Expressing deep concern over the implications of such orders, the Court underscored that they strike at the dignity of the accused and proceed on an impermissible assumption of guilt at the pre-trial stage. It further warned that such “caste-coloured and oppressive” conditions have the potential to generate serious social friction and risk bringing disrepute to the judiciary. Notably, the Court acknowledged that the pattern emerging from the cases gave rise to a perception of caste bias, observing that there appeared to be substance in reports suggesting that such conditions were disproportionately imposed on individuals from marginalised communities. Invoking the constitutional vision of a casteless society, the Bench referred to Articles 14, 16, and 17, reminding courts of their duty to safeguard equality and dignity, especially for the most vulnerable.

The suo motu proceedings were triggered by a detailed media reports published over the past weeks by Article 14, which brought to light a troubling pattern in bail jurisprudence emerging from Odisha. While early reports identified at least eight cases between May 2025 and January 2026 where courts, particularly in Rayagada district, had imposed cleaning duties as bail conditions, further investigation revealed that the practice was far more widespread. According to Bar & Bench, a single judge of the Orissa High Court had passed at least 50 such orders between April and September 2025, directing accused persons in a wide range of cases to undertake cleaning work at police stations, hospitals, temples, roads, and other public spaces for fixed durations.

Ground reportage by Article 14 added a critical socio-political dimension to these findings, documenting how many of those subjected to such conditions were Dalit and Adivasi individuals, several of whom had been arrested in connection with protests against a proposed bauxite mining project in Odisha’s Tijimali region. The report highlighted concerns that these bail conditions were not only legally untenable but also carried the imprint of caste-based stigma, compelling members of historically marginalised communities to perform labour long associated with social oppression. It is against this backdrop—where questions of liberty, dignity, caste, and judicial discretion intersect—that the Supreme Court has now stepped in, transforming what began as a series of individual bail orders into a moment of constitutional reckoning.

The proceedings

Taking serious exception to the practice, the Supreme Court of India termed such conditions “obnoxious” and reflective of a deeply troubling caste bias within the justice system.

“We are deeply disappointed and disheartened, and express our strongest disapproval at the manner in which the Odisha State judiciary has, in fact regressed to a colonial mindset by imposing such onerous, degrading and humiliating conditions, which are ex-facie violative of human rights. Such conditions, far from advancing the cause of justice, strike at the dignity of the accused, and proceed on the premise of guilt, which is completely impermissible in law,” the Court observed, as per LiveLaw.

Declaring the impugned bail conditions “null and void”, the Court categorically directed that no court in the country should impose such conditions in the future.

“We are of the considered view that no other State judiciary shall also ought to impose such caste-coloured and oppressive conditions, which have the potential to generate serious social friction,” the Bench noted, directing that its order be circulated to all High Courts across India.

The Court further acknowledged the disturbing implications of the pattern revealed through media reports, noting that the overwhelming number of those subjected to such conditions belonged to marginalised communities.

“There seems to be some force in the reportage that no such conditions are being imposed by the State judiciary in cases where the accused are from the privileged sections of society. Assuming such conditions were imposed inadvertently or without any premeditated bias, the nature of the conditions are so abhorrent, cruel, degrading and unknown to the law, that there is a potential to cast a serious aspersion suggesting that the Odisha judiciary is afflicted by caste-based bias,” the Court observed, reported LiveLaw.

Invoking the transformative vision of the Constitution, the Court explicitly referred to Article 17, which abolishes untouchability, and emphasised the guarantees of equality under Articles 14 and 16.

“A judiciary is entrusted with the duty to safeguard these constitutional guarantees and is expected to jealously protect those who are most vulnerable. Over the course of 75 years of the Constitutional journey, the judiciary has transformed the principle of equality into a potent instrument in the hands of citizens, ensuring that the might of the State cannot transgress fundamental rights,” the Bench underscored.

The Bench, comprising Chief Justice of India Surya Kant and Justice Joymalya Bagchi, was hearing a suo-moto case registered on the basis of multiple media reports highlighting the controversial bail conditions.

Addressing the Advocate General of Odisha, Pitambar Acharya, the Chief Justice made his disapproval unequivocally clear:

“Unfortunately, the High Courts and some trial courts in Odisha are imposing some bail conditions which are obnoxious, reflecting caste-based bias, and bringing a bad name to the judiciary. Directing the accused to clean the police station for two months—this should not be a condition a judiciary should be imposing in 2026.”

From “isolated orders” to a pattern of judicial practice

Initial reporting by LiveLaw indicated that the trigger for the Supreme Court’s intervention was a set of bail orders, including a May 28, 2025 order of the Orissa High Court directing one Kumeswar Naik to clean the premises of the Kashipur Police Station daily between 6:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m. for two months. The report also identified at least eight such orders passed between May 2025 and January 2026, largely emanating from trial courts in Rayagada district.

However, a deeper investigation by Bar & Bench fundamentally alters the scale of the issue. According to its analysis of e-courts data, Justice S.K. Panigrahi of the Orissa High Court alone passed at least fifty bail orders between April and September 2025 incorporating similar “community service” conditions.

These were not confined to a narrow category of offences. Rather, they cut across the criminal spectrum—from theft and cheating to grave offences including murder. Nor were they limited to a single type of institution. The directions required accused persons to clean police stations (the most frequent site), hospitals, temples, village roads, ponds, and even a bank branch in one instance.

The structure of these orders was strikingly consistent:

• Mandatory cleaning duties for 2–3 hours daily, typically between 6:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m.;
• Fixed durations ranging from one to three months;
• Detailed specification of location and time, often leaving little room for practical flexibility.

Crucially, as Bar & Bench notes, no other judge of the Orissa High Court appears to have adopted such a practice, raising further questions about the individual exercise of judicial discretion.

Bail or punishment?

At the heart of the controversy lies a foundational principle: bail is not punishment. Under established criminal law doctrine, bail conditions are preventive and procedural—not punitive. Their purpose is limited to ensuring that the accused:

1. Appears for trial;
2. Does not tamper with evidence;
3. Does not influence witnesses;
4. Does not commit further offences.

The imposition of compulsory labour—particularly labour that is unrelated to these objectives—sits uneasily, if not entirely incompatibly, with this framework.

The legal tension becomes sharper when viewed in light of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), 2023. While the BNS introduces “community service” as a recognized form of punishment, this is explicitly a post-conviction measure, applicable only upon a finding of guilt and only for specific, relatively minor offences.

As highlighted in Bar & Bench, and reinforced by a June 2025 decision of the Kerala High Court, community service cannot be transposed into the bail stage. To do so effectively collapses the distinction between accusation and conviction—between presumption of innocence and adjudicated guilt.

Moreover, the absence of proportionality is stark. Identical cleaning conditions were imposed on individuals accused of vastly different offences, without any discernible calibration based on the gravity of the alleged crime or the circumstances of the accused.

When Context Matters: Anti-mining protests and criminalisation of dissent

The controversy cannot be understood in isolation from its socio-political context, meticulously documented in Article 14’s ground report.

A significant number of the affected individuals were arrested in connection with protests against a proposed bauxite mining project in the Tijimali hills of Odisha. The project, linked to Vedanta Ltd., has been resisted by local communities—primarily Dalits and Adivasis—on grounds of displacement, environmental degradation, and alleged violations of statutory safeguards under laws such as the Forest Rights Act (FRA) and the Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act (PESA).

According to Article 14, since 2023:

• At least 40–50 individuals have been arrested in connection with these protests;
• FIRs have invoked serious charges, including rioting, obstruction of public servants, and even attempt to murder;
• Protesters have alleged coercion, fabricated consent processes, and police intimidation.

Within this broader pattern, the imposition of onerous and humiliating bail conditions begins to resemble not merely judicial overreach, but an extension of state response to dissent.

The Caste Dimension: Labour, stigma, and constitutional morality

Perhaps the most constitutionally troubling aspect is the social profile of those subjected to these conditions.

As Article 14 documents:

• Of eight identified cases involving such bail conditions, six accused were Dalits and two were Adivasis;
• Many were associated with grassroots resistance movements;
• The imposed labour—cleaning public spaces, particularly police stations—carries deep historical associations with caste-based occupational hierarchies.

For individuals like Kumeswar Naik, a Dalit protester, the bail condition translated into a daily ritual of enforced humiliation—returning to the very police station where he had been detained, to perform cleaning work under judicial mandate.

Many have argued that such orders are not neutral. They operate within, and risk reinforcing, a social structure where certain forms of labour have historically been imposed on marginalized communities.

This raises serious constitutional questions:

• Does compelling such labour violate Article 21’s guarantee of dignity?
• Does it amount to “forced labour” under Article 23, even if framed as a bail condition?
• Does the disproportionate impact on Dalit and Adivasi accused implicate Article 14 (equality) and Article 15 (non-discrimination)?

The answers to these questions go beyond doctrinal legality—they engage the idea of constitutional morality itself.

Judicial innovation or judicial overreach?

Indian courts have, in the past, experimented with “creative” bail conditions—ranging from planting trees to distributing books. While such measures have occasionally been justified as reformative or restorative, the Supreme Court has repeatedly cautioned against conditions that are:

• Unconnected to the purpose of bail;
• Disproportionate or excessive;
• Infringing upon fundamental rights.

What distinguishes the Odisha cases is not merely creativity, but compulsion—and the nature of the work imposed. Cleaning police stations, hospitals, or temples under court order is not symbolic. It is labour—mandated, time-bound, and enforceable.

The fact that these conditions were often imposed uniformly, without individualized reasoning, further strengthens the case for constitutional scrutiny.

Conclusion: Bail, dignity, and the rule of law

The Supreme Court’s suo moto intervention, reportedly prompted also by representations from civil society, including a letter signed by over 80 lawyers and activists, signals institutional recognition that the issue transcends individual orders. At its core, the controversy forces a return to first principles.

Bail is the juridical expression of the presumption of innocence. It is not a site for experimentation with punishment, nor a vehicle for moral correction, nor an instrument—directly or indirectly—of social discipline. When liberty is made conditional upon labour—especially labour that carries historical stigma—the line between justice and coercion begins to blur.

By declaring such bail conditions “null and void” and prohibiting their future imposition, the Supreme Court has not merely corrected a set of problematic orders—it has drawn a clear constitutional boundary.

The judgment serves as a powerful reaffirmation that:

• Bail cannot be used as a site for punishment;
• Judicial discretion is not unbounded;
• Dignity is integral to liberty;
• And the criminal justice system must remain free from caste prejudice—whether explicit or structural.

Related:

Police action in Odisha’s Rayagada district condemned, Adivasi rights paramount: CCG

Fractured Fault lines: Violence, governance gaps, and rising tensions across Odisha

Odisha: 18 months, 54 incidents of communal hate crimes, 7 mob lynchings

Publicly Tortured, Forced to Eat Cow Dung: No arrests in Odisha Pastor assault case

The post “Obnoxious and Caste-Coloured”: Supreme Court strikes down Odisha bail orders mandating cleaning work, declares them void appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The following report synthesises five harrowing accounts of caste-based hate, meticulously documenting how the intersection of social dominance, administrative apathy, and ritual purity continues to deny the Dalit community their fundamental right to life and liberty.

Dalit youth found dead in Tamil Nadu after going missing; family alleges killing linked to inter-caste relationship

Tamil Nadu (Pudukkottai)

On April 21, in Nadupatti village of Kulathur taluk in Pudukkottai district, 20-year-old R. Hariharan, a Dalit youth, went missing after receiving a phone call. Two days later, on April 23, villagers grazing cattle near a forest area found a body floating in a water-filled quarry. The body was identified as Hariharan.

Hariharan had been in a relationship with a 19-year-old girl belonging to a dominant caste. Around five months earlier, the couple had attempted to elope. Following this, both families were called to Keeranur police station, where a compromise was reached and the couple was separated.

After the recovery of the body, Vellanur police registered a case under Section 194 of the BNSS on April 24, treating it as a suspicious death, based on a complaint filed by Hariharan’s father, P. Rajkumar (50). The family refused to accept the body and demanded that a murder case be registered. A post-mortem examination was conducted, and the body was handed over to the family on April 27.

Hariharan’s father, P. Rajkumar, stated that “The murder was committed by the family members of the girl belonging to another caste, because Hariharan had a love affair with her” as The Mooknayak reported

On April 25, the FIR was altered to include Section 108 (abetment of suicide) of the BNS and Section 3(2)(va) of the SC/ST Act. The accused named in the FIR include the girl’s father Rajendran, her brother Shanmugasundaram, and another person, Krishnan.

The case is currently being investigated by the Pudukkottai town Deputy Superintendent of Police (DSP).

Members of Dalit community asked to bring their own plates & water for temple

Gujarat (Junagadh)

On April 29, during the Pran Pratishta ceremony of a Ram temple in Bhutadi village of Visavadar taluk in Junagadh district, members of the Dalit community were invited to participate in the event.

Approximately ten Dalit individuals were invited by the organising committee. However, the invitation included conditions requiring them to eat separately after others had finished and to bring their own plates and glasses.

They were also told that “Bring your own plates and glasses from home… stay outside the temple premises during the core rituals” as reported by The Mooknayak

Ajay Chatur Boricha, aged 25, filed an FIR at Visavadar police station regarding the conditions imposed. Following this, members of the Dalit community refused to attend the event. The planned mass feast in the village was cancelled, while the temple consecration ceremony proceeded as scheduled. Police registered a case against five individuals: Babu Uka Hapani, Narendra Bhanji Siroya, Ramnik Samji Sorathia, Atul Bhikha Siroya, and Phula Popat Siroya. The case was registered under relevant sections of the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act and the BNS, 2023.

Newly married Dalit couple were allegedly denied entry in temple

Madhya Pradesh (Khargone)

On April 26, in Khargone district, a Dalit couple, Nirmal Kanade and his wife, attempted to enter a Hanuman temple to offer prayers. The temple was initially found locked. After police intervention, the couple was allowed entry. Following this, a panchayat consisting of members from the Banjara and Patel communities held a meeting.

The panchayat declared a social boycott against the couple and two other Dalit families associated with them.

According to the New Indian Express, The decision included a financial penalty.

“The panchayat announced that anyone engaging with the three families or selling anything to them would have to pay a penalty of Rs 11,000” as reported

Following the announcement, local shopkeepers stopped selling goods to the affected families. Nirmal Kanade shared a video describing the situation and seeking assistance. Police later intervened and stated that the matter had been resolved through discussions, and restrictions were lifted.

“Now, Dalits will also take out wedding processions riding a buggy” remark against Dalit wedding procession

Uttar Pradesh (Shahjahanpur)

On April 20, in Lai Kheda village under Tilhar police station area in Shahjahanpur district, a wedding procession arrived from Bareilly at a Dalit household. During the procession, a local individual, Rajpal Yadav, made a remark that now Dalits will also take out wedding processions riding a buggy.

Following this remark, an argument took place which escalated into a physical clash between groups.

Police stated that two processions had reached the same location at the same time, contributing to the situation. An FIR was registered against Rajpal Yadav and four others under provisions of the BNS and the SC/ST Act.

Two individuals were detained in connection with the incident, as reported.

Dalit youth dies after assault at Amreli hospital canteen following dispute over leftover food and caste inquiry

Gujarat (Amreli)

On April 20, at Shantaba General Hospital in Amreli district, 24-year-old Mahesh Premji Rathore from Gopalgram village died after being assaulted. Mahesh had been at the hospital to care for his 70-year-old uncle. While eating at a free canteen, he felt unwell and threw away a portion of leftover food. The canteen operator, Bharat Acharya, demanded a fine of Rs 50 for wasting food. When Mahesh gave a Rs 500 note, Acharya refused to return the change and questioned him about his caste and village.

After learning that Mahesh belonged to a Dalit community, Acharya and others allegedly assaulted him using plastic pipes. Mahesh lost consciousness and died three days later.

According to The Mooknayak His father, Premji Rathore, stated:

“My son was killed for a mere 50 rupees. He was beaten with plastic pipes until he stopped breathing… we will not take the body until murder charges are filed against all accused.”

The family refused to accept the body until appropriate charges were filed. The Special Atrocity Court sought a Forensic Science Laboratory (FSL) report to determine whether Section 302 (murder) should be applied or not.

Notably, across incidents reported from Tamil Nadu, Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, and Uttar Pradesh, a pattern of caste-based discrimination, violence, and exclusion continues to be recorded in different forms. These cases involve restrictions on access to public spaces, conditions imposed during community events, social boycott, and physical violence following everyday actions such as relationships, temple entry, or participation in social functions. The recurrence of such incidents across regions indicates ongoing concerns regarding the implementation of legal protections and safeguards available under existing laws, including provisions addressing caste-based offences.

While FIRs, arrests, and investigations have been reported in these cases, the sequence of events indicates that such incidents continue to occur within society despite the availability of stringent laws against offenders.

Related

The Double Stage on Campus: Caste, crisis & UGC equity regulations (2026) controversy

An Adivasi woman once in bonded labour now serves her village as a Sarpanch

Telangana: Stop forcible ‘re-location of Chenchu Adivasis from Amrabad Tiger Reserve

The post Systematic Exclusion: Caste-based atrocities across Gujarat, Tamil Nadu, MP, and UP appeared first on SabrangIndia.

These demands have surfaced following concerns “regarding rights violations of this community

 In the context of the Amrabad Tiger Reserve, in Nagarkurnool district of Telangana; both the Adivasis and activists-in-solidarity have strongly asserted the legal and democratic rights of the Chenchu community in the Nallamalla forests. 

According to a press note issued by a solidarity forum, a series of actions last week – including 

1. The letters sent to various Central and state authorities and meetings with senior state officials, 
2. The Hyderabad civil society round table, on April 17, in which a large number of Chenchu Adivasis spoke resolutely against involuntary relocation and 
3. In the Prajavani meeting with Mr. Chinna Reddy, (Vice-Chairman of State Planning Board), where Chenchu adivasis were assured that their rights would be safeguarded and district forest officials were asked to comply with law. 

Some of the key demands in all these meetings and representations include 

1. An immediate end to issuing cheques and forcible relocation, in violation of law, 
2. Pursuing the harmonious co-existence model in Amrabad Tiger Reserve and ensuring the democratic participation of communities in forest governance 
3. Withdrawal of fabricated cases against Chenchu Adivasi leaders and 
4. Full compliance with all the relevant laws including the Forest Rights Act, 2006; especially community forest rights and habitat rights of Chenchus, Wildlife Protection Act, 1972 (as amended in 2006), Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act, 1996 and the Land Acquisition and Rehabilitation Act, 2013. 

As is well known, Chenchus are a Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Group (PVTG) residing in the Nallamalla forests of Telangana, since generations. They are recorded as one of the ancient food gathering communities with rich traditional knowledge of forest produce, medicinal plants and live in close association with nature. As also recommended by Sir Christoph Von Haimendorf in 1940, their cultural significance with Nallamala forest should be rightly recognized, by declaring the region as a ‘Chenchu Conservation Bio-Reserve’, in order to protect their socio-cultural rights and their natural habitats. 

However, states the press release, the introduction of ‘Project Tiger’, has resulted in persistent efforts to forcibly relocate them from their natural habitats. The latest threat to their co-existence in the forest has been by way of cheques being issued in March 2026, by senior ministers of the state government, as part of Amrabad Tiger Reserve ‘Relocation package’. It is a gross injustice that without appropriate consultation and consent, as mandated by law, the Chenchu Adivasis are sought to be removed and relocated outside the Schedule-V Area, where they would have no access to wild foods or forest produce and where they will lose all their Scheduled Area constitutional safeguards. 

In this context, many Chenchu community members from affected villages of Sarlapally, Vatwarlapally, Kollampenta, Rayuletupenta, Uppununtala, Kudichintalabayalu came to Hyderabad on April 17, 2026 to submit petitions to the Chief Minister, through the Prajavani Grievance Cell, against the involuntary relocation and excesses of the Forest Department. They also shared their struggles and perspectives with many civil society and citizens groups, during a well-attended round table consultation on the same day. The youth and women gave very clear and cogent reasons as to why they do not want to leave their forest and how there was no proper consent or consultation with their Gram Sabhas. As Chiguru Nagamma of Kommanipenta said, “We have seen how our forefathers were displaced for other projects and whatever money came was wasted on liquor, so we do not want any money or land somewhere else. We will survive in the forest that has sustained us”. 

For example:

Tirupathaiah of Sarlapally gave examples of how basic development activities are not being allowed in their villages and how even the banks or government departments are refusing to give them loans or benefits of schemes because they are under ‘relocation’. Mallikarjun, the ex-Sarpanch, spoke about how their forest rights under the RoFR Act are pending and that shifting them outside the Scheduled Area would make them lose all their constitutional entitlements under PESA, FRA, LARR and LTR Acts. Guravaiah stated that he filed several detailed RTIs and appeals seeking information about the relocation details, but did not receive proper responses. 

The youth expressed their anguish that they are being criminalised with false cases for speaking out for their rights. They said that, along with state officials, some ‘pro-conservation groups’ are also creating a false narrative of ‘voluntary relocation’. They claimed that most of the people whose consent was taken so far, are not Adivasis and they are non-local people, who want to benefit from the package. The Chenchu women said that their men are being given petty jobs (such as forest watchers) to put pressure on their families for giving consent to relocate. This is a deliberate attempt to divide the Chenchus and create friction among them. However, they very clearly conveyed that they will not give consent to any relocation package and would continue to co-exist with the wildlife in harmony, as that is how the Chenchus always survived in the forest.

Speakers at the consultation also raised many legal concerns including non-implementation of the Forest Rights Act, non-recognition of community forest rights and habitat rights of Chenchus. They spoke on the deliberate misinterpretation of the Wildlife Protection Act to displace Chenchus in the name of making the forests ‘inviolate’, violations under PESA and lack of prior informed consent procedures, non-implementation of the Land Acquisition Act of 2013 (LARR). The recent relocation of Adivasis from Mysampet and Rampur in Kawal tiger reserve where the displaced community became landless wage labour still awaiting the promised land and cash compensation is a classic example of non-compliance with legal and statutory accountability mechanisms in relocation.  

Veteran civil rights activist Prof. Haragopal said that the State wants Chenchus out of the forest, both because Adivasi regions are mineral resource rich, but also because the capitalist order wants to extinguish the selfless and community way of living of Adivasis. Other activists who were present and spoke at the Consultation in solidarity include Usha Seethalakshmi, K. Satyavathi, Sajaya K, Dr. Ramkishan, Sandhya V, Ashalatha S, Bhanu Kalluri, Girija, Ravi Kanneganti, Shankar, Kalpana, Meera Sanghamitra, Sanjeev, Soumitri, Ravichander etc.  

The efforts over the past three months, by the Community Forest Rights Working Group of Telangana also resulted in the formation of the Chenchu Solidarity Forum (CSF), on the eve of Earth Day. As an independent citizens’ collective to support the struggles of the Chenchu Adivasi communities, co-existence and democratic governance in Nallamalla forests and ensure their rights, guaranteed by various laws and the Constitution, are not violated. 

Key demands submitted to the Telangana government are:

• Immediately stop issuing cheques and stop the process of unconstitutional relocation of the Chenchus living in Amrabad tiger reserve area.
• Implement the Forest Rights Act including recognition of Community Forest Rights and Habitat Rights, settlement of pending IFR claims and resurvey of claims rejected and pending.
• The forest department has to place in public domain the mandatory report as per WLPA (with 2006 amendment) of the scientific study conducted in consultation with the Chenchus, that proves ‘irrevocable damage to wildlife’ by the Chenchus.
• The forest department should make public the details of core and buffer zone demarcations, details of consultations conducted with concerned Gram Sabhas and details of conditions on which consent was obtained, including details of Social Impact Assessment report, R&R Plan, Gram Sabha resolutions and consent letters.
• Government must share the details of notifying villages in core and buffer zones in Amrabad Tiger Reserve. 
• Strengthen the governance of forests through co-existence of Chenchus with their forests and wildlife using the Constitutional and legal mechanisms of the PESA, FRA, LARR for community centred conservation which is globally recognized as the most sustainable form of Conservation and Climate Protection. 
• Withdraw all the false criminal cases on the Chenchu youth, community leaders and intimidation tactics to prevent them from voicing their concerns. 
• Safeguard the Nallamalla ecosystem and declare the Nallamalla forests as Chenchu Conservation Bio-Region Reserve.

Related:

Thousands of Adivasis demand the implementation of FRA 2006

Breaking: All Intervention Applications defending FRA, 2006 admitted by SC

Woman, Van Gujjar, Forest Dweller – the roles & intersectionalities in Mariam’s life

Mass protests & Sansad Gherao against continued Adivasi evictions

Compilation of Forest Rights Act, Rules, and Guidelines

Frequently Asked Questions on the Forest Rights Act, 2006

Counter Affidavit filed by MoTa in support of tribal rights in the FRA

The post Telangana: Stop forcible ‘re-location of Chenchu Adivasis from Amrabad Tiger Reserve appeared first on SabrangIndia.

A bench of Justice Shekhar B Saraf and Justice Abdhesh Kumar Chaudhary thus quashed a 2021 order passed by the District Level Committee, Lakhimpur, refusing to finalise the claims of 107 ‘Tharu’ community members for forest rights, specifically the right to collect and use minor forest produce for their livelihood. The Order of the High Court was passed on April 9, 2026.

In sum, in its order, the Committee, constituted under the Schedule Tribe and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Rules, 2007, had relied on an interim order passed by the Supreme Court in the year 2000 under the Forest (Conservation) Act, 1980, to reject the claim of the petitioners. The petition was filed by the NGO Udasa and 101 members of the Tharu community. The petitioners, residents of the Palia Kalan area in Lakhimpur Kheri and members of a Scheduled Tribe, had challenged a March 15, 2021, order that dismissed their claims to community forest rights.

The petitioners moved the High Court seeking the quashing of the district-level committee’s rejection of their claims. They argued that as forest-dwelling Scheduled Tribes, they are entitled to specific rights under the Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006.

It was the case of the petitioners that the Forest Rights Act 2006 was enacted specifically for the benefit of the Scheduled Tribes and traditional forest dwellers. They contended that under Section 3 of the Act, their rights include the ownership, access, and use of minor forest produce traditionally collected within or outside village boundaries.

Furthering this argument, the petitioners also relied on a 2013 Ministry of Tribal Affairs circular clarifying that the 2006 Act, being a subsequent statute, supersedes all preceding court judgments or orders of prior date. The Lucknow bench of the Allahabad High Court found justification in their stance and noted that the 2006 Act aims to recognize and vest the forest and occupation in forest land to these forest dwelling Scheduled Tribes and to ensure their livelihood and food security.

On a close reading of the case, the High Court observed that the district-level committee had fundamentally erred in its approach. The court noted that the committee failed to properly consider the intent and specific provisions of the Forest Rights Act, 2006. Instead, the authority had relied solely on an interim order passed by the Supreme Court in the year 2000 to justify the rejection of the claims. The bench emphasized that the primary objective of the 2006 Act is to recognise the traditional rights of forest-dwelling communities and to secure their livelihood and food security. Explaining this further, the Court clarified that with the enactment of this Act, the legislature had not created any new rights for these forest dwellers, rather it had recognized the existing rights and occupation of these people, who had been traditionally restricted to this place of dwelling in forest owing to various historical reasons.

The court noted in its Order that:

“The objective of the Act is to recognise the traditional rights of forest-dwelling communities and ensure their livelihood and food security, which cannot be overlooked.”

The judges also pointed out that the 2006 legislation was enacted specifically to address historical injustices and to provide a legal framework for the rights of these communities, making it imperative for committees to apply the Act’s provisions rather than relying on outdated interim orders It was against this backdrop that the Court found fault with the impugned order, which the bench said had not taken into account the relevant provisions of the 2006 Act and had only dealt with the Supreme Court interim order passed in 2000, prior to the enactment of the Act.

Following this, the court quashed the March 15, 2021, order and directed the concerned district authority to rehear the matter. The bench mandated that the petitioners be provided a full opportunity for a hearing and that a “reasoned order” be passed within a reasonable timeframe after a thorough examination of all relevant facts and records.

Furthermore, the court provided interim protection to the Tharu community members, clarifying that until the fresh decision is reached, the petitioners will continue to enjoy their existing forest rights without disruption.

In its Order, the Court highlighted that Section 4 of the Act begins with a non-obstante clause, meaning that the central government recognizes and vests these rights notwithstanding anything contained in any other law for the time being in force.

Advocates Nandini Verma, Desh Deepak Singh and Rajat Srivastava apeared for the petitioners. The judgement in Udasa and 106 others vs Union of India, Thru.the Secy. Ministry of Tribal Affairs New Delhi and 5 others may be read here:

Related:

MoEFCC subverting the Forest Rights Act, 2006: 150 Citizens groups

Independent experts, not government servants must be part of the CEC while deciding the challenge to Forest Conservation Act: Former bureaucrats to SC

Destruction of forest in Kancha Gachibowli, Telangana violation of Congress party manifesto: CCG Statement

AIUFWP submits letter LoP Rahul Gandhi, calls for action as forest rights remain in limbo

Adivasi Land Rights Erosion: The effects of the 2023 Forest Conservation Amendment Act

The post Victory for Forest Rights: Allahabad HC recognises land claims of Tharu Tribes, strikes down decision of DLC appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Further, the communication points out that in the past, the Ministry of Environment and Forests granted clearance in 2004 for the diversion of forestland in the Niyamgiri Hills to enable a corporate entity to mine bauxite for an alumina refinery located nearby, also on forestland. This decision was subsequently set right by the Supreme Court of India. It was only when the Supreme Court intervened and insisted in 2013 that the concerned Gram Sabhas needed to give their consent under the Forest Rights Act (FRA), that the matter was placed before the Gram Sabhas. At the time, all the 12 concerned Gram Sabhas categorically denied permission for the mining project, affirming their cultural and spiritual rights to the area.

Now, 13 years later, regrettably, less than 50 km away from Niyamgiri, in Sijimali in Rayagada district of Odisha, also in the Fifth Schedule to the Constitution, efforts have been made to again illegally acquire the forest lands by fraudulent means. In December 2025, MoEFCC accorded stage I forest diversion clearance, based on the 2023 gramsabha resolutions, which are claimed to be fraudulent, with a stipulation that the diversion was subject to FRA clearance, the letter states. The Stage 1 forest diversion clearance given was itself flawed as the prior mandatory site visit was not undertaken and due process was not followed. In December 2023, it was claimed that the concerned Gram Sabhas had passed ‘unanimous’ resolutions in favour of the mining activities to be taken up by Vedanta, the same group which had attempted to take up mining in the Niyamgiri hills.  Villagers of Sijimali have alleged that the resolutions were fraudulent, that a number of non-residents took part in the Gram Sabha meetings, that minors and deceased persons were shown to be present, that consent was obtained through fraud and manipulation. Media reports[1] also mention that the Gram Sabha meetings never took place and that the police brought in people from elsewhere and recorded photographs and videos. In February 2025, two Gram Panchayats filed a writ petition in the Odisha High Court to quash the 2023 Gram Sabha resolutions. The Court disposed of the matter in March 2025 directing the Centre to take note of the concerns.  Despite this order, and regardless of local protests, construction of a three km. long approach road was started, with the presence of armed police. This is the background of the clashes.

The CCG states that the collective is “distressed by the fact that despite knowing that the Forest Rights Act was applicable to the land on which the mining would be taken up, the State Government chose not to follow the precedent of the Niyamgiri judgement of the Supreme Court and ensure fair proceedings by seeking presence of a judicial officer at the meetings of the Gram Sabha.”

“Apart from the above, the principles of the 1997 Samatha judgement of the Supreme Court have also been violated.  In the matter of ‘transfer’ of tribal land to a ‘non-tribal person’, the court had held that without due consultation and benefit sharing, government land or forest land or tribal land cannot be transferred to private entities. It is amazing that the government, despite having the duty of protecting common property resources, seems to be bent upon handing these resources over to subserve private interests.  Such actions are also a clear violation of Article 39 of the Constitution which mandates the State to secure social and economic justice.

“The manner in which the Sijimali protests have been dealt with indicates complete violation of the spirit of the Niyamgiri judgement of the Supreme Court. It shows scant regard for the Forest Rights Act.  It creates serious doubts about the authenticity of the resolutions of Gram Sabha, indicating that free, prior and informed consent of the Gram Sabha had not been obtained. It shows the State’s inability or refusal to learn from past incidents of tribal unrest which have, in several cases, led to the loss of tribal lives.”

The CCG has also pointed out that these days when we have a Mission Karmayogi to systematise capacity building at all levels, it should have been a fairly easy step to incorporate such a landmark Supreme Court Judgements in the training curriculum of the concerned officials, so that future investment proposals are handled with due diligence, without requiring people to go all the way to approach the Supreme Court again. Similarly, it should have been a routine item of administration in these days of Information Technology, that the individual and community rights recognised under the Forest Rights Act are duly incorporated into revenue records and maps. All this brings us to the disturbing question of whether the new chapter referred to by Jaipal Singh Munda, of just and fair governance, is still a distant dream.”

On January 24, 1947, Jaipal Singh Munda, member of the Constituent Assembly, had stated, “The whole history of my (tribal) people is one of continuous exploitation and dispossession by the non-aboriginals of India… I take you all at your word that now we are going to start… a new chapter of independent India where there is equality of opportunity, where no one would be neglected.”

Invoking this now 79 years later, the letter urges India’s woman Adivasi President that “they are hopeful that you will be concerned about the injustice that is being done, and that you will get the government to comprehensively re-examine the authenticity of the December 2023 Gram Sabha resolutions.  Pending a detailed enquiry, the stage I forest diversion clearance should be suspended and the physical work of road construction to Sijimali mining area should be stopped. The cases of the tribal persons who have been booked under various criminal law sections need to be reviewed by the National Commission for Scheduled Tribes. All steps must be taken to see that the gains of the Forest Rights Act, both in terms of individual and community rights, are consolidated to secure better livelihoods for all tribals and other traditional forest dwellers.”

The signatories are:

[1]   Report in the Hindu. 3.1.2026 https://frontline.thehindu.com/environment/sijimali-bauxite-mining-gram-sabha-fraud/article70463304.ece

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But what if we pause and think about the thousands of modern day slaves in India who continue to work under almost the same conditions? 

As India marks 50 years of the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976, cases of bonded labour still surface in states like Telangana. Many workers in sectors such as agriculture, brick kilns, fishing and construction remain trapped in debt and coercion. The only thing that has changed is that it is no longer the 3rd century BCE, but the 21st century. 

Pursala Lingamma’s story emerges from this reality. Once a bonded labourer, she later entered public life and today serves her village as its Sarpanch.

Pursala Lingamma, Sarpanch of Amaragiri village

“At night, our seth(master) locked our children in a separate room so that we would not run away. If we tried to escape, we would have to leave our children behind. That is how we remained trapped in slavery for nearly three decades.” – says Pursala Lingamma 

P Lingamma, once trapped in conditions of forced slavery, went on to become the Sarpanch of a village with hundreds of rescued individuals. Lingamma hails from Amaragiri village in Nagarkurnool district, Telangana. For over three decades, her family, along with 44 other families from the Chenchu tribe (an aboriginal community listed among the Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups in India) was trapped in bonded labour. 

“The community’s complete rescue was a miracle. We had to suffice in the given boat and equipment for fishery and had never imagined that we could ever be free. My parents and the whole community had lost all hope. ” – she adds. 

They were trapped by three local businesspersons who controlled most of the fishing trade in the area. Through debt and coercion, Lingamma’s family, along with many other families, were forced to sell the fish they caught at extremely low prices. While the market price was around Rs 60, they were made to sell it for just Rs5. They were denied access to fair markets and were even subjected to physical abuse, leaving constitutional guarantees only on paper.

Rescued from Bonded Labour 

However, the turning point came when a civil society organisation, the Foundation for Sustainable Development (FSD), stepped in. Established in 2004, FSD works to eradicate bonded labour across several Indian states, including Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Odisha and West Bengal. 

“Due to migration and the search for a stable livelihood, these tribal groups, most of them illiterate, get trapped by local businessmen. They are often threatened and abused so that they do not speak against them.” – Dr. Kandasamy Krishnan, Executive Director of FSD and Convenor of the National Adivasi Solidarity Council (NASC)

Krishnan speaks about the deep fear among the survivors of Chenchu tribe in Amaragiri village. For generations, these families had been catching fish from the Krishna River and selling it locally for around Rs. 100 per kilogram. The same fish could earn up to Rs. 1,000 per kilogram in markets in West Bengal. In other words, they were getting barely one-tenth of its real value. Yet most of them were afraid to complain to officials, fearing they might lose even this small income, if they engage with officers. Krishnan adds that among the 106 people who were rescued, only two could read and write, which made it even harder for them to understand their constitutional rights and speak up against them in front of officers.

Lingamma’s Leadership Journey

Lingamma attended several leadership sessions conducted by the Foundation for Sustainable Development and waited for the right opportunity to show her abilities. She is one of the 2,900 rescued survivors by FSD, who has received leadership training. Today, many of them are leading participants in different fields such as local politics, markets, working at handicrafts and self-help groups. However, their journey, even after the rescue, is not easy. It is only their first step. 

For the first time, the position of Sarpanch in Amargiri village was reserved for a woman from a Scheduled Tribe. It was then that a cousin of Lingamma encouraged her to contest the election, thinking that the position could later be taken over by him. She hesitated at first, but eventually decided to step in and make use of the opportunity. However, she faced heavy criticism for contesting, especially because she was a woman and that too from the Chenchu tribe.

Lingamma says, “The village was already divided among different tribes. When I got nominated, it soon turned into a gender conflict as well. The toughest time for me was not the haunting decades of slavery, but the months before the election, when the men of my own community stood against me.” 

The villagers were deeply divided in their opinions about a woman’s capability to hold such a significant position in the political arena. They doubted a woman’s ability to conduct meetings with bureaucrats, negotiating and bargaining the interest of the community wisely. Many were sceptical, but she was confident. She went ahead and mobilised male voters by taking up their daily issues and also assured the women that she would be a strong and accountable leader. After conducting numerous local Sabhas to engage with opposing forces, the tribe slowly consolidated and she won the first election of her political journey. Later, despite being offered monetary bait of Rs10 lakh to transfer the real authority to her cousin, Lingamma declined to sell the trust of her own people. Today, she stands as an epitome of women’s empowerment for the whole of Amaragiri.

Developmental Road Ahead after Winning

Lingamma’s leadership as Sarpanch has played an important role in establishing the economic independence of Amaragiri. 

Lingamma is currently focusing on education and has been working to lay the foundation for school buildings in the village. She is also pushing for the establishment of a community hall for her community, which is still awaiting sanction. Along with this, she hopes to soon ensure access to drinking water and improve road infrastructure, as the village remains largely isolated from the outside world.

She says, “Amaragiri should not be known as a village of bondage, but for its progress and for the leadership of a tribal woman.”

Post-rescue, survivors have organised themselves into the Amaragiri Released Bonded Labourers Association (RBLA) in effort to secure government benefits, and launched initiatives like a fish-processing unit to ensure economic independence in their age-old profession. The Chenchu community of Amaragiri were able to obtain government funds as well, of approximately 40 lakh rupees, to start a Fishing Cooperative and purchase vehicles to take the fish to city markets. 

Her victory is historic, not just for her but for the entire community. It symbolises a complete reversal of decades of oppression and a beacon of hope for other marginalized communities. 

At the heart of this transformation stands Sarpanch P. Lingamma. 

Her journey is recently recognised in a feature by Eenadu, a Telugu newspaper, on March 18, 2026 titled “From Struggle to Recognition: An Inspiring Journey of Resilience.”

On the occasion of International Women’s Day, Lingamma was also among nine Elected Women Representatives from across the country who were felicitated by the Indian School of Democracy at the Constitution Club of India. ISD is a non-partisan organisation that works to nurture principled grassroots political leaders committed to strengthening Indian democracy.

(The author is a Political Science student at Lady Shri Ram College for Women, Delhi University, and an independent journalist writing on polity, governance, and social issues.)

Related:

Raid on Adivasi leader Manish Kunjam for ‘seeking investigation into the tendu patta bonu scam’, condemned by rights groups

Appeal to Political Parties, Visit Bastar, Initiate a Dialogue, Restore Fundamental Rights

Attack on Prof Sanjay Kumar Roundly Condemned

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Next day, today, Friday 27, fourteen of hundreds of protesting students from the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) were sent to Tihar Jail after the late night brutal lathi charge by the Delhi police, attacking a student protest and long march aimed to march towards the Ministry of Education yesterday. Protesters have been demanding the resignation of Vice Chancellor (VC) JNU Ms Pandit who had made derogative remarks against Dalits and Blacks recently and also the restoration of the UGC Guidelines of 2026.

On Thursday (February 26), Jawaharlal Nehru University Students’ Union (JNUSU), along with other student organisations, organised a “long march” from the university to the Ministry of Education in Delhi. Students alleged that soon after their march began, Delhi Police lathi-charged them near the main gate of the campus. They said several students were detained and taken to the Kapashera and Sagarpur police stations. Videos and photographs that surfaced on social media showed that many students, including women, were injured in the police action.

The students’ march began around 3 pm from Sabarmati Dhaba inside the campus. Students joined the rally in large numbers, including members of JNUSU, All India Students’ Association (AISA), Students’ Federation of India (SFI), Democratic Students’ Federation (DSF), National Students’ Union of India (NSUI), All India Students’ Federation (AISF) and other student bodies.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming

14 JNU students sent to TIHAR JAIL
the state’s cowardice is on full display. They think iron bars break spirit, they are WRONG
​fight against BJP & Shantishri’s casteist regime will only INTENSIFY#JNU #jnusu pic.twitter.com/qJTC3DamOD

— Anjali (@anjali__27) February 27, 2026

जेएनयू में हज़ारों छात्र जब यूजीसी रेगुलेशन के पक्ष में और जातिवादी वाईस चांसलर की बर्खास्तगी की माँग के साथ शिक्षा मंत्रालय की तरफ़ बढ़े।
तब पूरी सरकार में कंपकंपी मच गई। दिल्ली पुलिस ने छात्रों के हाथ से बाबा साहब भीम राव अंबेडकर की तस्वीर छीन ली, हाथों में अपने… pic.twitter.com/2JyjjTrb8m

— Dhananjay (@SathiDhananjay) February 26, 2026

This protest began amid heavy deployment of security forces, including Delhi Police, across the campus. The main gate was completely barricaded to prevent the students from moving forward.

Before the march started, JNUSU president Aditi Mishra had told The Wire: “Our call today was directed at the Ministry of Education. We are demanding that the UGC Equity Regulations be implemented on the lines of the Rohith Act. We are also demanding the resignation of our Vice-Chancellor, Shantisree Dhulipudi Pandit, over her remark that ‘Blacks and Dalits are permanently drugged with victimhood’. We believe such a statement is unacceptable. We are also asking for the restoration of funds [to JNU and other universities], because continuous financial cuts are weakening public universities and affecting students directly.”

She had then added, “What we are seeing instead is a heavy police security presence. The university has been turned into what feels like a cantonment, with barricades placed every few metres, the Rapid Action Force deployed and water cannons and tear gas kept ready. FIRs are being filed against students simply for protesting.”

Despite the heavy police and security force presence and the main gate of the JNU being sealed off, the students remained firm on continuing their march. Around 4 pm, students moved the barricades placed outside the main gate and attempted to proceed with their march. Soon after this, police began detaining students participating in the march. During the process, scuffles broke out between them and the police.

The allegations of brutality included male persons, accused of masquerading as men in uniform assaulting women with pins and other weapons in gendered violence. Hundreds of police, paramilitary and other personnel were brought in to simply “handle a student’s protest.”

It was the obstruction of free movement by the Delhi Police who blocked and locked the JNU gates that began the altercation and thereafter police repression.

Danish, joint secretary, JNUSU, said, “We called for a peaceful march from JNUSU to the Ministry of Education. However, Delhi Police blocked JNU gates, putting locks on them. Around 500 to 700 policemen were deployed with heavy barricading, lathis, tear gas and water cannons. When students broke the locks and marched, the police launched a brutal lathi charge.

“Many students were hurt. Women students were dragged and their clothes torn. They [police] detained at least fifty of us and took us to Kapashera Police Station. Even now, many students, including me, are injured but have not received any first aid. There were also people in civil dress beating students brutally alongside the police. Students are still protesting at the main gate, and the police continue to beat them.”

Dhananjay, former JNUSU President speaks of this police brutality here

On Sunday, 22 February, a “Samta Rally” was organised on the JNU campus to protest against alleged anti-Dalit remarks made by Vice-Chancellor Shantishree Pandit. At the march, students demanded implementation of the new University Grants Commision (UGC) equity guidelines, and asked for the Vice-Chancellor to resign and issue a public apology for her statements.

However, after that march, tensions escalated and clashes broke out between two student groups. Left student organisations and JNUSU members accused members of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) offshoot, student body Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP), of pelting stones during the confrontation.

On Monday (February 23), the university administration registered a case against JNUSU office bearers over the “Samata Rally” and the alleged violence during the previous night’s protest Thereafter, JNUSU announced another march, and that was the one to be held on 26 February.

The Jawaharlal Nehru University Teachers’ Association (JNUTA) also condemned the police action, describing it as brutal use of force against students at the JNU gate.

In a statement issued on today February 26, JNUTA said several students, including women, were injured and many detained, including two JNUSU office bearers. It raised concerns over reports that women detainees were taken to undisclosed locations and alleged that they faced further mistreatment in custody.

JNUTA said the police action appeared to be aimed at preventing students from exercising their democratic right to march to the Ministry of Education, and demanded the immediate release of all detained students, action against the officials involved and the withdrawal of police personnel from the campus gates.

The text of the JNUTA statement issued by Surajit Mazumdar (President) and Meenakshi Sundriyal (Secretary) reads:

“The JNUTA strongly condemns the brutal use of force by the Delhi Police against JNU students and the detention of several of them, including two JNUSU Office bearers. Reports indicate that several students, including women, have been severely injured in the police action at the JNU gate in which even the laws prohibiting male policemen from acting against women were brazenly flouted. The JNUTA is also extremely concerned at the wellbeing of those detained. There are several women among them and they have been taken to unconfirmed locations that are far away from the campus. Reports are also coming of them being subjected to further police beatings while in custody.

The police action today, and they also came armed with weapons, had the sole objective of preventing come what may the students from exercising their democratic right to march to the Ministry of Education. Prohibition of such marches, and then prosecuting those who march, and use of excessive force against them, have become part of the standard routine for the Delhi Police. In the process, it has become an instrument of not law enforcement but of authoritarianism and the curbing of constitutionally guaranteed democratic rights.

The JNUTA knows that the bankrupt JNU Administration led by the VC cannot be expected to discharge its duty as guardian of the students’ interests. After all, it is its own actions that have led to the current situation. The continuing refusal to act against her and even today’s police action, however, raises serious questions about whether her infamous casteist remarks and other actions in fact have the endorsement of the Ministry of Education. Is it that the Ministry did not want to answer the uncomfortable questions it would have had to face from JNU students?

The JNUTA demands immediate release of all the detained students and strict action against the police officials reponsible for transgressing the laws they are themselves bound by while enforcing them. The Police which is still at the campus gates must also leave immediately. We appeal to JNU teachers to remain vigilant and speak up against this violence and onslaught on democracy.”

Just a few days ago former JNUSU President, Dhananjay filed a complaint against the VC with the NCST. This may be read here.

Related:

JNU: Former JNUSU President complains against Vice Chancellor’s casteist & racist remarks

The Double Stage on Campus: Caste, crisis & UGC equity regulations (2026) controversy

UGC Guidelines 2026: AISA Protest at Delhi University followed by sexual abuse allegations amid police presence

The post JNU Students Lathi-charged, Injured, first detained during protest over V-C remarks, UGC Equity guidelines, now Jailed appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Introduction: The Campus as Double Stage

The University Grants Commission, on January 13, 2026, notified the Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions Regulations, a broad set of rules intended to counter caste discrimination in Indian universities. Within two weeks, the Supreme Court stayed the regulations, observing that they showed “complete vagueness” and might have “dangerous impacts” to “divide society.” In the meantime, and in the weeks that followed, Indian universities, particularly Delhi University, witnessed protests and counter-protests, violence, allegations of assault, cross-FIRs and, subsequently, a month-long ban on all demonstrations. SabrangIndia’s detailed story on the nationwide protests may be read here and here.

This debate goes beyond a simple policy debate. It is a point at which the underlying contradictions of caste in contemporary India have come face-to-face with the national arena. In my previous work, I introduced the concept of “schizophrenic modernity”, a condition in which a public official theatre of constitutional equality coexists with a dynamic social obscenity, wherein the hierarchy of caste is reinscribed through intimate sociability, bodily practices and moments of violence. The UGC controversy makes this schizophrenia explicit.

To gain a full understanding of the stakes, it is imperative to consult two scholars whose work helps to illuminate the underlying structure of this dispute. Anand Teltumbde’s work on the “camouflaged” presence of caste provides a framework for understanding how caste functions within modern institutions as a hidden system of social capital and exclusion, rather than as a visible ritualized hierarchy. Gopal Guru’s work on the scene/obscene dialectic of knowledge production, along with his imperative to theorize from the location of the obscene, supplies the methodological key to centering the Dalit experience in this argument. Together, they enrich and expand my Foucauldian-Gramscian framework, locating it within the particular intellectual traditions of Dalit Studies.

The article uses the framework to provide a thorough argument about the controversy. Part I will evaluate the rules as a scene of extending the constitutional scene into the obscene. Part II will locates the upper-caste reaction as a manifestation of “camouflaged” caste, as well as Gopal Guru’s reading of hegemonic denial. Part III will discuss the role of the Supreme Court as a moment of definitional politics. Part IV will analyse campus violence as a manifestation of obscene eruption, according to Teltumbde’s framework. Part V will evaluate the schizophrenic stance of the state. Part VI will explore Dalit counter-mobilizations as a moment of forcing the obscene back into the scene, according to Guru’s imperative to theorise from the location of the obscene. The conclusion will consider what this controversy tells us about the underlying architecture of caste power.

I. The Regulations: Extending the Scene into the Obscene

The UGC Equity Regulations 2026 have their roots in a specific set of events: a petition to the Supreme Court jointly filed by the mothers of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi, both of whom took their own lives in the aftermath of alleged caste-based harassment on their respective college campuses. Vemula, a Dalit PhD scholar at the University of Hyderabad, died in 2016; Tadvi, a tribal medical student in Mumbai, died in 2019. Their deaths have been seen as symptomatic of the failure of institutional mechanisms to protect marginalised students.

Statistics shown by the UGC to a parliamentary committee show a 118.4% increase in reported cases of caste-based harassment over five years, from 173 in 2019-20 to 378 in 2023-24. Journalist Anil Chamadia said that this increase “is not merely about numbers; it is directly linked to growing awareness among marginalised students and the protection given to dominant caste ideologies.” When first-generation Dalit students enter universities in greater numbers, the dominant castes may resent their presence, leading to increased harassment.

The regulations created a complex administrative machinery for equity. They mandated that every higher education institution set up an Equal Opportunity Centre (EOC) to monitor policies for the disadvantaged. Equity Committees, mandated to include representatives from Scheduled Castes (SC), Scheduled Tribes (ST), Other Backward Classes (OBC), women and persons with disabilities, were tasked with complaints. Institutions were mandated to set up “equity squads” for constant surveillance, establish 24/7 hotlines and ensure time-bound redressal of grievances, committees were to meet within 24 hours of a complaint and submit a report within 15 days. Failure to comply would invite severe punishment, including withdrawal of UGC funding, exclusion from schemes, or suspension of degree programs.

Notably, the regulations introduced protection for the first time for OBCs, besides SC/ST students, faculty and staff. The concept of “caste-based discrimination” in Clause 3(c) was articulated as discrimination “only on the basis of caste or tribe against the members of the Scheduled Castes (SC), Scheduled Tribes (ST) and Other Backwards Classes (OBC).”

Based on the current framework, the regulations can be understood as an effort to operationalize the constitutional ban on caste discrimination as a pervasive social order. While the Constitution bans caste discrimination at the level of abstract jurisprudence, the regulations aimed to create capillary structures—committees, squads, helplines—that would penetrate the intimate spaces of caste discrimination: the classroom, the hostel, the mentor-mentee relationship and social networks. They aimed to make visible the everyday humiliations, exclusions and violence against Dalit students, which the “obscene” had hitherto made invisible.

As a UGC functionary explained, “The regulations aimed to institutionalize anti-discrimination policies rather than have a piecemeal approach and thus provide ‘marginalised students with an official platform to raise their concerns, which was often lacking before.’” This is the role of the scene: to make grievances speakable, visible, and actionable. The obscene, on the other hand, is that which is unspeakable, the casteist remark that is reduced to “just a joke,” the exclusion that is reduced to “personal preference,” the hostility that is reduced to “academic rigor.”

II. The Upper-Caste Backlash: Camouflaged Caste and the Hegemony of Denial

The regulations didn’t just face criticism; they walked into a firestorm. Upper-caste students, faculty and a chorus of social media voices came out swinging almost immediately. Protests erupted at Delhi University, Lucknow University and right outside the UGC office. But if you listen closely to what the protesters are actually saying, something interesting emerges. Their words reveal how privilege dresses itself up as fairness when its back is against the wall. To really understand what’s happening here, we need two thinkers: Anand Teltumbde and his idea of “camouflaged” caste, and Gopal Guru with his insights about who gets to theorise and whose experience counts as real.

Teltumbde: When Caste Puts on a New Suit

In The Persistence of Caste (2010), Teltumbde makes a deceptively simple argument that cuts through a lot of confusion. Caste hasn’t disappeared in modern India; it’s just changed its clothes. It no longer marches around in religious robes, declaring Brahmins superior and Dalits polluted. Instead, it’s dressed itself in the respectable attire of modernity. It speaks the language of merit, efficiency and professionalism, all while quietly reproducing hierarchy through who knows whom, who gets recommended for jobs, who feels comfortable in academic spaces.

This is exactly what we’re seeing in the UGC controversy. The upper-caste protesters aren’t defending traditional caste ideology. You won’t hear them argue that Brahmins are naturally smarter or that untouchability was ordained by the gods. That would be too obvious, too easy to counter. Instead, they’ve wrapped themselves in the language of universalism, due process, and merit. They’re not defending privilege, they’re defending fairness. Or so they claim. This is caste in camouflage, operating through the very discourses that supposedly left it behind.

Teltumbde argues this camouflage isn’t accidental. It’s caste’s survival strategy, its “genius,” he calls it, though he means it darkly. Caste is plastic. It can take any form religious, secular, modern, global while never losing its core purpose: maintaining graded inequality. If you go looking for caste in its traditional avatar, you’ll declare it dead. You’ll miss its vibrant new incarnations entirely.

The protesters who warn of “complete chaos” and insist that “victim can be anyone on campus” aren’t defending old caste. They’re defending its new form as common sense, as the natural order of things, as what any reasonable person would think. They are, in Teltumbde’s framework, caste’s latest incarnation.

Guru: Why the Obscene Matters

Gopal Guru gives us the other lens we need. In The Cracked Mirror (2012), written with Sundar Sarukkai, Guru makes a provocative argument about how knowledge itself is structured by caste. Upper-caste “theorists,” he argues, have historically occupied what he calls the “scene”, the privileged space of abstraction, theory and universal claims. Dalit-Bahujan thinkers, meanwhile, have been confined to the “obscene”, the messy, particular, experiential realm that supposedly isn’t fit for theory. Guru calls for “epistemic humility”, a willingness to theorize from the site of the obscene, to take seriously the knowledge that comes from lived experience of caste.

The UGC controversy plays out this dynamic in real time. The upper-caste protesters occupy the scene. They speak the language of due process, safeguards against false accusations, and the danger of dividing society. Their discourse presents itself as neutral, rational, concerned with everyone’s good. And the Dalit experience that made these regulations necessary in the first place, the 115 suicides, the daily humiliations, the systematic exclusion gets pushed into the obscene. It becomes merely anecdotal, particular and insufficiently theoretical.

When protesters claim that “victim can be anyone,” they’re not just describing reality. They’re prescribing how reality should be seen. They’re demanding that the scene remain blind to the actual direction of caste violence. The universal category of “anyone” erases the particular vulnerability of Dalit students. The scene refuses to see what the obscene knows.

The Hegemony of Denial in Action

Listen to Alokit Tripathi, a DU PhD student who told PTI the rules would create “complete chaos.” His concern? The burden of proof would shift to the accused, with “no safeguards for those wrongly accused.” And then this: “The definition of victim is already predetermined. Victim can be anyone on campus.”

This is Teltumbde’s camouflaged caste, speaking in perfect accent. The historically privileged group positions itself as potential victim. The structural violence documented in the 2007 Thorat Committee report on AIIMS, where Dalit students faced “avoidance, non-cooperation and discouragement” from faculty and peers simply vanishes. The actual power relations on campus, where faculty and administration remain overwhelmingly upper-caste, where informal networks quietly reproduce privilege all of it erased from the frame.

And its Guru’s hegemonic denial too. The universal “anyone” neutralizes the particular. The scene refuses to see.

The Myth That Won’t Die

Then there’s the false complaint narrative. It came up everywhere. Petitioners told the Supreme Court that without a provision penalizing malicious complaints, grievance mechanisms would become weapons. One counsel painted a vivid hypothetical: imagine a fresher who resists ragging from a Scheduled Caste senior. The senior files a false caste discrimination complaint. The fresher, without anticipatory bail under the SC/ST Act, could be imprisoned, his career ending on his “first day, first month and first year.”

As a Feminism in India analysis pointed out, this script is borrowed straight from Men’s Rights Activists. When women get legal protection, men declare the laws will be misused for petty revenge. When Dalits get protection, savarnas shout exactly the same thing. These narratives do something specific: they drag remedial measures from the societal and historical to the personal. They diminish systemic violence by obsessing over hypothetical misuse.

Now, to be clear: no legal mechanism is immune to misuse. But the exclusive focus on this possibility, without a whisper of concern for the actual violence Dalit students face daily, reveals what the narrative is really doing. It positions the upper-caste subject as the true victim, the one most at risk from a system supposedly designed to protect the vulnerable. This is Gramsci’s “common sense” at work. The dominant group’s experience gets naturalized as universal. The subordinate group’s experience becomes questionable, particular and obscene.

The Battle over Naming

The fiercest fight was over words. Clause 3(c) defined caste-based discrimination specifically as discrimination against SC/ST/OBC communities. Petitioners called this “completely exclusive.” It created, they argued, a “hierarchy of protection.” They pointed to Clause 3(e), a broader provision prohibiting discrimination on grounds of “religion, race, caste, gender, place of birth, disability, or any of them.” Why have both? Why was 3(c) necessary if 3(e) already existed?

The answer cuts to the heart of the matter. Clause 3(e) gives you formal equality, discrimination is wrong, period, and whosoever does it to whomever. Clause 3(c) recognizes substantive equality, the understanding that caste violence in India has direction. It flows historically and structurally from dominant castes to oppressed castes. As the Supreme Court observed in the Sukanya Shantha case, the Constitution itself is “the greatest testament against historical injustices done against the marginalised castes.” Substantive equality requires that “the law must endeavour to correct historical injustices.”

To refuse this naming, to insist on a “neutral” definition that ignores historical directionality is to push the actual structure of caste violence into the obscene. It is to demand that the scene remain blind to what it doesn’t want to see. The petitioners’ call for an “inclusionary” definition is, from this perspective, a demand for comfort. A demand that the scene not be forced to confront the asymmetrical reality it obscures.

III. The Supreme Court: Definitional Politics on the Scene

The Supreme Court’s interim stay of the regulations on January 29, 2026, did more than halt a policy. It laid bare what’s really at stake in this battle over the scene and the obscene. The Court’s questions, its concerns, even its well-intentioned interventions, all of them reveal how difficult it is for institutions to see what they’ve trained themselves not to see.

What Troubled the Court

The bench, led by Chief Justice Surya Kant, was genuinely worried. They weren’t wrong to be, regulations with “very sweeping consequences” deserve scrutiny. After 75 years of trying to build a caste-less society, the Chief Justice observed, policy that appeared “regressive” and might “divide society” gave him pause. You can hear the sincere concern in his words: after all this time, after everything we’ve tried, are we moving backwards?

Justice Bagchi focused on Clause 3 (c). Wasn’t it redundant alongside Clause 3(e)? Shouldn’t we measure these definitions against the constitutional vision of Article 15, the promise that the state shall not discriminate against any citizen? There was also worry about ragging, which one counsel described as the most common form of discrimination on campus. Why didn’t the regulations address that?

Then came the question that revealed everything. The Chief Justice asked whether the regulations covered caste-based discrimination “by reserved categories that are better situated than other reserved groups.” When counsel confirmed there was no such protection, the Chief pressed further: “Has anybody examined this aspect?”

Why the Scene Can’t See

From where we’re sitting, with Teltumbde and Guru as our guides, this question is illuminating. Not because it’s wrong to ask, in the abstract, it’s perfectly reasonable. But because of what it reveals about how the scene sees the world?

The question assumes symmetry. It imagines a level playing field where power flows in multiple directions, where a student from a “better situated” reserved category might discriminate against someone from a “lesser situated” one. And yes, theoretically, this could happen. Caste is complicated. Graded inequality means there are hierarchies among oppressed castes too, some OBCs are better positioned than some SCs, some SCs than some STs.

But here’s the thing about forests and trees. To focus on this internal hierarchy while ignoring the fundamental asymmetry between oppressed castes as a whole and the dominant castes that have historically controlled every institution—that’s not nuance. That’s blindness. The question “what about discrimination by reserved categories” sounds sophisticated. It sounds like careful, balanced thinking. But its function is to distract, to make the scene appear complex while actually preserving its refusal to see the main structure of violence.

The Court’s concern about “dividing society” works similarly. It assumes a unity that the regulations would disrupt. But as the Feminism in India analysis put it, “Their remark that the regulations might ‘divide society’ are a stark reminder of how those in privilege view the world around them. The fractures already exist, they have been put in place to sustain those at the top of the food chain.” The regulations didn’t create division. They simply named it. And naming division, for those who benefit from not seeing it, always feels like violence.

Jaising’s Attempt

Senior Advocate Indira Jaising tried to bridge this gap. Appearing for the petitioners in the original Vemula-Tadvi case, the case that had made these regulations necessary in the first place, she argued that the Court couldn’t consider this matter in isolation. There were directions in the Abeda Salim Tadvi proceedings that had to be honoured. The regulations, she insisted, existed “to create an inclusive society.” She tried to show how Clause 3(c) and Clause 3(e) worked together, not against each other. But opposing counsel kept interrupting. The connections she tried to draw kept getting lost.

Jaising reminded the Bench that the 2012 Regulations had been repealed. If the Court stayed the new ones, there would be nothing. A vacuum. The Court heard her and used its powers under Article 142 to direct that the 2012 Regulations continue in force until further orders. A practical solution, perhaps. But also a telling one: better the old framework, however inadequate, than the new one that actually named names.

The Warning

The Chief Justice ended with a warning to the petitioners: don’t turn this “into a political issue.” The instruction itself is revealing. It positions the Court as a neutral arbiter standing above politics, while the petitioners’ mobilization, their insistence that caste violence is real and must be addressed is framed as potentially illegitimate, as dragging law into the muck of politics.

But here’s what this framing misses: the Court’s own observations were deeply political. The question about reverse discrimination. The concern for the general category. The worry about dividing society. These aren’t neutral positions. They’re the scene’s attempt to manage the boundary between what can be seen and what must remain invisible, what can be spoken and what must stay unspeakable. They’re the scene’s way of preserving existing power relations while sincerely believing it’s just being reasonable.

The scene doesn’t see itself as political. That’s its power. It experiences its own perspective as simply how any reasonable person would see things. The obscene, by contrast, is always marked, always particular, always suspect. The Court’s warning not to make it political is, from this perspective, the most political gesture of all. It’s the scene telling the obscene: stay in your place. Let us decide what counts as real.

IV. The Campus: Violence and Its Representation

The confrontation at Delhi University on February 13, 2026 and its aftermath, brought something into sharp focus that the legal arguments had kept at a distance. The campus became a stage where the obscene, the violence that usually stays in the shadows, whispered about in hostels, experienced in everyday humiliations erupted into plain sight. And then, just as quickly, the scene moved to push it back into invisibility.

What Happened at Arts Faculty

The day started as a demonstration in support of the UGC regulations, organized by the All India Forum for Equity and backed by AISA, the left-wing students’ association. But by the time it ended, the Arts Faculty had become a battleground. Members of the ABVP, the RSS-affiliated student organization, were there too. The two sides faced off, and things turned ugly.

A YouTuber who identifies as a Brahmin journalist came forward with a harrowing account. She claimed she was assaulted and subjected to rape threats by what she described as “a mob of nearly 500 people.” According to her, the crowd turned on her after asking about her caste. She recounted: “The girls around me whispered rape threats in my ears just because I am a Brahmin; ‘aaj tu chal, tera nanga parade niklega,’ is what they said.”

But that’s not the only version of events. AISA activists and another journalist on the scene offered a different picture. They said the woman had made casteist remarks, had shoved another woman to the ground, had provoked the crowd. The Delhi Police, as they often do in such situations, registered cross-FIRs at the Maurice Nagar police station. Both sides got to file complaints. Both sides got to be victims. Sections related to molestation, assault and criminal intimidation were invoked. The official record would show that something happened, but not what, or why, or who bore responsibility.

When the Obscene Surfaces

This is exactly the kind of moment Teltumbde writes about in The Persistence of Caste. In his analysis of the Khairlanji massacre, he argues that violence against Dalits in contemporary India isn’t some leftover from a premodern past. It’s a modern phenomenon, the obscene erupting into visibility when the established order faces a genuine challenge.

Think about what happened at the Arts Faculty. The rape threats, whether whispered or shouted. The casteist remarks, whoever initiated them. The physical confrontation. None of this looks like the old spectacles of sovereign power, where kings or landlords publicly punished those who transgressed. This is different. This is clandestine, community-sanctioned violence, emerging in the chaos of a protest, later revealed through competing media narratives and activist accounts. It’s an attempt to violently reassert a crumbling local hegemony to remind certain people of their place.

Teltumbde puts it plainly: “The violence against Dalits is not a relic of the past but a contemporary phenomenon, rooted in the challenge that Dalit assertion poses to the social order. When Dalits refuse to accept their subordinate position—when they own land, seek education, assert their rights—the dominant castes respond with violence to restore the ‘common sense’ of hierarchy.”

This is what the UGC regulations represented: a challenge to the campus’s caste order. And the violence at Arts Faculty regardless of which account you believe, regardless of who struck first was the obscene striking back. It was an attempt to restore common sense, to remind everyone that some things don’t change.

The Ban

Four days later, on February 17, Delhi University imposed a month-long ban on all public meetings, processions and demonstrations. The official reason cited “information received indicating that unrestricted public gatherings… may lead to obstruction of traffic, threats to human life, and disturbance of public peace.” The order prohibited assemblies of five or more people, the shouting of slogans and the carrying of hazardous materials.

The vice-chancellor made a public appeal. He urged teachers and students to “maintain trust in the judicial process.” He emphasised that “social harmony is the greatest thing.”

On the surface, this is reasonable. After violence, a cooling-off period. After confrontation, a return to order. The university administration performs its proper role: neutral arbiter, guardian of peace, defender of harmony.

But as Mithuraj Dhusiya, an associate professor at Hansraj College, pointed out, the ban may be using “traffic concerns as a pretext to curb mobilisations over issues such as appointments… and the recent suspensions of teachers.” In other words, the official scene of administrative order becomes a mechanism for silencing the obscene eruption into visibility. Don’t protest. Don’t gather. Don’t shout. Trust the process. Have faith in the institutions.

The Double Stage

What the campus revealed in these weeks was its nature as a double stage. On the visible scene, everything is proper. The university issues statements. The police file cross-complaints. The vice-chancellor appeals for harmony. The ban is justified by traffic concerns and public safety. The official discourse is one of neutrality, balance, procedural correctness.

But beneath this scene, operating in the shadows, is the obscene of caste violence and its contestation. The whispered rape threats. The casteist remarks shouted in the heat of confrontation. The student organizations mobilizing along caste lines. The informal networks through which ABVP coordinates its response. The everyday humiliations that never make it into police reports. All of this operates off-stage, invisible to the official record, yet determining everything that happens on it.

The university, like the state more broadly, manages the boundary between scene and obscene. It decides what becomes visible and what remains hidden. It frames some things as political and therefore suspect, other things as administrative and therefore neutral. It preserves existing power relations while sincerely believing it’s just keeping the peace.

The obscene erupted at Arts Faculty on February 13. For a moment, it was visible. Then the scene moved quickly to push it back into invisibility. The ban. The appeal for harmony. The trust in the judicial process. All the familiar mechanisms for managing the boundary, for ensuring that what must not be seen stays unseen.

V. The State: Schizophrenia Institutionalized

The ruling BJP’s response to the controversy reveals something deeper than political calculation, though calculation is certainly part of it. What we see is the Indian state caught in a contradiction it cannot resolve, speaking out of both sides of its mouth because it is itself split down the middle. Anand Teltumbde has spent years analysing this condition, and his framework helps us understand what’s really going on.

The State’s Caste Character

In Republic of Caste: Thinking Equality in the Time of Neoliberal Hindutva (2018), Teltumbde makes an argument that should be obvious but somehow still needs saying. The Indian state is not some neutral arbiter floating above society, untouched by caste. It is itself constituted by caste relations. Its institutions, its personnel, its everyday practices all are shaped by the caste order. This is why the state can simultaneously enact progressive laws and fail to implement them. This is why it can speak the language of equality while quietly reproducing hierarchy.

The UGC controversy is a perfect illustration. Through the University Grants Commission, the state produced genuinely progressive regulations aimed at protecting Dalit, Tribal, and OBC students from the violence they face on campus. This was the state acting in its constitutional identity, the identity that promises substantive equality, that acknowledges historical injustice, that tries to make things right.

But then the Supreme Court stayed those regulations and the political leadership welcomed the stay. The same state that created the protections now celebrated their suspension. Two voices, coming from the same body. This is not hypocrisy in the simple sense. This is a deeper split—between what the state formally commits to and what it actually is.

The Forward-Backward Dilemma

The Indian Express captured this dilemma well in its reporting. The BJP, over the last decade, has worked hard to expand its base beyond the upper castes that traditionally supported it. Since the 1990s, upper-caste communities in northern, western and central India have preferred the BJP, while OBCs, SCs, and STs tended toward Congress or regional parties. But under Narendra Modi, the party has made serious inroads into these communities, through higher representation in candidate lists and ministerial positions, through appointing Dalits and Tribals to top constitutional posts like President and Vice-President, through linking Hindutva issues to caste optics.

As Seshadri Chari, former editor of the RSS-linked magazine The Organiser, put it: “The BJP’s Ram Temple, Article 370 and other issues were basically an expression of cultural nationalism… However, the Opposition continued to come out with strategies to counter it. The Congress has recently decided to counter the BJP’s Hindutva cultural nationalism by playing on the caste fault line. The BJP has answered this by putting its core agendas within a caste framework.”

This is the context in which the UGC regulations landed. They put the government in a genuine quandary. An ABVP insider noted that even some pro-Hindutva influencers—like author Anand Ranganathan—have been critical of the BJP on this count. “The Congress’s criticism does not matter that much,” the insider said, “but such voices are taken seriously by common middle-class supporters of the BJP and the Sangh.”

The dilemma is real. If the government supports the regulations, it risks alienating the upper-caste base that still forms the core of its support. If it opposes them, it undermines its carefully cultivated image as a party that cares about OBC and Dalit interests. There is no clean solution, only management of the contradiction.

Two Voices, One State

Watch how the state speaks in this controversy. Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan offered what was described as a “blanket assurance”, the regulations would not be misused, and no one would face harassment. This is the constitutional voice, affirming protection, promising fairness, addressing the scene.

But simultaneously, the government welcomed the Supreme Court stay that suspended the regulations. The ABVP national organizing secretary, Ashish Chauhan, explained that the organization had welcomed the stay because “some words were unclear,” adding that “the groups to be protected need protection” while “other groups should not fear any misuse.”

This is the political voice, addressing the obscene. It acknowledges the anxieties simmering among the upper-caste base. It reassures them that their fears are heard. It frames the stay not as a defeat for equality but as a clarification, a fine-tuning, a protection against misuse.

Two voices, speaking from the same state, to different audiences, about the same regulations. They cannot be reconciled because the state itself cannot be reconciled, split between its constitutional identity and its actual embeddedness in caste society. This is what Teltumbde means when he says the state is not above caste but constituted by it. It cannot simply decide to be neutral. It speaks out of both sides of its mouth because it has two mouths.

The Ambedkar Parallel

Outlook India drew a parallel that’s worth sitting with. When B.R. Ambedkar proposed the Hindu Code Bill in parliament, he faced “aggressive resistance” that reflected, in the magazine’s words, “an attempt to preserve a conservative social order rather than uphold constitutional values.” When Jawaharlal Nehru eventually withdrew the bill, the mouthpiece of the Arya Mahila Hitkarini Mahaparishad celebrated it as the “victory of divine forces over demonic forces.”

Then as now, reforms aimed at addressing structural inequality were framed as attacks on tradition. Then as now, they were called divisive, threatening to social harmony. Then as now, the state retreated in the face of upper-caste mobilization.

The parallel is instructive because it shows how little has changed. The specific issues are different—the Hindu Code Bill addressed women’s rights within family law, the UGC regulations address caste discrimination in higher education. But the underlying dynamic is the same. The constitutional promise of equality collides with the social reality of hierarchy. And when that collision happens, the state, constituted as it is by that hierarchy finds ways to manage the collision without resolving it.

Nehru withdrew the bill. The Supreme Court stayed the regulations. Different times, different institutions, same outcome. The state speaks its two voices, and the obscene continues its work, mostly unseen.

VI. Dalit Counter-Mobilisation: Forcing the Obscene into Visibility

Against all of this, the Court’s blindness, the state’s split voice, the violence on campus, the ban on protest, Dalit students, activists and their allies keep organising. They keep forcing the obscene into visibility. This is not just activism. It is, in Guru’s terms, theorizing from below. In Teltumbde’s, it is counter-hegemonic assertion.

Guru: Knowledge from the Obscene

In The Cracked Mirror, Guru makes a claim that cuts deep. Dalit experience is not raw material waiting to be processed by upper-caste theorists into proper knowledge. It is itself a site of knowledge production. The people who have been pushed into the obscene see things that the people on the scene cannot. Not because they’re smarter, but because of where they stand.

“The experience of humiliation is not just an object of analysis but a source of critical insight,” Guru writes. “Those who have been pushed into the obscene have a perspective on the scene that those who occupy it cannot access. Theorizing from the obscene is not a supplement to mainstream theory but a challenge to its very foundations.”

Think about what this means. The mothers’ petition. The Dalit student protests. The work of scholars like Anil Chamadia. These are not just people demanding things. They are producing knowledge. They are refusing to let Dalit experience be dismissed as anecdotal, as merely personal, as insufficiently theoretical. They are insisting that the scene confront what it has worked so hard to exclude.

The Mothers who wouldn’t disappear

The UGC regulations exist because of this struggle. They exist because Radhika Vemula and Abeda Tadvi, mothers of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi, filed a joint petition in the Supreme Court. They didn’t have to do that. They could have grieved privately, quietly, the way the scene prefers. Instead, they dragged the reality of campus discrimination into the national eyes cape.

Their lawyers submitted a number: 115 students took their own lives between 2004 and 2024. Many of them Dalit. The UGC itself filed an affidavit in October 2023 admitting that caste discrimination against Dalit students was not some “unfounded presumption” but an actual, documented reality.

The mothers’ petition made visible what the obscene had rendered invisible. The suicides. The daily humiliations. The institutional failures that everyone knew about but no one named. The regulations were the state’s response, inadequate, contested, and now stayed, but a response nonetheless. Forced visibility produces results, even if those results are then rolled back.

Refusing to Disappear Again

The Supreme Court stayed the regulations. DU banned protests. The scene did what it always does: tried to push the obscene back into invisibility. But organizations like AISA keep mobilizing. Students keep protesting. They refuse to let the obscene return to comfortable darkness.

Feminism in India put it plainly: “The decision to halt the regulations is just another attempt at denying basic dignity to Dalits and keeping the caste system in place.” The counter-protests are an answer to this. They say: we saw what you tried to hide. We’re not going to un-see it just because you’re uncomfortable.

Teltumbde: Why Mobilisation Matters

Teltumbde, writing about the protests after the Khairlanji massacre, captures what’s at stake in this kind of mobilization. He says the protests weren’t really about getting justice for one family, though that mattered too. They were about something bigger: forcing the state and society to confront the reality of caste violence that the official scene works so hard to deny. They were an attempt to shatter the hegemony of denial, to make the obscene visible.

The same is true here. The mobilizations around the UGC regulations are not just about supporting a particular policy. They’re about the fundamental question of whether caste will be permitted to continue its hidden work, or whether it will be forced into visibility and thereby into contestation.

What the Numbers Mean

Anil Chamadia pointed to something striking: reported discrimination cases went up by 118.4%. The scene might look at this and see a problem, too many complaints, too much disruption. But Chamadia sees it differently. The increase, he says, is “directly linked to growing awareness among marginalised students.”

When Dalit students enter universities in larger numbers. When they refuse to accept humiliation silently. When they organise and protest and demand accountability. The obscene gets forced into visibility. The numbers go up. And then the backlash comes, the violence, the protests bans, and the Supreme Court stays. This is the dynamic Teltumbde describes. Dalit assertion provokes upper-caste violence, which provokes further Dalit mobilization. The boundary between scene and obscene becomes a site of continuous struggle.

The Intellectual Work

None of this happens in a vacuum. The “growing awareness” Chamadia talks about is produced, in part, by the intellectual work of scholars like Guru and Teltumbde themselves. They have given language to experiences that were previously suffered in silence. They have provided theoretical frameworks, like the scene/obscene dialectic that help people understand their situation and act upon it.

This is what Guru means by theorising from the obscene. Not just describing oppression. Producing the conceptual tools for overcoming it. Dalit students now have a vocabulary for naming what they experience. They have legal categories, “caste discrimination,” “hostile environment,” “institutional failure” that were forged through decades of struggle. They have frameworks that help them see that their individual humiliation is not just personal bad luck but structural violence.

The UGC controversy is, in part, a testament to the success of this intellectual project. The backlash is real, the violence is real, the stay is real. But so is the visibility. So is the mobilisation. So is the refusal to disappear.

The obscene keeps erupting. The scene keeps trying to push it back. That struggle—unequal, ongoing, with no guaranteed outcome—is where we are.

VII. Theoretical Synthesis: The Controversy as Exemplar of Caste’s Schizophrenic Modernity

The UGC controversy illustrates every dimension of our theoretical framework, now enriched by the insights of Teltumbde and Guru:

The controversy reveals that caste’s modernity is not defined by its disappearance but by its strategic disaggregation. Power flows by maintaining the split between a disavowing public scene and a vibrant private obscene. The UGC regulations attempted to extend the scene’s reach into the obscene, to make the state’s power felt in the intimate spaces where caste actually lives. The backlash was the obscene defending itself, refusing to be illuminated.

The Supreme Court’s intervention, staying the regulations, questioning their definitional logic suspended the outcome. But the dialectic continues. Every protest, every counter-protest, every legal argument, every editorial, is a skirmish on the boundary between scene and obscene. And as our framework teaches us, that boundary is where power does its most important work.

Conclusion: The Dialectic’s Latest Act

The UGC controversy is not an isolated policy dispute. It never was. It is the latest act in the long drama of caste’s schizophrenic modernity—the permanent, unresolved tension between a constitutional scene that promises equality and a social obscene that quietly, persistently reproduces hierarchy.

The regulations did not emerge from nowhere. They came from a specific genealogy of struggle. The mothers of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi, who could have grieved in private and instead filed a joint petition in the Supreme Court. The 115 student suicides between 2004 and 2024, many of them Dalit, each one a story the scene preferred not to see. The 118 percent increase in reported discrimination, which the scene reads as disruption but which really measures growing awareness, growing refusal to suffer in silence. The regulations were an attempt to create mechanisms that would penetrate the obscene, that would make visible what the scene had rendered invisible. They were an attempt—flawed, contested, but genuine—to fulfil the constitutional promise of substantive equality.

The backlash revealed the power of the obscene. It was not organized in any formal sense, not announced in advance, not easy to document. That is precisely its strength. Upper-caste students mobilized through informal networks, through what Teltumbde calls “social capital”, the connections that operate off-stage, invisible to the official record. They framed themselves as victims, as the truly vulnerable ones. And they succeeded. They convinced the Supreme Court that regulations designed to protect Dalit students actually threatened “social harmony.” The narrative of false complaints, of reverse discrimination, of the general category as the real victim—this is the hegemony of denial operating at full capacity. This is what Teltumbde means by “camouflaged” caste, what Guru analyses as the scene’s epistemic violence. It does not need to defend hierarchy openly. It only needs to make hierarchy invisible, to make the structures that produce vulnerability disappear, to make the vulnerable look like the powerful.

The state, caught between its constitutional obligations and its political base, did what it always does in such moments. It spoke with two voices. One voice assured the constitutional audience that protections would remain, that no one would be harassed. The other voice, quieter but more decisive, welcomed the judicial stay that rescued the government from its dilemma. Two voices, same state. The schizophrenia is not a bug; it is the feature.

The campus revealed itself as a double stage. On the visible scene, the university administration performed neutrality, issuing statements, filing cross-FIRs, appealing for harmony, banning protests in the name of traffic. Beneath this scene, the obscene did its work: the confrontation at Arts Faculty, the whispered rape threats, the casteist remarks, the informal mobilization along caste lines. And when the obscene erupted into visibility on February 13, the scene moved quickly to push it back. The protest ban was not about traffic. It was about management. It was about re-establishing the boundary.

And throughout, Dalit students, activists, and intellectuals continued the work of forcing the obscene into visibility. They organized, protested, theorised and refused to let the moment pass. This is what Guru calls “theorizing from the obscene”, not supplementing mainstream theory but challenging its foundations. This is what Teltumbde analyses as counter-hegemonic assertion and not just demanding inclusion but shattering the terms of exclusion. It is the work of breaking the double stage.

The Supreme Court will hear the matter again in March 2026. Whatever it decides, the controversy has already revealed something fundamental about the architecture of caste power in contemporary India. It has shown that the boundary between “scene” and “obscene” is not natural. It is political. It is constantly contested, constantly renegotiated. It has shown that the struggle for caste equality is, at its heart, a struggle over visibility. Over what can be seen, what can be spoken, what can be named. Over who gets to define reality.

As long as the schism persists, as long as the official scene disavows what the social obscene reproduces, caste will endure in its schizophrenic modern form. It will adapt, mutate, camouflage itself. It will learn new languages, wear new clothes, inhabit new institutions. But its very adaptability is also its vulnerability. Each time it is forced into visibility, each time the obscene is dragged into the scene, the possibility of transformation opens. Each eruption is also an opportunity.

The project of annihilation, as Ambedkar envisioned it, requires nothing less than the demolition of the double stage. Not just reforming the scene. Not just documenting the obscene. But destroying the architecture that keeps them separate. The UGC controversy is one battle in that long war. Not the first, not the last. But a battle nonetheless.

Teltumbde writes that “caste’s genius lies in its plasticity.” He is right. But plasticity cuts both ways. What can adapt can also be broken. What can mutate can also be killed. Each moment of forced visibility is a wound. The question is whether enough wounds can be inflicted, enough times, in enough places, to bring the whole structure down?

Guru teaches us that this struggle must be waged not only on the streets and in the courts but in the realm of theory itself. Theorising from the obscene, centering Dalit experience, refusing the scene’s abstractions, insisting on the specificity of caste violence is not a supplement to political work. It is political work. It is the work of producing the conceptual tools that make visible what the scene works so hard to hide. This article has attempted to contribute to that project, using the tools of Foucault and Gramsci while remaining grounded in the intellectual traditions of Dalit Studies. The scene/obscene dialectic, enriched by Teltumbde’s analysis of camouflage and Guru’s insistence on theorizing from below, offers a framework for understanding not only this controversy but the broader condition of caste in contemporary India.

The double stage still stands. Its foundations hold, for now. But they are cracking. Every protest, every petition, every act of theorising from below is another crack. The question is not whether the structure will fall—all structures fall, eventually. The question is whether we will be the ones to bring it down, and what we will build in its place.

(The author teaches history at Shivaji College, University of Delhi. He can be reached at skandpriya@shivaji.du.ac.in)

References

Chamadia, Anil. Interview with University World News, 2026.

Feminism in India. “What The 2026 UGC Regulations Revealed About Caste, Merit and Savarna Victimhood.” February 9, 2026.

Guru, Gopal, and Sundar Sarukkai. The Cracked Mirror: An Indian Debate on Experience and Theory. Oxford University Press, 2012.

The Hindu. “As SC stays UGC equity rules, protection to marginalised castes came from a Constitutional promise to end ‘historical oppression’.” January 30, 2026.

Hindustan Times. “Protests, counter-FIRs, now a ban at DU: Campus on the boil over UGC rules against caste discrimination | Explained.” February 16, 2026.

India Today. “Travesty of UGC Campus Rules 2026: They turn a protective shield into a deadly sword.” January 29, 2026.

The Indian Express. “As UGC row simmers, why BJP dilemma over ‘forward vs backward’ has deepened.” February 18, 2026.

Outlook India. “The Socio-Cultural Debate Over the UGC’s Equity Regulations.” February 16, 2026.

Supreme Court Observer. “Supreme Court stays 2026 UGC equity regulations.” January 29, 2026.

Teltumbde, Anand. The Persistence of Caste: The Khairlanji Murders and India’s Hidden Apartheid. Zed Books, 2010.

Teltumbde, Anand. Dalits: Past, Present and Future. Routledge, 2016.

Teltumbde, Anand. Republic of Caste: Thinking Equality in the Time of Neoliberal Hindutva. Navayana, 2018.

Thorat Committee Report on AIIMS Discrimination, 2007.

University World News. “New rules aim to tackle campus-based caste discrimination.” January 20, 2026.

University Grants Commission (Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions) Regulations, 2026. The Gazette of India.

Zee News. “Delhi University enforces 30-day curbs on protests after UGC unrest.” February 17, 2026.

Related:

The Double Stage: Caste’s Schizophrenic Modernity between Spectacle and Shadow

The Elephant in the Mud: Crisis of Identity Politics and BSP

UGC Guidelines 2026: AISA Protest at Delhi University followed by sexual abuse allegations amid police presence

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Dhananjay, one of the complainants is a former president of the JNU Students’ Union (JNUSU) and the first Dalit student to be elected to the post in nearly two decades in 2024 has filed a detailed complaint with the National Commission for Scheduled Castes (NCSC) on the issue. The second complaint was filed by Suraj Kumar Baudh, founder of Mission Ambedkar, a forum working on spreading B R Ambedkar’s teachings.

This casteist statement by the Vice Chancellor of JNU—even otherwise a controversial person—has led to widespread protests by all students of this iconic university but especially Dalit Bahujan students. Slogans like “Ambedkarwaali Azaadi” have echoed all over the campus.

JNU की VC ने दलितों और Blacks के “victimhood” जैसे नीचे स्तर की बात की, साथ ही साथ UGC रेगुलेशन के ख़िलाफ़ माहौल बनाया।

“अंबेडकर वाली आज़ादी” के नारों के साथ अब पूरा कैंपस VC के इस्तीफ़े की माँग कर रहा है।

ऐसे VC के रहते कैसे कोई बहुजन छात्र विश्विद्यालय में सुरक्षित महसूस… pic.twitter.com/m1iCEwrRjw

— Priyanka Bharti (@priyanka2bharti) February 23, 2026

Thousands marching in JNU chanting Ambedkar’s name against a VC who dismisses lived caste oppression as “Drug addiction”
This is not leadership — this is Manu-smriti in VC robes.
Remove her!
#Sack_Castiest_JNU_VC
pic.twitter.com/TTR7tcHoG4

— Ravi Ratan (@scribe_it) February 23, 2026

The current union of students, JNUSU has also protested the remarks.

In the detailed complaint, while seeking Pandit’s removal as the V-C in his complaint submitted to the NCSC chairperson on Tuesday, Dhananjay – a PhD scholar at JNU – accused the V-C of making statements that “prima facie promote feelings of hatred and ill-will against the people belonging to the Dalit and other marginalised communities,” and sought action under Section 3(1)(u) of the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989.

Dhananjay has argued that the comments – coming from the head of a Central university – had created a “serious detrimental impact” on Dalit students and had “clearly given rise to feelings of hatred and ill-will against students belonging from Dalit and other marginalised communities”.

“The conduct of Santishree D Pandit, being a person holding a responsible academic office, is criminal and reprehensible,” the complaint said, adding that educational institutions “ought to be sanctuaries of inclusivity, enlightenment, and constitutional morality”. Instead, it alleged, her statements had “sown division and inflicted emotional distress upon students and members of the Dalit and marginalised community”.

The detailed complaint may be read here. Dhananjay, in his complaint has also pointed out to the deleterious impact of such statements by the V-C PAndit. The complaint states that, “there have been incidents of harassment on students belonging from the Dalit and marginalised communities. Furthermore, the general atmosphere against the students and people belonging from the Dalit and marginalised communities has become hostile.”

Dhananjay the former President of JNUSU in 2023-24 and a PHD scholar in Arts & Aesthetics has also argued in his complaint that, “the Courts of our country have repeatedly emphasised, that Public Authorities should exercise caution in their speeches and public statement. Needless to mention, Ms. Santishree D. Pandit, has failed to adhere to such directives of the Hon’ble Court. Moreover, as the Vice Chancellor of an university, it was the duty of Ms. Santishree D.Pandit, to ensure a safe and peaceful environment for the students of her university. However, by making the said statement, she has clearly failed to discharge the said duties. It bears mention, that as a result of her statement, students are apprehending threat to their safety and security and are living under an atmosphere of mental agony.”

Besides, the complaint states that the said statement also amounts to hate speech, as they humiliate, incite prejudice and social hostility against a historically marginalised community. The statement promotes feeling of enmity, hatred and ill-will on the basis of caste. Such speech insults the historical struggles faced by the said marginalised community, undermines social harmony and perpetuates systemic discrimination, which the Constitution of India and special legislations such as the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act seek to eradicate.

Reliance was placed in Dhananjay’s complaint upon the judgement of the Supreme Court in the matter titled as Vishal Tiwari vs. Union of India & Ors. [W.P. (Crl.) No.466 of 2025]. Relevant portion of the said order is being given here under:-

“While we are not entertaining the present writ petition, we make it clear that any attempt to spread communal hatred or indulge in hate speech must be dealt with an iron hand. Hate speech cannot be tolerated as it leads to loss of dignity and self-worth of the targeted group members, contributes to disharmony amongst groups, 5 and erodes tolerance and open-mindedness, which is a must for a multi-cultural society committed to the idea of equality. Any attempt to cause alienation or humiliation of the targeted group is a criminal offence and must be dealt with accordingly.”

In conclusion the young student leader states that “the conduct of Ms.Santishree D. Pandit, being a person holding a responsible academic office, is criminal and reprehensible. Educational institutions ought to be sanctuaries of inclusivity, enlightenment, and constitutional morality. Instead, her statements have sown division and inflicted emotional distress upon students and members of the Dalit and marginalised communities. It also bears mention, that till date Vice Chancelor has not issued any statement of apology. This simply bolsters the fact, that the statement given by the Vice Chancellor was a well thought statement, which has been given to create discrimination and to promote feeling of hatred and ill will against the people belonging from Dalit and other marginalised community.”

The complaint invokes sections 196 and 197 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023, that are sections related to words and actions that promote feeling of enmity, hatred and ill-will on the basis of caste.”

It is under Article 338 of the Constitution that prescribes that it shall be the duty of the National Commission for Scheduled Castes to investigate and monitor all matters relating to the safeguards provided for the Scheduled Castes under this Constitution, or under any other law for the time being in force, or under any order of the Government, and to evaluate the working of such safeguards that the complaint has been filed.

Investigation and further action against the Vice Chancellor in accordance with the law and Constitution has been sought. The complaint also urges that “appropriate authorities to register a case under the relevant provisions of the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989, including Section 3(1)(u) and recommend stern disciplinary and legal action, including the immediate removal of the said Vice Chancellor from her position, so as to uphold justice and deter such conduct in future.

The second complaint filed by Baudh also raised similar concerns, accusing Pandit of making “demeaning and dismissive” remarks. That complaint said Pandit’s statements suggested that efforts to address caste inequities were merely claims of “victimhood” rather than “legitimate claims for equality, dignity, and constitutional safeguards”.

Baudh has requested NCSC to “take cognizance of the matter and examine whether the remarks promote prejudice, incite hostility or constitute contempt or disrespect towards scheduled caste communities” and “issue a notice seeking detailed explanation from the V-C”.

Earlier, responding to the controversy earlier, Pandit had told PTI that her remarks had been taken out of context. “I am a Bahujan myself, I come from an OBC background,” she had said, adding that she was referring to what she described as “woke” interpretations of history and the creation of “imaginary worlds” around permanent victimhood.

On UGC’s equity regulations, which were stayed by the Supreme Court last month, Pandit had said during the podcast interview that they had been introduced without adequate consultation. “It was done secretly. Many of us who are part of the system didn’t even know what was in it,” she said, calling the regulations unnecessary and constitutionally flawed.

She had also defended the JNU administration’s decision to rusticate five student leaders for allegedly vandalising surveillance equipment at the Ambedkar Library. “They destroyed this property, literally broke it down, sat on top of it, took pictures and they themselves put it on social media as though they have done something great,” she said, adding that the students had been charged under what she described as a “very strong Act,” apparently referring to the Prevention of Damage to Public Property Act, 1984.

The administration, she had said, had shown restraint by debarring the students for two semesters and imposing a fine of Rs 20,000. “It is taxpayers’ money. I am answerable as a Vice-Chancellor to the government, to Parliament, and to the people of India,” she had added.

On Monday, JNUSU leaders were booked on charges, including rioting and criminal conspiracy, after the university filed a complaint with the police in connection to the student protests on Sunday night against Pandit.

Related:

An open letter to the JNU VC: Your association with RSS defies humanism, anti-colonial struggle for Indian democracy!

Will focus on ‘Indo-centric narratives’, implementing NEP: New JNU VC 

UGC Guidelines 2026: AISA Protest at Delhi University followed by sexual abuse allegations amid police presence

The post JNU: Former JNUSU President complains against Vice Chancellor’s casteist & racist remarks appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The paper has been published by the by the non-profit National Bureau of Economic Research based in Massachusetts. The authors of the paper – Sam Asher, Kritarth Jha, Anjali Adukia, Paul Novosad and Brandon Tan – have observed that while the data analysed in the study dates back to 2011-13, the “neighbourhood patterns described in the paper are likely to be persistent and have emerged over decades of migration and policy.”

According to the observations and findings in this paper, 26% of India’s Muslims live in neighbourhoods that are more than 80% Muslim, while 17% of SCs live in neighbourhoods that are more than 80% SC. Scheduled Caste segregation in cities is just as high as it is in rural areas, and it is even higher for Muslims, the data shows.

The paper also found that government services – like secondary schools, clinics and hospitals, electricity, water, and sewerage – were all “systematically worse” in marginalised neighbourhoods as compared to other localities in the same cities. The paper said that such differences in service access were “statistically significant and substantial”.

Besides, the study has found that children from such segregated neighbourhoods are likely to fare worse than those from non-marginalised localities. “A child growing up in a 100% Muslim neighbourhood can expect to obtain two fewer years of education than a child growing up in a 0% Muslim neighbourhood. Kids living in SC neighbourhoods face a penalty only slightly smaller. The neighbourhood effect explains about half of the urban educational disadvantage of SC and Muslim children,” the paper said.

Related:

Gujarat’s Disturbed Areas Act: Largest Muslim Ghetto Glaring Contrast to Hindu Settlement

The ‘Harijans’ of Bangladesh: Victims of constitutional neglect and social isolation

Gujarat Polls: Juhapura, The Largest Muslim Ghetto In Gujarat, Is A Picture Of Deliberate Neglect

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