UNIFORM CIVIL CODE: CONSTITUTIONAL MANDATE OR POLITICAL AGENDA?

ABSTRACT

The idea of a Uniform Civil Code (UCC) has been a part of India’s Constitution since the beginning. It is mentioned in Article 44, which encourages the government to create one common set of civil laws for all citizens no matter what religion they follow. These laws would cover important matters like marriage, divorce, inheritance, and adoption. But even after more than 75 years of independence, the UCC has not been fully brought into action. Why? Because while some see it as a step toward equality, others believe it’s being used for political purposes. This article looks at both sides of the debate: Is the UCC really a constitutional goal, or has it become a political tool? By discussing real court cases like Shah Bano and Shayara Bano, highlighting the struggles of women, and looking at the concerns of tribal and minority communities, this piece tries to understand the true impact of UCC. It also compares India’s situation with other countries and shows how different laws can still support unity. In the end, the article suggests ways to bring in the UCC through dialogue, public participation, and fairness, so it becomes a law for justice not just for show.

INTRODUCTION

“Is it fair that your rights can change based on the religion you’re born into?” This question hit the national conscience when Shayara Bano, a Muslim woman, was suddenly divorced by her husband through instant triple talaq. She didn’t just lose her marriage she lost her security, respect, and voice. Her brave legal fight reached the Supreme Court and ended with a historic judgment. But beyond her personal victory, her case reopened an old debate: Does India need one common law for all citizens?That idea is called the Uniform Civil Code (UCC). It’s mentioned in Article 44 of the Indian Constitution, which says the State should try to bring in common civil laws for everyone regardless of their religion. These laws would deal with things like marriage, divorce, inheritance, and adoption, which are now governed by different personal laws for different communities. On paper, the UCC sounds like a promise of equality. But in reality, it’s one of the most debated and politically sensitive topics in the country. Supporters say it will bring gender justice and national unity. Critics fear it could harm religious freedom and minority rights. Some see it as a bold legal reform; others believe it’s being used as a political agenda. The truth lies somewhere in between.

This article tries to explore the real meaning and impact of the Uniform Civil Code. It will look at how the Constitution imagined it, how politics shaped it, and how people especially women and minorities are affected by it. Through real life stories, important court cases, and examples from other countries, this article asks a key question “Is the UCC still a constitutional dreamor has it become a political tool?”.[1]

THE CONSTITUTIONAL VISION: A PROMISE THAT WAITS IN SILENCE

When India was born as a republic, it wasn’t just a political moment it was a moral one. The framers of our Constitution weren’t simply writing laws; they were dreaming of a just nation, where all citizens would stand equal not just in theory, but in everyday life. One of those bold dreams was the Uniform Civil Code (UCC). Tucked into Article 44 of the Directive Principles of State Policy, the UCC quietly sits there even today. It says “The State shall endeavour to secure for the citizens a Uniform Civil Code throughout the territory of India.” But what does that really mean? It means that one day, every Indian no matter their religion would follow the same civil laws when it comes to marriage, divorce, inheritance, and adoption. Not different rules for different communities. Not separate systems of justice based on faith. One law, one nation, one sense of equality. That was the vision. But why did it remain just that a vision?

Back in the Constituent Assembly, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar, the father of our Constitution, argued fiercely for the UCC. He believed it would be a powerful tool for gender equality, especially for women trapped in unjust personal laws. He wanted India to rise above religious divisions in private law and move toward true secularism. But others in the Assembly hesitated. India had just come out of Partition. Emotions were raw. The country was deeply religious and culturally diverse. Many leaders feared that pushing for a common civil code too early might disturb communal harmony. So, they reached a compromise: make it a Directive Principle, not a Fundamental Right. And that’s where it stayed on paper, not in practice. Years passed. Governments came and went. Laws evolved for some communities but not all. The Hindu Code Bills reformed Hindu personal laws. Muslim personal laws largely remained untouched by Parliament. Tribal and customary laws were left out altogether. So here we are, more than seven decades later, still asking:

• Why hasn’t the UCC been implemented?
• Was it always just a “symbolic ideal”?
• Or worse has it become a political pawn?

As the Constitution silently waits, the question grows louder , If not now, then when? If not for justice, then for what?[6]

GENDER JUSTICE AND THE PERSONAL LAW TRAP: WHEN EQUALITY DEPENDS ON FAITH

Imagine two women in India born in the same land, living under the same Constitution but treated differently by law just because they belong to different religions. One can claim maintenance after divorce; the other is denied. One inherits equal property rights; the other is bound by outdated customs.This isn’t fiction. It’s reality. And it’s the deepest cut in India’s civil law system. Personal laws in India are still heavily influenced by religion. Hindus, Muslims, Christians, Parsis, and others each follow their own religious rules when it comes to personal matters. While this diversity is often celebrated, it has a darker side it creates unequal access to justice, especially for women.Let’s take a closer look.[2]

• The Shah Bano Case: A Turning Point or a Turned Back?

In 1985, Shah Bano, a 62-year-old Muslim woman, was divorced by her husband who refused to provide maintenance. She went to court, and the Supreme Court ruled in her favor under Section 125 of the Criminal Procedure Code saying that even Muslim women have the right to maintenance after divorce.But what happened next shocked the nation.

The ruling was overturned by Parliament, under pressure from conservative religious groups. A new law the Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Divorce) Act, 1986 was passed to limit her right. One woman’s victory became a national setback. And the message was loud: politics had silenced justice.[3]

• Sarla Mudgal: One Man, Two Marriages No Consequence?

Then came the Sarla Mudgal case. A Hindu man converted to Islam just to marry a second wife without divorcing the first. When the women approached the court, the Supreme Court called out this misuse of religion and once again reminded the country: we need a Uniform Civil Code to prevent such loopholes.[4]

Shayara Bano: A Woman Who Refused to Stay Silent In 2016, Shayara Bano, a woman from Uttarakhand, was suddenly divorced by her husband through a text message using triple talaq. Her case shook the conscience of the country. In 2017, the Supreme Court declared instant triple talaq unconstitutional. It was seen as a major win. But still, it wasn’t a full reform. Because only one community’s injustice was addressed, and even that came after decades of waiting.

These aren’t just court cases. They’re stories of betrayal by the system where a woman’s right to dignity is often decided by her religion, not by her humanity. This raises a haunting truth In a country that promises equality to all, personal laws create unequal lives. And this is where the Uniform Civil Code could be more than just a law. It could be a lifeline especially for women caught in the web of religious customs, community pressure, and legal silence. But is India ready to take that step? Or will justice continue to depend on faith?[5]

POLITICAL LANDSCAPES: BETWEEN REFORM AND RHETORIC

If the Uniform Civil Code truly promises fairness for all, why has it remained only a promise for more than seven decades? The answer lies not just in legal complications but in political hesitation. Over the years, the UCC has shifted from a constitutional dream to a political buzzword appearing in debates, vanishing in decisions, and reappearing around elections. It has become a topic more used than understood, more argued than acted upon.

Loud in Speeches, Silent in Action

Despite being part of the Directive Principles, no government past or present has dared to fully implement a nationwide UCC. Why? Because civil laws touch religion, and religion touches votes. The fear of upsetting communities, sparking controversy, or facing electoral backlash has often kept the UCC locked in cold storage. Sometimes, you’ll hear loud voices calling for its immediate implementation. Other times, total silence. And when discussions arise, they’re often timed too neatly around political events to feel purely constitutional.[9]

Is Reform Being Replaced by Rhetoric?

In recent years, a few state governments have introduced or spoken of civil code like proposals within their territories. These attempts are often packaged as bold steps toward equality. But many people especially from minority and tribal communities view these moves with caution. They ask: Was the consultation process inclusive? Do these reforms protect cultural identity? Or is this just a top-down attempt to standardize lives without understanding them? These questions matter, because if people start fearing reform instead of welcoming it, then somewhere, the spirit of the Constitution is being lost.

Between Promise and Politics

The truth is, the UCC could have united the country if only it had been approached with patience, empathy, and honesty. But instead, it has too often been treated as a political checkbox ticked when useful, avoided when risky. So now, whenever someone brings up the UCC, the nation doesn’t just ask “How will this improve equality?” It asks, “Whose voice is missing from this conversation?” And until that question is answered, even the best intentions will feel incomplete.[8]

THE TRIBAL AND CUSTOMARY LAW ANGLE: THE UNSEEN CASUALTY

When the Uniform Civil Code is discussed in public forums, the focus is often limited to religious personal laws. But what gets left out almost entirely is how such a reform might impact India’s tribal and indigenous communities. These communities, especially those in the Northeast and central India, have their own systems of customary laws that govern everything from marriage and property to inheritance and dispute resolution. These aren’t just traditions they are living legal systems that have served their people for centuries. In states like Nagaland, Mizoram, and Meghalaya, these customary practices are not just cultural they’re constitutionally protected. Article 371A and the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution give these regions the power to preserve and practice their own laws and systems of governance. For many tribal groups, these customs represent not just law, but identity. They define who they are, how their families are structured, and how justice is delivered within their communities.[11]

The introduction of a Uniform Civil Code especially one that doesn’t recognize or accommodate these customs raises deep concerns. There is a real fear among tribal populations that their practices may be wiped out or overridden by a uniform law drafted with little to no understanding of their way of life. What appears to be reform to some may feel like cultural erasure to others.Many tribal communities operate on principles that are, in some ways, far more progressive than mainstream systems. For instance, some follow matrilineal inheritance, granting women strong property rights. Others resolve disputes through community dialogue rather than formal litigation. These are systems rooted in cooperation, not confrontation and to lose them would be to lose a valuable part of India’s legal diversity.  [10]

The larger question is whether a single legal framework can truly deliver justice in a country as diverse as India. A “one-size-fits-all” approach may sound efficient, but it risks flattening the rich legal pluralism that has long existed in this country. The aim should not be to replace every personal or customary law, but to ensure that the principles of justice, equality, and dignity are available to all without forcing anyone to give up their identity in the process.

BREAKING THE MYTH: UNIFORMITY DOES NOT MEAN EQUALITY

One of the biggest misunderstandings about the Uniform Civil Code is the belief that uniformity automatically creates equality. At first glance, the idea sounds simple and powerful one law for all, applied to everyone in the same way. But in a country like India, where identity is deeply tied to community, religion, region, and tradition, the picture is far more complex.[12]

Equality does not mean making everyone the same. True equality lies in recognising differences while ensuring fairness for all. A uniform code that fails to understand or include the lived realities of India’s diverse population might look equal on paper but feel unjust in practice. When law ignores context, it risks becoming a tool of alienation rather than empowerment. We often forget that legal uniformity already exists in many areas. The Indian Penal Code, for instance, applies equally to all citizens regardless of religion. But personal laws are different. They govern intimate aspects of people’s liveswho they marry, how they divorce, what they inherit and these matters are deeply connected to culture and belief. A flat, culture-neutral code that doesn’t account for India’s diversity could result in a loss of both identity and trust. However, the idea of a just and inclusive civil code isn’t impossible. There are existing examples within India that prove this. The state of Goa, for instance, has a civil code that applies to all communities, yet includes certain flexible provisions that allow for cultural variation. It shows that a balanced approach where justice and tradition meet is achievable. Similarly, countries like France and Turkey have implemented uniform civil laws, but they operate in more culturally homogenous societies, unlike India’s multi layered social fabric.[13]

The real challenge, therefore, is not whether we can draft one law. The challenge is whether we can draft a law that respects diversity, protects vulnerable groups, and does not force uniformity in the name of reform. A code that is sensitive, inclusive, and built through democratic consensus might serve the Constitution better than one that simply aims to standardize.

Uniformity should never mean losing one’s voice. The aim of the UCC should not be to erase differences but to ensure that no difference becomes a reason for injustice.

JUDICIARY’S ROLE: BETWEEN LAW AND JUSTICE

While governments have often chosen to stay quiet on the Uniform Civil Code, the judiciary has not. In fact, over the years, it is the Indian courts particularly the Supreme Court that have kept the conversation on UCC alive, reminding the nation time and again of the promise made in Article 44. But the court’s role hasn’t just been about reminders it has been about defending justice when the law was silent, delayed, or politically avoided. One of the earliest and most powerful interventions came in the Shah Bano case (1985). When Shah Bano, a divorced Muslim woman, claimed maintenance under Section 125 of the Criminal Procedure Code, the Supreme Court ruled in her favour, stating that personal laws could not override a woman’s right to maintenance. In that judgment, the Court directly urged the government to implement the Uniform Civil Code, calling it a necessary step for national integration. But the political backlash that followed showed just how sensitive the subject was and the government at the time responded by passing a law that diluted the Court’s ruling. Years later, in the Sarla Mudgal case (1995), the Supreme Court faced the issue of men converting to Islam to marry again without divorcing their first wives exploiting the differences between personal laws. The Court condemned this misuse of religious freedom and once again called for a UCC to prevent such legal manipulation.

The judiciary also took a bold step in the Shayara Bano case (2017), where the practice of instant triple talaq was declared unconstitutional. This judgment, while specific to Muslim personal law, was another strong message: gender justice cannot be delayed in the name of tradition. Although the verdict did not implement a UCC, it echoed the core idea behind it one law must protect all equally, especially those most vulnerable. These cases show a pattern. The courts have consistently highlighted the gaps in personal laws especially where women’s rights are compromised and have used the Constitution to fill those gaps. In doing so, they haven’t imposed uniformity but have reinforced the principles of equality and dignity. But even the judiciary has its limits. It can interpret the law, but it cannot create new legislation. That power lies with the legislature. So while the courts have raised their voice for reform, it is up to the political system to turn those words into action. The judiciary’s message has been clear  justice delayed by politics must still be delivered by the Constitution. It’s a reminder that laws are not just words in a book they are promises to real people, facing real struggles.

THE WAY FORWARD: A CALL FOR BALANCE, NOT IMPOSITION

The Uniform Civil Code is not just a legal reform it’s an emotional issue, wrapped in identity, history, fear, and hope. For some, it represents long-awaited justice; for others, a threat to cultural autonomy. But if there’s one thing this complex journey has shown, it’s that we cannot afford to treat the UCC as a one-sided issue. Not anymore. India does need a civil code that ensures dignity and equality for all. But that code must be built on inclusion, dialogue, and understanding not force, fear, or vote-bank politics. Reform should come from the ground up, not as a top-down order. It must reflect not just legal logic but human reality how people live, love, inherit, and resolve conflict in a country as diverse as ours.So what can be done?

 First, the government must initiate honest public consultation. Every community especially women, tribal voices, and religious minorities should be part of the discussion. Reform should not feel like something “done to” them, but something “built with” them.

Second, any draft of the UCC must be gender-just, secular, and flexible enough to accommodate cultural variation without compromising core constitutional values. This means respecting tribal customs where they uphold equity, and reforming outdated practices where they violate dignity.

Third, education and awareness are essential. People fear what they don’t understand. A clear, transparent roadmap for UCC presented in regional languages, through community outreach can help reduce misunderstanding and resistance.

And finally, political leaders must stop using UCC as a tool for polarization. It should not be a promise during elections and a silence afterward. If equality is truly the goal, it should reflect in consistent action not in selective outrage. India doesn’t need one law to make everyone the same. It needs one law that makes no one less.

CONCLUSION

The Uniform Civil Code, as imagined by the Constitution, was never about wiping out religious identity. It was about ensuring that rights are not dependent on religion. But the journey so far has been marked by hesitation, misinterpretation, and political use. The idea has drifted from constitutional mandate to controversial debate leaving behind the very people it was meant to protect.

If India is to live up to the promise of justice, liberty, and equality for all, the UCC must rise above politics and prejudice. It must be more than a legal checkbox it must be a living commitment to fairness. And that will only happen when reform is rooted not just in law books, but in listening to people.

REFERENCES

1 . INDIA CONST. art. 44.

2. Shayara Bano v. Union of India, (2017) 9 SCC 1.

3. Mohd. Ahmed Khan v. Shah Bano Begum, (1985) 2 SCC 556.

4.Sarla Mudgal v. Union of India, (1995) 3 SCC 635.

5.B. Sivaramayya, Uniform Civil Code and Gender Justice, 38 J. Indian L. Inst. 1 (1996).

6.Rohit De, A People’s Constitution: The Everyday Life of Law in the Indian Republic (Princeton University Press, 2018).

7.Flavia Agnes, Minority Women and the Uniform Civil Code, 32 Econ. & Pol. Wkly. 12 (1997).

8.Rajeev Dhavan, The Case Against the Uniform Civil Code, 2 S. Asian Rev. 2 (2000).

9.Pratibha Jain, The Uniform Civil Code Debate in India: A Historical Overview, 45 B.C. Int’l & Comp. L. Rev. 2 (2005).

10.INDIA CONST. art. 371A & Sixth Schedule.

11.Seema Kazi, Muslim Women in India: Political and Private Realities, Routledge (2020).

12.Law Commission of India, Report No. 277: Uniform Civil Code (2018).

13.Law Commission of India, Consultation Paper on Reform of Family Law (2018).