Union Budget 2026–27: Acronyms Without Ambition, Federalism Without Fairness

-Ramphal Kataria

Acronyms, Austerity, and the Politics of Budget 2026

 

Abstract

The Union Budget 2026–27 is projected by the Union government as a fiscally disciplined instrument for building the long-term foundations of a “Viksit Bharat”. However, a closer political economy analysis reveals a budget that prioritises supply-side interventions, macro-fiscal signalling, and symbolic renaming of schemes over employment generation, rural distress mitigation, and substantive federal cooperation. Despite marginal improvements over the Union Budget 2025–26 in select areas—particularly limited tax relief for the middle class—the Budget departs significantly from the empirical diagnosis presented in the Economic Survey 2025–26. Drawing upon opposition critiques, economists’ assessments, and sectoral allocations, this article argues that Budget 2026–27 represents a deliberate choice to privilege capital, centralisation, and fiscal orthodoxy at the cost of social welfare, employment, and cooperative federalism. Viewed from the perspective of the ordinary citizen, the Budget offers acronyms without ambition and discipline without demand.

I. Introduction: Budgetary Politics and Everyday Economics

Union Budgets in India are not merely fiscal documents; they are political statements that reveal the priorities, ideological commitments, and governance philosophy of the regime in power, while simultaneously shaping the material conditions of everyday life. The Union Budget 2026–27 continues a pattern visible over the last decade: an emphasis on macroeconomic stability, headline-friendly schemes, and centralised control, coupled with a systematic retreat from welfare-led demand stimulation and federal equity. While the government claims continuity with reform and growth, the lived realities of unemployment, agrarian distress, and declining real incomes suggest a widening gap between fiscal rhetoric and social outcomes.

II. Budget 2026–27 at a Glance: What Changed Since 2025–26

 Budget 2026–27 at a Glance — What Is New?

• Rebranded expansion of digital and AI-based skilling initiatives, largely platform-driven and short-term.
• Continuation of Production Linked Incentive–type schemes under new manufacturing missions, with no major increase in labour intensity.
• Replacement of MGNREGA with the Viksit Bharat (VB-GRAM G) Act, shifting 40% of programme costs to states (up from 10%).
• Marginal rationalisation of income tax slabs under the new regime, offering limited middle-class relief.
• No significant increase in real terms for agriculture, health, or education spending.

In contrast to Budget 2025–26, the 2026–27 Budget introduces changes primarily in nomenclature and financing architecture rather than substantive redistribution or expansionary public investment.

III. Ignoring the Economic Survey 2025–26: A Policy Disconnect

The Economic Survey 2025–26 identified several structural concerns: stagnating private investment, declining net FDI inflows, falling household savings, weak employment elasticity of growth, and rising precarity in informal labour markets. The Budget, however, fails to address these challenges directly. Instead of reviving demand or expanding public expenditure in employment-intensive sectors, it reiterates faith in supply-side incentives and fiscal consolidation. This disconnect between diagnosis and prescription reflects an ideological preference for market-led growth, even in the face of mounting empirical evidence of its limitations.

IV. Agriculture and Rural Economy: Retreat from Responsibility

Agriculture and allied sectors remain among the most neglected areas in Budget 2026–27. Allocations for key schemes such as the Rashtriya Krishi Vikas Yojana, crop insurance, PM-POSHAN, and rural housing have either stagnated or declined in real terms. The replacement of MGNREGA with the VB-GRAM G Act marks a significant policy shift: states are now required to finance 40% of programme costs, up from 10% earlier. This change disproportionately burdens fiscally constrained states and undermines the constitutional principle of shared responsibility.

Notably absent is any significant increase in public investment in agricultural research, extension services, irrigation sustainability, or agricultural education. For rural households, this translates into reduced income security, fewer employment opportunities, and heightened vulnerability to market shocks.

V. Employment and the Illusion of Skilling

The Budget reiterates its commitment to skilling and digital employment without confronting the central crisis of job creation. Economists such as Venkatesh Athreya have argued that skilling, in the absence of labour-absorbing growth, merely reshuffles unemployment. Manufacturing employment continues to lag far behind the expanding workforce, and informalisation remains the dominant trend. The emphasis on AI-enabled jobs, gig platforms, and digital reels offers aspiration without assurance, particularly for youth in semi-urban and rural India.

VI. Manufacturing: A Hollow Thrust

The government’s manufacturing rhetoric contrasts sharply with global realities. China’s manufacturing success is anchored in state-backed finance, technology transfer, and scale. Europe’s industrial revival is driven by green subsidies, while the United States has deployed massive public investment through the CHIPS Act and Inflation Reduction Act. India’s approach—tax incentives without ecosystem-building—fails to address core constraints such as energy costs, logistics inefficiencies, MSME credit access, and workforce stability.

VII. Macroeconomic Critique: P. Chidambaram’s Intervention

Former Finance Minister P. Chidambaram’s critique of the Budget raises fundamental macroeconomic concerns. He points to the absence of any discussion on penal tariffs, particularly the 50% tariffs imposed by the United States on Indian goods, which have eroded export competitiveness. The growing trade deficit with China, uncertain FDI flows, and persistent portfolio outflows remain unaddressed.

On defence expenditure, Chidambaram notes that while nominal allocations have increased, defence spending has declined from 2.3% of GDP in 2013–14 to 1.9% in 2026–27. Capital expenditure cuts amounting to ₹1.44 lakh crore in 2025–26 further undermine the government’s growth narrative.

Fiscal consolidation also appears inadequate. With the fiscal deficit declining by only 0.1 percentage points annually, achieving the FRBM (Fiscal Responsibility and Budget Management) target of 3% would take over a decade. The revenue deficit remains at 1.5%, indicating continued borrowing for consumption rather than productive investment.

VIII. Education, Health, and Social Sector Underspending

Despite nominal increases, allocations for education and health remain far below long-standing policy benchmarks of 6% and 5% of GDP, respectively. Significant underspending in schemes such as the Jal Jeevan Mission, where revised estimates show a 75% cut, undermines last-mile service delivery. The burden of inadequate public provisioning continues to be borne by households through rising out-of-pocket expenditures.

IX. Federalism Under Strain

The Budget reinforces trends of fiscal centralisation. Cuts in centrally sponsored schemes, rigidity in Finance Commission devolution, and the neglect of state-specific demands—highlighted by Kerala Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan—undermine cooperative federalism. States are increasingly tasked with implementing national priorities without commensurate fiscal support, eroding both autonomy and accountability.

X. Middle-Class Tax Relief: Marginal Gains, Structural Limits

The rationalisation of tax slabs under the new regime offers limited relief to the salaried middle class compared to 2025–26. However, inflation in education, healthcare, and housing costs quickly erodes these gains. Tax relief without employment security and real wage growth provides only temporary respite.

XI. Strategic Silences: Rupee, Trade, and Global Uncertainty

The Budget remains conspicuously silent on the depreciation of the rupee against major currencies and its implications for imports, inflation, and external debt. Nor does it outline a strategy to navigate global trade fragmentation or revive export competitiveness in the face of protectionist barriers.

XII. Conclusion: Discipline Without Democracy or Demand

Union Budget 2026–27 reflects a deliberate political economy choice: to privilege capital accumulation, centralised control, and fiscal orthodoxy over employment, welfare, and federal equity. For the ordinary Indian—farmer, worker, student, or salaried employee—the Budget offers symbolic reassurance rather than substantive security. Without a decisive shift towards labour-intensive manufacturing, demand creation, and cooperative federalism, India’s growth trajectory risks becoming increasingly exclusionary and fragile.

References

1. Government of India. Economic Survey 2025–26. Ministry of Finance.

2. Government of India. Union Budget 2026–27: Budget at a Glance. Ministry of Finance.

3. Athreya, V. (2024). “Employment, Growth and the Indian Economy.” Economic and Political Weekly.

4. Rangarajan, C. (2025). “Fiscal Deficits and Macroeconomic Stability.”

5. Chidambaram, P. (2026). Interviews and public statements on Union Budget 2026–27.

Menstruation, Impurity and the Republic: Constitutional Dignity, Public Health and the Limits of Rights-Based Governance

-Ramphal Kataria

Biology, Stigma and the Republic: Menstrual Health as a Constitutional Question

Abstract

Menstruation, a foundational biological process essential for human reproduction, has historically been marked as impure across large sections of Indian society. This stigma—rooted in patriarchy, ritual purity norms, and male control over household economics—has produced systemic exclusion, silence, and preventable ill-health among women and adolescent girls. Despite incremental improvements in awareness and product availability, access to safe menstrual hygiene remains deeply unequal, particularly in rural and marginalised communities where sanitary napkins continue to be treated as dispensable luxuries. Drawing on public health research, social history, and constitutional jurisprudence, this article critically examines the lived realities of menstrual exclusion, the psychological trauma faced by adolescent girls, and the structural barriers created by gendered economic decision-making. It situates the Supreme Court’s recent recognition of menstrual health as integral to Article 21 of the Constitution as a transformative yet fragile intervention, cautioning against the fate of earlier socio-economic rights such as the Right to Education. The article argues that without sustained financing, social sensitisation, and judicial monitoring, menstrual health risks becoming another symbolic right divorced from lived dignity. Menstrual justice, it contends, is not welfare policy but a constitutional obligation central to public health, gender equality, and democratic accountability.

I. Introduction: Biology as Social Crime

Menstruation is among the most basic facts of human biology. It enables reproduction and ensures the continuity of life. Yet, in India, this process has long been transformed into a site of social exclusion, moral anxiety, and institutional neglect. Across regions, castes, and classes—albeit with varying intensity—menstruation is still associated with impurity, pollution, and restriction. Women are barred from kitchens and temples, excluded from social interaction, and rendered invisible within their own homes during their menstrual cycles.

This paradox—where the biological foundation of life is treated as contamination—reveals the deep entanglement of patriarchy, culture, and governance. While urbanisation, education, and media exposure have weakened some practices, menstrual stigma remains stubbornly persistent in rural and economically marginalised settings. The costs of this persistence are borne not only in social humiliation but in measurable losses to health, education, and dignity.

The Supreme Court’s recent recognition of menstrual health as an essential component of the right to life under Article 21 marks a constitutional rupture with this history. Yet constitutional recognition alone cannot undo centuries of social conditioning. The gap between legal declaration and lived reality remains the central concern of this article.

II. The Historical Construction of Menstrual Impurity

The stigma surrounding menstruation is not a product of biology but of social power. In pre-modern societies, bodily processes associated with reproduction were regulated through ritual norms that prioritised male authority and lineage control. Over time, selective interpretations of religious texts and customary practices framed menstruation as disorderly and dangerous, necessitating segregation.

This construction served multiple functions. It disciplined women’s mobility, regulated sexuality, and reinforced domestic hierarchies. Menstrual restrictions were internalised as moral duties rather than recognised as social impositions. Crucially, impurity was never applied to childbirth or motherhood—only to the process that signified women’s autonomous reproductive capacity.

Colonial modernity did little to dismantle these norms. While public health discourse expanded, menstruation remained confined to the private sphere, insulated from policy attention. Post-independence India inherited this silence, embedding it within welfare approaches that addressed maternal health while neglecting menstrual hygiene.

III. Pain, Silence and Adolescent Trauma

Menstruation is not merely a physiological event; it is a deeply embodied experience shaped by social context. For many women, menstruation involves pain, fatigue, and hormonal fluctuation. In settings where menstruation is stigmatised, these physical challenges are intensified by fear and shame.

For adolescent girls, the experience of menarche is often marked by confusion and psychological distress. In countless households, menstruation is not discussed openly. Girls encounter bleeding without prior explanation, accompanied only by warnings, restrictions, and secrecy. The absence of conversation produces fear rather than understanding, reinforcing the idea that their bodies are sources of embarrassment.

Schools, rather than offering refuge, frequently reproduce this silence. Inadequate toilets, lack of water, absence of disposal mechanisms, and unsensitised teachers make menstruation a source of anxiety. Fear of staining clothes or being ridiculed leads many girls to miss school during their periods, contributing to cumulative absenteeism and eventual dropout.

IV. Sanitary Napkins and the Economy of the Household

Access to sanitary napkins remains deeply stratified. For a significant proportion of women, particularly in rural areas, sanitary products are viewed as non-essential expenditures. Household economics are overwhelmingly controlled by male decision-makers, and menstrual needs are frequently deprioritised.

As a result, millions of women rely on old or discarded cloth, often reused without adequate washing or drying due to lack of privacy. Medical studies have consistently linked such practices to reproductive tract infections, urinary tract infections, and long-term reproductive health complications. These outcomes are not accidents; they are the predictable consequences of structural neglect.

The framing of sanitary napkins as a luxury rather than preventive healthcare reveals a deeper political economy of gender. Women’s health needs are accommodated only when they align with reproductive outcomes valued by the family or state. Menstrual health, by contrast, is rendered invisible because it challenges male control over resources and demands recognition of women’s bodily autonomy.

V. Girls Outside Institutions: The Invisible Majority

While recent policy interventions have focused on school-going girls, a vast population of menstruating women remains outside institutional coverage. These include school dropouts, child labourers, domestic workers, early-married girls, and women engaged in informal agricultural and urban labour.

Biologically, menstruation spans roughly from ages 10 to 45. Any serious approach to menstrual justice must therefore extend beyond schools and colleges to community-level provisioning. Limiting access to educational institutions risks reproducing exclusion by design.

The invisibility of out-of-school girls mirrors earlier failures in child welfare and education policy, where institutional presence became a proxy for entitlement. Menstrual health cannot afford a similar narrowing of scope.

VI. Constitutional Intervention: Menstrual Health under Article 21

The Supreme Court’s recognition of menstrual health as integral to the right to life and dignity represents a significant expansion of constitutional meaning. By directing the provision of free oxo-biodegradable sanitary napkins, functional gender-segregated toilets, safe disposal mechanisms, and comprehensive sensitisation programmes—including for boys and male teachers—the Court has foregrounded menstruation as a public obligation rather than a private inconvenience.

Importantly, the judgment situates menstrual health within dignity rather than charity. This framing compels the state to treat menstrual hygiene as non-negotiable, akin to food, shelter, and basic healthcare.

Yet constitutionalisation also raises expectations that governance structures may be ill-equipped—or unwilling—to meet.

VII. The Shadow of Article 21A: Lessons from the Right to Education

The trajectory of the Right to Education under Article 21A offers a sobering lesson. Enacted through the 86th Constitutional Amendment, the RTE dramatically increased enrolment but failed to deliver substantive educational quality. Learning outcomes stagnated, teacher accountability weakened, and child labour remained visible across urban and rural landscapes.

The lesson is not that rights-based approaches are futile, but that they are vulnerable to bureaucratic dilution. Infrastructure replaced pedagogy; compliance replaced commitment. Menstrual health risks a similar fate if implementation is reduced to procurement statistics and utilisation certificates.

VIII. Implementation, Finance and the Question of Political Will

Unlike civil liberties, socio-economic rights require continuous expenditure. Sanitary napkins, toilets, disposal systems, water supply, and awareness programmes demand sustained public investment. This is precisely where political commitment often falters.

There is a real danger that menstrual health will be treated as a one-time scheme rather than a permanent obligation. Governments may comply formally while underfunding implementation, particularly in fiscally constrained states. Without accountability, menstrual justice risks becoming another entry in policy documents rather than a lived reality.

IX. Comparative Perspective: India and Western Societies

In many Western societies, menstruation is discussed openly within families and schools. Parents prepare girls in advance, provide menstrual kits, and educate boys alongside girls. Sex education includes discussions of consent, contraception, and bodily autonomy. Menstruation carries no ritual stigma; it is treated as a normal aspect of health.

This openness is not cultural accident but political choice. It reflects long-standing investments in public health education and gender equality. The contrast with India highlights how stigma is socially produced and therefore socially dismantlable.

X. Conclusion: Menstrual Justice and the Test of the Republic

The Supreme Court has opened a constitutional door by recognising menstrual health as a fundamental right. Whether this recognition transforms everyday life for millions of women depends on what follows. Rights without monitoring risk becoming rituals; dignity without resources remains abstraction.

Menstrual justice is not a marginal concern. It is a test of constitutional morality, public health governance, and democratic seriousness. A society that venerates motherhood while stigmatising menstruation reveals a profound hypocrisy. The challenge before the Indian state is to ensure that constitutional promises do not end where women’s bodies begin.

Without sustained funding, social transformation, and judicial vigilance, menstrual health may join the long list of rights honoured more in law reports than in lived experience. The cost of such failure will be paid not in statistics, but in the bodies, minds, and futures of girls and women.

References

1. Government of India (2017): National Family Health Survey (NFHS-4), 2015–16, Ministry of Health and Family Welfare, New Delhi.

2. Government of India (2021): National Family Health Survey (NFHS-5), 2019–21, Ministry of Health and Family Welfare, New Delhi.

3. Indian Council of Medical Research (ICMR) (2019): National Guidelines on Menstrual Hygiene Management, New Delhi.

4. World Health Organization (WHO) (2018): Guidelines on Sanitation and Health, Geneva.

5. UNICEF (2019): Guidance on Menstrual Health and Hygiene, United Nations Children’s Fund, New York.

6. UNESCO (2014): Puberty Education and Menstrual Hygiene Management, Paris.

7. ASER Centre (2022): Annual Status of Education Report (Rural), New Delhi.

8. Ministry of Education (2020): Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act, 2009: Implementation Review, Government of India.

9. Supreme Court of India (2024): Menstrual Health and Dignity of Adolescent Girls v Union of India, Writ Petition (Civil), judgment recognising menstrual health as part of Article 21.

10. Supreme Court of India (1978): Maneka Gandhi v Union of India, AIR 1978 SC 597.

11. Supreme Court of India (1993): Unnikrishnan, J.P. v State of Andhra Pradesh, (1993) 1 SCC 645.

12. Supreme Court of India (2012): Society for Unaided Private Schools of Rajasthan v Union of India, (2012) 6 SCC 1.

13. Government of India (2002): The Constitution (Eighty-Sixth Amendment) Act, 2002, Gazette of India.

14. Dasra and Menstrual Health Alliance India (2020): Spot On! Improving Menstrual Health and Hygiene in India, Mumbai.

15. Garg, S, Anand, T (2015): ‘Menstruation Related Myths in India: Strategies for Combating It’, Journal of Family Medicine and Primary Care, Vol 4, No. 2

16. Torondel, B et al (2018): ‘Association Between Unhygienic Menstrual Practices and Reproductive Tract Infections’, PLOS ONE, Vol 13, No 4.

 

Equity, Caste and the Politics of Dilution:A Critical Reading of the UGC’s Promotion of Equity Regulations, 2026

-Ramphal Kataria

From Mandal to Management: Caste Politics and the UGC’s Equity Regulations, 2026

Abstract

The University Grants Commission’s Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, 2026 mark a shift from advisory norms to enforceable institutional obligations in Indian higher education. While framed as a progressive intervention against discrimination, the regulations have generated intense controversy, culminating in their stay by the Supreme Court in January 2026. This article critically examines the regulations through the lenses of constitutional equality, caste politics, and historical experience with affirmative action. It argues that the inclusion of Other Backward Classes (OBCs) within an institutional equity framework—absent any substantive educational or employment entitlements—amounts to symbolic recognition rather than material justice. Drawing on National Crime Records Bureau data on atrocities against Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, the article demonstrates that the central crisis lies not in over-protection but in chronic under-enforcement and low conviction rates. By blurring the historical and legal specificity of SC/ST protections through executive regulation, the 2026 framework risks diluting social justice while reigniting caste antagonisms. Situating the regulations within the longer trajectory of Mandal politics and the strategic mobilisation of caste identities by the BJP–RSS combine, the article contends that the regulations function less as an instrument of equity and more as a form of political signalling in a period of electoral realignment.

 

On 13 January 2026, the University Grants Commission (UGC) notified the Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, 2026, replacing the 2012 anti-discrimination framework. The stated objective was to move from advisory guidelines to binding institutional obligations for universities and affiliated colleges. In form, the regulations appear progressive: they mandate Equal Opportunity Centers (EOCs), Equity Committees, 24×7 helplines, equity squads, and time-bound grievance redressal.

Yet, almost immediately, the regulations triggered widespread controversy, legal challenge, and student protests—primarily from sections of the general category. By late January 2026, the Supreme Court of India stayed the operation of the 2026 Regulations, describing them as “vague, sweeping and capable of misuse”, and directed that the 2012 Regulations would continue to operate pending final adjudication.¹

The controversy is not merely about procedure or drafting. At its core lies a deep political and constitutional question: Does the inclusion of OBCs within an institutional “equity” and “caste discrimination” framework strengthen social justice, or does it dilute the hard-won protections available to Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes?

From Advisory Norms to Enforceable Duties

The 2026 Regulations significantly expand the compliance burden on Higher Education Institutions (HEIs):

Mandatory Equal Opportunity Centers tasked with counselling and inclusion;

Equity Committees, chaired by the Head of the Institution, with representation from SC, ST, OBC, women and persons with disabilities;

Equity Squads and Ambassadors for campus surveillance;

A 24-hour acknowledgement and 15-day resolution timeline for complaints;

Personal responsibility of Vice-Chancellors and Principals, with penalties including withdrawal of UGC grants and recognition.

On paper, this marks a decisive shift from moral persuasion to regulatory coercion. However, two structural problems immediately stand out.

First, the regulations apply only to UGC-regulated universities and colleges, leaving out centrally established institutions such as IITs, IIMs, AIIMS and similar bodies, thereby creating a fragmented equity regime. Second, the regulations fail to define “discrimination” with analytical clarity, focusing instead on the perception of discrimination—an approach that obscures historical power asymmetries in Indian society.

The OBC Inclusion Question: Symbolism Without Substance

The most contentious feature of the 2026 Regulations is the explicit inclusion of OBCs within the equity charter, alongside SCs and STs. This inclusion is not accompanied by:

any new educational entitlements,

any employment guarantees,

any remedial academic support mechanisms, or

any addressing of the massive backlog in SC/ST/OBC faculty recruitment, which exceeds 60 per cent in several central universities.

Instead, OBC inclusion operates almost entirely at the level of grievance redressal and symbolic parity.

Unlike the Mandal Commission (1990 and 2006)—which extended material benefits such as reservation in jobs and educational institutions—this framework offers procedural recognition without redistribution. There was no sustained demand from OBC organisations for inclusion in such an institutional discrimination framework. Many dominant OBC castes—Yadavs, Jats, Gujjars, Kurmis—are numerically strong and politically influential in northern India, often controlling local administrations and campus politics.

The question, therefore, is unavoidable: Who does this inclusion actually benefit?

Historical Context: Mandal, Anti-Reservation Violence and Political Capital

The present moment cannot be understood without recalling the Mandal Commission implementation in 1990, when Prime Minister V. P. Singh extended 27 per cent reservation to OBCs in central services. The response was a violent, upper-caste-led anti-reservation movement, particularly in north India.

Crucially, while the reservation was for OBCs, the primary victims of the violence were SC and ST communities, who were already beneficiaries of reservation and bore the brunt of retaliatory caste assertion. Dalit hostels, settlements and students were targeted, revealing how caste violence operates irrespective of formal policy intent.

The RSS-BJP combine strategically mobilised this churn, converting Mandal into a tool for political polarisation—soon supplemented by Kamandal (religious mobilisation). This twin strategy allowed the BJP to expand from two Lok Sabha seats in 1984 to forming governments under Atal Bihari Vajpayee, and later achieving dominance under Narendra Modi in 2014.

The current UGC framework echoes this history: no real redistribution, but renewed caste antagonism, now transposed onto campuses.

Atrocities Against SC/ST: What the Data Actually Shows

To evaluate claims of “misuse” or “excess”, one must turn to empirical evidence, not political rhetoric. The Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989 was enacted precisely because ordinary criminal law proved incapable of addressing caste-based violence.

Table: Atrocities and Prosecution under the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act

Period	Cases Registered	Conviction Rate	Key Trend
Pre-1990	No consolidated data	—	Atrocities widespread, legally invisible
1990–1999	~20–25k annually (est.)	<20%	Weak enforcement, low awareness
2000–2014	40,208 (2014)	~28–29%	Reporting rises, convictions stagnate
2015–2018	49,064 (2018)	~34–39%	Post-2018 dilution attempt triggers protests
2019–2020	53,515 (2019); 58,538 (2020)	~33–35%	Highest registrations; pendency remains
2021–2023	~57,000 annually	~32%	Conviction rate declines
ST-specific (2023)	~12,960	<30%	Sharp rise; severe under-conviction

(Compiled from NCRB “Crime in India” reports, PIB releases, and Parliamentary replies.)²

What This Reveals

Three points are unmistakable:

1. Rising registrations reflect reporting, not fabrication. Every phase of legal clarity has increased reporting without improving convictions.

2. Conviction rates remain abysmally low, rarely exceeding one-third—pointing to institutional failure, not excess protection.

3. Dilution narratives ignore enforcement realities. The real crisis lies in investigation, prosecution, and special courts.

Against this backdrop, administratively expanding “caste discrimination” categories without strengthening SC/ST enforcement risks normalising equivalence between unequal social positions.

Dilution by Design? Committees, Power and Institutional Bias

The 2026 Regulations vest decisive authority in Equity Committees chaired by Heads of Institutions—who, in over 90 per cent of cases, belong to the general category. Committee membership is drawn from EBC, OBC and general category faculty, while SC/ST representation remains tokenistic.

This matters because institutional bias is not hypothetical. Practices such as declaring SC/ST candidates “Not Found Suitable” (NFS) in faculty recruitment have been repeatedly documented, contributing to massive backlog vacancies.³

Instead of addressing these structural exclusions, the regulations introduce a procedural framework that may symbolically include OBCs while leaving SC/ST marginalisation intact.

Judicial Stay and Federal Concerns

The Supreme Court’s stay is significant not merely procedurally but constitutionally. It has raised concerns about:

Vagueness and over-breadth;

Lack of safeguards for the accused;

Potential misuse of executive regulations to encroach upon areas governed by parliamentary statutes.

Equally problematic is the UGC’s decision to appoint ombudspersons centrally, even though many universities are creatures of state legislation—a move that undermines India’s federal structure.

Conclusion: Equity or Electoral Engineering?

The UGC’s Promotion of Equity Regulations, 2026, arrive at a moment of political flux. Their design suggests symbolic outreach to OBCs without substantive empowerment, procedural expansion without enforcement, and administrative regulation without constitutional clarity.

Far from strengthening social justice, the framework risks diluting the moral and legal specificity of SC/ST protections, reopening caste antagonisms, and converting campuses into sites of political signalling rather than genuine inclusion.

History shows us where such strategies lead. Mandal without justice, Kamandal without accountability, and now Equity without equality—all serve power far better than they serve the oppressed.

References

1. Supreme Court of India, Interim Order staying the UGC Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, 2026, January 2026.

2. National Crime Records Bureau, Crime in India (various years); Ministry of Social Justice & Empowerment, Parliamentary Replies; Press Information Bureau releases, 2018–2024.

3. Thorat, Sukhadeo and Newman, Katherine (2010), Blocked by Caste: Economic Discrimination in Modern India, Oxford University Press.

4. Government of India (1980), Report of the Backward Classes Commission (Mandal Commission).

5. Deshpande, Satish (2013), Contemporary India: A Sociological View, Penguin.

6. Supreme Court of India (2018), Subhash Kashinath Mahajan v. State of Maharashtra; subsequent Parliamentary amendment restoring the Act.