The process of addressing the Gurjjar sense of being squeezed out of benefits was begun by

various district administrations through analysing socio-economic data. It makes for fascinating reading. Despite the spread of Gurjjars in many districts it was only two that suggested an inclusion into the ST category. And those are districts where the Meenas reside in good numbers, and dominate. Sociologists mention ‘ritual hierarchy’ as one of the barometers for understanding a community’s condition. It is a curious term, but supremely relevant for an Indian analysis. So when the Gurjjar sees no difference between him and the Meena in a ‘ritual’ sense, but enormous differences in both economic and political, the seeds of resentment are sown.

To earn his livelihood, the Gurjjar has to leave his village, for there is no scope for him there. The landholdings are too small to sustain all the brothers. Educational standards being what they are, he has little chance of getting that coveted sarkari job in Rajasthan, the OBC quota being over subscribed, and the ST quota not open. And if he happens to be from near Ranthambore National Park, he’ll see the land once reserved for his cattle as ‘common grazing land’ now has posh hotels, run by posh people, where posh parties are held all night. And his cattle starve. Life is tough in the district, so the only option left is what his ancestors have done for centuries, join the army.

It is not for nothing that some of the most moving veer rasa in Rajasthani is sung by the Gurjjar. Nor that one of Rajasthan’s Victoria Class winners was a Gurjjar. Or that many a highway truck would have Veer Gurjjar written behind it. For that is the sense of self. Which is now on the boil, and Gurjjars have a precedent for it, from that late 20th-century siege of Delhi.

... contd.