Classes Warfare

NEW DELHI â€" It was a widely awaited verdict: Tens of thousands of parents seeking admission for their children to nursery schools in New Delhi were hoping for some remedy against a system that rewards inherited privilege and access to political power. But the High Court of Delhi upheld the status quo on Tuesday.

Two years ago the India blog for The Wall Street Journal ran a piece entitled “Delhi’s Nursery Schools Still Tougher to Crack Than Harvard” The catchy headline was only partly true: New Delhi’s top private nursery schools are perhaps as competitive as an Ivy League college, but that’s not saying much about the means required to get in.

I should know: I spent the last month filling in application formsto 10 private schools for my three-year-old son, and he wasn’t admitted to any.

The Indian public school system is too dysfunctional to be a serious choice for most middle-class parents. As a result, the total number of applicants to the top 20 private nursery schools in New Delhi is well over 50,000 for about 1,500 slots. (This is my rough estimate.) Most parents have little or no choice over which school their children will attend. Rather, the question is which school, if any, will admit their children.

A few years ago, worried about the growing pressure to which children no more than four years of age were being subjected, the city government forbade entrance exams and interviews for nursery schools, as well as the screening of parents’ educational background. Before then, New Delhi schools openly sought out candidates whose parents were affluent, spoke English fluently and matt! ered in the city’s power hierarchy. A privileged class kept replicating itself.

In theory, the new norms suggested a more egalitarian process: They prescribed a point system, and a lottery would be drawn among candidates who were tied. In practice, this favored the old elite. A school could attribute points to a child who lived nearby, whose siblings were pupils or whose parents were alumni. The residency requirement benefited the rich because the best schools are in affluent parts of the city, and the legacy criteria only served those already entrenched in the system.

Some schools also went out of their way to bypass the law by creating subjective criteria for assigning points to applicants. One top school I sent an application to has a special category for the “Promotion of Indian heritage/Exceptional achievement/Significant inspirational work for the nation/Any other, please specify.” I have asked them to clarify what this means.

The new norms also created two sets of restricted sats. All schools were required to set aside 25 percent of seats for students from poor families, which in New Delhi are defined as having annual incomes of less than $2,500. Perhaps to compensate for the attending monetary loss â€" poorer students pay reduced fees â€" the city government also allowed schools to allot 20 percent of the total seats under a management quota free of any regulation.

While I have had no direct access to any school official who decides on such quotas, anecdotal evidence I’ve gleaned from other parents suggests that some schools are trading admission for donations of $40,000 or more â€" unless, of course, applicants are backed by ministers or powerful bureaucrats. Even schools that are less sought-after are asking between! $2,000 a! nd $3,000 just to register students who have been admitted. No receipts are being issued.

The Indian middle class, especially in a city like New Delhi, is a substantial and growing presence. But very few of its members have the means or the connections to secure seats in good schools for their children.

The new admissions system is only a pretense at nondiscrimination. As much as the old, it ensures that rich or well-connected Indians will continue to corner most seats in the country’s top schools.

Hartosh Singh Bal is political editor of Open Magazine and co-author of “A Certain Ambiguity.’’