The framers of our Constitution recognised this behavioural relationship. They saw in the Constitution the opportunity to broaden our identity and to thereby alter the dynamics of social relations. Prior to it identity was defined essentially within a social context. People knew their position within society. Caste determined who they met, where they ate; whom they married, etc. Social identity determined social rights. The Constitution stretched the context to cover political rights. Whilst recognising the reality of caste it supplanted it with the category of ‘citizen’ — a political identity that signaled a new freedom and a new equality and which found expression through the medium of universal adult suffrage. This was a deliberate decision taken by people like Rajendra Prasad and Nehru — individuals who knew what they wanted and who turned to the Constitution to give expression to their vision. Of course social identity did not dissolve, but from 1951 onwards it shared space with political identity.

Mandal had an equally seminal impact on identity. For it elevated caste from being something of largely local salience to something with a national scope. It became a common badge of economic value. It was the ticket to schools, universities, jobs, politics, etc. It joined the panopoly of identities that dominate behaviour today.

We have to recognise that identity cards have a chequered past. They can be and are used for important but innocuous purposes like determining whether a person should be behind the wheels of a car. They have also however been used for dastardly ends. Identity cards were what enabled Nazi Germany to single out the Jews. Information that empowers an individual does also empower a state. Ultimately therefore what redeems a card is the vision and purpose for which it has been designed.

... contd.