, Class and Gender as Categories of
Analysis and Connection”. In Shea P. Emily (2013) “The Sociology of Youth Suicide:
Risk and Protective Factors: library.emmanuel.edu/archive/sites/default/files/Shea_E_
Thesiso.pdf, 1989, May 24. Accessed 15 September 2020.
8 Varma Ananya, “Rise In Suicides In India in 2019; Highest Suicide Rate In Mahar-
ashtra: NCRB”, www.republicworld.com/india-news/law-and-order/rise-in-suicides-in-
india-in-2019-highest-suicide-rate-in-maharashtra.html#:~:text=In%20the%20year%
202019%2C%20139%2C123,National%20Crime%20Records% 7 September 2020.
Accessed 7 September 2020.
9 Sabrangindia, “75,000 student suicides between 2007 and 2016 in India! Academic
pressure, caste-based discrimination found to be major causes”, https://sabrangindia.
in/article/75000-student-suicides-between-2007-and-2016-india, 28 November 2019.
Accessed 7 March 2020.
10 Singh Aatika and Singh Shubhkaramdeep, “Looking at mental health through Caste”,
https://thelifeofscience.com/2020/12/17/psychiatry-caste/ Accessed 15 January 2021.
11 Express News Service, “Telling Numbers: 10,000 student suicides a year in India,
1,400/year in Maharashtra”, https://indianexpress.com/article/explained/10000-student-
suicides-a-year-in-india-1400-year-in-maharashtra-6297853/, March 4, 2020. Accessed 7
March 2020.
12 Singh Shrini, “The Bitter Truth of Suicides in Higher Education in India”. Retrieved from
www.thecitizen.in/index.php/NewsDetail/index/8/7139/The-Bitter-Truth-of-Suicides-in-
Higher-Education-in-India 15 March 2016. Accessed 15 January 2021.
13 Ibid.
14 A song by Godishala Jayaraju, which invokes a sense of anomie and reflects social
apathy, sung at the Velivada, Praveen Donthi, “From Shadows to the Stars. The
Defiant Politics of Rohith Vemula and the Ambedkar Students Association”, The
Caravan, 1 May 2016, p. 2.
15 Chopra Ritika, “Suicides in Navodaya schools: 49 in 5 years, half of them Dalit and
tribal students”, https://indianexpress.com/article/india/jawahar-navodaya-vidyalayas-
suicides-schools-dalit-tribal-jnv-5506564/ 19 September 2021. Accessed 19 September
2021.
16 Mukherji Anahita, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Student-suicides-soar-26-
in-5-years-education-system-blamed/articleshow/10573202.cms, 2011. Accessed 20
January 2020.
17 Kimbrough Regina M., Molock Sherry D. and Walton Kimberly, “Perception of
Social Support, Acculturation, Depression, and Suicidal Ideation Among African
American College Students at Predominantly Black and Predominantly White Uni-
versities”, The Journal of Negro Education, Summer, 1996, Vol. 65, No. 3, Educat-
ing Children in a Violent Society, Part I (Summer, 1996), p. 296.
18 Kimbrough Regina M., Molock Sherry D. and Walton Kimberly, op. cit., p. 304.
19 Raju-Venkatesh Solidarity Committee “Report on Recent Dalit Student Suicides at
University of Hyderabad”, 2nd December 2013 https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.
php?option=com_content&view=article&id=7079:report-on-recent-dalit-student-suicides-
at-university-of-hyderabad&catid=122&Itemid=138 Accessed 27 December 2018.
20 Ibid.
21 Apoorvanand, “Umar Khalid, My Son”, The Indian Express, February 23, 2016.
Accessed 27 December 2018.
22 Dasgupta Sangeeta, “Umar Khalid, My Student”, February 22, 2017, https://india
nexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/jnu-protest-sedition-umar-khalid-anirban-my-
student/ Accessed March 11, 2017.
23 Visvanathan Shiv, “Rusticating dreams”, www.deccanchronicle.com/columnists/
210116/rusticating-dreams.html, Jan. 21, 2016. Accessed 11 March 2017.
24 www.youthforequality.in/about-us/history/ Accessed 11 March 2017.
25 The Faculty Association of AIIMS (FAIIMS) backed the protestors, and announced a
“mass casual leave”, stepping up the pressure on the government to scrap the OBC
reservations. Refer Jeelani Mehmoob, “Unhealed Wounds: The suicide of a Dalit
student at India’s top medical college reveals an institution bitterly divided over caste
and reservations”. The Caravan, 1st July 2012, p. 6.
26 Jeelani Mehmoob, op. cit., p. 5.
27 Ibid, p. 6.
28 Kumar Anoop, “The Death of Anil Meena”, https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?
option=com_content&view=article&id=6271:the-death-of-anil-meena&catid=129&
Itemid=195, 26th February 2013. Accessed 18 May 2018.
31 Ibid, p. 7.
32 Jeelani Mehmoob, op. cit., pp. 8–9.
33 Ibid, p. 15.
34 Ibid, p. 14.
35 Jeelani Mehboob, op. cit., p. 15.
36 They are a pig rearing Dalit community in the southern state of Tamil Nadu.
37 Senthil Kumar Solidarity Committee, “Caste, Higher Education and Senthil’s Sui-
cide”, Economic and Political Weekly, August 16, 2008, p. 11.
38 N. Sukumar, “Living a Concept: Semiotics of Everyday Exclusion”, Economic and
Political Weekly November 15, 2008, pp. 14–15.
39 Irani Smriti in the Lok Sabha on Rohith’s death. www.indiatoday.in/india/story/
here-is-the-full-text-of-smriti-iranis-lok-sabha-speech-on-rohith-vemula-and-jnu-row-
310406-2016-02-24, February 24, 2016. Accessed 20 June 2018.
40 N. Sukumar, “‘Red Sun in the Blue Sky’: Rohith Vemula’s Utopian Republic”, Social
Change, 46(3) 1–6, Sage Publications, 2016.
41 Ibid.
42 “‘He was a very intelligent student who showed a lot of promise. Getting admission
in this college is difficult since we admit only the brightest rural students after an
entrance test’. Kondiaiah B, the principal of Andhra Pradesh Junior Residential
College, Kodigenahalli, was a lecturer in 2004 at the time Rohith was a student
there”. https://indianexpress.com/article/india/india-news-india/dalit-scholar-rohith-
vemula-the-student-the-leader/, February 1st, 2016. Accessed 20 June 2018.
43 Ibid.
44 Donthi Praveen, “From Shadows to the Stars. The Defiant Politics of Rohith Vemula
and the Ambedkar Students Association”, The Caravan, 1st May 2016, pp. 5–8.
45 Donthi Praveen, op. cit., p. 16.
46 This is an excerpt from Rohith Vemula’s suicide note. https://thewire.in/caste/rohith-
vemula-letter-a-powerful-indictment-of-social-prejudices 17 January 2017. Accessed 20
April 2019.
47 Kuniyl Sarath Ramesh, “When equality is denied, everything is denied”, wrote Muthuk-
rishnan, 14 March 2017, www.theweek.in/webworld/features/society/muthukrishnan-
jeevanantham-jnu-suicide-rohith-vemula.html Accessed 15 May 2019
48 www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1827889954100788&set=a.1375126126043842&
type=3 Accessed 30 June 2020.
49 Bhattacharya Anirban comment in JNU Dalit scholar’s death is an eerie reminder of
how we failed Rohith Vemula, www.dailyo.in/variety/jnu-dalit-death-suicide-muthuk
rishnan-rajini-krish-rohith-vemula/story/1/16163.html14/3/2017 Accessed 30 June 2020.
50 Kartikeyan Divya, “JNU student’s alleged suicide brings back memories of Rohith
Vemula”, The Scroll, https://scroll.in/article/831741/jnu-students-alleged-suicide-brings-
back-memories-of-rohith-vemula 14 March 2017. Accessed 30 June 2020.
51 Ibid.
52 Satheesh Shone, “Payal Tadvi suicide case: The death of a doctor”, 7th June 2019,
www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/features/payal-tadvi-suicide-case-the-death-of-a-doctor-
1559891147950.html Accessed 25 July 2019.
53 Yamunan Sruthisagar, “The Daily Fix: Indian colleges need stronger deterrence
against casteism on campus”, https://scroll.in/article/925270/the-daily-fix-indian-colleges-
need-stronger-deterrence-against-casteism-on-campus, 30 May 2019. Accessed 20 June
2019.
54 Bhuyan Anoo, “Even After Payal Tadvi’s Death, Doctors’ Body Unconvinced of
Caste Discrimination”, The Wire, 28 May 2019. Accessed 25 August 2019.
55 Satheesh Shone, op. cit.
56 Anonymous, “A Young Doctor’s Appeal: Let’s Understand Privilege Before We Talk
Merit”, The Wire, 19th April 2019 https://thewire.in/caste/caste-medicine-student-privilege-
merit Accessed 15 September 2019.
57 Mrudula, “The Culture of Professional Colleges Failed Dr Payal Tadvi – Just as It
Did Me”, The Wire, 31st May 2019 https://science.thewire.in/health/payal-tadvi-caste-
discrimination-law-universities/ Accessed 15 September 2019.
58 Thirumal P. “Dominant Bodies and Their Ethical Performances Violence of Caste
Embodiment in Higher Educational Institutions”, Economic and Political Weekly, 18
January 2020, Vol. IV, No. 3, p. 37.
59 Solidarity Committee of University Students, op. cit., 2013, p. 5.
60 Thirumal P. and Christy Carmel, “Why Indian Universities Are Places Where
Savarnas Get Affection and Dalit-Bahujans Experience Distance”, www.epw.in/engage/
article/why-indian-universities-are-places-where-savarnas-get-affection-and-dalit-bahujans
Vol. 53, Issue No. 5, 3 February 2018. Accessed 30 October 2019.
6 Conclusion
Social Cosmology of Merit and Pervasive
Injustices
The education scenario in India has been hit by a double whammy, while working
on this book. The Covid-19 pandemic not only ravaged peoples’ bodies but also
exacerbated the existing social fault lines. To make up for the loss in teaching when
a countrywide lockdown was imposed to contain the virus, educational institutions
were forced to take recourse to the digital mode, which entailed families and insti-
tutions investing in electronic devices. Scores of students, at multiple levels, were
plagued by lack of electronic gadgets, connectivity issues, shortage of books and
other reading materials. The binaries of urban-rural divide, caste, class and gender,
all came to the fore. For many teachers and students, this was a novel format to
engage in the teaching-learning process. In the midst of all the drastic changes, the
government ushered in the new National Education Policy without widespread
consultation. Unfortunately, in the rush to prove that the situation is ‘normal’, the
mental and emotional wellbeing of students, teachers and administrative staff has
been largely ignored. They are left to negotiate the vagaries of the pandemic, eco-
nomic losses, non-dispersal of fellowships, domestic troubles, all on their own.
Many institutions insisted on full fee payment, open-book exams and forceful
evictions from hostel rooms etc. As the pandemic continued, the entrance tests to
various academic programmes were conducted online with students scrambling to
upload documents, pay fees and secure various certificates. Only time will reveal the
precarity of those mofussil students who are out of the coverage area. An under-
graduate student of Lady Shri Ram College1 in Delhi University was strained to
commit suicide, as her family was unable to support her education. Her father
worked as a motor mechanic and the family’s economic condition worsened due to
the pandemic. The college had insisted all second-year students must vacate the
hostel and she was apprehensive about the rising cost of living expenses in such a
situation. The tragic news prompted the UGC to announce the speedy dispersal of
all pending fellowships. Why does it take the death or suicide of a student to force
the bureaucracy and institutions to act?
The New National Education (Exclusion/Exit) Policy

The NEP-2020 aspires to restore the ‘Indianness’ of the education system and
envisages that the curriculum and pedagogy should be “rooted in the Indian and
DOI: 10.4324/9781003095293-6
Conclusion 169
local context and ethos in terms of culture, traditions, heritage, customs, lan-
guage, philosophy, geography, ancient and contemporary knowledge, societal
and scientific needs, indigenous and traditional ways of learning etc”.2 On the
one hand, there is a lot of talk on dismantling rote learning, making the stu-
dents think creatively and innovatively. How is it possible when the template of
what constitutes ‘Indianness’ and who is identified as an ‘Indian’ is already laid
out by the state? Will the pedagogy be comfortable to discuss Northeast cul-
tures and cuisines or Dalit food habits/festivals? The story of the Breast Tax in
Kerala mysteriously vanished from NCERT textbooks. The emergence of reli-
gious obscurantism and its glorification in the academic domain has only pro-
moted half myths and spurious science.3
To make it easier for both governments as well as non-governmental phi-

lanthropic organizations to build schools, to encourage local variations on
account of culture, geography, and demographics, and to allow alternative
models of education, the requirements for schools will be made less
restrictive.4
In a perceptive analysis, Disha Navani points out that the child labourer,
the girl child who takes care of her siblings, the Dalit child living on the
village periphery, the Muslim child who is a target of communal barbs and
the tribal child often taunted with jokes did get periodic attention in policy
documents but nothing radical was either suggested or done to enable them
to break the vicious cycle of disadvantage.5 The proposal of exit strategies
needs to be further worked out, or else it will end up legitimizing dropouts.
The idea of ‘one nation-one culture’ is reinforced by undue emphasis on
‘classical’ aspects of heritage, arts and philosophy. Whose culture will form
part of the pedagogy is a subjective decision. Do Dalit/tribal lifeworlds form
part of the classical tradition? On many campuses, theatre festivals, semi-
nars, food festivals etc. have been attacked on the grounds of cultural
nationalism.6 Unfortunately, the NEP has nothing concrete to offer to these
disadvantaged sections of our society.
The NEP 2020 emphasizes “recognizing, identifying, and fostering the unique
capabilities of each student”, which is indeed a laudable exercise. However, in a
hierarchical society where the divide between ‘brains and hands’ is deeply
entrenched, the pre-existing notions of merit will continue to hold sway. In
addition, the stress on vocational and skill-based learning – like carpentry,
electric and metal work, gardening, pottery making etc. – would lead to the
imposition of caste-based professions. Mrinal Pande shared a personal anecdote
about invisible hands doing dirty work. She observed how the idea of caste
parameters of every job/skill in India and the hankering for a government job
by an acquaintance for her differently abled son. “I am getting old, the land is
turning barren, so you must get my son a sarkari job with a pension. He will be
a good chaprasi (peon) in any sarkari daftar”. Mrinal Pande pointed out that he
will need some qualifications, a school-leaving diploma at least.
170 Conclusion
Nah. I took him to a vocational school. But when I saw they teach only
manual work I brought him back. My son is a Brahmin and will not train
and use tools sitting with sons of carpenters and coppersmiths. Listen, get
him in just any government office. He will get to wear a sarkari uniform
and sit on a stool outside his sahib’s room. I promise you he will stand up
and salute whenever the sahib comes.7
Despite the multiple problems plaguing public universities, it is the only

democratic site which offers an opportunity for various communities to interact
in a comparatively liberal atmosphere. The public university is thus a unique
and historically unprecedented space from the point of view of the democrati-
zation of society. This is also the reason why existing social hierarchies and
power centres are beginning to view it as a threat.8 There is complete silence on
reservations for SC/ST/OBCs both at the level of students and faculty recruit-
ment. The NEP-2020 speaks of communication, teamwork and resilience but
fails to explain the context of the statement. In a scenario, where Dalit-Bahujan
students are dropping out of professional courses and universities, and in worst
cases, even committing suicide, reflects a complete breakdown of cooperation
and empathy within academic spaces, which breaks the coping mechanism of
the marginalized students. The absence of any mention on reservations makes
one wonder as to how the goal of equity and inclusion in education will be
achieved. The private institutions are reluctant to accept any idea of affirmative
action nor is the state desirous to do so. Financing their education has become a
major source of exploitation, especially for the marginalized groups. The
document has failed to provide any financial outlays to address this issue given
the fact that in the coming days, student enrolment will be affected by the
pandemic and the economic crisis. IITs, IIMs, IIITs and central universities are
encouraged to go for self-financed courses. Many campuses were protesting
these measures and NIFT students are running from pillar to post to get their
fees waived in the light of the uncertain future. The NEP endows a warm glow
that things are finally changing for the better; the next generation will be
transformed into ‘better Indians’ and we will turn into a vishwaguru.9 The NEP
2020, promises Ache Din10 for the private players in education. However, as
Colson Whitehead observed in his novel The Underground Railroad, “The
Declaration [of Independence] is like a map”, he wrote “You trust that it’s
right, but you only know by going out and testing it for yourself”.11
Addressing Discrimination on Campuses

During the tenure of Prof S. K. Thorat as the UGC Chairperson (2006–2011),
the UGC has taken several measures of Dalit students committing suicide on
campuses because of various forms of caste-based structural discrimination. On
19th July 2011,12 a letter was dispatched to university registrars to initiate
measures to prevent such incidents and stringent action to be taken against
erring faculty/administrative staff. A similar letter was again issued in 2013 and
Conclusion 171
13
2016 testifying to the critical nature of the problem. In 2012, the UGC passed
a new regulation, Promotion of Equity in Higher Educational Institutions with
detailed references to overt and covert forms of discrimination to which SC/ST
students are subjected to in campuses. It also addresses the nature of dis-
crimination in the classrooms, laboratories, libraries, hostels, canteens, fellow-
ships and administration etc.; in fact, the entire ecosystem of the student. The
Deans/Heads of Institution of all HEIs have been directed to register an FIR
within 24 hours, if a complaint alleging caste-based discrimination attracts
penal laws. Further, the National Assessment and Accreditation Council
(NAAC) is directed to cater to diversity and affirmative action policy as a sepa-
rate criterion, and thus incentivize universities to develop a congenial atmosphere
that promotes diversity and also specifically include “measures to prevent caste-
based discrimination” as compulsory criteria required to be fulfilled for assess-
ment and accreditation.14 Unfortunately, constitutional bodies like the SC/ST
commissions, both at the centre and state levels and Parliamentary Standing
Committee for SC/STs, remain mute spectators during such crises.
Despite all the regulatory mechanisms, SC/ST students are coerced to kill
themselves on various campuses with unfailing regularity. The pristine imagi-
nation of the socially dominant communities exhibits a blind spot when it
comes to Dalit-Bahujans co-inhabiting their elite habitus. These gatekeepers are
adept at extinguishing any tremors in their spotless spaces and the transgressors
are often shown the door in many subtle ways. In an attempt to investigate the
lofty claims of the UGC and Ministry of Education to prevent caste-based dis-
crimination on campuses, an RTI was filed (2018–2019) based on the format
created by the former in 2016, to report such cases. Both public and private
(UGC-recognized) institutions were selected randomly across the country and
information was sought on this issue. Every department/centre/research institute
situated in universities and affiliated colleges are supposed to record every case/
complaint of caste-based discrimination and report it to university officials.
This report is compiled and forwarded to the UGC and then to Ministry of
Education for necessary action. It implies that every faculty, non-teaching staff
and other higher officials are responsible for maintaining records of such com-
plaints and ensuring equity in their respective spaces. The information sought
was based on the following: 1) Whether the university/institution has con-
stituted any committee to look into the complaints of discrimination received
from SC/ST/OBC students, teachers, non-teaching staff. 2) Whether the uni-
versity/institution has developed a page on its website for lodging complaints of
caste-based discrimination received from SC/ST/OBC students. with URL
details if yes. 3) Whether the university/institution is maintaining the complaint
register and the mode of action taken on the complaint of caste-based dis-
crimination. 3 (i) No. of complaints received during the last one year. 3 (ii) Out
of the total complaints received, number of complaints settled/solved. 3 (iii)
Whether any suicidal type of action was reported in the complaints. (In num-
bers) 3 (iv) Action taken in case incident comes to the notice of the authority
against official/faculty. 4) Whether the university/institution has any cell to look
172 Conclusion
into complaints of discrimination against SC/ST/OBC received from the affili-
ated/constituent college. 4 (i) Mode of solving the college problems. 4 (ii) No. of
complaints received and solved. 4 (iii) Type of instructions issued to the college
against caste discrimination.
The public institutions like Delhi University, Patna University, Madras Uni-
versity, Acharya Nagarjuna University and Mahatma Gandhi University failed
to furnish any information to the UGC. The private universities, such as Amity,
Manipal Academy of Higher Education (Manipal University) and Bharati
Vidyapeeth also fall in the same category. These institutions proved their lack-
adaisical approach towards any discriminatory acts on their campuses. JNU
provided complete details about setting up the committee to redress the grie-
vances and also setting up a web page with URL to resolve such issues. Unfor-
tunately, for a university with the highest number of student suicides, HCU
constituted committees, but the web page has been under construction for
almost three years. In 2018–2019, BHU registered the maximum complaints,
SC-11, ST-4 and OBC-2. The university stated that action against the com-
plaints has been taken as per rules. Pondicherry Central University also con-
stituted committees, but the constituent colleges are yet to develop web pages.
In Mumbai University, except for SC, they have not constituted any committee
for ST and OBC. They do not have any website to register cases of caste dis-
crimination nor is any register maintained. Out of four complaints received
against SCs, only one has been resolved. O. P. Jindal University has constituted
a committee for all categories and has a web link and is maintaining register.
GITAM’s University has also attempted the same but has not kept any register.
The RTI Table, based on the RTI response provided by the UGC is self-
explanatory about institutional apathy when it comes to caste discrimination on
campuses. (Refer to RTI response attached as Appendix.)
The Xth Plan profile of Higher Education in India under Para 10.B (2) pro-
vides specific guidelines regarding the integration of SC/ST into the academic
mainstream, “To ensure the effective implementation of the reservation policy
in admission, recruitment, allotment of staff quarters, Hostels etc. SC/ST Cells
are established in the Universities”. Regarding students from these commu-
nities, these Cells will “monitor the working of the remedial coaching scheme,
if approved in the affiliated colleges and university. It will also function as a
Grievances Redressal Cell for the Grievances of SC/ST students and employees
of the university and render them necessary help in solving their academic as
well as administrative problems”.15 The UGC also stipulated staff members for
the smooth functioning of the Cell and the withholding of grants if there is any
discrepancy or delay in the data provided by the college/university. However, as
the respondents (273) of the present research revealed as shown in Table 6.1,
the SC/ST Cells are either non-existent or wherever they do exist are not ser-
ious about their issues. More often than not, the functionaries of the SC/ST
Cells represent institutional interests rather than the wellbeing of the SC/ST
students, teaching and non-teaching staff. One respondent pointed out that the
Cell officials themselves are unaware of the rules. In some institutions, the
Conclusion 173
Table 6.1 Is the SC/ST Cell Functional in your University?
Frequency %
Yes 184 30.7
No 144 24.0
It’s Existing but Not Taking Issues Seriously 129 21.5
Does Not Exist in the University 17 2.8
Can’t Say 9 1.5
No Response 7 1.2
Total 600 100.0
Source: Fieldwork Data.
Equal Opportunity Cell is merged with the SC/ST Cell, which dilutes the pur-
pose of the latter.
When the respondents were asked about who resolved their grievances, as the
SC/ST Cell was non-functional and apathetic to their interests, 27% replied that
they relied on their own resources. while 42% answered that they depended on
their friends and student organizations to come to their aid. Teachers and
supervisors were also a source of support for 14% of the respondents. Inter-
estingly, only 6% of the respondents across campuses pointed to the official
student unions as resolving their grievances, which reflects their lack of trust in
the elected student representatives belonging to various political ideologies. The
case narratives of SC/ST students forced to kill themselves on campuses reflect
the chasm existing between the official student bodies and their failure to
address the legitimate concerns of these students. The majority of the campuses
covered in the study have witnessed vibrant student organizations but they are
confined to their own social groups. In many cases, they toe the administra-
tion’s line rather than building a solidarity network. In the case of Rohith
Vemula and Payal Tadvi, the elected student bodies were inactive in addressing
their problems. Similar instances occurred in multiple cases of discrimination
and suicides by SC students at AIIMS and EFLU. It is only the SC/ST/OBC/
minority students and their ideological groups who are in the vanguard of any
protest against injustices.
The rising cases of student suicides, reports of discrimination and personal
narratives recounted in this study testify to the skewed habitus under which SC/
ST students are forced to seek education. At every step they are made aware of
their quota identity, made to feel less meritorious and if they happen to be
female, subjected to sexual innuendos and harassment. If they demand their
duly constituted rights to be upheld, they are labeled as troublemakers and anti-
social elements. The majority of respondents of the present study pointed out
that a legal provision – the Anti-Discrimination Act – is required to minimize
overt and covert acts of humiliation and stigma that they are subjected to in
174 Conclusion
Table 6.2 Resolving Grievances with the Administration
Response
N %
Self 295 27.1%
Friends 275 25.3%
Students’ Organizations 188 17.3%
Teachers/Supervisor 154 14.2%
Students Union 65 6.0%
Any Other 56 5.2%
Parental Influences 33 3.0%
No Response 8 0.7%
Can’t Say 1 0.1%
Total 1087 100.0%
Source: Fieldwork Data with Multiple Responses.
Table 6.3 Legal and Institutional Necessities Against Discrimination

Frequency %
Yes 546 91.0
No 29 4.8
Don’t Know 16 2.7
No Response 5 0.8
Can’t Say 3 0.5
Total 600 100.0
Source: Fieldwork Data.
university spaces. The usual response of the institution is to constitute a com-

mittee to verify if any discrimination occurred through verbal or nonverbal
behaviour, which fails to take cognizance of the various interstices through
which SC/ST students are subjected to degrading practices.
Cultivating Radical Empathy

When campuses are in turmoil and students are protesting against multiple
unfreedoms, the judiciary delivered a judgment which would have severe reper-
cussions on protecting and maintaining the dignity and self-respect of SC/STs. It
dilutes the basic premise of the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act 1989.
Conclusion 175
Table 6.4 Naming the Proposed Anti-Discrimination Act
Response
N %
Anti-Discrimination Act 362 39.9%
Rohit Act 260 28.6%
Grievance Redressal Cell 166 18.3%
Setting up of bodies based on the recommendation 102 11.2%
of Thorat and Nafey Committee
Any Other 6 0.7%
Can’t Say 2 0.2%
Total 908 100.0%
Source: Fieldwork Data with Multiple Responses.
“All insults or intimidations to a person will not be an offence under the Act
unless such insult or intimidation is on account of victim belonging to Sched-
uled Caste or Scheduled Tribe”, a three-judge bench led by Justice L. Nages-
wara Rao observed and held that the insult must be specifically intended to
humiliate the victim for his caste. The court added that “offence under the Act
is not established merely on the fact that the informant is a member of Sched-
uled Caste unless there is an intention to humiliate a member of Scheduled
Caste or Scheduled Tribe for the reason that the victim belongs to such caste”.
The bench held that to constitute an offence under the Act, the words spoken
must be “in any place within public view”, and not within the four walls of a
house.16
One needs to read this judgment in the context of the assertive subaltern
bodies who are demanding their share of the sky. How is one to establish the
‘intent’ to humiliate or insult an SC/ST student, the lowest in the academic
hierarchy? This study has recounted multiple forms of discriminatory behaviour
ranging from questions of merit, social and cultural capital to even body
shaming. How will an SC/ST female student register a complaint of harassment
if the predator shrugs away the unwanted advances/utterances as merely com-
plimentary? A dominant community teacher can fail an SC/ST student or give
fewer marks during interviews and claim that it is for the student’s benefit so
that their performance will improve. On the other hand, there are reports that
testify to the devious notions of merit that prevent SC/ST students from acces-
sing higher education. Eleven out of the Indian Institute of Technology Bom-
bay’s (IIT-B) 26 departments and centres did not admit a single PhD scholar
from the scheduled tribe (ST) category between 2015 and 2019, revealed data
received under the Right to Information (RTI) Act. While almost 50% seats at
IITs are for students from reserved categories ST, (SC) and (OBC), less than
176 Conclusion
30% of those selected for PhD programmes at IIT-B between 2015 and 2019
were from these categories. A total of 82,277 students applied for admission to
PhD programmes in the 26 departments of IIT-B between 2015 and 2019. Of the
2,874 selected, 71.6% were from the general category; 1.6% were from the ST
category; 7.5% were from the SC category; and 19.2% were from the OBC
category. Of the total applications received in the five years, only 1.8% were
from candidates from ST category; 10.7% from SC category and 21.8% from
OBC category. This information was disclosed in response to an RTI applica-
tion filed by an IIT-B student in association with the Ambedkar Periyar Phule
Study Circle (APPSC), a student organization at the institute.17
Neither the state nor the premier institute found it essential to ponder over
the fact as to why SC/ST students are not securing admission and why the seats
remain vacant. Only when a student organization filed an RTI did this lacuna
come to light. How does one address such casteplaining when shrill debates are
held in Parliament about taxpayers’ money being wasted in public universities,
but for years, seats reserved for SC/ST/OBC remain vacant in the meritorious
institutions? It might be reported, but no remedial measures are being taken.
Similarly, the staggering rates of dropouts of SC/ST students in these insti-
tutions also need to be addressed. Over 2,400 students have dropped out from
the 23 Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) in the last two years, with over
half of them belonging to the general category. These dropouts are both at the
undergraduate and postgraduate level. According to data shared by the formerly
called Ministry of Human Resource Development in Parliament, as many as
2,461 students dropped out of various IITs across the country, of whom 1,290
belong to the general category. The remaining 1,171 students are from the SC,
ST and OBC categories. Most of the dropouts have occurred in the older IITs –
Delhi tops the list with 782 dropouts, followed by 622 in Kharagpur, 263 in
Bombay, 190 in Kanpur and 128 in Madras.18 This data is a sufficient evidence
to prove the huge burden of caste inequities persisting in higher educational
institutions. Despite the Brahmanical notion of merit, which has excluded vast
numbers of ‘Eklavyas’, there are very few Indian institutes in the global ranking
of the top 200 academic institutions. Our research institutes and universities
often lack good infrastructure, working environment, high-quality libraries,
good laboratories, standard publications and patent registrations. Though
institutions like IITs and IIMs attract lot of public funding and other crucial
support from the government, still many of these institutions (there are 23 IITs
and 20 IIMs) have failed to prove their merit on international standards. Even
popular institutions like JNU, DU, TISS do not figure in top 100 academic
institutions of the world.19 Similarly, a study tracking India’s toppers in the
school-leaving examinations for the last two decades reveals significant gaps in
terms of these students getting into lucrative careers with SC/ST, women and
minority students being invisibilized in the ‘success’ story.20
In other words, not only is it imperative that an empathetic system be
evolved to enable students from the weaker sections to access higher education
but it is also essential to understand the discourse of merit in diverse forms. As
Conclusion 177
argued by Honey Oberoi, most teachers lose sight of the fact that the classroom
is a space rife with histories embodied in the subjectivities of students. She
further points out that an education that strives to make its students into
questioning subjects runs the risk of challenging traditional norms. It hopes to
impart a critical perspective, a lens through which traditional values and
familial-cultural aspects are relooked at, at times even critiqued. While most
students grapple with a destabilizing phase of creative confusion, for some it
can turn into a painfully difficult experience akin to an identity crisis. As an
inner churning is offset through classroom discussions, students need the com-
forting and nurturing care of their teachers. Perhaps even more important than
transacting the prescribed syllabus is the holding and containing the presence of
peers and teachers who can listen, empathize and offer themselves as a reliable
non-competitive circle of care. What is essential is a humane classroom, where
intellectual discourses on transformative politics are accompanied by an
authentic reception of the subjective life of each student. The second require-
ment is an institutional administration that keenly receives and values students
as growing adults with valid positions, even when they sometimes challenge the
established institutional positions. An administration that is not afraid of stu-
dents or of “going beyond the letter of the rule” in exceptional circumstances,
and one which encourages dialogue across difficult issues, goes a long way in
fostering self-confidence in its students.21
Isabel Wilkerson succinctly observed that when an accident of birth aligns
with what is most valued in a given caste system, whether being able-bodied,
male, white, or other traits in which we had no say, it gives that lottery winner
a moral duty to develop empathy for those who must endure the indignities
they themselves have been spared. It calls for a radical kind of empathy. This
implies that as a society, we need to relearn a new consciousness, to educate
oneself and to listen with a humble heart, to understand another’s experience
from their perspective, not as we imagine we would feel. It is the kindred con-
nection from a place of deep knowing that opens your spirit to the pain of
others as they perceive it.22 It is precisely the lacunae of such humane and
empathetic spaces that forces SC/ST and other marginalized identities to lead a
double life while obscuring their real identity. As Yashica Dutt points out
tersely,
hiding one aspect of your identity is like leading a double life. You don’t
feel like you belong anywhere. You create masks to wear in each of your
lives, and switch artfully between the two. Eventually, the two blur toge-
ther and you no longer remember who you were.23
What is requisite are definite programs which analyse the reasons for SC/ST/OBC
students dropping out of elite institutions and seek to ameliorate the situation. The
annual rankings of institutions based on placements, alumni, research projects,
faculty publications etc. should also ponder on the dropouts, suicides, different
forms of discrimination and harassment, and non-implementation of reservations
178 Conclusion
both in faculty recruitments and admissions. Ironically, the NEP-2020 facilitates
multiple exit policies in the name of skill development and one way of pushing the
majority of SC/ST students to withdraw from formal education is to deny them
fellowships. The recent report that the central government has scrapped 800 crores
worth24 of assistance under the Post Matric Fellowship to SC/ST students indir-
ectly fulfils the letter and spirit of the NEP. The Post-Matric scholarship scheme is
the only centrally sponsored scheme under SC and ST budgets (the erstwhile SCP
and TSP) that attempts to bridge the growing socio-economic gap through higher
education. This is one of the oldest schemes since 1944 and was a dream scheme of
B. R. Ambedkar to ensure education justice to the communities through financial
support. This scheme covers more than 60 lakh students belonging to the poorest
of the poor students across the country, whose annual income falls below Rs 2.50
lakhs.25
Such short-sighted policies feed into the tyrannical notion of merit that
lower-caste children do not deserve to be educated. They act as a sorting
mechanism to weed out those deemed ‘unfit’ from the more meritorious for
whom the state, in conjunction with the civil society, provides more benefits.
Unfortunately, the long-term implications of such policies are often glossed
over. In a study of post-war Britain, Michael Young noted the peculiarity of a
meritocratic order. Allocating jobs and opportunities according to merit does
not reduce inequality; it reconfigures inequality to align with ability. While this
reconfiguration creates a presumption that people get what they deserve, it
deepens the gap between the rich and poor.26
Notes
1 For details refer Baruah Sukrita, Pisharody Rahul V. “If I can’t study, I can’t live”,
The Indian Express, 22nd November 2020. Accessed 22 November 2020.
2 National Education Policy (NEP) 2020, MHRD, Govt of India, p. 16.
3 N. Sukumar and Menon Shailaja, “Storming Libraries, ‘Achhe Din’ and the New
Education Policy”, https://roundtableindia.co.in/index.php?option=com_content&
view=article&id=9979:storming-libraries-achhe-din-and-the-new-education-policy&
catid=119:feature&Itemid=132 August 4, 2020. Accessed 4 August 2020.
4 NEP 2020, op. cit., 2020, p. 12.
5 Navani Disha, “NEP 2020 fails those trapped in vicious cycles of disadvantage”, The
Indian Express, September 25, 2020. Accessed 25 September 2020.
6 N. Sukumar and Menon Shailaja, Round Table, op. cit.
7 Pande Mrinal, “Invisible hands do dirty work”, The Indian Express, September 6,
2017, https://indianexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/invisible-hands-do-dirty-work-
caste-system-caste-system-in-india-caste-divide-reservations-caste-politics-employment-
4830505/ Accessed 20 November 2020.
8 Deshpande Satish, “The Public University after Rohith–Kanhaiya”, Economic and
Political Weekly, March 12, 2016, Vol II, No. 11, pp. 32–34.
9 Refers to India, attaining global leadership.
10 Election slogan of the BJP promising good days ahead.
11 N. Sukumar and Menon Shailaja, Round Table, op. cit.
12 Refer official letters from UGC-2011, 2013, 2016 www.ugc.ac.in/pdfnews/7666883_
Caste-based-discriminiation-in-HEIs.pdf.
Conclusion 179
13 The Gazette of India, 19–25 January 2013, Part III, Section 4 www.ugc.ac.in/pdfnews/
2147890_gazetteequity-Eng.pdf.
14 www.livelaw.in/pdf_upload/pdf_upload-363730.pdf December 17, 2012. Accessed 12
March 2020.
15 www.ugc.ac.in/oldpdf/xplanpdf/special_cell.pdf pp. 2–3. Accessed 23 July 2020.
16 The Wire Staff, “All Insults Don’t Count as Offences under SC/ST Act: Supreme
Court, 6 November 2020”, https://thewire.in/law/sc-st-act-offence-supreme-court
17 Sahoo Priyanka, “No PhD scholar from ST category in 11 of 26 departments at IIT-
Bombay between 2015 and 2019: RTI data, November 24, 2020”, www.hindustantimes.
com/mumbai-news/no-phd-scholar-from-st-category-in-11-of-26-departments-at-iit-
bombay-between-2015-and-2019-rti-data/story-Fg2qRn6uyQtNDBdKoZp43K.html
Accessed 23 January 2021.
18 Sharma Kritika, “2,400 students dropped out of IITs in 2 years, nearly half were SC,
ST, OBC”, The Print, 29 July 2019, https://theprint.in/india/education/2400-students-
dropped-out-of-iits-in-2-years-nearly-half-were-sc-st-obc/268626/ Accessed 23 Jan-
uary 2021.
19 Wankhede Harish, “How Meritorious and Inclusive are our Institutions of Higher
Education?”, 19th December 2020, https://thewire.in/education/iit-iim-reservation-
appointment-merit-inclusivity Accessed 23 January 2021.
20 Chopra Ritika, “20 years on, where are the Board toppers? Over half are abroad,
most in science and technology”, The Indian Express, 29 December 2020, https://
indianexpress.com/article/express-exclusive/tracking-indias-school-toppers-cbse-icse-
7121532/ Accessed 23 January 2021.
21 Oberoi Honey, “A Humane Classroom Is What Universities Must Prioritize Post-
Covid”, The Indian Express, November 19, 2020, https://indianexpress.com/article/
opinion/columns/aishwarya-reddy-suicide-lady-shri-ram-college-mental-health-students-
7056514/ Accessed 20 December 2020.
22 Wilkerson Isabel, Caste: The Lies That Divide Us, Penguin Books, 2020, pp. 385–386.
23 Dutt Yashica, Coming Out as A Dalit: A Memoir, Prologue, Aleph Books, 2019, p. 12.
24 www.hindustantimes.com/chandigarh/by-scrapping-post-matric-scholarship-scheme-
modi-govt-deprived-weaker-sections-jakhar/story-R3VaejZlWBa9FEHlnAnSMN.html
September 4, 2020. Accessed 10 January 2021.
25 NCDHR Note on Post Matric Scholarships, www.newsclick.in/Dalit-Activists-Protest-
Agaisnt-Possible-Scrapping-of-Post-Matric-Scholarship-Scheme 30th November 2020
26 For details refer Sandel Michael, The Tyranny of Merit, Penguin, 2020, p. 117.
Appendix: RTI Table
Action Taken Report of Universities/Institutions to prevent caste-based discrimination (2018–2019)
Sl.No. UNIVERSITY Category 1-Whether the 2-Whether the 3-Whether the 3.(i) 3.(ii) Out of 3.(iii) Whe- 3.(iv) Action 4-Whether the 4.(i) Mode 4-(ii) 4-(iii) Type of instruc-
University/Insti- University/Insti- University/ Number the total com- ther any sui- taken in case University/ of solving Number of tions issued to the Col-
tution has con- tution has Institution is complaint s plaints received cidal type of incident comes Institution has the College complaints lege against caste
stituted any developed a maintaining the received number of action to the notice of any cell to look problems received and discrimination
Committee to page on its Complaint during the complaints set- reported in the authority into the com- solved
look into the website for lod- Register and last one tled/solve d the com- against official/ plaints of
complaints of ging complaints the mode of year plaints faculty discrimination
discrimination of caste-based action taken on (Number) against ST/SC/
received discrimination the complaint OBC
from SC/ST/ by of caste-based received from
OBC SC/ST/OBC discrimination the affiliated/
students/tea- students.Give constituent
chers/non- URL and details College
teaching staff, thereof
give details
thereof
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
Central Universities
1 University of Information not provided by the University
Delhi
2 Jawaharlal SC Yes www.jnu.ac.in/ Yes 0 – No No N/A – – –
Nehru scstobccell
University
ST Yes www.jnu.ac.in/ Yes 1 1 No No N/A – 1 –
scstobccell
OBC Yes www.jnu.ac.in/ Yes 2 2 No No N/A – 2 –
scstobccell
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
3 University of SC Yes Page on website Yes 1 1 No NA Not Applicable NA NA NA
Hyderabad is under since University
construction. of Hyderabad
does not have
any affiliated or
constituent
colleges.
ST Yes Page on website Yes – – No NA Not Applicable NA NA NA
is under since University
does not have
any affiliated or
constituent
colleges.
OBC Yes Page on website Yes – – No NA Not Applicable NA NA NA
is under since University
Appendix: RTI Table
does not have
any affiliated or
constituent
181
colleges.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
182
4 Banaras Hindu SC Yes http://internet. Yes 11 11 Nil Actions are taken Yes After receiv- Nil Directions in form of
University bhu.ac.in/scst as per rule ing the com- OM/GOs/Circulars etc.
obc/complaint plaints, the received time to time
.php case is pre- from concerned Minis-
sented before tries viz.
the appro- MHRD, UGC,
priate author- Commission and other
ity to take Central agencies is being
further neces- circulated to the Affili-
sary action as ated/Attached Colleges
per merit of for this strict
the complaint compliance.
within ambit
of the rules.
ST Yes http://internet. Yes 4 4 Nil Actions are taken Yes After receiv- Nil Directions in form of
bhu.ac.in/scst as per rule ing the com- OM/GOs/Circulars etc.
Appendix: RTI Table

within ambit
of the rules.
OBC Yes http://internet. Yes 2 2 Nil Actions are taken Yes After receiv- Nil Directions in form of
bhu.ac.in/scst as per rule ing the com- OM/GOs/Circulars etc.
within ambit
of the rules.
5 Pondicherry SC Yes 3 Colleges have 5 Colleges have NIL NIL NIL NIL 4 Colleges Direct Coun- NIL NIL
University website 7 Col- the Complaint have Cell to selling/Deci-
leges are devel- Register look into sion of SC/ST
oping a Website the com- Cell/
for Lodging plaints of Committees/
Complaints discrimina- Through
tion against discussion
SC/ST/OBC
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
ST Yes 3 Colleges have 5 Colleges have Nil Nil Nil Nil 4 Colleges Direct Coun- NIL NIL
website 7 Col- the Complaint have Cell to selling/Deci-
leges are devel- Register look into sion of
oping a Website the com- SC/ST
for Lodging plaints of Cell/
Complaints discrimina- Committees/
tion against Through
SC/ST/OBC discussion
OBC 4 Colleges have 3 Colleges have 5 Colleges have Nil Nil Nil Nil 4 Colleges Direct Coun- NIL NIL
the Committee website 7 Col- the Complaint have Cell to selling/Deci-
leges are devel- Register look into sion of SC/ST
oping a Website the com- Cell/
for Lodging plaints of Committees/
Complaints discrimina- Through
tion against discussion
SC/ST/OBC
State Universities
1 Acharya Nagar- Information not provided by the University
juna
University
2 Patna University Information not provided by the University
3 Mahatma Gandhi Information not provided by the University
University
4 Mumbai SC 3 No – 4 1 No Yes Constitute SC/ST 4 received and Circular
University Committee 1 solved
ST Nil No – Nil Nil Nil Yes Constitute SC/ST Nil Circular
Committee
OBC Nil No – Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil Nil –
5 University of Information not provided by the University

Madras
Private / Deemed Universities
1 O. P. Jindal SC Yes (JGU Anti-Dis- https://igu.ed u.in/stu- Yes Nil N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A
Global University crimination Committee) dent- grievances-
redressal/
ST Yes (JGU Anti- https://igu.ed u.in/stu- Yes Nil N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A
Discrimination dent- grievances-
Committee) redressal/
OBC Yes (JGU Anti- https://igu.ed u.in/stu- Yes Nil N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A N/A
Discrimination dent- grievances-
Committee) redressal/
Appendix: RTI Table
2 Amity University Information not provided by the University

183
184
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14
3 Gandhi Institute SC Yes www.g itam.edu/cast – Nil N/A N/A N/A – The above SC/ST cells No complaints –
of Technology e- discrimination also look into the com- have been
and Management plaints of discrimina- received relat-
Appendix: RTI Table
(GITAM) tion against SC/ST/ ing to dis-

OBC. crimination.
ST Yes www.g itam.edu/cast – Nil N/A N/A N/A – The above SC/ST cells No complaints –
e- discrimination also look into the com- have been
plaints of discrimina- received relat-
tion against SC/ST/ ing to dis-
OBC. crimination.
OBC Yes www.g itam.edu/cast – Nil N/A N/A N/A The above SC/ST cells No complaints
e- discrimination also look into the com- have been
plaints of discrimina- received relat-
tion against SC/ST/ ing to dis-
OBC. crimination.
4 Manipal Academy Information not provided by the University
of Higher Educa-
tion (Manipal
University)
5 Bharati Information not provided by the University
Vidyapeeth
Index
Abdul Nafey Committee 77 ancestors 115; casteism and project on

Abrams, Dominic 20 163–4; commenting on 31, see also viva
abusive language 99, 128 voce examination and SC/SC students
Acharya Nagarjuna University 172 ‘annihilation of caste’ 141
achievements, decoding 71–4 Anti-Discrimination Act, need of 130,
affirmative action 9, 14, 31, 74, 113, 170, 173, 175
see also “Redesigning Affirmative anti-Mandal agitations 5, 27
Action” Anti-Ragging Act 120
African Americans 23, 113; students anti-ragging committee 162
150–1 anti-reservationists 13, 153, see also
Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad anti-Mandal agitation
(ABVP) 105, 156–8 Anusha, Bandi 30
Alagh, Y. K. 17 Anveshi Law Committee 27–8, 101
Ali, Syed Murtaza Fazal 75 Apoorvanand 15, 152
Aligarh Muslim University 7, 61, 101 Aristotle 2, 9
All India Institute of Medical Sciences Ashoka University 18
(AIIMS) 28, 30, 80, 114, 116, 151, Azad, Maulana 9
153–5, 173; caste discrimination at 78;
caste prejudices in 153; committee Bahujan Student and Social Justice
against discrimination at 79; Forums 104
examination system 79; ‘Fuck off from Balagopal 156
this wing’ poster at hostel of 98; lists Banaras Hindu University (BHU) 7, 61,
SC students to teachers of 78 69, 101, 172
All India Survey of Higher Education Banerjee, Abhijit 24
(AISHE) 43 Banias 8, 164
Allport, G.W. 87 #baniyabaes 140
Althusser, Louis 3 Bannerjee, Surendranath 8
Ambedkar Periyar Phule Study Circle Barr, Eimar 12
(APPSC) 176; in IIT Madras 26, 104 Bauman, Zygmunt 19
Ambedkar Students Association (ASA) 26, Bau-meister, Roy F. 23
27, 92, 104, 122, 135, 156–9 Baxi, Upendra 16
Ambedkar University, Delhi 140 Bechain, Sheoraj Singh 65
Ambedkar, B. R. 2, 8, 28, 66–7, 125–7, beef eating 100
132, 139, 146, 157–8, 178; on education Berger, John 1
for oppressed 65 Berridge 22
Ambedkarites 84, 92, 97, 124, 129–30, Béteille, André 5, 7, 13
157–8; as discriminatory term 92 Beti Bachao Beti Padhao 44
Amity University 172 ‘bhadralok’ 74
Amravathi, S. 30 Bhagwati, P. N. 75
186 Index
Bharati Vidyapeeth 172 casteism 124, 136, 138, 140, 142, 150, 159,
Bharati, Sunita Reddy 13 163–4; as institutionalized 136, 138
Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) 156, 158; casteist epithets/labels 28, 89, 121, 142;
Ache Din of 170 ‘ambedkar waale’ 70; ‘ambedkarwadi’
Bharti, Balmukund 28, 30, 151; hanging of 74; ‘category waalas’ 69; ‘sarkaari
153, see also suicides brahmin’ 70; ‘sarkaari damaad’ 70;
Bhima Koregaon 120 ‘Soot’ 139; ‘you are government
Bhimrao Ambedkar Welfare Hostel, Patna sons-in-law’ 83; ‘preppies’ 11, 70;
University 30 quota’s children 18, 27, 69, 143, 155;
Bhopal Declaration 2002 11 ‘quotawala’ 74
bias 4, 13, 76, 139; see also prejudices; casteplaining 16, 27, 67, 98, 115–17, 122,
stigmatization 143, 154, 159, 163, 176
Biometrics of Belonging 156–9 Catanese, Kathleen R. 23
Birla Institute of Technology and Science Central Open University 47
(BITS), Pilani 136–9; sacred thread central universities 47, 51, 53, 81, 89,
ceremony at 137 91–5, 104, 132, 160, 170
Birsa Ambedkar Phule Students Centre for Development of Imaging
Association (BAPSA) 26, 104 Technology 86
Biswas, A. K. 8 Chanana, Karuna 12
Black institutions 151 Chandra, Ajay S. 30
body shame 99, see also casteist epithets/ Chandra, Bipan 17
labels Chandrachud, Y. V. (CJI) 75
Bourdieu, Pierre 2–5, 61 Chaudhary, Sushil Kumar 30
Brahmanical castes 2; domination 71; Christians 78, 99, 126
institutions 164; ‘purity’ 28; Churchill, Winston 1
supremacy 72 class 12, 20, 23, 24, 62, 66, 68, 70, 82,
Brahmin v. Rajput jokes 140 90–2, 124–7, 132, 134–35, 148, 150
brains and hands, divide between 169 classism 142
branding, as Maoist 122 classroom 20, 27, 66, 68, 70, 87, 89–91, 94,
Breast Tax in Kerala 169 114, 125, 134, 164, 171, 177
buddhijeevi 74 coaching centres 18, 85
Buddhists 78, 119 Collins, P. H. 148
bullying 101; see also ragging Committee on the Welfare of Scheduled
Busher, Hugh 23 Caste and Scheduled Tribes 77
Byapari, Manoranjan 65 Common Law Admission Test (CLAT)
98, 139, 141
campus: casteist atmosphere of 90; life 19, conflict 21, 60, 77
29, 32, 134, 156; lingo 68; politics 28, Constitution of India 8
127, 134; predators 94–8; spaces 68, Covid-19 pandemic 168
101, 130 Crow, Jim 19
Canagarajah, S. 115 cultural capital 2, 26, 65–6, 69, 77, 82, 98,
capability deprivation 2, 9 128, 150, 175; gap 89; nationalism 169;
Carrim, Nazir 26 practices 20, 105; reproduction 3
Case, Anne 147
caste: as baggage 88; as capital 2–4; DAC Poverty Network 24
duties (Varna Dharma) 6; and Dalits 28, 42–5, 60–2, 65–71, 73–5, 82–3,
education 10; embodiment in 89, 113, 115–16, 122, 124–5, 134, 142–4,
institutional framework 15; groups 7, 156–7, 159; Bahujans 72, 104, 116, 130,
24, 71, 123; identities 4, 27, 29, 66, 78, 140, 159, 164–5; cultural activities 104;
88, 118, 122, 127, 139, 142; inequity 29, caste names 69–70; caste organizations
114; institution of 142; politics 28, 32; 113; class differences among 128;
prejudices 13, 27, 102, 153; as source faculty 96, 134; identity 136, 139, 161;
for exclusion 20; system 11, 20, 72, scholars 70, 75, 120; struggles 28
139–40, 142–3, 162, 177 Dalit Adivasi Queer Collective 140
Index 187
Dalit Christians 124–6 dissenting voices 42, 67, 101
Dalit female students 22, 30, 69–70, 96; in diversity 10, 22, 60, 68, 89, 93, 140, 171;
professional courses 83 concept of 60; initiatives 68
Dalit Mahasabha 27 Divided Lives 67–9
Dalit Student Unions 104 ‘#The DoctorYouDeserve’ 163
Dalit students 21, 66–8, 70–2, 74–5, 78, dominant castes 4, 7, 9, 32, 87, 120, 122,
82–3, 86–8, 95–6, 100–2, 104–5, 115, 125, 127, 163, 171; students of 20, 83,
121–3, 125–6, 128–30, 155–7: 99–100, 121, 129
differential treatment on 91; downtrodden 8
first-generation 135, 151; and higher downward filtration theory 8
caste faculty 68; intimidatory tactics dropouts 10, 11, 31, 66, 114, 176–7, see
on 27, 28; organizations of 32, 133; also suicides
rustication in HCU 101 Durkheim 147–8
Dalit teachers 69–70, 140, 156; denigrating Dutt, Yashica 177
SC students 70; help from 131
Dalit-Bahujan students 17, 97, 98, 101, Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) 163
104, 170; suicides among 148–50, see education 2; access to private 47;
also suicides Ambedkar on 8; Azad on right to 9;
Dani, A. A. 21, 74 Bourdieu on access to 2; denial of
Davies, J. 23 access to 2, 12; free and compulsory
De Haan, Arjan 21 9; neo-liberal reforms in 27; primary
De Venanzi, Augusto 26 12; social embeddedness of 11;
Deaton, Angus 147 subsidies in 15
Deccan College 7 Education Commission of 1964–66
dehumanization 1 (Kothari Commission Report) 42
Delhi University 5, 25–6, 29, 101, 157, “Education for Equality” 10
168, 172 education, access to women and lower
delinquent students and campus castes 2; Nash on autonomy of 4; as
surveillance 101–6 subsystem of supra-system 11; system
denial 9–10, 31, 78, 89, 105, 116, 146, 43, 61, 74, 150, 168
155–6; of admission 136, (see also viva educational apartheid 4–10, 11
voce examination); of fellowship 31, educational: credentials 2, 3, 61;
156; of justice 116; to laboratory 95; of institutions 3, 6, 10, 14–15, 18, 30, 65,
scholarship 83; of socio-cultural capital 69, 82, 95, 140, 149–50, 168; institutions
105; Thorat on 159; as weapon 155 access to elite 3; opportunities access 4,
Department Research Committee 10, 20, 22, 65, 122, 138; policies 11–12;
(DRC) 128 transformation 20, 106
deprivation 9, 10, 19, 22, 115 egalitarian 5
Deshpande, Ashwini 25 E-grantz Online system 86
Deshpande, Satish 4, 14, 16, 29, 97 elite group 8
detentions 159 elite institutions 16, 18, 134, 143, 177;
dietary choices 100 hostile environments in 29
differential treatment 29, 31, 79, 80 empathy, cultivating radical 174–8
Directive Principles of State Policy 9 engineering education 71
disabilities 21 English and Foreign Languages University
discrimination 29–30, 62, 114, 120, 122, (EFLU) 104, 105, 151, 173
127, 128, 130, 133, 135, 139–40, 146, English language 20–1, 77, 81, 96, 98,
149, 152, 154, 162, 170–2; in attitude 121, 124, 134, 150; as barrier 128;
75–6, 91; caste 10; components of 21; as disciplinary knowledge 88;
economic 25; forms of 21, 27, 65–6, 89, non-proficiency/lack of 70, 78, 82, 88,
90, 121, 124, 143, 171, 177; in grading 101, 114, 121
10; judgments of 21; legitimizing 66; enquiry committees 105, 130
processes of 20; social 10, 14, 64, 77; entrance exam 87, 92, 153
UGC definition of 21 Epistemicide of Dalits in Classroom 87–94
188 Index
equal opportunities 14, 19 Grievances Redressal Cell 172
Equal Opportunity Cell 173 Gross Enrolment Ratio (GER) 43; of SC
equality 4–5, 8, 12–14, 78, 82, 159 females 44, 47
equity 10–12, 14–15, 43, 60, 68, 105, Guha, Ramachandra 13, 60
116, 170 Gupta, M. 77
ethnicity 13, 21, 32, 68 Guru, Gopal 113, 115
everyday experiences 115, 128 gurudakshina 29, 113
examination system 79 gurukuls 2, 17, 61
Exclusion in Higher Education 10–18 guru-shishya parampara 67
exclusion, as social process 22
“exclusive inequalities” 14 Haan, de A. 19, 74
exploitation 23, 69, 170 Habermas, J. 60, 61
Eyben, R. 24 Hallam, Susan 23
hands versus brains 4–10, 72
faculty 6, 9, 29, 31, 68, 78, 80, 82, 87–8, harassment 29, 68, 69, 96, 162, 173, 175,
91–8, 105, 116, 123, 131, 152–3; as 177, see also ragging; violence
Brahmin 163; misuse of privileges 79; Hardin, Garret 16
recruitment process 117 hierarchies 1, 73, 121
fellowships 27, 80, 82–7, 98, 101, 104, 105, higher classes, Vidyasagar for education
119, 121, 124, 127–9, 131–2, 155–6, 168, to 8
171; of CSIR/UGC 101; and Kerala higher education 10–12, 15, 22, 52, 65,
initiative of dispersing 86; perceptions 67–8, 82, 121, 127, 134, 150, 156, 172,
on 83, see also scholarship 175, 178; access to 10, 67, 176;
female students 31, 44, 47, 51–3, 81, 85–6, contractualization of 53; Deshpande on
90, 92, 100–1, 104, 122, 124; as Dalits 16; ‘Kerala model’ of 44; Velaskar and
22, 30, 69–70, 96; of Dalits as behenji Chanana on 12
69; experiences of 90; in professional Higher Education Institutions (HEIs)
courses 83; Punjab government for 47 29–31, 164, 171, 176
first-generation learners 126, 150, 161, 164 Hindi medium students 88
food courses 16, 43 Hoff, Karla 24
food habits 71, 88, 100 Hogg, Michael A. 20
Forms of Capital, The 2 hostels 20, 31, 69, 84, 98–101, 104–5,
funding agencies 85–6, see also 121, 123, 130, 134, 152, 157–8, 168,
fellowships/scholarships 171–2; graffiti “Fuck off from this wing
– bastard leave this wing” 153; ground
Gamoran, Adam 23 floors reservations for upper castes
Gandhi, M. K. 8 98, 141; upper floors reservation for
GATE 121 SC/ST students 98, 101, 141,
Gaventa, John 24 142, 153
Gawle, Linesh Mohan 30 hostility 15, 21, 79, 94, see also
Gellner, Ernest 1 humiliation
gender 2, 4, 5, 7, 11–15, 20–1, 31–2, 67, House Rent Allowance (HRA), and hostel
68, 82, 91, 94, 118, 122, 125, 127–8, 148 fee 84, 85
Gender Parity Index 43 houses on rent 143
general category 5, 70–1, 76, 82, 88, 92, human life 2, 9
98, 116, 125–6, 128, 141, 176 humanism 10, 61, 114
General Engineering Males (GEM) humiliation 10, 15, 23, 25, 28, 29, 31–2,
candidates 137 64, 68, 69, 94, 113, 119, 135, 143, 159,
ghettoization 98–101, 141–2, 158 173; symbolic group 143
Ghosh, Jayati 14 Hunter Commission 8
GITAM’s University 172 Hyderabad Central University (HCU)
Goffman, Erving 15, 25, 26 27–8, 31, 64–5, 69, 80, 95, 101, 150–1,
grading/marking, discrimination in 129, 155–6, 160, 172; rustication and police
see also viva voce examination case by 27
Index 189
identity 26–7, 31, 74, 82, 113, 117, 120, Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) 17,
135, 138, 147, 153, 158, 177; clashes 27; 24, 28, 31, 75–8, 102, 147, 152, 159–60,
crisis 10, 177; institutionalization of 172, 176; incident in 101; reservation
118; SC/ST/OBC 118; social 4, 21, 24–5, policy at 77
143; as stigma 26 Jenkins, Robert 12
identity-based student groups 68 Jha, Monica 99; narration by 85
ideological beliefs 92 Jio University 18
“Ideological State Apparatus” 3 John, Mary E. 22
IIITs 170 Joothan, by Om Prakash Valmiki 65
Ilaiah, Kancha 7, 72 Juggi Jopadi (J. J. Colony) 132
imagined other 137 Junior Research Fellowship (JRF) 82–3,
India Untouched 139–40 85, 123, 127, 135, 157
Indian Council for Social Science Research
(ICSSR) 75, 129; Doctoral Fellowship Kabeer, Naila 19
of 85 Kamble, Ramesh 89
Indian Institute of Management (IIMs) 18, Kamble, Rohit 89
116, 152, 170, 176 Kannabiran, Kalpana 139
Indian Institute of Sciences (IISc) 18, 30, Kashi Vidyapith 7
71–2, 114; as Iyer Iyengar Science Kaufmann, Paulus 23
Campus 72 Kayasths 164
Indian Institute of Technology (IITs) 6, Kirpal, Viney 11, 77
15, 18, 26, 30, 77, 114, 131, 151–2, 170, knowledge production 1, 17, 71, 113, 115;
175–6; SC and ST faculty members in university for 7
116; SC/ST (Scheduled Tribes) students Koshal, A. D. 75
at Bombay 11 Kothari Commission 42, 43
Indianness 168, 169 Krishna, V. 151
Indiresan, Jayalakshmi 11 Krishna Iyer, V. R. 75
Inequality/poverty traps 3, 5, 6, 14, 19–20, Krishnarao, Ch. 12
23–4, 44, 66, 146–7, 178 Kuch, Hannes 23
inferiority 10, 24, 65, 77, 139 Kumar, Kesava 102
injustices 17, 27, 74, 168, 173 Kumar, Manish 30
institutes of national importance 116; SC Kumar, Nitish 73
teachers in 60 Kumar, Rani 154
institutional ennui 159–61; Density 43; Kumar, Senthil, suicide of 14, 30, 64, 80,
power 105 94, 95, 105, 151, 155–6, see also suicides
institutions, categories of 43–4 Kumar, Vivek 21, 92
insults 150, 175, see also hostility; Kureel, Prashant 30
humiliation Kurtz, Donald 15
intellectual resources 11, 146
inter-caste relationships 120 labelling: on caste 75, 80, 163; as
interpersonal relationships 20, 32, 120 ‘troublemaker’ 117, 173, see also
Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis casteist epithets
(IPA) 21, 32, 118 Lady Sri Ram College, Delhi
interview process 76, 117, see also viva University 168
voce examination Laws of Manu in India, The 19
intimidation 175, see also brahmanical ‘learning community’ 8
domination; humiliation left liberals 74
Ireson, J. 23 linguistic affinities 99
isolation 10, 15, 21, 67, 147, 151, 158 lived experiences 1, 27, 29, 32, 115–18, 149
Lokmanya Tilak Municipal Medical
Jai Bheem walas 70, 74, 84, 97 College, Mumbai 161
Jamia Millia Islamia 7 lower castes 1, 2, 4–6, 9, 11, 32, 72, 135,
Jawahar Navodaya Vidyalayas 143, 146; as “hyper-visible” 6
(JNVs) 150 Luckmann 1
190 Index
Luke, Allen 115 National Assessment and Accreditation
Lum, Kathryn 67 Council (NAAC) 31, 64, 171
National Commission for SCs & STs 133,
macro-economic policy 66 135–6
Madras University 172 National Crime Records Bureau
Mahatma Gandhi University 172 (NCRB) 148
Mahinder 153–4 National Education Policy (NEP 2020)
Mandal Commission Report 5, 27, 152 105, 168–70, 178
Manipal Academy of Higher Education National Eligibility cum Entrance Test
(Manipal University) 172 (NEET) 161
Manjhi, Dashrath 72–3 National Eligibility Test (NET) 27
manual labour 12, 126 National Fellowship for Scheduled Caste
marginalization communities of 4, 17, 116, (NFSC) 85
137, 162; groups of 11, 16, 20, 26, 32, National Institute of Fashion Technology
66, 87, 126, 150, 161, 170; students of (NIFT) 170
105, 164, 170 National Policy on Education of 1986 42
Marques, José M. 20 National Policy on Higher Education of
mass education, Phule for 8 1986 43
Mayawati 44 Navani, Disha 169
Meena, Anil Kumar, suicide of 28, 151, Nelson, Todd D. 23
153–5 Neuhäuser, Christian 23
merit 3–5, 11, 13–14, 16, 17, 70–3, 83, New National Education (Exclusion)
116–17, 121–2, 124, 136, 143, 153–4, Policy 168–70
175–6, 178; cultural autopsies of 161–5;
institutionalization of 7; social cosmol- O. P. Jindal University 172
ogy of 168 Oberoi, Honey 177
merit vs non-merit 72 objectification 24, 67
meritocracy 6, 17, 18, 71, 72, 147, 149 Observer, from SC/ST/OBC 75, 117, see
micro-aggressions 164 also supervisors
Miller 74 Oommen, T. K. 17
Ministry of Human Resource open category 124, 127, 128, 163
Development (MHRD) 29, 130–1, open universities 43, 47, 60
156, 171, 176 oppression, 1, 65–6, 157
minorities 12, 19, 113, 143 Osler, Audrey 22
missionaries 4 Osmania University 13, 136
modern gurukuls 17, 64, 114, 151 Other Backward Caste (OBCs) 6, 14, 70–1,
modernization 9, 42 76, 88, 91, 94, 114, 116, 161, 172, 175
Moola, Vikas 161
Mumbai University 172 Pande, Mrinal 169
‘#MurderOfMerit’ 163 Pandey, Priyanka 24
Murmu, L. R. 80 Parliamentary Standing Committee for
Mustafa, Faizan 152 SCs/STs 171
Muthukrishnan (Rajni Krish) 28, 78, 104, Parsons, Talcott 60
151, 161, 165; Moola on 161 Passeron 3
Patel, Tulsi 26
Nagaraju, G. 12 Patna University (PU) 30, 114, 172
Nageswara Rao, L. (J) 175 Patnaik, Prabhat 14
Nambissan, Geeta 66 patriarchy 118, 132
narratives 6, 26, 29, 118, 119–44, 153, Pavurala, Vinod 151
164, 173 Pawade, Kumud 65
Nash, Walter 4 Pawar, Tushar 161
National Academy of Legal Studies and pedagogy 13, 20, 61–2, 67, 75, 129, 168–9
Research (NALSAR), Hyderabad 139–41 perpetrators 159
Index 191
persons with disabilities (PWD) Rajiv Gandhi National Fellowship
candidates 76 (RGNF) 83–5, 119–20, 125,
Phule, Jyotiba 2, 8, 61, 158 127–8
Phule, Savitribai 8, 61, 158 Raju, Pulayala 151
Piketty 147 Ramabai, Pandita 2
Platt, Gerald 61 Ramana, N. V. 149
pluralism 60 Ramasamy Naicker, Periyar 2, 8, 132
Polluted Bodies 67–9 Ramaswamy, Uma 12–13, 99
Pondicherry Central University 172 Ramesh, J. K. 30
Poona Sanskrit College, by Chaplin, see Ranade, M. G. 8
Deccan College Rao, Srinivas 15
Poorty, Pushpanjali 30 Rathod, Bharat 22
populism 16, 60 recruitment: female teacher in Kerala 53;
positive discrimination 11 teacher in Delhi 53; teacher in Uttar
posters, as hostile 28; Smash Brahmanical Pradesh 53; of teachers 53; of teachers
Patriarchy 118 in Bihar 53; of teachers of SC females
Post-Matric Fellowship Scheme 10, 178 53; violation on 117
Post-Matric Social Welfare Fellowships 83 “Redesigning Affirmative Action” 14
poverty 9, 11–12, 19, 23, 115, 141 region 12, 14, 20, 25, 31, 68, 78, 80, 99,
‘power cube’ 24 126–9, 150
power-knowledge balance 8 rejection 22, 94, 150
predatory caste-based epistemic order 75 religion 7, 13, 20–1, 66, 68, 80, 105, 118,
pre-judgments 87 125, 127–8, 143, 148, 150
prejudices 7, 10, 13, 21, 29, 70, 82, 87, 89, religious minority 98
99, 121, 133, 143, 154, 157 repression, fear of 22
Premi, Kusum 10 Reproduction in Education, Society and
Presidency College 24 Culture 3
Prevention of Atrocities Act 1989 159, 163 reservations 5, 6, 11–18, 26, 53, 67, 69, 70,
primordial identity 66 75, 76, 94, 116, 118, 123–4, 126–8,
private institutions 47, 51, 170 136–9, 154, 163, 170, 172;
private universities 17, 60, 114, 172 second-generation beneficiary of 137;
privilege 1–4, 12, 73, 79, 113, 121, 124, students of 98, 99, 120, 136, 137
134, 140–2, 146 Revolution From Within 74
Program of Action of 1992 42 Right to Information (RTI) 76, 80, 171,
Promotion of Equity in Higher 175–6
Educational Institutions 171 Rita, Ghatak 11
protests 42, 64, 95, 104, 105, 125–6, 134, Rohith Act 129
152, 156–7, 159, 161, 173; action rote learning 61, 169
against 104; by female students 101; by rustication 27, 101, 130, 155, 158
female students in Aligarh Muslim
University 101 S. K. Thorat Committee Report 28–30,
public universities 18, 42, 157, 170, 176 78, 105, 114, 153, 159
punishment 101, 156, 159; for campus S., Rejani 30
activism 128, see also rustication Sale, Madhuri 30
pupil-teacher relationships 22, 43 Salve, Mukta 1
pure sciences 15, 94 Sandel, Michael 17
savarnas 32, 164, 165
quotas 13, 71, 124–5, 152, 157 Savithri Bai Phule Balika Shiksha Madad
Yojana 44
race/ethnicity 4, 13, 16, 19–20, 23, 68, 105, Savitribai Intersectional Study Circle 140
118, 148 Sayed, Yusuf 26
Radhakrishan Committee, 9 SC (Supreme Court) as sarcastic reference
Radhakrishnan Commission 42–3 to Scheduled Caste 128
ragging 28, 87 SC and ST budgets (SCP and TSP) 178
192 Index
Scheduled Caste/Scheduled Tribes/Other social media posts 32, 162
Backward Classes (SC/ST/OBCs) 6, 8, socially and educationally backward
11–13, 17–19, 25, 50, 52–3, 70, 78, classes (SEBC) 163
83–5, 99, 124–6, 128–30, 132–3, 171–7; socio-cultural: apartheid 17; capital 3, 17,
candidates 76, 116; enrolment of 44, 105, 114, 146
47; focused scholarships 138; Soudien, Crain 26
self-sponsored technology students 114; Srinivas, Matta 89
scoring fewer marks 75; Thorat on star/asterisk/# marks to indicate SC/ST
prejudiced treatment on 29; as students 70, 82, 88, see also casteist
underprivileged 42 epithets
SC/ST Cells 121, 126, 130–1, 140, 172–3 state private university 43; SC teachers in 60
SC/ST Commission 122, 130–1, 171 state universities 22, 31–2, 51, 81, 84,
SC-Bahujan groups 16, see also Bahujan 89–90, 92–5, 98, 100, 104
Student and Social Justice Forums Steinem, Gloria 74
Scheduled Tribe (ST) 6, 11–12, 15, 17, 19, stigmatization 15, 23, 25–6, 29, 32, 64, 68,
70, 77, 80, 87, 116, 135–6, 141, 161–2, 117, 119, 143, 150, 173
172, 175–6 ‘structural inequalities’ 19
scholarships 32; 50, 83–6, 123, 134, 138, student union 87, 154
164; disbursement of 86; ridiculing 84 students of SC/ST/OBC, 116, 164:
Science, Technology, Engineering and discrimination against SC 15;
Mathematics (STEM) courses, women metropolitan 105; Premi for
and SCs shunted from 43 professional courses SC 10–11,
segregation 22, 98, 141; in hostels 99 14–15, 27, 29–32, 43, 50–1, 62, 70,
self-preservation 137 77–80, 82–4, 86–9, 99–101, 105, 120,
Sen, Amartya 2 127, 129–30, 159, 171–6, 178
Senior Research Fellowship (SRF) 123 Students Welfare Association of JNU,
Senthil Kumar Solidarity Committee 14, for revaluation of thesis by SC/ST
80, 94 students 75
sexual exploitation/harassment 22, 69, 96, Students’ Federation of India (SFI) 157
123, 127 students-teachers-administration, upper
Sexual Harassment Cell 96 caste nexus between 102
Shantiniketan, Tagore 7 sub-caste issues 13, 126–7, 130
shared experiences 116 Subramanian, Ajanta 6, 71
Shinde, Tarabai 2 suicides 14, 20, 30–1, 64, 67, 83, 95,
Shrikant, M. 30 148–51, 155–6, 159, 161–2, 164, 168,
Shudras 1 172–3, 177; of Anand 30; assigning
‘silent revolution’ 22 reasons for 159; of Dalit female
Silver, Hillary 9 students 30; Durkheim on 147; in HCU
Simon Commission 8 28, 31; in IITs 30; by SC students 30; of
Singh, Jaspreet 30 Senthil Kumar 28
slut-shamed 127 Suman, G. 30
Smash Brahmanical Patriarchy 118 supervisors 83, 94–6, 98, 120–3, 125, 128,
social: class 2, 23; deprivation 20; 130, 134, 151, 155, 160–1, 173; gifts for
distancing 22, 77, 125; dominance 27, recommendations 123; support of 132,
65; groups 2, 12, 15, 20, 22, 173; see also teachers
inequalities 11, 19, 61; interaction 1, 9, suspensions 102, 104, 105, 123, 156–9; of
25; isolation 19, 101, 119; justice 13–14, ASA students 158
17, 26–7, 61, 99, 116, 128, 157; rejection suspicion 10, 21, 78
23; reproduction 3–4, 16; segregation Swift 74
22; solidarity 27; space 20, 22, 24 Syam Kumar, D. 30
social capital 2, 4, 9–10, 21, 29, 73 systemic discrimination 28, 29
social exclusion 4, 9–10, 12, 19–20, 22–3,
25–6, 67; De Venanzil on 26; DFID Tadvi, Payal institutional murder of 105;
definition of 21 suicide of 28, 151, 173
Index 193
Tagore, Rabindranath 8 untouchables 4, 82, 113, 146
“Tam Brahms” (Tamil Brahmins) 6, 71, upper caste capital 140
136, 139, 164 upper castes 5, 16–17, 28, 32, 64, 69, 72,
teachers 16–20, 23–4, 27–9, 66–7, 69, 82–3, 102, 119, 123–8, 138, 153;
70, 82–3, 88–9, 91–2, 94, 97, 114–15, Deshpande on 4, 5, 28; students 22, 66,
120, 129, 132–4, 177; differential 71, 82–4, 88–90, 93, 96, 102, 114, 123,
treatments by 79; favouring religion or 125–9, 163; teachers 67, 69, 82, 86, 88,
community 129; help from 131; 96, 123, 125–7, 129
recruitment of SCs 53, 60; 121, 129; of urban-rural divide 168
upper caste 89
teacher-student relationship 127 Valmiki, Om Prakash 65
Tharakam, Bojja 156 Vandana 22
Thass, Iyothee 8 Varalakshmi, G. 30
Thirumal, P. 16, 67 Vardhaman Mahavir Medical College,
Thorat, S. K. 29, 75, 99, 170 Delhi, failing SC/ST students in 79
Tilak, J. B. G. 15 varnashrama dharma 88, 139
tokenism 98, 140 Veghda, Ankita 30
Topiwala National Medical College, Velaskar, Padma 12, 77
Mumbai 162 Vemula, Radhika 29
traditions 20, 169 Vemula, Rohith 28, 29, 95, 104, 130,
tribals 68, 72, 98, 113, 116 151–2, 155–9, 165, 173: and caste status
trickle-down approach 8 75; institutional murder of 92; suicide
Trouillot, on history and power 113 of 15, 64, 118, 120
Tsundur caste carnage 27 Venkatesh, Madari 70, 95, 151
Twenge, Jean M. 23 Verma, Vidhu 19
Vidyasagar, Chandra 8
“Umar Khalid, My Son” 152 violations: of constitutional provisions
underprivileged 12, 19, 42, 147, see also 152; of human dignity 23
untouchables violence on SC/ST students 25, 27–8, 95,
unequal societies 14, 17, 61 132; and life threats 89; physical or
Union Public Service Commission verbal 22; protest against 157;
(UPSC) 18 structural 19; see also suicides
United Dalit Students Forum 104 vishwaguru 170
universities caste inequity in 29; and viva voce examination and SC/ST students
dualisms of society 10; Habermas 31, 62, 75–9, 81–2, 92, 102, 125–6,
on functions of 61; marginalized 128–9; made to failing in 79–81; as
communities access to 62; for progress humiliating 83
of society 61; and social exclusion 10; Vulliamy, Graham 22
teaching positions 96
University Education Commission of Watling, Rob 22
1948–49 (Ramakrishnan Commission) 42 Webb, Rosemary 22
University Education Report 42 Webster, Elaine 23
University Grants Commission (UGC) 17, White, Barbara Harris 66
21, 30, 75–7, 116–17, 130–1, 168, 170–2; Whitehead, Colson 170
Basic Scientific Research Fellowship Wilkerson, Isabel 177
(BSRF) 119; regulations 76, 77, 171; Wilson, Rainn 73
JRF 83; Regulation on Equity 80; women 1, 4, 12–13, 19, 43, 53, 61, 68–9,
reservations and 17 74, 92, 113, 157, 176
University of Hyderabad 13–15, 27–30, 64,
92, 135, 155, 157 Young, Michael 178
university system 11, 61, 102; Youth for Equality 152
Viswanathan on 7 Youth for Social Justice 26, 104

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“A philosophically, theoretically and empirically well organized book which

“Rigorously researched and persuasively argued, ‘Caste Discrimination and Exclu-

N. Sukumar teaches Political Science at Delhi University, India. His area of

ISBN: 978-0-367-55689-1 (hbk)

1 Caste and the Academia 1

Appendix: RTI Table 180

1.1 Details of the Selected Institutions, Courses and Gender 33

The Indian Constitution recognized the past injustices of untouchables and

For a ﬁrst-generation quota’s child who gate-crashed into academia, without

ABVP Akhil Bhartiya Vidyarthi Parishad

Understanding Caste as Capital

Hands versus Brains: Educational Apartheid in India

That was for people in other engineering colleges. We had a greater

The university system is deﬁcient in what Visvanathan called the fraternal

An impression appears to have gained ground, both here and in England,

Vidyasagar categorically advocated for conﬁning education to ‘higher classes’

Debating Exclusion in Higher Education

Social prejudice based on gender, race, religion, ethnicity, or caste exists in

Correspondingly, Satish Deshpande80 also argued about institutions failing to

The backward as a servant, ‘subziwala’, ‘dhobi’ or cobbler is all right, but

The ‘Deviant Body’ and the University

any distinction, exclusion, limitation or preference which has the purpose

The Department of International Development (DFID) deﬁned social exclusion

Elephant in the Room

Humanities Total 31 39 27 6 21 29 29 31 9 14 236

Gender * University Name * Current Course/Programme

PhD – Gender Female 0 0 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 1

The Idea of a University

The most important and urgent reform needed in education is to

and Institute Under

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2011–12.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2018–19.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) various years.

Table 2.10 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2011–12

Table 2.11 State Wise Number of Teachers in Higher Education – 2018–19

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2011–12.

Source: All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE) of 2018–19.

Birth as a Fatal Accident

“The isolation is worse at X university. There the upper caste professors

Divided Lives and Polluted Bodies

“When I joined MPhil course at Madari University, a service staﬀ member

Instead of the merit vs non-merit dichotomy, we should recognize the pro-

“This is how they engaged in social smuggling,” he says, explaining the

We’re a privileged bunch in many ways. Most of us have come from

In the opinion of this court, the entire weightage to performance of a can-

Thus, upholding constitutionally mandated reservations in admissions the

When equality is denied everything is denied. There is no equality in M.

Students who mention Buddhist or Christian on their certiﬁcates are viewed

The government set up a high-level committee to look into allegations of dis-

In order to handle such crises in academic spaces, the UGC Regulation on

i) By announcing, verbally or otherwise, in the class, the names of the caste,

The Act also emphasized preventing discrimination on caste lines in evalua-

Table 3.1 Discriminatory Attitude of Teachers Towards SC Students in Viva/Interviews

Table 3.2 Reasons for Discrimination During Viva/Interviews

Another respondent mentioned,

A respondent from an institution which claims to be highly progressive