In Bihar, the election season has already begun, not just in rallies or party meetings, but in everyday conversations. Sit in a tea shop or a village chaupal and you’ll hear people adding up their “numbers” – whether it’s the Bauri, Kapariya, Mallah or Momin – each community is talking about its share. This bottom-up churning, triggered by the caste survey, shows how even the most marginalised groups are stepping forward to claim visibility. Here, communities refuse to be spoken for; they insist on speaking for themselves and it is this new conversation on numbers that is setting the tone for the upcoming election. Caste competitiveness in Bihar has always been a double-edged sword, fuelling both empowerment and fragmentation; and the state has long been its most vivid champion. Earlier, statistics were presented in dry, contrasting terms, but today they spill into the public domain through leaders and their mobilisations. Take, for instance, the massive rally at Patna’s Gandhi Maidan, organised by the Indian Inquilab Party under IP Gupta, President of the All India Paan Mahasangh. Despite its scale, large enough to merit national headlines, it barely registered in mainstream media. Or consider Mukesh Sahni, leader of the Mallahs, who flatly rejected the census figure of 2.6% for his community and instead claimed 9%. His supporters even paid for newspaper advertisements to assert their number. Such moves show how numbers are no longer just figures in government records but have indeed become political weapons, deployed by leaders to sharpen caste competitiveness and carve out a stronger vote bank. This practice is not isolated. Across Bihar, communities are insisting that their numbers are undercounted, and they are making these claims not just within their groups but in the public sphere. The 2023 caste census was a landmark exercise, covering 25.8 million families across 38 districts and identifying over 200 castes on the Bihar government’s list. The results were revealing: nearly 184 castes were found to constitute less than 1% of the population each, while around 23 communities ranged between 1% and 5%. Only three groups crossed the 5% mark – Chamars (including Mochi, Rabidas, Ravidas, Rohidas, Charmarkar sub-categories) at 5.25%, Dusadhs (including Dhari and Dharahi) at 5.31%, and Yadavs, the largest single caste group, at 14.26% (up from about 12.8% in 1931).In contrast, the traditionally dominant upper castes appear much smaller in demographic terms. Bhumihars account for 2.86%, Brahmins 3.65%, and Rajputs 3.45%. Together, these groups add up to less than 10% of the state’s population. This demographic reality not only underscores the numerical strength of Yadavs and other backward communities but also intensifies the demands of smaller groups, who see themselves as overlooked in the arithmetic of power.The fragmentation of OBC politics after 2005 pushed the Most Backward Classes (MBCs) to the front of Bihar’s political stage. Their rise was not abstract. It came through concrete spaces of power: empowerment of panchayats and the recruitment of teachers. Since then, enumeration has made politics louder, more competitive, and more fragmented. Yet, paradoxically, it has also made democracy deeper. Even the smallest caste groups, once dismissed as invisible, now insist that they cannot be ignored. Caste arithmetic, however, operates in hyper-local, often contradictory ways. As Raj Narayan, Convener of Janhit Abhiyan, puts it succinctly: “1% se kam sab jaati hai, toh mil-baant kar khana hoga hi” (When every caste is less than 1%, sharing becomes inevitable). That same logic of fragmentation has widened the base of participation, but it has also made political leadership more about delicate negotiation than sweeping mandates.This is where Nitish Kumar’s longevity becomes striking. Nearly two decades in power, he has avoided the fatigue that usually shadows long incumbencies. His survival has rested on affirmative action and careful social balancing. In 2006, reservations for Extremely Backward Classes (EBCs) in panchayats were introduced to 18% under provisions of the Bihar Panchayati Raj Act, 2006. It is noteworthy that Bihar today has 8,053 gram panchayats, 533 panchayat samitis, and 38 zila parishads, with nearly 1.15 lakh wards under them. These are not just dry statistics. They mark the direct entry of EBCs into local self-governance and power structure. On the ground, people often remark that Bihar’s real political “agency” rests with two figures: the mukhiya (panchayat head) and the teacher. After 2005, the largest benefits flowed through teacher recruitment, where nearly 4.5 lakh teachers were appointed – the most sizeable intake in recent memory, with around 18% from EBCs. It was not just in electoral alliances but in building everyday structures of empowerment that embedded EBCs firmly into Bihar’s political fabric. The state’s political arena has shifted from confrontation to bargaining, where leaders are not just responding to bottom-up assertions but actively reshaping them into today’s politics. As Nicholas B. Dirks reminds us in Castes of Mind, enumeration has never been a neutral exercise. Numbers do not simply record reality but in fact produce it. In Bihar, the census has not only created solidarity within groups but also sharpened divisions between them. That is why the stakes feel so high: numbers are now both bridges and weapons.History offers a reminder. The last caste census before 2023 was in 1931. Within three years, the Triveni Sangh emerged as a coalition of Yadavs, Koeris and Kurmis, directly challenging upper-caste dominance in politics, especially in Shahabad District of pre-independence Bihar. The party, though securing some victories in the 1937 elections at places like Arrah and Piro, soon declined under the weight of violent backlash from upper castes, internal rifts among allies, and the Congress’s stronger organisation.Nearly a century later, the echoes are unmistakable. But unlike in the 1930s, caste politics today is being shaped in far more dynamic, everyday ways – not confined to rallies or manifestos, but forged in tea shops, chaupals, and street-corner debates, where even the most marginalised are asserting their voices and demanding direct representation in electoral politics and decision-making bodies of the power structure. The coming election will determine who succeeds in converting these numbers into greater participation in the Bihar Legislative Assembly and its power structure.Sanjay Kumar is the founder of Deshkal Society and co-editor, Interrogating Developments: Insights from the Margins (Oxford University Press)Shruti is an independent researcher.