By the nineteenth century yat marked no distinction any Russian speaker made. It was written in a fixed list of words that had to be memorised, and it was the single most reliable way of failing a dictation. That is not a linguistic fact but a social one, and it is why the letter became political.
An orthographic rule that can only be learned, never derived, is a filter. The people who can apply it correctly are the people who had the schooling, and every argument for keeping the letter therefore carried an argument about who should be able to write. The philologists proposing to abolish it said as much, and so, in different words, did the people opposing them.
The Russian reform of 1918 removed it, along with three other letters, using proposals prepared by the Academy of Sciences before the revolution and decrees issued after it. Bulgaria removed it in 1945 under a comparable mixture of long standing scholarly argument and abrupt political will, and Bulgarian had a further complication: because the letter has two different reflexes in different parts of the country, deciding what to write instead was a choice between two regional norms, and the choice was contested for exactly that reason.
Emigre presses kept the letter for decades as a deliberate refusal, and it still appears in some publications as a marker of allegiance rather than of pronunciation. A vowel nobody could hear has been carrying political weight for well over a century, which says more about orthographies than about vowels.