India’s jurisprudence on affirmative action and reservations can sometimes appear to be a veritable maze. On a plain reading of the Constitution, even for a trained lawyer, it can be difficult to glean the precise objectives that our policies espouse. Is there a fundamental right to reservation? Are our laws of reservation aimed at eliminating caste? Is our Constitution committed to a colour-blind theory of equality, or does it partake more substantive goals? Are reservations an exception to the general guarantee of equality, or are they written into the various promises for equal treatment made in the Constitution?
The Supreme Court in New Delhi. | Photo Credit: Sushil Kumar Verma
Adding to these rather more abstract questions are the myriad rules, formulae, divisions, and sub-divisions that occupy so much of our service law jurisprudence: from the “50 per cent rule”, “The Roster System”, and “The Carry-Forward Rule,” to whether reservations can be granted in matters of promotion, to the catch-up rule, and the question of how consequential seniority applies. These principles, invariably court-made, have also been overridden from time to time through constitutional amendments— those changes have, in turn, been subject to challenges, with petitioners claiming before the Supreme Court that the variations impinge on the Constitution’s basic structure.
Nitty-gritties of quotas
These debates and how they’ve played out have a deep bearing on the basic functioning of our governing institutions, and indeed our society. In a new book, These Seats Are Reserved: Caste, Quotas and the Constitution of India, the lawyer Abhinav Chandrachud tells the tale of these debates. He begins with the history behind quotas, which has its origins in British India, and takes us through different constitutional developments, from amendments made to judgments of the Supreme Court, to findings of commissions, in particular the Kalelkar Commission and Mandal Commission, and to the most recent development, the introduction of reservation for the economically weaker sections of society.
The students of Delhi University holding a protest against the police for attacking students during an anti-Mandal Commission agitation, in New Delhi in 1992. | Photo Credit: Sandeep Saxena
Through his admirable narration, Chandrachud lays bare not only the philosophical, jurisprudential, and political foundations for reservations in India but also the nitty-gritties of the system and how it functions on the ground. This includes an explanation of the various terms that partake our polity today. For example, Article 16(4) allows the state to make “any provision for the reservation of appointments or posts in favor of any backward class of citizens which, in the opinion of the State, is not adequately represented in the services under the State.” Article 15(4), on the other hand, allows for “special provision” for the advancement of “any socially and educationally backward classes of citizens or for the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes” — permitting, in the process, reservations in educational institutions.
How are backward classes to be identified? What do the subtle differences in the terms used in Articles 15 and 16 respectively denote? Chandrachud’s book is useful in expounding these intricacies. The book also breaks down hard concepts using examples, making obstruse terms accessible to the lay reader. For a lawyer writing for a general readership, striking a balance between precision and legibility can be a difficult task. But These Seats are Reserved more than achieves this balance.
These Seats Are Reserved: Caste, Quotas and the Constitution of India; Abhinav Chandrachud, Penguin, ₹599.
The reviewer is an advocate practising in the Madras High Court.
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