Time to confront caste bigotry with moral courage

Every now and then, the distasteful caste system rears its ugly head in India, often in its vast rural expanse where tradition continues to masquerade as morality. The recent allegation from Madhya Pradesh, where a man claims his village panchayat ordered a social boycott because he ate at a Dalit family’s home during a post-death ritual, is yet another reminder of how brittle our social fabric remains. India has undeniably travelled a great distance since Independence; it has built institutions, expanded opportunities, and emerged as a major economic and geopolitical force.

Yet, these achievements are marred by the stubborn persistence of caste bigotry – a relic so deeply embedded that it occasionally resurfaces with the force of primordial instinct. The endurance of such attitudes is not accidental. Caste continues to regulate ordinary interactions in many parts of the country – whose home one may enter, who one may dine with, and which rituals one may observe. Social sanctions like boycotts, though informal, carry enormous power in tightly knit village societies.

They function as extrajudicial punishment, reinforcing hierarchies that the Constitution sought to dismantle decades ago. The tragedy is not just that such practices survive, but that they thrive in silence, unchallenged by those who benefit from them. Economic life, too, remains scarred by centuries of stratification. Despite considerable growth, Dalit and Adivasi communities remain disproportionately represented in insecure, low-paying work. Access to land, credit and stable employment continues to be filtered through caste privilege in many rural districts. Poverty, in such cases, is not merely an economic condition; it is a social inheritance.

Even access to essential services reflects caste-inflected inequality. Segregated settlements, unequal treatment in schools and barriers to healthcare remain distressingly common in several regions. These everyday indignities receive far less attention than dramatic episodes of violence, yet they are no less corrosive. Nor is politics untouched. Electoral strategies often hinge on caste arithmetic, with parties selecting candidates and shaping alliances based on identity blocs. While caste-based representation has opened avenues for empowerment, it has also entrenched divisions when deployed cynically.

The result is a political culture in which caste becomes a bargaining chip rather than a structural injustice to be dismantled. Tackling this aboriginal practice requires something more profound than legal provisions, though the law remains indispensable. Strengthening the enforcement of the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, ensuring swift action against social boycotts and holding local officials accountable are essential starting points. But legal remedies must be accompanied by moral courage from society itself. Grassroots reform is crucial. Teachers, religious leaders, youth groups and civil society actors must challenge exclusion wherever it occurs. Celebrating examples of inter-caste cooperation – shared festivals, community kitchens and inclusive rituals – can help normalise the idea of equality that our Constitution enshrines.

Economic empowerment must also be pursued with renewed seriousness: land redistribution where possible, targeted credit, training programmes and entrepreneurship support can give marginalised groups the autonomy that discourages coercion. Ultimately, India must confront an uncomfortable truth: development and discrimination cannot coexist. A nation that aspires to global leadership cannot afford to be held hostage to such primitive notions of purity and pollution. The task ahead is not merely administrative; it is civilisational.