What is your caste?: Why does this question refuse to leave us even overseas?
Caste Discrimination: Caste does not stop at India’s borders. Through the experiences of the Indian diaspora in Germany, this essay examines how caste hierarchies shape social belonging, access to international education and migration and everyday interactions—even in communities thousands of miles from home.
Caste is a complex subject, encompassing diverse histories and forms of discrimination that cannot be adequately discussed in a short piece. Keeping in mind the limited scope of this article, I look at ‘caste’ in broader terms, underscoring how caste-based hierarchies keep shaping access to international migration and continue to affect the members of the Indian diaspora in Germany.
“What is your caste?”
And other different variations of the same question might sound like an ordinary one to someone unfamiliar with the caste system, but to an Indian who is aware of the socio-political history of the caste system, the question can come across differently. It can instantly lead to other questions like, “Why do they need to know?” “What will they do with this information?” “Does my caste determine how they see me?” “Does it decide where I belong within this community?” “Does it change the way they will interact with me now?”
This difference in how the question is heard is precisely what is important.
As part of my doctoral project, I work with members of the Indian diaspora in Germany. More often than not, caste comes up in our conversations either directly, like the way a Gujarati woman living in Berlin was asked about her caste when she attended a Gujarati community gathering; or indirectly, through discussions on belonging and access to social networks in Germany.
Caste is not socially legible to the majority of the German population, including state institutions. It is because caste is not indicated through recognisable markers. The German anti-discrimination law (Allgemeines Gleichbehandlungsgesetz , AGG/ General Act of Equal Treatment) does not address discrimination on grounds of ‘caste’. As a result, caste-based discrimination experienced by Indians (or other South Asians) in Germany tends to be merged with broader categories like race or religion. Sections of the Indian diaspora might often promote an image of a shared Indian identity that transcends social differences overlooking internal hierarchies and inequalities, but caste-based power relations keep functioning in private
and semi-private spaces beyond the reach of institutional scrutiny of the host country. Groups like South-Asian Scholars and Activists Solidarities (SASAS) and the Dalit Solidarity Network among several others are working to address and dismantle caste-based discrimination in Germany and other European countries. Other organisations like Equality Labs, founded in 2015, documents caste-based discrimination in the United States. Their work has been integral in the passage of California’s Senate Bill 403 in August 2023, that added ‘caste’ as a protected category under the civil rights law.
We have just celebrated Durga Puja, a festival that supposedly brings people together across class, caste, religion and for the Indian diaspora, geographical borders. But festivals and religious gatherings can keep generating social hierarchies. I am reminded of an interview with a Bengali postgraduate student based in Germany. Recounting her experience at a Durga Puja gathering in Cologne a couple of years ago, she described feeling unwelcome. Although nobody directly asked her not to participate, she sensed that some community members were not keen on including her for activities such as cutting fruits for the offerings or decorating the ghawt (ritual pot) that is placed before the idol, etc. She knew the others noticed that she was not a Brahmin after getting to know her surname. This was a possibility she saw coming. Having
experienced similar discrimination in India, she was not really shocked, but was indeed surprised that caste-based exclusion remained significant even among Indians in Germany.
Such incidents give us a peek into how caste hierarchies can get re-produced within diasporic spaces, influencing who is included, who is not, and on what terms. But the effect of caste on migration begins long before a person arrives in another country. While many marginalised caste students and professionals have started sharing experiences of exclusion or stigma bringing the issue into public view in Germany; numerous members of the dominant upper-caste Indian diaspora dismiss discussions around caste calling it “redundant”. The coexistence of these viewpoints in Germany show that the significance of caste varies by region of origin, the nature of their migration, class and education.
The German Academic Exchange Service/ Deutscher Akademischer Austauschdienst (DAAD) recorded 69,816 enrolled Indian students in German higher education institutions in the 2024-2025 winter semester, making them the largest international student group in Germany. For many Indians, Germany represents the possibility of pursuing a better future. Many of those who migrate to Germany have already navigated an unequal social landscape back in India, and crossing national borders may only alter the contexts in which these hierarchies function. This is not discussed enough in literature on international migration, especially in the context of Germany. And this is where the Indian diaspora in Germany becomes an important site of
inquiry, considering that Germany has the largest Indian population among European Union (EU) member states at present. How caste travels and with what consequences for those who continue to live with it even in a foreign land become important questions to address.
Ajantha Subramanian may primarily study engineering education in India and not migration itself in her 2019 book The Caste of Merit, but her work shows how caste privilege continues to travel across borders. Nidhi Kanaujia’s account, published in Outlook (2023), looks into how access to international education can depend on financial support that is not always equally available to everyone in India. For a Dalit, first-generation learner like Kanaujia, the Rosa Luxemburg Stiftung Foundation scholarship made it possible for her to pursue postgraduate studies in Germany. Her story prompts us to consider what happens to students like her when scholarships are reduced or funding opportunities are withdrawn. For students from marginalised caste communities, limited access to inherited wealth and other assets can make international education difficult to pursue. Even though opting for bank loans is not determined by caste alone, uneven access to economic resources can very well contribute to the inequalities produced by caste-based exclusions. The growing cuts to scholarships and other forms of public funding can make international education accessible only to those who can afford it. This is not to suggest that every upper-caste Indian is economically privileged or that caste and class are interchangeable. Instead, it is crucial to understand that caste-based marginalisation can intersect with economic disadvantages, limiting access to specific resources
required for international migration. Cuts to funding do not necessarily target members of the marginalised communities, but their consequences can be unevenly felt, particularly by students already disadvantaged by caste (and class) inequalities in India.
The fight against caste discrimination has been a long one and continues to remain a tough one, especially now that the Hindu nationalist discourse is gaining prominence across borders, maintaining a unified Hindu identity while omitting the varied inequalities within it.

