Editorial

The decision to advance the Population Enumeration phase of Census 2027 in four poll-bound states—Uttar Pradesh, Punjab, Uttarakhand and Goa—while expanding the questionnaire to 40 questions has rightly triggered concern among former Census officials. Their warnings about data quality and possible linkages with the National Population Register (NPR) and National Register of Citizens (NRC) demand serious attention.

India’s Census has long rested on a foundational principle: the information collected is confidential and intended solely for statistical purposes that guide policy, planning and resource allocation. That principle is now under strain. The new schedule includes details such as parents’ names, places of birth and religion, spouses’ particulars, nationality, permanent addresses, Aadhaar, voter ID, passport and driving-licence numbers, bank-account counts, mobile numbers and COVID-19 vaccination locations. Many of these fields overlap with data already held in administrative databases and closely resemble questions used in earlier NPR exercises. Former Deputy Registrar General K. Narayanan Unni has noted that while any formal link remains speculative, the 1951 precedent—when Census schedules were copied to prepare the NRC in Assam—cannot be ignored.

Equally troubling is the risk to data quality. Advancing the count in states with large migrant populations, particularly Uttar Pradesh, risks systematic under-enumeration of workers who traditionally return home around the conventional March reference date. A longer, more intrusive questionnaire increases respondent fatigue and the likelihood of incomplete or inaccurate answers. Questions that serve little statistical purpose inflate the workload of enumerators without clear justification. The simultaneous introduction of open-ended caste enumeration, without a standardised list, further complicates accuracy.

The government is entitled to modernise the Census and collect caste data after decades of demand. It is also entitled to enforce citizenship laws through proper legal channels. What it must not do is allow the Census—India’s most trusted demographic instrument—to become a vehicle for population registration exercises that carry profound political and social consequences. Confidentiality is not a technical detail; it is the bedrock of public trust. Once that trust erodes, response rates fall and the data itself becomes unreliable.

Clear statutory firewalls, transparent explanations of every new question’s statistical necessity, and an unambiguous public commitment that Census information will not be transferred for citizenship verification are the minimum requirements. A Census that invites suspicion cannot deliver the credible numbers a diverse democracy needs. The concerns raised by experienced officials should not be dismissed as partisan noise. They are a call to protect an institution that has served India well for more than a century.

Chancellor Friedrich Merz’s sharp confrontation with the Alternative for Germany (AfD) in the Bundestag on September 9 marks a defining moment in Germany’s struggle with the far right. Days after the AfD’s near-majority triumph in Saxony-Anhalt—securing almost 44 percent of the vote while Merz’s Christian Democrats collapsed to around 17 percent—the chancellor refused to soften his language. He branded the party’s signature “remigration” policy a synonym for “ethnic cleansing based on origin and skin colour.” Merz’s intervention was deliberate and unflinching. He reminded the chamber that one in six skilled workers in Germany has a migration background. Implementing mass returns, he argued, would leave nursing homes empty, hospitals understaffed, and restaurants shuttered. The economic cost of such a policy, he insisted, would be catastrophic. At the same time, he drew a necessary distinction: those without legal right to remain must leave, but productive residents who contribute to German prosperity should not be targeted by origin or appearance.

The AfD’s response was predictable. Party figures insist “remigration” means only the consistent, lawful deportation of rejected asylum seekers and foreign criminals. Yet the term has a longer and darker pedigree in far-right circles, one that has repeatedly blurred the line between removing illegal residents and pressuring or expelling settled immigrants and even naturalized citizens of non-European origin. Voters in eastern Germany, frustrated by crime, cultural change, and perceived government failure on borders, delivered a clear rebuke. Merz cannot simply dismiss that anger.

Still, democratic leaders have a duty to name dangerous ideas for what they are. Equating enforced demographic engineering with ordinary immigration enforcement is not mere rhetoric; it is an attempt to normalize a vision incompatible with Germany’s postwar constitutional order and economic reality. The AfD’s simultaneous soft line on Russia further compounds the danger, positioning the party against core national interests at a time of geopolitical strain.

Merz’s decision to cancel a planned call with U.S. President Donald Trump after the latter celebrated the AfD victory underscored the point: Germany will not accept external applause for forces that undermine its democratic foundations. The chancellor’s coalition remains fragile, and the Saxony-Anhalt result is a warning. Yet clarity matters. Germany can enforce its borders rigorously without embracing policies that treat citizens and workers as disposable on the basis of ancestry. Drawing that line is not alarmism—it is the minimum requirement of responsible leadership in a polarized democracy.

• SAS Kirmani