As Mumbai prepares to welcome its favourite, Lord Ganesh, the administration is preparing for lakhs of people who might hit the city, demanding reservation.
At the centre of the Maratha reservation protest is Manoj Jarange Patil, whose ultimatum remains clear: grant a 10 per cent quota to the Maratha community under the Other Backward Classes category by August 29, or prepare for an indefinite march.
Playing a spoilsport for the protestors, the Bombay High Court, acting on a petition filed by the Amy Foundation, has put the freewill of protest at the behest of the authorities. The state's counsel warned the court that a mass agitation can bring the city to a standstill, especially when the police will be deployed for the festivities.
But why has this agitation taken over the state's political narrative for so long? Why has it shaped the performances of the alliances in the recently concluded elections? The answer to these questions is not in the last one decade, but in the centuries old dilemma over the societal positioning of the Marathas.
Farmers, Fighters, Fluid Identities
The Maratha identity has always been complicated. In many parts of the state, the line between Maratha (general) and Kunbi (OBC), the 'warrior' caste and their 'peasant' precedent, is very thin. A man could be a Kunbi farmer in one generation, and a Maratha warrior in another, thanks to the changing socio-political terrain of the region for the last 500 years.
The rise of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj in the 17th century, and his eventual coronation in 1674 transformed the disparate farming and warrior groups into a common caste identity, one that was known for agrarian roots and martial contributions. Under Shivaji Maharaj and his successors (Marathas and Brahmins), the 'Maratha' empire expanded its influence across the state - at one point controlling territory from Peshawar to Tamil Nadu.
Things changed rather quickly after 1761, following the defeat of Marathas in the battle of Panipant, the limited Maratha elites held onto their power as landlords, while in villages, the greater Maratha-kunbi mass continued to toil in the farms.
This change sits at the centre of the quota debate, today.
The Non-Brahmin Assertion
The anti-caste politics sharpened in Maharashtra by the late 19th century, when the likes of Jyotiba Phule, Shahu Maharaj challenged the Brahmin dominance and demanded recognition for non-Brahmin caste. Shahu Maharaj of Kolhapur institutionalised affirmative action, reserving seats in education and administration for non-Brahmins.
The Post Independence Dominance
The Marathas, numerically dominant and politically ambitious, led this movement. The momentum continued post-independence and translated into an unchallenged political dominance.
Maharashtra's Congress party was often a Maratha party by another name. From Yashwantrao Chavan to Sharad Pawar to Ashok Chavan, the state's chief ministers and power brokers were overwhelmingly Maratha. In electoral terms, they were the state's ruling class.
While the Marathas held a strong position politically, a similar pattern did not follow to the deeper parts of the state, mostly economically, where the Maratha farmers remained vulnerable to the cycles of monsoons, market and debt. The divide became more striking following every agrarian crisis in the state.
The Reservation Anxiety
For decades, this paradox has defined the Maratha position. Politically dominant, yet economically insecure. Socially proud, yet seeking recognition as backward.
The demand for reservations reflects that tension. By securing a share in education and jobs, Marathas argue, their youth can escape the cycles of farming distress. But since India's reservation system is tightly capped, the question is: under which category?
This is where the original Kunbi identity comes handy for their argument.
If the Marathas, as a whole, get recognised as Kunbis, they gain access to existing OBC benefits in the quota domain. For opponents, this is opportunistic, even dishonest.
For Maratha activists, it is historical justice: the British may have drawn the line, but the lived reality never separated Kunbi from Maratha.
In 2023, the state government opened a path for Marathas to obtain Kunbi caste certificates, a move that pleased some but angered others. OBC groups saw it as an encroachment. Marathas saw it as too little, too slow.
The Jarange Factor
Until 2016, few outside Jalna district knew the name Manoj Jarange. A grassroots activist, he built his credibility by fasting alongside farmers and demanding caste certificates for ordinary Maratha families.
In September 2023, his hunger strike catapulted him into the statewide spotlight, drawing massive crowds. A movement which dearly costed the Mahayuti in the 2024 Parliamentary elections, here they lost out of some key seats in the Marathwada region.
Jarange speaks the language of urgency. He rejects temporary fixes, insisting on a 10 per cent quota under the OBC category. His rhetoric has resonated with lakhs of Maratha youth frustrated by unemployment, failed harvests, and shrinking opportunities.
For the government, Jarange presents a dilemma. Conceding his demand risks alienating OBC groups and inviting legal hurdles.
More Than Quotas
But the Maratha agitation is not just about numbers and percentages. It is about dignity, recognition, and a community wrestling with its place in modern India.
Here lies the paradox: the same community that once built an empire and continues to dominate state politics now rallies under the banner of backwardness. In one breath, Marathas invoke Shivaji's legacy of warriorhood; in another, they demand a share of affirmative action meant for the marginalised.
This duality, of pride and insecurity, dominance and deprivation - is not a contradiction unique to Maharashtra. Across India, dominant agrarian castes from Patidars in Gujarat to Jats in Haryana have made similar demands. But in Maharashtra, where the Maratha identity is so deeply woven into history, the debate impacts a larger socio-political ground.
