‘Annihilation of Caste’ was not merely a critique but a blueprint for a revolution of the mind and society.
The undelivered address by Dr B.R. Ambedkar in 1936 was considered so controversial that the conference was called off by the organizers—Jat-Pat Todak Mandal (Society for the Break Up of Caste system). When reached out by the organizers, Ambedkar famously noted that he “would not change a comma” from his speech.
Still, after the conference was cancelled, distraught and upset with this, Ambedkar published it as “Annihilation of Caste.” The essay resonated with Indian society so profoundly that almost nine decades later, it remains the most relevant document in Indian political and social discourse. Juxtaposed with India’s contemporary political and social scene, it pushes us to ponder its relevance and value. As India enters Amrit Kaal (Golden Period), a phase that aims to usher in Viksit Bharat (Developed India), let’s revisit this profound text on the birth anniversary of Ambedkar.
CONTEMPORARY RELEVANCE
At the heart of Ambedkar’s argument was the understanding that caste is not merely a social division—it is a structure of graded inequality that violates human dignity. He warned that caste was not just a division of labour but a division of labourers, fixed in hierarchy and sanctified by tradition. Ambedkar was never one to be seduced by symbolic gestures. He had no patience for the ceremonial gestures. His critique of caste wasn’t about surface-level reform but structural dismantling. He famously rejected hollow gestures like inter-caste dining as distractions, not solutions to real problems. What he demanded was far more difficult: the moral courage to tear down the social foundations that normalized hierarchy and masked cruelty as custom.
To India’s credit, the years after Independence did witness a surge of institutional will to build a more equal Republic. The Constitution—Ambedkar’s own legacy—enshrined equality and outlawed untouchability. Reservations were carved out to redress historical injustice. Laws were passed, rights were guaranteed, and access slowly expanded. These were not cosmetic changes but tangible, hard-won gains. But despite those strides, the problem Ambedkar diagnosed never disappeared, it only mutated. Caste today no longer announces itself as brutally as it once did. It rarely shows up in the language of open exclusion. Instead, it manifests subtly, yet openly. It may be invisible to those who benefits
POLITICIZATION OF CASTE
Despite the shallow disapproving of casteism, the political groups and parties today seem determined to preserve caste as a tool of political engineering. The current discourse around the caste census is a telling example. What could have been an exercise in social accountability is now being deployed as an instrument of electoral arithmetic.
The caste census debate reveals a troubling trend: a drift toward equating justice with headcounts. This is not what Ambedkar stood for. He demanded safeguards and representation as temporary correctives, not permanent templates for political identity. He imagined a society where individuals would eventually transcend the labels of birth and be judged by their capacity and conduct. Yet, the present caste census narrative implies the opposite—that individuals from reserved categories can never make it on their own unless the state ensures proportional power-sharing. This is a damaging, patronizing, and ultimately flawed premise. It suggests that those who have historically suffered discrimination still cannot succeed without continuous calibration of numbers—rather than systemic reforms in education, access, or opportunity.
And who makes this argument? Not someone from a deprived background but a dynast born into unearned privilege. His political prominence is not earned through merit or struggle to climb the greasy pole from the bottom to the leadership. Still, it has been, frankly speaking, bestowed by birth. Suppose he truly believes in correcting historical injustice. In that case, he should begin by renouncing the advantage of dynastic succession—the most entrenched privilege in Indian politics. Ambedkar, a scholar of jurisprudence, economics, and politics, rose despite every social and institutional barrier. He would have rejected this new discourse that subtly reinforces the idea that the marginalized cannot rise without crutches. Thus, emphasis must be on recognizing true merit that would inspire and motivate us to strive for excellence and resilience.
It should be clear that those who struggle against social odds to enter elite institutions or crack public exams are not diluting merit. They are merit. If pursued only as a tool of proportional empowerment without deeper reforms, the caste census risks calcifying identity. It diverts attention from structural change and hands politicians a new arithmetic to perpetuate caste, not erase it. This is not to say that caste data should never be collected. Transparency in policy-making is essential. But when the rhetoric around it becomes a political chorus rather than a developmental agenda, we must pause and ask: are we solving a problem or perpetuating it?
AMBEDKAR AND AMRIT KAAL
As India steps into the next 25 years, aiming to become a developed nation, the promise of Amrit Kaal cannot be limited to roads, technology, and exports. It must be a period of moral reconstruction and social renewal. A Viksit Bharat cannot be made on fractured foundations. This call for social renewal should instil a sense of hope and optimism in our collective future. The Modi government over the last decade has made tangible moves to shift the discourse from caste grievances to empowerment through access—whether it is Jan Dhan Yojana, Digital India, Ujjwala, Stand Up India, or PM Vishwakarma. These are not caste-specific schemes, but people-centric that benefited millions who were not part of the mainstream. This represents the desired move toward universal dignity without reducing people to caste labels. This is precisely what unsettles the Opposition. For decades, caste faultlines have been used as lifelines for political survival. Their narrative of eternal victimhood keeps these parties relevant.
However, the logic of Amrit Kaal demands a different politics—a politics of capability, not calibration. And, in such sense, the urgency is real. A fragmented society cannot innovate, or compete, let alone lead. The caste system is not just morally wrong but it is also economically regressive. It underutilizes talent, sustains inefficiency, and perpetuates exclusion. We talk about becoming an economic giant in the world, but can we achieve it with such political ecosystem where certain groups and parties are more interested in dividing society than uniting it? Indian economy of the future needs to be based on creativity, entrepreneurship, and human ingenuity, all of which requires fluidity of talent and inclusiveness of opportunity across the board. In such a scenario, caste-based labelling and political moves to sustain them are simply unwarranted and counterproductive.
To conclude, the “Annihilation of Caste” was not merely a critique but a blueprint for a revolution of the mind and society. Ambedkar spoke not just to the privileged or the oppressed but directly to the soul of India. His dream was not of revenge but of renewal, not of dominance, but of dignity. As we move toward 2047, we must ask: what kind of Republic will we be? One built on vote banks and birth-based entitlements? Or one where every citizen is empowered by opportunity, not boxed by identity? Ambedkar gave us the tools and Amrit Kaal is providing us with the moment. We now must find the courage and will to complete his vision.
* Prof Santishree Dhulipudi Pandit is the Vice Chancellor of JNU.