Legislative milestones in the last two decades

Over the past two decades, India has witnessed the passage of numerous transformative laws under the tenures of Prime Ministers Manmohan Singh (2004–2014) and Narendra Modi (2014–present). These legislative milestones, shaped by distinct political visions, have sparked widespread debate, reflecting the evolving priorities of governance—be it welfare, economic reform, or identity politics. From empowering citizens with rights to reshaping constitutional frameworks, the 14 most talked-about laws of this period highlight both progressive strides and contentious shifts, offering a lens into India’s socio-political journey.

 

Here are the 7 laws pased in Manmohan era:

 

1. The Right to Information Act (RTI), 2005 is a law that empowered citizens to access information from public authorities, promoting transparency and accountability in governance. It gave people a tool to hold the government accountable for delivering services and benefits, reducing corruption in welfare schemes. It mandated timely responses (within 30 days) to information requests, with provisions for penalties on officials who failed to comply.

2. The Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA), 2005 is a law that guaranteed 100 days of wage employment per year to rural households willing to do unskilled manual work. It aimed to combat rural poverty and unemployment while fostering infrastructure development (e.g., roads, water conservation projects). By 2014, it had provided employment to millions, with a focus on inclusivity. Over 50% of workers were women and marginalized groups.

3. The Right of Children to Free and Compulsory Education Act (RTE), 2009: This law made education a fundamental right for children aged 6 to 14 under Article 21A of the Constitution. It mandated free education in government schools and reserved 25% of seats in private schools for economically disadvantaged children. This measure was aimed to reduce dropout rates and improve literacy, particularly among underprivileged communities.

4. The National Food Security Act (NFSA), 2013: This Act aimed to provide subsidized food grains to approximately two-thirds of India’s population (around 800 million people). It entitled eligible households to 5 kg of rice, wheat, or coarse grains per person per month at low prices (e.g., ₹3/kg for rice). It also included provisions for free meals for pregnant women, lactating mothers, and children up to 14 years through programs like the Mid-Day Meal Scheme, addressing hunger and malnutrition as core welfare goals.

5. The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005, provided legal recourse for women facing domestic violence, including physical, emotional, or economic abuse. It offered welfare support through protection orders, residence rights, and monetary relief, aiming to safeguard women’s well-being and security within households.

6. The Right to Fair Compensation and Transparency in Land Acquisition, Rehabilitation and Resettlement Act, 2013: This Act replaced the colonial Land Acquisition Act of 1894. It mandated fair compensation, rehabilitation, and resettlement for those displaced by land acquisition for development projects. It sought to protect livelihoods of rural and tribal populations, requiring consent from 80% of affected families for private projects.

7. The Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, 2006, often called the Forest Rights Act (FRA), granted land and resource rights to forest-dwelling communities. It aimed to correct historical injustices by providing welfare through secure tenure, access to forest produce, and community rights, benefiting millions of tribal and forest-dependent people.

Thereafter Narendra Modi became the Prime Minister. So far his premiership spans a period more or less around the same period as Manmohan Singh. Below is a list of 7 most talked about laws passed during his period:

1. The Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), 2019: It amends the Citizenship Act of 1955 to grant citizenship to non-Muslim migrants (Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists, Jains, Parsis, and Christians) from Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan who entered India before December 31, 2014, fleeing religious persecution. Critics argue it violates India’s secular ethos by excluding Muslims, pairing it with the proposed National Register of Citizens (NRC) to potentially disenfranchise Muslim citizens lacking documentation. Protests erupted nationwide, with over 100 deaths reported during clashes in 2019–2020, notably in Delhi and Uttar Pradesh.

2. The Farm Laws (2020, Repealed 2021): Three agricultural laws passed in September 2020—The Farmers’ Produce Trade and Commerce (Promotion and Facilitation) Act, The Farmers (Empowerment and Protection) Agreement on Price Assurance and Farm Services Act, and The Essential Commodities (Amendment) Act—aimed to liberalize farming by allowing sales outside regulated mandis, enabling contract farming, and easing stock limits. Farmers, especially from Punjab and Haryana, protested for over a year, fearing corporate exploitation and the erosion of Minimum Support Prices (MSP). The laws were repealed on November 29, 2021, after massive demonstrations blockaded Delhi, with Modi citing failure to convince farmers.

3. Abrogation of Article 370 and Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act, 2019: On 5 August 2019 the government revoked Article 370, stripping Jammu and Kashmir of its special autonomy, and passed the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act, bifurcating the state into two Union Territories: Jammu and Kashmir (with a legislature) and Ladakh (without). This ended decades of constitutional privileges, like separate laws and land rights. Critics decried the move as unilateral, imposed during a communication blackout and mass detentions, undermining federalism and Kashmiri identity.

4. The Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Marriage) Act, 2019: This law criminalizes instant triple talaq (talaq-e-biddat), making it punishable with up to three years in jail. Championed as a women’s rights reform following a 2017 Supreme Court ruling, it faced backlash from democratic groups and opposition parties who called it an intrusion into personal laws and a step toward a Uniform Civil Code (UCC), potentially targeting Muslims.

5. Three New Criminal Laws (2023): the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), and Bharatiya Sakshya Adhiniyam replace the colonial Indian Penal Code, Code of Criminal Procedure, and Indian Evidence Act. Aimed at modernizing justice—e.g., adding community service as punishment and tackling cybercrime—they’ve been criticized for expanding police powers (e.g., up to 90-day custody without charges) and vague sedition-like provisions (e.g., BNS Section 152 on “acts endangering sovereignty”).

6. Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019: This law seeks to protect transgender rights by prohibiting discrimination and mandating welfare measures. However, it’s controversial for requiring a certificate for gender recognition, lacking reservations in jobs or education, and imposing lighter penalties for crimes against transgender individuals compared to others. Activists argue it undermines self-identification rights upheld by a 2014 Supreme Court ruling, while the government frames it as a progressive step.

7. The Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2024: Already passedby both houses of parliamentbut still awaitingassent of the president, this bill proposes to regulate Waqf properties by mandating registration, allowing non-Muslim board members, and empowering district collectors to resolve disputes. Critics, including opposition MPs, call it an attack on Muslim religious autonomy and constitutional rights, accusing it of communal intent.

In sum, the laws enacted during Singh’s tenure leaned heavily toward social welfare and inclusivity, laying foundational rights to information, education, employment, and food security, often remembered as a period of steady, if imperfect, progress. In contrast, Modi’s era has been marked by bold, polarizing reforms—restructuring agriculture, citizenship, and regional autonomy—heralded by supporters as “achche din” (good days) and “amrit kaal” (golden era), yet leaving many nostalgic for the “bad old days” of Singh’s regime. These legislative legacies, for better or worse, speak volumes about the aspirations and fault lines of contemporary India.

How India's Secularism Became a Tool of Religious Exclusion

 The recent incident at Assam University, where authorities denied permission for an Iftar gathering while routinely approving Hindu festivals such as Saraswati Puja and Holi, underscores a systemic contradiction plaguing India’s secular framework. This pattern of unequal treatment, masked by institutional claims of religious neutrality, is not an isolated lapse but a reflection of a deeper ideological bias that conflates Hindu traditions with “Indian culture” while marginalizing minority practices as sectarian. The university’s defense that it cannot endorse “religious” events rings hollow when juxtaposed against its active facilitation of Hindu rituals rebranded as “cultural” or “educational” activities. This duality, replicated across educational institutions, government bodies, and public spaces, reveals how secularism has been weaponized to normalize majoritarian preferences while eroding the constitutional guarantee of equal respect for all faiths.  

To grasp the full dimensions of this crisis, one must examine India’s historical relationship with secularism. Unlike western models that advocate strict church-state separation, Indian secularism emerged as a pluralistic compromise, aiming to protect minority rights in a Hindu-majority society post-Partition. However, over decades, this delicate balance has been distorted by political forces seeking to redefine national identity through a Hindu cultural lens. Festivals like Holi and Saraswati Puja, while undeniably religious in origin, have been systematically recast as “shared heritage,” enabling institutions to celebrate them without appearing partisan. Meanwhile, Muslim, Christian, or Sikh observances, despite their equally deep roots in India’s history, remain categorized as exclusionary “religious” acts. This semantic sleight-of-hand, as seen in Assam University’s justification, allows systemic discrimination to flourish under the guise of neutrality. 

The ramifications extend far beyond festival permissions. In Karnataka, the hijab ban in educational institutions framed as enforcing “uniformity” exposes how secularism is twisted to police minority identity. Similarly, the restriction of Muslim Friday prayers in public spaces—a practice tolerated for decades—is now deemed “non-secular,” even as Hindu temple rituals on government premises face no such scrutiny. These decisions, often justified through circular logic (“Hindu practices are cultural, thus secular”), institutionalize a hierarchy of citizenship. The message is unambiguous: majority traditions represent the nation’s ethos, while minority expressions threaten social cohesion.  

Such selective secularism violates Article 14’s equality clause and Article 15’s prohibition of religious discrimination. The Supreme Court’s 1994 S.R. Bommai judgment [(1994) 3 SCC 1] explicitly warned against using secularism to suppress minority rights, stating that religion cannot be mixed with political activities. Yet institutions routinely disregard this principle. For instance, Saraswati Puja in schools, a worship ritual for a Hindu deity, is defended as “fostering knowledge,” while Christmas carols or Quran recitations are barred as “proselytization.” This inconsistency betrays not administrative pragmatism but a tacit endorsement of Hindutva’s cultural nationalism, which equates Indianness with Hindu symbolism.  

The psychological toll on minorities is profound. When a Muslim student sees her Eid celebration restricted as “divisive” while Diwali fireworks illuminate government offices, it reinforces her status as a second-class citizen. A large number of minority students in BJP-ruled states feel pressured to hide religious identity markers. This alienation fuels communal distrust and erodes the pluralist social fabric enshrined in the Constitution’s preamble. 

Security concerns, often cited to restrict minority events, further expose institutional bias. While Kumbh Melas attracting millions are managed as logistical challenges, small Iftar gatherings are deemed “law-and-order risks.” Authorities in Uttar Pradesh, for example, permitted the 2021 Kanwar Yatra amid pandemic surges but banned Muharram processions citing COVID protocols. Such disproportionate scrutiny stems not from evidence but stereotypes casting Muslim gatherings as inherently volatile which is a prejudice reinforced by media narratives and political rhetoric.  

Addressing this crisis requires redefining secularism through an equity lens. Institutions must adopt transparent, uniform criteria for event approvals, distinguishing between worship and cultural celebration without favoring any faith. If Saraswati Puja is permitted as an academic tradition, then Eid or Guru Nanak Jayanti observances emphasizing charity or community service should receive equal accommodation. Legislative measures may be considered for preventing discrimination and atrocities against minorities penalizing religious bias in public spaces. Courts must revisit narrow interpretations of secularism, as in the hijab case, and reaffirm the right to religious expression under Articles 25-28.  

Ultimately, India’s secular ideal cannot survive as a veneer for majoritarianism. It demands acknowledging that Hindu festivals, while culturally significant, are not politically neutral in a multifaith society. True secularism isn’t achieved by erasing religion from public life but by ensuring no community feels targeted or excluded. As Dr. B.R. Ambedkar warned, constitutional morality must prevail over populist majoritarianism. Only when a Dalit student’s Buddha Jayanti, a tribal scholar’s Sarhul festival, and a Muslim professor’s Iftar are treated with the same respect as Holi can India claim to honor its founding pledge of “fraternity assuring the dignity of the individual.” Until then, the selective celebration of festivals will remain not merely administrative hypocrisy but a betrayal of the republic’s soul.

The Waqf (Amendment) Bill: A Legal and Constitutional Critique

The proposed Waqf (Amendment) Bill, ostensibly framed to "reform" the governance of Waqf properties under the Waqf Act, 1995, constitutes a constitutionally suspect legislative maneuver that disproportionately targets India’s Muslim minority. Its provisions violate the principles of secularism, equality, and religious autonomy enshrined in Articles 14, 15, 25, and 26 of the Indian Constitution, while perpetuating systemic discrimination against minorities in contravention of international human rights obligations.  

The bill’s proposal to induct non-Muslim members into Waqf Boards flagrantly infringes upon the absolute right of religious denominations under Article 26 to manage their own religious affairs. Waqf, as a quintessentially Islamic institution rooted in Sharia principles, is governed by specific theological mandates that require trusteeship (mutawalli) and oversight to align with Islamic jurisprudence. The imposition of non-Muslim members, who lack doctrinal competence, into governance structures constitutes state interference in religious practice, undermining the constitutional guarantee of autonomy under Article 26(b). This contrasts starkly with the state’s hands-off approach to Hindu religious endowments (governed by state-specific Acts) or Christian charitable trusts, which retain exclusive denominational control. Such discriminatory singling out of Muslim institutions violates the equality clause (Article 14) and perpetuates an asymmetrical application of secularism, reducing it to majoritarian appeasement.  

Further, the bill’s transfer of authority to declare properties as Waqf from Waqf Boards to government-appointed officials (e.g., District Commissioners) represents an unconstitutional usurpation of quasi-judicial functions by the executive. Under the 1995 Act, Waqf Tribunals, specialized bodies with expertise in Islamic law, adjudicate disputes to ensure doctrinal fidelity. By shifting this power to bureaucrats, the bill violates principles of natural justice, as state officials lack the theological and legal expertise required to interpret Waqf deeds (waqfiyya). This undermines the rule of law by replacing specialized tribunals with a politicized executive, risking arbitrary or biased decisions contrary to Article 14’s guarantee of equality before law. It also infringes on due process under Article 21, as disputes over religious endowments demand adjudication by bodies versed in the relevant religious law— a safeguard denied to Muslims alone. This move mirrors broader efforts to dilute minority institutions through bureaucratic overreach, setting a dangerous precedent for state control over all religious trusts.  

The bill’s enhanced scrutiny of Waqf properties— absent parallel measures for Hindu, Sikh, or Christian trusts— violates the essential secular character of India’s constitutional framework. The state’s selective intervention in Muslim endowments, under the guise of “transparency” or “modernization,” constitutes invidious discrimination under Article 15(1), which prohibits discrimination on grounds of religion. This discrimination is exacerbated by the broader socio-political context, including the Citizenship (Amendment) Act, 2019 (CAA), which excludes Muslims from its purview; proposals for a Uniform Civil Code (UCC) targeting Muslim personal law; and demolitions of Muslim-owned properties under municipal pretexts. Such systemic marginalization reveals a pattern of legislative othering, reducing secularism to a majoritarian tool and violating Article 25’s guarantee of freedom of conscience and free profession of religion.  

The bill’s delegation of Waqf governance to non-expert bureaucrats exceeds the permissible limits of delegated legislation under constitutional jurisprudence. In Arizona State Legislature v. Arizona Independent Redistricting Commission (2015), the U.S. Supreme Court emphasized that core functions of specialized bodies cannot be transferred to the executive without violating separation of powers. Similarly, in India, the Supreme Court in C. Ravichandran Iyer v. Justice A.M. Bhattacharjee (1995) held that the judiciary’s independence is sacrosanct. By dismantling Waqf Tribunals, the bill subverts institutional autonomy, rendering it ultra vires the doctrine of separation of powers.  

India’s obligations under Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and Article 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which protect minorities’ rights to religious and cultural autonomy, are further breached by the bill. The UN Special Rapporteur on Minority Issues has repeatedly cautioned against laws that “disproportionately affect religious minorities under the guise of governance reforms”—a descriptor fitting the Waqf Bill.  

With over 600,000 registered Waqf properties valued at ₹1.2 lakh crore, the Muslim community relies on these assets for educational, healthcare, and housing support. By transferring control to state actors, the bill risks alienation of Waqf lands through mismanagement or outright expropriation, deepening socio-economic disparities. This violates Article 39(b) of the Directive Principles, which mandates equitable distribution of community resources.  

The Waqf (Amendment) Bill is not merely a regulatory overhaul but a calculated erosion of minority rights that weaponizes state machinery to dilute Islamic institutions. Its provisions contravene constitutional guarantees of equality, secularism, and religious freedom, while aligning with a broader agenda of marginalizing Muslims. If enacted, it would institutionalize discrimination, erode trust in governance, and further fracture India’s pluralist ethos. Judicial intervention is imperative to scrutinize the bill’s constitutionality, safeguard minority rights, and uphold the Basic Structure doctrine against majoritarian encroachment. The state must withdraw this pernicious legislation and reaffirm its commitment to equality—not merely in rhetoric, but in constitutional practice.

Arbitrary Arrests of Mahbubul Hoque Expose Politically Motivated Legal Persecution

The repeated arrests of Mahbubul Hoque, Chancellor of the University of Science and Technology Meghalaya (USTM), in early 2025 reflect a glaring pattern of procedural abuse, jurisdictional overreach, and politically motivated harassment, rather than a legitimate legal process. While the allegations against Hoque— primarily centered on unproven claims of exam fraud at a CBSE-affiliated school in Assam— remain conspicuously unsupported by publicly disclosed evidence, the actions of Assam authorities violate fundamental legal principles, including due process, presumption of innocence, and protection against double jeopardy.  

1. Procedural Irregularities and Abuse of Process:

Hoque’s arrests follow a troubling pattern of legal arbitrariness. After his initial arrest on February 21, 2025, the Gauhati High Court granted him bail on March 3 in one case, only for Assam Police to keep him detained under a second FIR from Sribhumi. When the High Court granted bail in the second case on March 12 and explicitly barred his arrest in three additional FIRs, Sonitpur Police circumvented the court’s order by filing a new case on March 14, ensuring his continued custody. This cycle of “arrest-on-bail” demonstrates a deliberate strategy to weaponize the legal system. Legal experts argue that such serial FIRs, filed across disparate districts (Gossaigaon, Kokrajhar, Barpeta, Sonitpur), constitute a blatant misuse of power to harass rather than investigate.  

2. Politically Charged Rhetoric Undermines Rule of Law:

Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma’s inflammatory rhetoric—including baseless accusations of “flood jihad” and calling Hoque a “big fraud”— has irreparably prejudiced the legal process. Sarma’s unsubstantiated claim that USTM’s construction caused flash floods in Guwahati is not only scientifically absurd but also emblematic of a broader campaign to vilify Hoque and delegitimize USTM, a Meghalaya-based institution. His threats to bar USTM graduates from Assam government jobs further expose a retaliatory agenda, conflating governance with vendetta. Such statements, made by a sitting CM, violate the rules of propriety and principles of judicial independence, effectively turning state machinery into a tool of political persecution.  

3. Lack of Evidence & Jurisdictional Overreach:

Authorities have failed to produce credible evidence linking Hoque directly to exam malpractices. The allegations hinge on vague claims of “financial corruption” and student coercion, yet no forensic audit, paper leaks, or student testimonies have been disclosed. Meanwhile, the jurisdictional validity of Assam’s actions is questionable: the Central Public School in Patharkandi is part of Hoque’s ERDF network, which operates across multiple states. By contrast, Meghalaya CM Conrad Sangma has reaffirmed USTM’s legitimacy, noting its NAAC accreditation and recognition by the UGC, underscoring Assam’s overreach into educational matters beyond its purview.  

4. Systemic Violation of Constitutional Safeguards:

The rapid filing of FIRs across districts mirrors tactics of “forum shopping” to deny Hoque access to a fair trial, infringing on Articles 14 (equality before law) and 21 (right to liberty) of the Indian Constitution. Legal scholars emphasize that bail should be the norm, not the exception, in cases lacking concrete evidence. Hoque’s prolonged detention without trial—coupled with the Assam government’s refusal to comply with High Court restraints—signals a collapse of constitutional governance.  

5. Interstate Political Tensions:

The stark contrast between Assam’s punitive actions and Meghalaya’s defense of USTM highlights the arrest campaign’s politicized nature. Sarma’s targeting of Hoque aligns with longstanding tensions between Assam and Meghalaya over territorial and administrative autonomy, reducing law enforcement to a tool of regional rivalry.  

Conclusion: A Dangerous Precedent:

The persecution of Mahbubul Hoque represents a flagrant assault on judicial integrity and educational autonomy. Rather than upholding justice, Assam’s actions reflect a politically orchestrated effort to silence a prominent minority educator and undermine a neighboring state’s institution. Civil society, legal bodies, and national authorities must condemn this abuse of power, demand immediate transparency in investigations, and reaffirm the constitutional rights shielding citizens from state-sponsored harassment. Until credible evidence is presented, Hoque’s detention must be recognized for what it is: arbitrary, illegal, and a threat to democracy itself

Breathe right

 just breathe right

and survive the night.

the sun setting down,

over the mountain crown,

means it will be light,

just after the night.

the darkness does never,

it doesn't last forever.

it is the morning

that comes after the mourning.

the darkness and the coldness

will be replaced by light and freshness.

just breathe right

and survive the night.

there it is life in the morrow

an end to all misery and sorrow

death and decay will be away

and democracy will rule the day.