Some argue that since such a 42 percent quota violates an earlier Supreme Court judgment, the Congress knowingly took a technically flawed step only for political optics. But the argument itself is unsound. Reservation based on population proportion is a principle endorsed by the Constituent Assembly itself.
Published Oct 24, 2025 | 7:23 PM ⚊ Updated Oct 24, 2025 | 7:23 PM
Ministers of the ruling Congress themselves, along with opposition leaders, took part in the bandh.
Synopsis: The 18 October Telangana Bandh was a rare event in which almost all political parties declared their support. With demonstrations, rallies, and human chains across the state, even businesses and commercial establishments shut down. This massive expression of public opinion is significant, but if society at large so strongly desires something, why does that aspiration not materialise? If everyone claims to want it, who is blocking it?
For the first time after the formation of Telangana State, the bandh held last Saturday (18 October) achieved tremendous success and created history. It was a rare event in which almost all political parties of the state declared their support for the bandh.
Although the call was given by the Joint Action Committee of Backward Class (BC) organisations, all political parties—including the ruling party—participated in it. Ministers themselves, along with opposition leaders, took part.
Since the ruling party, that is, the government itself, cooperated with the bandh, buses of the State Road Transport Corporation stayed off the roads, educational institutions remained closed, and the bandh atmosphere was visible everywhere. With demonstrations, rallies, and human chains across the state, even business and commercial establishments shut down.
This massive expression of public opinion is significant in two ways. First, because a form of protest like the bandh—which was widespread in Telugu and Telangana society four decades ago but has almost disappeared now—has once again succeeded, we must understand its context and importance.
Second, if society at large so strongly desires something, why does that aspiration not materialise? If everyone claims to want it, who is blocking it?
If those obstructing it are the same ones who took part in the bandh, or if those participating in the bandh are themselves, directly or indirectly, responsible for the obstruction, then this moment calls us to recognise how topsy-turvy and hypocritical our political life has become.
If the political parties that jointly made the recent bandh successful have genuine intent, they should together approach the Supreme Court to annul the 50 percent cap. They should build a public movement around that demand.
A bandh is a form of satyagraha – a mode of civil disobedience and non-cooperation. The very Hindi term bandh, used throughout India, indicates that this is an indigenous form of protest.
It originated during the anti-British national movement and continued widely in post-independence India, at least until two decades ago.
Its objective is to bring public life to a standstill for a day—by halting educational institutions, transport, trade, and civic activities—and thereby exert pressure on the government.
Typically, a bandh is called by opposition parties or groups as a protest against government policies or social developments. The affected communities themselves, or political forces representing them, issue the call.
To thwart the bandh, governments deploy police – arresting protestors, using lathi charges, tear gas, rubber bullets, and sometimes even firearms. Whether a bandh succeeds fully, partially, or fails altogether, every bandh stands as a declaration of public opinion and collective anger.
Thus, bandhs occupy a crucial place in our political and social history.
In the erstwhile united Andhra Pradesh, the first two decades saw bandhs called by opposition parties – state-wide during the Visakha Steel agitation under the slogan “Visakha Ukku – Andhraula Hakku” (“Visakha Steel is Andhra’s Right”), or regionally during the Telangana and Jai Andhra movements, or occasionally on local issues, workers’ rights, and student demands.
In the post-Emergency democratic wave, particularly during student and youth protests against police atrocities in the Rameeja Bee case, bandhs spread widely and continued until the mid-1990s.
The first half of the 1980s, energised by radical and revolutionary student and youth movements, witnessed numerous bandhs across Andhra Pradesh and Telangana.
In 1992, the ban on radical student and youth organisations, and from 1996 onwards, the imposition of World Bank–driven policies turned Andhra Pradesh into a “zone of peace” where public protests were to be eliminated.
The World Bank’s instruction to suppress people’s movements, bandhs and demonstrations marked the beginning of an iron clampdown on popular agitation.
Around the same time, across India, the grip of globalisation and the rise of a new middle class led to a changing mindset – one that viewed bandhs and public protests as disruptive, anti-development, or even extremist actions.
Of course, bandhs always caused inconvenience to some, but earlier those affected understood and often sympathised with the cause. In the changing social values of the new millennium, however, the inconveniences themselves began to appear intolerable, especially to the expressive and articulate middle class.
Reflecting this shift in public sentiment, the Supreme Court began, from 1998 onward, to issue observations and judgments against bandhs.
In 2004, the Court held the BJP and Shiv Sena responsible for damages to public and private property during a bandh in Bombay, ordering the parties to pay for the losses.
In united Andhra Pradesh, however, the Telangana movement’s resurgence during that period kept the bandh tradition alive. After the formation of Telangana, under TRS rule, an atmosphere of police repression and harsh curbs even on legitimate protest silenced the practice.
In nine and a half years, not even two or three days of genuine bandhs occurred – that is hardly an exaggeration. Whenever a political party or people’s organisation called for a bandh, the government immediately deployed police to suppress it.
Against that backdrop, Saturday’s bandh—particularly since the ruling party itself supported it—could be seen as a hopeful sign that legitimate public protest may once again have space.
Or, one may see it as a mere political stratagem by the ruling party, with no assurance that such tolerance will continue.
From past experience, we can safely infer that the government’s positive stance last Saturday will not be extended to future protests by other aggrieved groups, communities, or political forces.
Now to the second issue – the root cause of the bandh: the demand for 42 percent reservations for backward classes—that is, the Shudra, productive, working and occupational castes—and the protest against those obstructing this just demand.
But who is making this effort? Is it being made sincerely? Who are the obstructers? And how could both the advocates and the obstructers stand under the same umbrella?
The Congress claims that it is striving to grant 42 percent reservations to BCs in education, employment, and especially in local self-government institutions. To demonstrate its intent, it has issued an ordinance, passed a bill, and promulgated a government order.
The Pradesh Congress Committee president, the chief minister, and ministers have all spoken in support of it. But do these actions and statements really aim to grant BCs 42 percent reservation? Or are they superficial gestures, while the real efforts required are not being made?
Some argue that since such a 42 percent quota violates an earlier Supreme Court judgment, the Congress knowingly took a technically flawed step only for political optics – a move it knew would be struck down.
They call it a bogus reservation, unconstitutional, contrary to the Court’s rulings – alleging that the Congress deliberately framed a legally untenable decision. If there is any truth in that criticism, the Congress has no moral right to have joined Saturday’s bandh.
Leaving aside the question of Congress’s moral right – the argument itself is unsound. “Jitni abaadi, utna haq” (“As much population, that much right”) is a democratic principle. Reservation based on population proportion is a principle endorsed by the Constituent Assembly itself.
The Supreme Court’s earlier judgment limiting total reservations to 50 percent contradicts this democratic and natural justice principle. Hence, that judgment must be reviewed and overturned.
If the political parties that jointly made the recent bandh successful have genuine intent, they should together approach the Supreme Court to annul the 50 percent cap. They should build a public movement around that demand.
Moreover, the same Supreme Court that imposed the 50 percent ceiling did not strike down the central government’s decision to grant 10 percent reservation to the economically weaker sections (EWS) among the dominant castes.
Why then does the restriction apply only in the case of BCs? This inconsistency must be debated nationally, public opinion must be mobilised, and a movement should take the issue up to the Supreme Court. That is the task before BCs—and before all political parties—today.
Finally, the BJP, which also participated in Saturday’s bandh, has even less right to do so. Who blocked the Congress’s bill and government order? What was the role of the Governor? How much involvement did the Central Government have? The President? The judiciary?
And overall, what was the role of the BJP? When both the Congress and the BJP—in power respectively at the state and the Centre—claim to support the BCs, what does that really mean?
In truth, neither of them—nor any other ruling party anywhere—genuinely desires to uplift BCs or ensure their rightful share. That is the crux of the matter. The so-called efforts and the obstacles alike are nothing but political farce.
(Edited by Dese Gowda)
