The passing of the Uniform Civil Code 2026 in the Assam Legislative Assembly last week invites a question that goes beyond the political optics and noise: How does this legislation actually hold together as law? Examined closely, the Bill is a study in contradiction – progressively ambitious in its stated objectives, yet structurally undermined by the very exemptions and assumptions it relies upon.
Legislation of this reach deserves to be read carefully, and a close reading of the Bill raises questions that will matter considerably once it moves from the Assembly floor to the courtroom.
The government has anchored the Bill in Article 44 of the Constitution, which directs the state to work toward a Uniform Civil Code (UCC). The choice is symbolically apt, but Article 44 is a Directive Principle of State Policy (DPSP) non-justiciable by design, meaning courts cannot compel its enforcement or use it alone to sustain legislation that engages Fundamental Rights. The more consequential question is whether this particular law withstands scrutiny under Part III of the Constitution.
There is also another complication. State legislative competence in this area rests on Entry 5 of the Concurrent List, which covers marriage, divorce, succession, and adoption. But Article 254 of the Constitution renders state law inoperative where it conflicts with existing central legislation on the same subject.
The Hindu Marriage Act, 1955; the Indian Succession Act, 1925; and the Muslim Personal Law (Shariat) Application Act, 1937, fall within this precise field. Without Presidential assent specifically enabling an override, the Bill’s day-to-day operational scope may be legally uncertain.
Live-in registration clause
The mandatory registration of live-in relationships has attracted the most immediate legal attention. Since the Supreme Court’s landmark decision in Justice KS Puttaswamy vs Union of India (2017), privacy has been a fundamental right under Article 21, and the state must clear a high bar of legality, necessity, and proportionality before it may intrude upon it.
It is in these requirements that the Bill’s position will be most exposed. A live-in relationship is, by its nature, a private arrangement between consenting adults. Compelling its registration calls for a demonstrated public interest that cannot be served by less invasive alternatives. The Court had already recognised, in S Khushboo vs Kanniammal (2010), that such relationships fall within the domain of individual liberty.
Mandatory registration transforms that liberty into something closer to a licensed status, and courts may not treat that distinction lightly. A challenge is almost certain; the government’s ability to defend the clause on proportionality grounds is, at best, uncertain.
The complete exemption of the Scheduled Tribes population from Assam is constitutionally defensible but only in isolation. Articles 342 and the Fifth and Sixth Schedules provide meaningful protection for tribal customary law, and the government is right to acknowledge that. The difficulty is that this concession sits uneasily alongside the Bill’s own stated object of establishing ‘one law for all citizens’. Legislation that does not apply to one in eight residents of the state invites a straightforward question.
The deeper concern is one of equality. Article 14 requires not merely that the law treat like cases alike, but that any classification be grounded in a rational basis connected to the law’s purpose. If the purpose is gender justice and legal uniformity, then the exclusion of tribal women from precisely those protections needs a more substantive justification than political accommodation. Whether the exemption protects tribal women or simply leaves them outside the ambit of reform is a question the courts are likely to ask, and one the government would do well to address proactively.
Also read: India’s new labour safety code promises more jobs and safer workplaces
Where the Bill stands on firmer ground
The prohibition on polygamy, with criminal consequences under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, rests on well-established legal precedent. The Supreme Court addressed this directly in Sarla Mudgal vs Union of India (1995) and Lily Thomas vs Union of India (2000), holding that religious personal law offers no immunity from criminal sanction in this regard.
This is the provision most likely to survive constitutional challenge, and it represents, in many respects, the Bill’s most legally coherent contribution.
Similarly, challenges under Article 25, the right to freedom of religion, while inevitable, face a demanding threshold. Settled doctrine distinguishes between religious practice and the secular civil effects of religious ceremonies. Marriage registration and inheritance rules are not, in established jurisprudence, matters of essential religious practice.
Assam’s UCC is best understood as the beginning of a legal conversation rather than its conclusion. The polygamy ban is sound. But the live-in registration clause, the Scheduled Tribes exemption, and the unresolved questions under Article 254 mean that what has been passed is, in a meaningful sense, still a work in progress. If challenged, the courts may have the final word, and there is every indication that they will have quite a lot to say.
The author is a lawyer and former assistant professor at OP Jindal Global University. He hosts the Chicken-neck podcast. Views are personal.
(Edited by Saptak Datta)