The Dalit Project

Power

The EU Has Leverage on Caste. It Must Use It.

By Editor

Interior view of the main chamber (hemicycle) of the European Parliament building in Brussels.
Profpcde via Wikimedia Commons

In April, the European Parliament held a hearing on caste discrimination. In June of the previous year, six human rights defenders from South Asia had traveled to Brussels to tell EU officials what was already documented: that millions of people across the region face systematic oppression rooted in birth. The April hearing brought together UN experts, Dalit activists, and officials from the European External Action Service. Everyone in the room agreed the crisis was real. What remains unresolved is whether the European Union will do anything about it.

This is not a gap in knowledge. It is a gap in will.

The European Union possesses concrete leverage over caste-based discrimination in South Asia: trade mechanisms that govern market access, development funding that runs into billions, and human rights conditionality embedded in diplomatic engagement. The tools exist. What is missing is the institutional decision to use them.

For thirteen years—since the 2013 European Parliament resolution on caste discrimination—Parliament has called on the European Commission and the External Action Service to integrate caste concerns into EU trade, development, and human rights policy. The call has been answered with bureaucratic silence. The April 2026 hearing was meant to break that silence. The question now is whether it will.

The IDSN delegation that visited Brussels in June 2025 made the intellectual and moral case. Six human rights defenders from marginalized-caste organizations across South Asia convened for a week of strategic meetings: Dharsika Sivapragasam from the Human Development Organization in Sri Lanka, whose research on intersecting discrimination faced by minority women cuts through platitudes about "inclusion"; Mary James Gill from Pakistan's Centre for Law and Justice, whose campaign "Sweepers are Superheroes" forced international attention to the dignity and safety of sanitation workers; Swapon Das from DALIT Khulna in Bangladesh; Sushil BK from the Dalit NGO Federation in Nepal; and representatives from India's National Dalit Christian Watch and the Esther Foundation/National Federation of Dalit Women.

These were not observers seeking a seat at the table. They were experts offering knowledge rooted in decades of organizing and documentation. They sat across from officials from the EEAS, members of the European Parliament, the European Commission, and international NGOs, describing how caste-based exclusion systematizes access to justice, education, and dignity. The message was straightforward: Europe already understands caste discrimination is real. The problem is not ignorance. It is indifference disguised as jurisdictional complexity.

What Europe could do, and why it matters, is concrete:

The most direct tool is the EU's Generalized Scheme of Preferences Plus—GSP+. This trade mechanism grants duty-free access to the European market for low- and lower-middle-income countries that ratify and enforce international labor and human rights standards. India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal, and Sri Lanka all depend on or seek this preferential access. For these countries, European market access is not abstract aid. It is economically consequential. Yet currently, GSP+ conditionality contains no explicit monitoring of caste-based discrimination in labor practices, supply chains, or social policy. It should. Caste discrimination fuels modern slavery and child labor in South Asia's textiles, leather, agriculture, and construction sectors that export heavily to Europe. By conditioning preferential trade access on caste discrimination monitoring—requiring evidence of government enforcement of anti-caste provisions and civil society protection—the EU could create direct economic incentives for policy reform.

Second, the EU's development cooperation framework distributes billions in education, health, and governance assistance across South Asia. These funds should be explicitly conditioned on measurable progress in reducing caste-based discrimination in schools, hospitals, and courts. Today, EU development money flows to South Asian governments without disaggregated monitoring of how caste-affected populations benefit—or whether they are systematically excluded. This is not neutrality. It is enabling the status quo.

Third, the EU's structured human rights dialogues with South Asian countries should incorporate systematic questioning on caste discrimination enforcement, protection of Dalit human rights defenders, and access to justice for survivors of caste-based violence. These dialogues occur; they have formal mechanisms. Adding caste as an explicit baseline would cost nothing in bureaucratic terms. It would cost political capital only in the countries that prefer caste discrimination to go unexamined.

The April 14, 2026 hearing before the European Parliament's Subcommittee on Human Rights featured testimony from Ashwini K.P., the UN Special Rapporteur on contemporary forms of racism, who stressed the need for an intersectional approach recognizing how caste compounds with gender and poverty to create distinct forms of marginalization. The hearing was convened by MEP Mounir Satouri of the Greens/EFA. It was the most significant moment for caste recognition in European institutional history. It revealed something crucial: Europe's elected representatives are ready. Its executive branch is not.

The barrier is not lack of Parliamentary direction. Parliament has repeatedly called for systematic EU action on caste. The barrier is the European Commission and EEAS, which have treated caste as a specialized development footnote rather than as a systemic human rights question that shapes every labor standard, trade agreement, and diplomatic conversation Europe conducts in South Asia.

One objection deserves direct response: the argument that caste is too culturally specific, too entangled with Hinduism or regional tradition, to be a matter of European concern or jurisdiction. This argument is historically familiar. It echoes the logic once used to defend apartheid as South Africa's domestic affair and redlining as America's internal racial practice. Caste discrimination today operates across labor markets, corporate supply chains, and international trade—all of which Europe actively shapes. To say caste is culturally specific and therefore off-limits is to say that human rights apply selectively, to certain forms of oppression but not others.

What concrete EU action would look like is not mysterious:

The EU should adopt a dedicated resolution on caste discrimination in 2026 or early 2027, updating the 2013 resolution with expanded scope across human rights, trade, development, and supply-chain accountability. It should establish dedicated focal points on caste discrimination within the EEAS and the European Commission. It should conduct systematic assessment of existing trade agreements' impacts on caste-affected populations and integrate caste-discrimination monitoring into GSP+ biennial review processes. It should fund independent documentation of caste-based discrimination in European supply chains and commission external monitoring reports.

Most importantly, Brussels must listen. The IDSN delegation was not seeking permission. It was offering expertise. When Dharsika Sivapragasam documented intersecting discrimination, when Mary James Gill demonstrated how dignity and economic justice are inseparable in sanitation work, when Swapon Das, Sushil BK, and the Indian delegates described caste's operation in their national contexts—they were teaching. European officials heard this. The question is whether the institutions that make trade and development policy will act on what they have been told.

The International Dalit Solidarity Network and allied Dalit-led organizations have spent decades building the intellectual and organizing infrastructure to make this moment possible. The April hearing proved that infrastructure works. Europe's Parliament understands. Its institutions have the tools. What remains is the decision to use them—not as an afterthought to development policy, but as a central question of human rights and economic justice.

Delay is itself a choice. So is action.

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