In the past few days, when we raised questions about the new UGC regulations, some people from one section of society said, “Sir, you used to say caste doesn’t matter. Now look, you’re becoming casteist too. You’re anti-Dalit, anti-OBC, anti-SC/ST.”
SC/ST & OBC Controversy Over UGC Regulations: Facts, Concerns & Solutions
But really, the question shouldn’t be, “What are you being told?” The real question should be, “Should asking a question automatically end the conversation? And if asking questions is a crime, what use is democracy?”
Of course, I’m not bothered by political people—they have their own compulsions. But a large part of society that I am connected with felt that today we should engage with them, address the questions that are coming to their minds. After all, their community intellectuals have also said things like: “Surely you would also admit that discrimination happens against Dalits, Adivasis, and other backward groups in educational institutions?”
Many questions of this kind were sent to us by people from Dalit, OBC, SC, and ST communities. There were even more questions, such as: “If discrimination happens, how exactly does it happen?” And then, they ask, “So now you are saying the rules are wrong?”
If a crime is committed, and the law has been made strict to punish the guilty, then what’s the problem? Some people refer to UGC data, which claims that cases of discrimination have increased by 118.4%. In that context, they ask, “Why are you, as a journalist, opposing this? Are you doing it just because you’re casteist too?”
We felt it was important to have a meaningful dialogue. That’s why this article is for those who still believe in conversation above caste—those who are willing to rise above caste prejudices. For them, our message is clear: even if someone with caste bias tries to block progress, we will support zero tolerance against discrimination. Because in the end, anyone who clings to caste can move aside; the focus here is on fairness and justice.
Your questions, our answers, and then your counter-questions—we have prepared responses to all of them.
The first question often raised by Dalit, OBC, SC, and ST students is: “Does discrimination happen in colleges and educational institutions against Dalits, Adivasis, and other backward communities?”
The straightforward answer is: Yes, it does, and this is a bitter, hard-to-accept truth. No responsible society can turn a blind eye to this reality.
However, the argument is that discrimination does not have a fixed face or caste. If we assume that discrimination is always one-sided, we end up rejecting the universal principle of justice, which demands equality for all.
At this point, many may say: “By claiming that discrimination does not have a fixed face, you are giving casteist individuals a clean chit. Are you denying the historical exploitation that has existed in society?”
The answer is: No.
This argument is not meant to deny past exploitation but to ensure that the scope of justice is complete. Strict laws are absolutely necessary to address the humiliation and oppression that SC, ST, and OBC communities have endured—and we strongly advocate for their proper enforcement.
But the question here is: Should the scope of protection be so narrowly defined that if the same humiliation or injustice occurs to another student—one from a different community—the law refuses to recognize them as a victim?
Justice is strong only when it recognizes pain, not when it filters pain based on identity. When we make justice selective—applying it only to certain groups—we do not eliminate discrimination; we only give it a new legal form. The essence of justice should be based on the victim’s suffering, not the victim’s identity.
If the law refuses to acknowledge someone’s pain, that is not justice—it is division.
Here, a counter-question often arises: “Sir, the UGC data shows an increase of around 124% in discrimination cases—what do you say about that?”
Let’s look closely at this. These figures are being used to justify the new UGC regulations, claiming there has been a massive spike in campus discrimination. According to UGC data from 2019–20 to 2023–24, cases have reportedly increased by 118.4%. At first glance, that sounds alarming.
But if we dig deeper, we see that in 2019–20, the number of complaints rose from 173 to 378. In total, complaints during this period were around 1,160.
Now, here’s the real context. According to the government report for 2021–22, there are 43.3 million students enrolled in higher education across India. That means the data being cited to justify these regulations represents less than 0.03% of all students.
To put it simply: among 10,000 students, not even one has filed a complaint. And we are talking about formal complaints here, not hearsay.
My straightforward question is: Will you jeopardize the equality and rights of millions of students based on such a minuscule fraction—less than 0.1%—of cases? Can the guarantee of Article 14 of the Constitution be weakened based on this statistical spike, which is being portrayed as over 100%?
Moreover, an increase in complaints does not automatically mean that discrimination itself has increased. Rising numbers may reflect awareness, reporting mechanisms, or other factors—not a sudden surge in injustice.
Today, portals like e-Samadhan have made it easier for students to raise their voices. This is a sign of growing awareness. It does not necessarily mean that the actual incidence of crimes has increased.
The real question is: Are we using this data to ensure justice, or are we using it to create fear and impose one-sided laws?
Now, another question arises: “Sir, okay, some percentage of cases exists, you admit that. But isn’t discrimination itself unconstitutional?”
The answer is absolutely yes. Article 15 of the Constitution prohibits caste-based discrimination. At the same time, Article 14 guarantees equal protection of the law to everyone in India. Protection under the law is not a special privilege for any one group—it is a fundamental right for every citizen of India, all 1.4 billion of us.
Any law or regulation that weighs citizens differently when it comes to protection violates the very spirit of the Constitution. And this principle is especially understood and upheld by SC, ST, and OBC communities themselves.
At this point, a counter-argument often comes up: “But sir, what about affirmative action alongside Articles 14 and 15? You must agree that general category students—savarnas—already have social power. Don’t they need less legal protection?”
Here, the answer is straightforward. The Constitution permits affirmative action, such as reservations, to ensure equal opportunities for historically disadvantaged communities.
But this cannot mean excluding any citizen from legal protection. Article 15 prevents discrimination, but it does not negate the core principle of Article 14, which guarantees equal protection of the law for everyone.
Law can and should act as a shield for disadvantaged groups—but it cannot become a weapon against another group. The Constitution does not allow that, and the Supreme Court has affirmed this.
In the E.P. Royappa case (1974), the Court clearly stated that equality means protection from arbitrary actions by the government. The scale of justice should weigh the harm suffered by the current victim, not the historical mistakes of their ancestors.
Affirmative action is a tool to promote equality, not a license to deny legal protection.
Now, the next question arises: “Shouldn’t there be a proper legal system to punish the guilty?”
Absolutely, yes. We have said this from the very beginning, and we mentioned it in our previous videos as well. Strict laws are essential to address crimes like discrimination and harassment.
However, the system must not be biased. Punishing someone without a preliminary inquiry, or failing to assign accountability in the case of false complaints, is a misuse of the law. Any system that does not ensure responsibility in cases of false accusations is not justice—it is an imbalance in the power of the law.
A counter-question often comes up: “Opposing punishment before an investigation weakens the law. The accused might destroy evidence or intimidate the victim.” These concerns are legitimate, which is why immediate protection for the victim is necessary.
But equating protection with punishment is a serious mistake. For example, if you consider suspending the accused immediately as the only solution, that is unfair to the accused as well. Measures like monitoring the accused or restricting their contact with the victim can keep the victim safe while also preserving the possibility of an impartial investigation.
Discussing false complaints is not about silencing victims; it is about maintaining faith in the law. The fundamental principle of justice is that a person is innocent until proven guilty.
In our previous video, we discussed the Vishnu Tiwari case, which serves as a warning: one individual spent 20 years in prison due to false allegations. During this time, his father and brother passed away, his home fell into ruins, and by the time he was released, so much had been lost.
The Supreme Court, in the Subhash Kashinath Mahajan case (2018), clearly stated that action without a preliminary inquiry can violate personal freedom. The law should be a tool for protection, not a weapon for revenge.
Now, another interesting question arises: “Shouldn’t such legal safeguards be demanded particularly for minorities, especially Muslims?”
Discrimination happens to them too. And this demand for protection is entirely reasonable. Legal protection should be universal, not selective.
But when the law chooses only certain groups, it fails to support everyone. For some, it becomes a safety net, while others are left vulnerable. When the law selectively provides protection based on identity, the concept of equal citizenship becomes hollow.
In a campus, taunting a Muslim student because of their name or clothing, or isolating a minority student based on their identity, is just as serious a humiliation as discrimination against anyone else. Articles 29 and 30 deal with running colleges, but here we are talking about humiliation that happens inside campuses.
If discrimination based on identity is a crime, then the scope of protection must be equally broad. Democracy does not give protection based on identity; it responds to suffering, wherever it occurs.
A counter-question that often arises is: “How can discrimination happen if the UGC guideline mandates teams of 10 people? How can general category students face injustice?”
The issue here is not numbers—it’s freedom. Clause 3 of the new rules puts pressure on institutions: it threatens funds, heavy fines, and penalties. Under such fear, administrations often consider taking immediate action easier than conducting impartial investigations. Decisions then get influenced more by institutional fear and political pressure than by facts.
Another counter-question comes from SC/ST or OBC intellectuals: “Why are you afraid? If you haven’t done anything wrong, why should any action be taken against you?”
Here’s the reality: the language of the regulations and their practical impact are not the same, my friend. Technically, suspension is not considered punishment, but for the student who is suspended, losing time and being socially perceived as guilty is no less severe than a major penalty.
The process of justice should not itself become a punishment. Equality should move forward acknowledging past injustices, but it should never be exclusionary.
Read Also: Is the Modi Government Ignoring Students? UGC 2026 Rules Explained
If, in the name of correcting historical wrongs, we create a new legal injustice, we deviate from the true goal of equality. Social justice does not mean limiting protection—it means ensuring protection for everyone.
We are not against protection itself; we are against selective protection. We want every student on campus to feel confident that the law stands for them just as strongly as it does for anyone else.
The definition of justice should be simple: it can never be selective. Either it applies to all, or what you are calling justice is politics—pure politics.
General category students today are not demanding any special privilege. They are simply asking for equality under the law. Equality does not mean reducing protection for anyone; it means no one is left with less protection.
What do you think about this issue? Should legal protection be the same for everyone? Share your thoughts in the comment section. If you support equal legal protection, please share this article. If you disagree or have questions, write them in the comments. We will try to respond, provided the question is different from the ones already addressed in this article.
We read and consider every question, because you are part of our family, and we believe in dialogue.
For those who didn’t read the article and left immediately, here’s a simple takeaway: “Caste exists, but justice should not see caste at all.”
