Opinion UGC equity regulations and upper caste protests: Why the spectre of ‘fake cases’ is misleading
Do we want campuses that merely reproduce existing hierarchies under the guise of merit? Protecting SC, ST, and OBC rights in higher education is not about targeting any group; it is about ensuring that no one is denied dignity and opportunity because of caste
The question before us, then, is not merely legal or procedural. It is fundamentally moral and political Written by Gowd Kiran Kumar
The recent decision by the Supreme Court to stall the University Grants Commission (Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions) Regulations, 2026, has once again brought to the fore a deeply uncomfortable debate on caste, discrimination, and constitutional justice in Indian higher education. By continuing the 2012 regulatory framework, one that effectively excluded Other Backward Classes (OBCs) from the ambit of institutional anti-discrimination safeguards, the Court has, at least temporarily, frozen a reform that sought to address a fundamental structural blind spot. To understand the current controversy, it is essential to recall how we arrived at this point.
When the UGC released the draft Promotion of Equity Regulations for public consultation in February 2025, several organisations, including student associations representing marginalised communities, strongly opposed the draft, not because it was too radical, but because it was insufficient. The most serious objection was the exclusion of OBCs from the definition of vulnerable groups covered under the proposed anti-discrimination framework.
Responding to these criticisms, the final 2026 Regulations explicitly included OBCs within the scope of protection. This was an overdue acknowledgement of a basic truth: Caste discrimination in Indian campuses does not stop at the SC/ST binary. OBC students and faculty, particularly those from artisan, pastoral, and service communities, routinely face exclusion, stereotyping, and institutional neglect. Ironically, it is precisely this corrective inclusion, this modest step towards a more comprehensive understanding of social justice, that appears to have triggered resistance from powerful quarters.
Representation, Vacancies, and the Myth of Merit
The broader empirical context makes this resistance even more troubling. More than seven decades after Independence, representation of SCs, STs, and OBCs in faculty positions remains abysmally low. In central universities alone, nearly 80 per cent of sanctioned professor posts reserved for OBCs and over 83 per cent for STs are lying vacant. These are not marginal shortfalls but massive structural gaps. In eight Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) and seven Indian Institutes of Management (IIMs), over 80 per cent of professors belong to the General Category. Such figures cannot be explained away as statistical coincidences or transitional anomalies. They point unmistakably to entrenched systems of exclusion.
Opponents of the 2026 Regulations frequently invoke the language of “merit” to justify the status quo. They argue that vacancies exist because there is a scarcity of “qualified” candidates from reserved categories. However, this claim collapses under scrutiny when one examines the persistent and expanding use of the “None Found Suitable” (NFS) clause in faculty recruitment. The repeated declaration that no suitable SC, ST, or OBC candidate could be found, year after year, across disciplines and institutions, stretches credibility.
Beyond representation, the human cost of institutional discrimination is even more alarming. Data submitted by the UGC to a parliamentary panel and the Supreme Court in 2025 reveals that complaints of caste-based discrimination in universities and colleges increased by 118.4 per cent over five years, from 173 in 2019-20 to 378 in 2023-24. While authorities point to a reported resolution rate of around 90 per cent, this statistic masks deeper and more disturbing realities. Many students and scholars do not report discrimination at all, fearing academic reprisals, social isolation, or damage to their careers. Most tragically, there has been a disturbing rise in student suicides linked to caste-based humiliation, exclusion, and harassment.
Fear of ‘Misuse’ vs the Reality of Caste Violence on Campuses
It is against this backdrop that critics of the 2026 Regulations have advanced a familiar counter-argument: That anti-discrimination frameworks will be misused, that “upper-caste” students and faculty will be targeted through false complaints by “so-called reserved students”. This narrative is not only exaggerated; it is deeply misleading. The Regulations do not provide for automatic punishment upon the filing of a complaint. They mandate the constitution of Equity Committees, adherence to principles of natural justice, and fact-based inquiries. No individual can be penalised without due process. The spectre of rampant “fake cases” is largely imaginary, yet it is repeatedly invoked to delegitimise even the most basic safeguards for marginalised groups.
The question before us, then, is not merely legal or procedural. It is fundamentally moral and political. Do we want campuses that merely reproduce existing hierarchies under the guise of merit? Or do we want institutions that actively work to dismantle historical injustices and create genuinely inclusive spaces of learning? Protecting SC, ST, and OBC rights in higher education is not about targeting any group; it is about ensuring that no one is denied dignity, opportunity, or life itself because of caste. Stalling equity only sustains discrimination, and India, as a constitutional democracy, can no longer afford that moral failure.
The writer is national president, All India OBC Students Association (AIOBCSA) and a PhD Research Scholar, Department of Political Science, University of Hyderabad
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