For millions across India, a rigid caste system thousands of years old still dictates much of daily life – from social circles to dating pools to job opportunities and schooling.

The Indian government has long insisted that the social hierarchy has no place in the world’s most populous nation, which banned caste discrimination in 1950.

So, it came as a surprise when Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s administration announced that caste would be counted in the upcoming national census for the first time since 1931 – when India was still a British colony.

Counting caste will “ensure that our social fabric does not come under political pressure,” the government said in its April press release. “This will ensure that society becomes stronger economically and socially, and the country’s progress continues without hindrance.”

The release didn’t include any detail on how the caste data would be collected, or even when the census will take place (it has been repeatedly delayed from its original 2021 date). But the announcement has revived a longstanding debate about whether counting caste will uplift disadvantaged groups – or further entrench divisions.

The proposal is so controversial because a caste census “forces the state to confront structural inequalities that are often politically and socially inconvenient,” said Poonam Muttreja, Executive Director of the Population Foundation of India.

The lack of caste data over the past century means “we are effectively flying blind, designing policies in the dark while claiming to pursue social justice,” she added. “So, the next census is going to be a historical census.”

What is caste?

India’s caste system has roots in Hindu scriptures, and historically sorted the population into a hierarchy that defined people’s occupations, where they can live and who they can marry based on the family they’re born into. Today, many non-Hindus in India, including Muslims, Christians, Jains and Buddhists, also identify with certain castes.

There are several main castes, and thousands of sub-castes – from the Brahmins at the top, who were traditionally priests or scholars, to the Dalits, formerly known as the “untouchables,” who were made to work as cleaners and waste pickers.

For centuries, castes on the bottom rung – Dalits and marginalized indigenous Indians – were considered “impure.” In some cases they were even barred from entering the homes or temples of the upper castes, and forced to eat and drink from separate utensils in shared spaces.

India tried to wipe the slate clean after it won independence from Britain in 1947, introducing a flurry of changes in its new constitution. It set up specific categories of castes, used to establish affirmative action quotas and other benefits – eventually setting aside 50% of jobs in government and places at educational institutions for marginalized castes. It also abolished the concept of “untouchability” and banned caste discrimination.

The decision to stop counting caste in the census was another part of this mission.

“After independence, the Indian state consciously moved away from enumerating caste … in the census,” said Muttreja. “They thought they should not highlight caste, and that in a democracy, it will automatically even out.”

But that hasn’t happened. Although the hard lines of caste division have softened over time, especially in urban areas, there are still major gaps in wealth, health and educational attainment between different castes, according to various studies. The most disadvantaged castes today have higher rates of illiteracy and malnutrition, and receive fewer social services such as maternal care and reproductive health, Muttreja added.

Social segregation is also widespread; only 5% of marriages in India are inter-caste, according to the India Human Development Survey. Similar divides linger in friend groups, workplaces, and other social spaces.

These persistent gaps have fueled rising demand for a caste census, with many arguing that data could be used to secure greater federal government aid and reallocate resources to the needy.

In some states – such as Bihar, one of India’s poorest states – local authorities have conducted their own surveys, prompting calls for Modi and his Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government to follow suit.

Now, it appears, they will.

Why now?

Modi has long pushed back on attempts to define the population along traditional caste lines, previously declaring that the four “biggest castes” were the poor, youth, women and farmers – and that uplifting them would aid the entire country’s development.

But rising discontent among underprivileged castes boosted opposition parties during the 2024 national election, which delivered a shock result: although Modi won a third term, the BJP failed to win a majority in parliament, diminishing their power.

Modi’s U-turn on the caste census, his rivals claim, is a political maneuver to shore up support in upcoming state elections, particularly in Bihar – a battleground state where the issue has been particularly sensitive.

“The timing is no coincidence,” wrote M. K. Stalin, the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu state and a longtime Modi critic, in a post on X. “This sudden move reeks of political expediency.”

Bihar’s own caste survey in 2023 found there were far more people in marginalized castes than previously thought, sparking an ongoing legal battle to raise the affirmative action quotas.

Several other states took their own surveys, which the federal government said in its statement were “varied in transparency and intent, with some conducted purely from a political angle, creating doubts in society.”

The main opposition Congress party celebrated the government’s announcement, claiming Modi had bowed to their pressure. BJP leaders, meanwhile, say the opposition neglected to conduct any caste census during their years in power, and had now politicized the issue for their own gain.

The previous Congress-led government did conduct a national caste survey in 2011, but the full results were never made public, and critics alleged the partial findings showed data anomalies and methodology issues. It was also separate from the national census conducted that same year, meaning the two sets of data can’t be analyzed against each other.

Though authorities haven’t said when the new census will take place, they have enough time to refine the methodology and make sure key information is collected, said Sonalde Desai, demographer and Professor Emerita of Sociology at the University of Maryland College Park.

After the census is complete, the next battle will begin: how to use that data to shape policy.

A controversial proposal

Not all are in favor of the caste census.

Opponents argue that the nation should be trying to move away from these labels instead of formalizing them. Some believe that instead of focusing on caste, government policies like affirmative action should be based on other criteria like socioeconomic class, said Desai, also a professor of applied economic research at the National Council of Applied Economic Research in New Delhi.

She supports the caste census, but said opponents might view such a survey as regressive, instead of helping to create “a society in which (Indians) transcend that destiny” defined by caste.

There’s another factor, too: if the census reveals that marginalized castes are bigger than previously thought, as was the case in Bihar, the government could increase how much affirmative action they receive, angering some traditionally privileged castes who already dislike the quota system.

Over the years, anti-affirmative action protests have broken out, some turning deadly – with these groups accusing the government of reverse discrimination, echoing similar controversies in the United States about race-conscious college admissions and job hiring. These same groups are likely to decry the caste census, Muttreja said.

Already, some opposition leaders are calling to remove the 50% cap on affirmative action quotas, and to implement affirmative action in other institutions like private companies and the judiciary – controversial proposals that have prompted online firestorms.

It might also show how the balance of power and privilege has shifted over the past century, said Desai. Since the 1931 census, some previously disadvantaged castes may have been buoyed by affirmative action and other measures – while other castes that once sat higher on the ladder may no longer be considered as privileged.

This is why, she argues, India’s government should use the data to perform a “re-ranking” – reorganizing which castes belong in which of the specific categories used to allocate resources and benefits.

The census could clearly illustrate who needs what kind of help and how to best deliver it, instead of relying on outdated data, said Muttreja. It can reveal intersectional gaps; for instance, a woman in rural India may struggle far more than a man of the same caste, or a peer in an urban area. And it could show whether any castes have ballooned in size, demanding more funding than currently allocated.

“It can shape school funding, for instance, health outreach, employment schemes and more,” she said. It “helps ensure that quotas reflect real disadvantage, not just historical precedent.”

Once that data is out there, Muttreja believes, the government will be forced to act – it can’t afford not to. And for those who still deny that caste discrimination remains rampant, or who argue that affirmative action is no longer necessary: “This data will stare at people’s faces.”

Hundreds of supporters of ex-President Evo Morales marched toward Bolivia’s top electoral court on Friday to push for their leftist leader’s candidacy in presidential elections later this year, a rally that descended into street clashes as police tried to clear out a group of demonstrators.

The confrontations come in response to a ruling by Bolivia’s Constitutional Court that blocks Morales, the nation’s first Indigenous president who governed from 2006 until his ouster in 2019, from running again in Aug. 17 elections.

The turmoil escalates political tensions as Bolivia undergoes its worst economic crisis in four decades.

As the march arrived in Bolivia’s capital of La Paz, protesters seeking to register Morales’ candidacy surged toward the Supreme Electoral Tribunal, chanting, “Comrades, what do we want? For Evo to come back!”

Security forces barricading a road to the court held them back. Police reported that the clashes between rock-throwing protesters and tear gas-lobbing police forces injured two officers, a journalist and a local merchant.

“They’re using firecrackers and rocks that are hurting our forces,” said police Commander Juan Russo. “This is not a peaceful march.”

The authorities did not report on any injuries among the protesters, who were seen being pushed onto the ground, shoved into police cars and blasted with tear gas. Morales had promised to attend the march Friday but did not show up.

The court’s unanimous decision Wednesday upheld an earlier ruling that bans presidents from serving more than two terms. Morales has already served three, and, in 2019, resigned under pressure from the military and went into exile as protests erupted over his bid for an unprecedented fourth term.

Morales returned to Bolivia a year later as the 2020 elections vaulted to power his preferred candidate, President Luis Arce, from his long-dominant Movement Toward Socialism, or MAS, party.

Arce, who announced earlier this week that he would not seek re-election, insisted that the Constitutional Court had disqualified Morales, his mentor-turned-rival, from running in 2025.

But many experts doubt the legitimacy of that decision in a country where political conflicts undermine the courts and presidents have maneuvered to get their allies on the bench.

“The Constitutional Court issues unconstitutional arbitrary rulings at the whim of those in power,” said Morales, who himself reaped the benefits of favorable judges while seeking to run for a fourth consecutive term in 2017.

After Morales lost a referendum seeking to do away with term limits while still in power, the Constitutional Court ruled it would be against Morales’ human rights to stop him from running for another term.

That 2017 ruling allows Morales to register his candidacy, said Oscar Hassentoufel, the president of the Supreme Electoral Tribunal. “Then the tribunal will decide whether he’s eligible or not.”

In defiance of the latest court ruling, Morales called a mass march that marshaled his loyal supporters in the rural tropics. They long have championed the Indigenous coca-grower for transforming the country during his tenure — redistributing Bolivia’s natural gas wealth and seeking greater inclusion for its Indigenous majority.

Although he had earlier promised to participate, it appeared that Morales remained holed up in his stronghold for fear of arrest on human trafficking charges that he claims are politically motivated.

The government confirmed that fear Friday. “We ask Mr. Morales to surrender voluntarily,” said Eduardo del Castillo, a key minister in Arce’s government whom the MAS party endorsed for president later Friday in place of Arce. “If we find him walking the streets, we will arrest him.”

Instead, scores of his supporters walked the capital’s streets on Friday wearing masks of Morales’ face.

“Evo Morales is each and every one of us. If they want to detain Evo Morales they would need to take every one of us, too,” said David Ochoa, a representative of the marchers.

Russia has sentenced an Australian man to 13 years in a maximum-security prison for fighting alongside Ukrainian forces, state prosecutors in the Russian-controlled parts of eastern Ukraine said Friday.

Oscar Jenkins, 33, was found guilty by a court in Luhansk of participating in an armed conflict as a mercenary, prosecutors said in a statement, after it ruled he had fought for Ukraine against Russia between March and December last year.

Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong said on Saturday that her government was “appalled” by the sentencing, calling it a “sham trial” and urged Russia to treat Jenkins in accordance with international humanitarian law.

Australia has repeatedly called for the release of Jenkins, who is originally from Melbourne, since he was captured by Russian forces in December.

“We continue to hold serious concerns for Mr Jenkins. We are working with Ukraine and other partners, including the International Committee of the Red Cross, to advocate for his welfare and release,” Wong said in a statement.

Russian prosecutors accused Jenkins of being paid between $7,400 and $10,000 a month to fight in Ukraine as a mercenary. The Kremlin maintains that mercenaries are subject to criminal prosecution and not entitled to prisoner-of-war protections under international law.

In a photo shared by the Russian-controlled court in Luhansk, Jenkins was seen standing in a glass cage with his hands behind his back.

The court ordered Jenkins to serve his sentence in a maximum-security penal colony, the prosecutor’s office said.

Jenkins is thought to have joined an international brigade among the Ukrainian ranks, according to Reuters. His arrest came to light late last year when a video surfaced on Russian Telegram accounts purportedly showing Jenkins being taken as a prisoner of war.

Speaking in a mix of English, Ukrainian and Russian, he identifies himself as “a soldier” and says he is a teacher in China and a student in Australia.

Earlier this year, media reports suggesting he might have been killed prompted Canberra to summon the Russian ambassador, with Prime Minister Anthony Albanese vowing the “strongest action” over any harm caused to the man.

Albanese said last month his government would continue to make representations to the “reprehensible regime” of Russian President Vladimir Putin on behalf of Jenkins.

Australia has repeatedly condemned Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and has given Kyiv close to $1 billion in assistance since 2022, while its military has provided training for Ukraine’s armed forces.

Police in the UK have charged three Iranian nationals with national security offenses following a counter-terror investigation.

The three men, arrested on Saturday, 3 May, have been charged with “engaging in conduct likely to assist a foreign intelligence service,” namely Iran, between 14 August 2024 and 16 February 2025, London’s Metropolitan Police said in a statement Saturday.

The men, aged between 39 and 55, have been named by police as Mostafa Sepahvand, Farhad Javadi Manesh, and Shapoor Qalehali Khani Noori.

They have been charged with engaging in surveillance and reconnaissance, with one man charged with the intention of committing “serious violence against a person in the United Kingdom,” the statement outlined.

The UK’s Crown Prosecution Service charged the men on Friday, and they are due to appear at Westminster Magistrates’ Court on Saturday. The investigation is being led by the British counter terrorism police.

Commander Dominic Murphy, from the Met’s Counter Terrorism Command, said: “These are extremely serious charges under the National Security Act, which have come about following what has been a very complex and fast-moving investigation.”

A fourth man, aged 31, who was arrested on Friday, May 9, has been released without charge.