The Supreme Court, in the case of Chinthada Anand v. The State of Andhra Pradesh and others, recently ruled that individuals who convert to Christianity cannot claim Scheduled Caste status. This ruling suggests that when a person converts to a religion other than Hinduism, Buddhism, or Sikhism, they forfeit the protections granted to Scheduled Castes under the Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order, 1950.
The Court further noted that Christianity, by its very theological principles, does not acknowledge a caste hierarchy, implying that the protections provided under the SC/ST Act do not apply to those who have converted. However, this conclusion raises a more profound socio-political and constitutional question: does caste discrimination truly vanish when one changes their religion? The realities on the ground tell a different story.
Caste is deeply embedded in the social fabric of India, transcending religious boundaries. Although the caste system has its roots in Hindu scriptures, it solidified during British colonial rule and has since influenced every religious community in South Asia. Caste shapes social life not only for Hindus but also for Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, and Buddhists alike. It plays a significant role in determining access to land, education, employment, marriage, and basic dignity. Simply changing one’s religion does not erase the effects of social discrimination that are tied to caste.
Legal assumption vs lived experience
The fundamental legal assumption is that if a religion does not acknowledge caste, then caste discrimination should not occur. The recent judgment is based on several theological and legal premises - that Christianity and Islam, since their inception, do not recognise caste, and as a result, caste-based discrimination doesn’t exist within these faiths. This reasoning suggests that protections for Scheduled Castes are unnecessary after conversion. However, this is where the problem arises. Indian society functions not just on theological principles but also on social structures, historical hierarchies, and community perceptions.
In India, caste functions as a social identity rooted in a birth-based hierarchy. This system often comes with community perceptions, social stigma, and designated occupational roles, as outlined in Hindu scriptures. Inter-caste marriages are still largely frowned upon in many parts of the country, which contributes to the ongoing prevalence of honor-related crimes. Additionally, spatial segregation remains prominent; in numerous villages, families belonging to specific castes often live on the outskirts, further emphasising the divisions within society.
Therefore, conversion changes belief, and not social location.
Case studies
Across India, the lived realities of many challenge the idea that caste simply vanishes with conversion. In several villages in Tamil Nadu, Dalit Christians have reported facing exclusion from church leadership roles, being barred from participating in religious festivals, and even having to use separate burial grounds—despite sharing the same faith. In areas of Trichy and Salem, dominant caste Christians often hold sway over parish leadership, while Dalit Christians frequently find themselves shut out of shared spaces and decision-making processes. This caste hierarchy doesn’t even end with death, as separate cemeteries serve as stark reminders of ongoing social segregation.
Similar dynamics can be observed within Pasmanda or Dalit Muslim communities, including in parts of Maharashtra, where caste-like structures influence access to leadership roles, marriage networks, and social resources. Despite a strong theological emphasis on equality within both Christianity and Islam, social discrimination continues to echo the divisions of caste. These experiences make it clear that while conversion may shift religious identity, it doesn’t automatically dismantle deep-rooted social hierarchies. When discrimination persists, the assumption that caste disappears upon conversion becomes increasingly difficult to uphold. This raises important questions about equality, dignity, and the constitutional promise of social justice.
Ambedkarite understanding of caste
Dr BR Ambedkar’s early sociological work offers an important lens for understanding why caste does not disappear even after conversion into another religion. In Castes in India: Their Mechanism, Genesis and Development, Ambedkar clearly argued that caste operates as a social institution, upheld not only by religious beliefs but also by practices such as endogamy, social segregation, and community boundaries. He famously noted that “the essence of caste is endogamy,” describing it as “an enclosed class.” This highlights how caste identities are determined by birth and reinforced by social recognition. From this perspective, conversion may change one’s religious beliefs, but it does not automatically dismantle the deep-rooted social hierarchies. People often continue to inhabit the same social structures, marry within their caste, and uphold community perceptions that sustain their caste identity. Thus, Ambedkar’s analysis challenges the notion that caste simply vanishes with conversion, suggesting instead that discrimination can persist even when one changes their faith.
Structural contradiction in legal reasoning
Caste exists independently of religion in contemporary India. The prevailing legal perspective that suggests religion dictates caste, and that conversion to faiths other than Hinduism, Buddhism, or Sikhism eradicates caste-based discrimination, is misleading and fails to capture the reality on the ground. In truth, it is society that shapes caste. Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims continue to face discrimination based on their caste, even within their respective faiths, as numerous case studies have demonstrated.
This disconnect creates a significant gap in understanding the issue, as the law mistakenly assumes that conversion leads to the end of discrimination, while society remains entrenched in a caste-based hierarchy, regardless of religious affiliation. Consequently, Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims are stripped of legal protections, leaving them vulnerable to ongoing caste-based discrimination. This situation inevitably results in constitutional tensions and challenges.
Consequence of the gap between legal assumption and social reality
When courts operate under the assumption that caste ceases to exist after conversion, individuals from Dalit Christian and Dalit Muslim communities lose their Scheduled Caste recognition. This loss directly results in their exclusion from the protections offered by the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 2009. As a consequence, their access to reservation benefits is withdrawn, making it harder for these families to integrate into mainstream society, which is often facilitated by such reservations. Additionally, other welfare schemes meant for the Scheduled Caste communities become inaccessible to them. The fundamental issue remains unchanged: discrimination does not vanish simply because someone converts to a different faith. The oppression persists, and with the loss of legal protection, a structural imbalance is created.
If caste is a social construct, simply converting to another faith won’t automatically erase discrimination; it tends to linger in its original forms, often bringing along new challenges. When protective measures are lifted too soon, inequality continues to exist, hindering their development and social integration into mainstream Indian society. Therefore, removing legal protections without fostering social change only perpetuates inequality in practice.
When protection under the SC/ST framework is withdrawn on the assumption that caste vanishes with conversion, victims of ongoing discrimination find themselves more exposed within the legal system. It becomes challenging to prosecute caste-based insults, and proving social boycotts or institutional exclusion becomes a difficult task. Additionally, incidents of collective caste violence risk being downplayed as mere ordinary disputes within the general criminal law framework. This creates a perplexing situation where social vulnerability remains intact, yet legal protection fades away.
As a result, discrimination tends to go unnoticed in legal contexts, even as it continues to affect people's everyday lives. This produces a scenario of formal equality without achieving substantive equality. Two individuals experiencing similar caste-related harm may find themselves receiving unequal legal protection solely based on their religious affiliation, raising significant concerns regarding Article 14. The persistent experience of humiliation and exclusion, without sufficient legal recourse, undermines the constitutional guarantee of dignity found in Article 21. Ultimately, a framework originally designed to combat historical and structural oppression falls short, compromising the broader constitutional vision of social justice and transformative equality. Thus, legal assumption somehow becomes a practical injustice for Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims.
A close reading of the judgment reveals that the Court placed heavy reliance on Clause 3 of the Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order, 1950 and theological assumption that Christianity does not recognise caste. It also reiterates a 1950 order which states that persons professing religion other than Hinduism, Buddhism and Sikhism shall not be deemed Scheduled Castes, but it does not examine whether such a religion based classification continues to be constitutionally sustainable in India where caste operates as a social reality across communities.
The judgment reiterates that this exclusion is “categorical and absolute” which concludes that conversion results in immediate eradication of caste-based discrimination and thus loss of scheduled caste status. It does not sufficiently engage with the question whether caste-based discrimination persists socially after conversion. Empirical data, sociological studies, lived experiences of Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims who continue to face segregation, exclusion and social discrimination shows it doesn’t.
This reliance on constitutional formalism and theological reasoning, without addressing ongoing social disadvantage, creates a significant gap in the analysis. Moreover, the judgement does not consider how such communities, if excluded from Scheduled Caste protections, are to be safeguarded within the broader constitutional framework, nor whether alternative legal or policy mechanisms are required. As a result, the reasoning appears incomplete. Assuming that conversion eliminates caste-based disadvantage, without examining whether historical stigma and social marginalisation continue, raises serious concerns about equality, dignity, and the constitutional commitment to substantive social justice.
Protection should depend on lived realities
As Dr Ambedkar argued, caste is a social structure sustained through lived realities, not merely religious doctrines. When discrimination persists but protection is withdrawn, formal equality replaces substantive equality, weakening the constitutional promise of social justice, which further leads to the central question: if caste discrimination continues after conversion, why should constitutional and legal protection disappear? Should protection against historical and social oppression depend on religion or on the lived realities of discrimination?
The Constitution promises dignity, equality, and freedom of belief. When exercising freedom of religion results in losing protection from discrimination, the framework of social justice risks becomes conditional. Ultimately, if caste follows people across faith, the constitutional and legal protection must also follow lived oppression; the promise of equality under Article 14 remains incomplete.
Payal Gaikwad is a Nagpur and Delhi-based advocate working at the intersection of constitutional law, caste, religion and social justice.
Views expressed are the author’s own.