Indian cricket is celebrated as the great leveler, where batting averages and bowling figures matter more than backgrounds. But beneath the surface, caste remains an unvoiced actor—most visible at grassroots and early-stage selection, affecting who makes it to state and national teams.
History Speaks: Direct and Indirect Exclusion
Caste bias in Indian cricket isn’t a recent accusation—it’s rooted in the sport’s early history. Palwankar Baloo, one of India’s first Dalit cricketers, faced overt discrimination. He was served tea outside the pavilion and denied captaincy despite being one of the best bowlers of his time. His brother Vithal also faced similar treatment, only rising to captain the Hindus team after public protest.
Despite social progress, representation remains dismal: out of over 500 cricketers in Tests and ODIs, only around five have been from Scheduled Castes—roughly 1%, even though SCs constitute about 20% of India’s population.
Cricket historian Ramachandra Guha and researchers Shubham Jain and Gaurav Bhawnani documented that between the 1950s and 1980s, nearly half of India’s Test cricketers hailed from six cities—often reinforcing upper-caste dominance.
Official Denials vs. Underlying Biases
Former selector and India captain Ajit Wadekar famously stated, “I have never seen any discrimination in the selection of players for the Indian team. The players who performed were selected.” Yet critics point to structural issues beyond overt bias: upper-caste dominance in BCCI leadership and selection roles that filters down through every tier.
The journalist Chetan Ahimsa called out this imbalance, arguing that cricket could be stronger and more inclusive if it tapped talent from underprivileged castes. And while BCCI considered a caste-based selection policy in 2008—proposing that 7 of the 15 squad members come from SC/ST/OBC communities—it never materialized.
Grassroots Gatekeeping
Bias shows strongest in district and Ranji Trophy selections. In states like Tamil Nadu, players from non-Brahmin communities recount systemic privilege: “Only upper-caste players get access to facilities and selection,” said one club cricketer about being overlooked despite captaining his city team. Coaches, he claimed, would often check for a “sacred thread” before endorsing a player.
While local cricket officials often insist selection is merit-based, community insiders describe a more complex picture—club politics, insider networks, and unspoken preferences remain common filters.
Structural Intervention or Freedom?
Some argue against quotas, saying they could undermine merit and morale in sports. As one commentary put it, cricket should reward form and ability—not be recast as a social instrument.
But observers point out the systemic barriers that block marginalized players from entry. As one Redditor noted:
“Cricket is expensive. SC/ST youth often lack economic means, relegate cricket to a luxury… and thus, representation remains low.”
Outlook’s Pragya Singh calls for a shift from complaining to reform—through transparent selection, improved grassroots access, and targeted talent development from disadvantaged communities.
Encouraging Signs—but Work Remains
While caste-centric exclusion isn’t overt, cricket’s governing structures remain rooted in privilege. The BCCI’s Talent Resource Development Wing (TRDW) has been a bright spot: launched in 2002 to scout talent beyond major cities and break urban-centric bias, it helped discover players like MS Dhoni and Suresh Raina.
But TRDW systems have waned, and caste is absent from current diversity metrics—leaving us without data to gauge real progress.
What Needs to Change
- Transparent mechanisms: Publish selection criteria and performance data at state levels.
- Proactive scouting: Reignite efforts like TRDW focusing on marginalized regions.
- Mentorship programs: Provide financial backing and coaching to talent overlooked due to caste or class.
- Leadership reform: Ensure representation from backward communities in cricket administration.
Final Thoughts
Indian cricket assumes meritocracy, yet legacy and privilege still linger. While overt casteism may be rare, systemic barriers persist—blocking equally talented players from marginalized groups. History shows—from Baloo to Kambli to Bedrock-era Brahmins—the face of Indian cricket has often been narrow.
If cricket wants to truly reflect India’s diversity, it must first confront deep-rooted social biases—anchoring change in transparency, access, and relentless meritocracy.