CLAT PG Current Affairs — 3 September 2026

Kesavananda Bharati, head seer of Edaneer Mutt in Kasargod, died recently at 80. His 1970 petition challenging Kerala's land reforms Act gave rise to the landmark 1973 Supreme Court ruling by a 13-judge bench. In a 7:6 verdict, the Court held Parliament could amend any constitutional provision under Article 368, but could not destroy the Constitution's basic structure — a doctrine that continues to govern constitutional amendment law in India.

The basic structure doctrine is the most consequential constitutional principle developed by Indian courts. It emerged from a direct collision between parliamentary sovereignty and constitutional supremacy.

Before Kesavananda Bharati (1973), the Golak Nath case (1967) held by an 11-judge bench that Parliament could not amend fundamental rights at all. This was constitutionally rigid. The Indira Gandhi government responded by passing the 24th Amendment (Parliament can amend any provision including fundamental rights), the 25th Amendment (curtailed right to property; compensation determined by Parliament, not courts), and the 29th Amendment (placed Kerala Land Reforms Act in the Ninth Schedule, shielding it from judicial review).

The Kesavananda bench — 13 judges, the largest ever — overruled Golak Nath in part. Parliament could amend fundamental rights, but only if the amendment did not abrogate or alter the 'basic structure' of the Constitution. The doctrine found its decisive articulation in Justice HR Khanna's formulation.

The Court identified the basic structure as including: supremacy of the Constitution, republican and democratic form of government, secular character, separation of powers, and federal character. Critically, right to property was held NOT to be part of the basic structure, so Bharati lost his specific case.

The doctrine's evolution continued: Minerva Mills (1980) struck down the 42nd Amendment's attempt to limit judicial review; SR Bommai (1994) used it to curb misuse of Article 356; and the NJAC judgment (2015) struck down the 99th Amendment replacing the collegium system.

For CLAT PG, the key test is: does the amendment destroy or abrogate the basic structure? Cosmetic changes survive; structural dismantlement does not.

The Supreme Court will hear the Centre's plea seeking clarification of its earlier ruling that a parent's salary alone cannot determine whether an OBC candidate falls within the creamy layer. The original judgment held that overall economic and social advancement must be assessed holistically, not by income alone. The Centre now seeks guidance on how to operationalise this principle while framing OBC reservation policy, making this a pivotal moment for reservation jurisprudence under Articles 15 and 16.

The 'creamy layer' doctrine is a constitutional device originating in Indra Sawhney v. Union of India (1992), where a nine-judge bench held that the most advanced members of OBCs — those who have already achieved social and educational advancement comparable to the forward classes — must be excluded from OBC reservations. The court reasoned that reservation under Articles 15(4) and 16(4) targets backwardness, and once that backwardness is overcome, the constitutional justification for special treatment disappears.

The creamy layer test is therefore not merely an income test; it is a composite test of social, educational, and economic advancement. The Supreme Court's ruling under challenge clarified this: salary of a parent, taken in isolation, cannot be the sole criterion. A government employee earning above a threshold but belonging to a community still socially backward may not automatically cross the creamy layer.

This matters for Article 16(4), which permits the state to make provisions for reservation of appointments or posts in favour of 'backward class of citizens' that is 'not adequately represented.' The creamy layer exclusion ensures that 'backward class' is defined with precision — capturing genuine backwardness, not historical caste identity alone.

The Centre's plea now asks the court to translate this principle into an administrable standard — which criteria beyond income (parental occupation, generation of education, social mobility indicators) must be factored in. The answer will directly govern how Union Public Service Commission and state service commissions classify OBC candidates at the certificate-verification stage.

The Constitution (One Hundred and Sixth Amendment) Act, 2023, commonly called the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam, reserves one-third of seats for women in the Lok Sabha and State Legislative Assemblies. However, the reservation cannot be operationalised until after a delimitation exercise is conducted following the first Census after the Act's commencement. Home Minister Amit Shah confirmed that SC and ST seat counts will increase with delimitation, linking both processes. The law passed both Houses in September 2023 with near-unanimous support.

The Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam inserts Articles 330A and 332A into the Constitution, mandating one-third reservation for women in the Lok Sabha and State Assemblies respectively. Article 334A sets the sunset clause: the reservation will last for fifteen years from commencement. Critically, the operative trigger is a delimitation exercise conducted after the first Census post-commencement — meaning until both the Census and the subsequent delimitation are completed, no constituency is formally reserved for women under this law.

This structure creates a constitutional paradox worth noting for exams: a right is created but deferred. The law is in force, yet unenforceable without a future demographic event. This is constitutionally significant because it tests the boundary between a justiciable right and a contingent entitlement.

The amendment also provides for reservation of seats for SC and ST women within the overall one-third quota — not as an addition to it. Home Minister Shah's statement that SC/ST seat numbers will increase with delimitation is relevant because any increase in total seats proportionally expands women's reserved seats too.

The amendment required a special majority under Article 368 and ratification by at least half the State Legislatures, given that it affects representation in State Assemblies. It did not require State ratification under Article 368(2) for Lok Sabha changes but did for State Assembly provisions — a distinction the examiner may test.

The Supreme Court reaffirmed that guilt cannot be presumed merely because the investigating officer faced allegations of collusion or bias. The court held that the accused's culpability must be established on independent evidence, not inferred from procedural irregularities or misconduct of the investigating agency. The judgment reinforces that faulty investigation is a factor the court weighs, but it cannot substitute for proof of innocence or automatically entitle an accused to acquittal when substantive evidence of guilt remains on record.

This ruling addresses a recurring argument in criminal trials: that because the investigating officer was allegedly colluding with one party, the entire investigation is tainted and the accused must be acquitted. The Supreme Court firmly rejected this reasoning.

The foundational principle at work is that the burden of proof in criminal cases lies on the prosecution (Section 101, Indian Evidence Act / Section 116, BSA 2023). That burden is discharged or not discharged based on the quality of evidence before the court — not on the character of the person who collected it. Indian courts have consistently held that faulty or biased investigation does not ipso facto lead to acquittal if credible, independent evidence of guilt survives the taint.

The court distinguishes between two separate questions: (1) Was the investigation conducted fairly? and (2) Has guilt been proved beyond reasonable doubt? Answering 'no' to the first does not automatically answer 'no' to the second. Courts are required to sift through evidence and identify what remains reliable despite investigative lapses.

This principle traces to a line of Supreme Court decisions including Masalti v. State of U.P. and Hussainara Khatoon, and is deeply connected to the constitutional presumption of innocence flowing from Article 21. The examiner is likely to test whether aspirants can correctly identify the evidentiary standard that survives even a compromised investigation.

The Supreme Court has ruled that no court possesses the authority to compel a woman, particularly a minor, to carry a pregnancy against her will. Grounding the ruling in Articles 21 and 14, the Court held that reproductive autonomy is a fundamental right inseparable from personal liberty and dignity. The judgment reinforces that forced continuation of pregnancy constitutes a violation of bodily integrity and cannot be sanctioned by any judicial order, regardless of gestational age.

This ruling sits at the intersection of Article 21 (right to life and personal liberty), Article 14 (equality), and the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971 (as amended in 2021). The Supreme Court has progressively expanded Article 21 beyond bare survival to include dignity, autonomy, and bodily integrity — a trajectory traceable from Francis Coralie Mullin (1981) through K.S. Puttaswamy (2017), which explicitly recognised reproductive choice as part of the right to privacy.

The key constitutional doctrine here is that reproductive autonomy is a facet of personal liberty. The Court has consistently held in X v. Principal Secretary (2022) that denying abortion access to unmarried women violates Article 14. The present ruling extends that logic: a court order forcing pregnancy continuation is itself an unconstitutional act, regardless of whether the pregnancy arose from consent, assault, or statutory rape in the case of a minor.

The MTP Act 1971, amended in 2021, is the legislative framework: it extends the upper gestational limit to 24 weeks for vulnerable categories (survivors of sexual assault, minors, women with disabilities) and removes the upper limit entirely where a Medical Board certifies substantial foetal abnormality. Courts entertaining abortion petitions must read the MTP Act through the constitutional lens of Article 21 — the woman's will is paramount.

For CLAT PG, the examiner will likely present a passage from X v. Principal Secretary or the present ruling and test whether candidates can identify (a) the right, (b) the constitutional articles engaged, and (c) how MTP Act categories operate.

Parliament passed the Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Amendment Bill, 2026, with Rajya Sabha approving it after Lok Sabha had already cleared it. The amendment revises the original 2019 Act, which had faced sustained criticism from the transgender community and legal scholars for its definition of transgender identity, the certificate-based recognition process, and inadequate welfare provisions. The passage marks a legislative attempt to address those constitutional challenges while retaining the statutory framework established in 2019.

The Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019 was landmark but deeply contested. Critics argued it contradicted the Supreme Court's NALSA v. Union of India (2014) judgment, which recognised the right to self-identify gender without medical or surgical certification, grounded in Articles 14, 19, and 21. The 2019 Act's requirement for a District Screening Committee to issue a certificate was seen as re-imposing exactly the bureaucratic gatekeeping that NALSA had struck down.

The 2026 Amendment is significant for three exam-relevant reasons. First, it represents Parliament's legislative response to judicial directions — the classic interplay between the Supreme Court's interpretation of fundamental rights and Parliament's duty to legislate conformably. Second, it tests the principle of reasonable accommodation under equality law: does the statute move from formal equality (treating all alike) to substantive equality (recognising structural disadvantage)? Third, for CLAT PG, the amendment reopens the debate on whether self-identification is now statutory or merely judicially recognised — a distinction that matters when applying law to fact patterns.

The NALSA framework remains the constitutional baseline. Any Amendment inconsistent with NALSA's self-identification principle would face Article 13 challenge. Examiners will test whether aspirants can distinguish between what Parliament enacted, what the Court held, and what remains constitutionally mandated regardless of legislative changes.

The Supreme Court's 2023 constitution bench ruling in the Shiv Sena split case—Subhash Desai v. Principal Secretary, Governor of Maharashtra—did not conclusively reject the legislative majority test as a method to determine the real political party. The Eknath Shinde faction now argues before the Election Commission that the Uddhav Thackeray group aligned with the ideologically opposite Congress-NCP combine, while Shinde's faction maintained the original Shiv Sena-BJP alliance, making legislative majority the genuine indicator of party identity.

The Shiv Sena split case sits at the intersection of three constitutional provisions: the Tenth Schedule (anti-defection law), Article 75/164 (collective responsibility and the role of the Governor), and the Election Commission's jurisdiction under the Symbols Order, 1968 to adjudge competing claims to a party's name and symbol.

The Tenth Schedule, inserted by the 52nd Constitutional Amendment 1985, disqualifies a member who 'voluntarily gives up membership' of the original party or votes against party directions. Crucially, the Speaker decides disqualification, but the Supreme Court in Nabam Rebia (2016) held that the Speaker cannot proceed with disqualification when a motion for their own removal is pending—a procedural shield the Shinde faction invoked.

The Constitution Bench in Subhash Desai v. Principal Secretary (May 2023) ruled: (1) the Governor had no objective material to invite Shinde to form government; (2) the floor test ordered was unconstitutional; (3) the Speaker's decision to recognise the Gogawale Whip was contrary to the Tenth Schedule; but (4) the Court declined to restore the Uddhav government because he had resigned before the floor test.

On the question of who is the 'real' party—the central political-law issue now before the Election Commission—the Court explicitly did not rule out the 'legislative majority test' (i.e., counting which faction commands more legislators). This keeps alive the argument that a faction holding the majority of elected representatives is the original party, a principle with roots in the Sadiq Ali v. Election Commission (1972) ruling where the EC used a combined test of legislative and organisational majority.

The Tenth Schedule's paragraph 3 (merger exception, requiring two-thirds of party legislators) was the only legitimate route for Shinde; the Court found a split (paragraph 3's predecessor, deleted in 2003) cannot be claimed. This doctrinal gap—no 'split' defence exists post-2003 amendment—makes the legislative majority argument before the EC even more significant for CLAT PG aspirants.

The Supreme Court acquitted a man convicted for the murder of a child after he had already served 16 years in prison, finding several critical gaps in the prosecution's evidence. The Court held that the chain of circumstantial evidence was incomplete and did not conclusively establish guilt beyond reasonable doubt. Key evidentiary links — including recovery, last seen, and motive — were either absent or unproved, making the conviction unsustainable under established principles governing circumstantial evidence.

This ruling reinforces one of the most tested principles in Indian evidence law: the standard of proof required to sustain a conviction based entirely on circumstantial evidence. Indian courts, following the landmark framework laid down in Sharad Birdhichand Sarda v. State of Maharashtra (1984), require that all circumstances must be firmly established by evidence, the facts must be consistent only with the hypothesis of guilt, and the chain must be so complete that it excludes every other reasonable hypothesis. If even one link is missing, the entire chain collapses and acquittal follows — not because innocence is proved, but because guilt is not proved beyond reasonable doubt.

This is a critical distinction for CLAT PG: the burden of proving guilt always rests on the prosecution. The accused has no obligation to prove innocence. Section 101 of the Indian Evidence Act (Section 116, BSA 2023) places the burden of proof on the party who asserts a fact. In murder cases built on circumstantial evidence, courts ask whether the last-seen theory, motive, recovery, and conduct of the accused — taken together — form an unbroken chain pointing exclusively to guilt.

The 16-year imprisonment before acquittal also raises important constitutional dimensions: Article 21 (right to life and personal liberty) and the principle that an unjust conviction is itself a constitutional wrong. CLAT PG examiners frequently test whether aspirants understand the difference between the burden of proof (fixed, on prosecution) and the onus of proof (shifting), and how circumstantial evidence is assessed differently from direct evidence.

The Punjab and Haryana High Court held that ordering re-investigation cannot nullify a valid acquittal that already subsists. In the case before it, a trial court had pronounced a judgment of acquittal despite a stay order being in force. The High Court ruled that the acquittal, once recorded, continues to hold legal effect and cannot be undone merely through a direction for fresh investigation. The double jeopardy protection under Article 20(2) and CrPC provisions governing acquittal remain intact.

This ruling engages three overlapping doctrines in criminal procedure — the finality of acquittal, the protection against double jeopardy, and the limited scope of re-investigation orders.

First, an acquittal is not an interlocutory order; it is a final determination of criminal liability. Once pronounced, it attracts the protection under Article 20(2) of the Constitution (no person shall be prosecuted and punished for the same offence more than once) and Section 300 CrPC (now Section 337 BNSS), which bars a second trial for the same offence after acquittal or conviction.

Second, courts have the power to order re-investigation — most prominently under Section 173(8) CrPC (Section 193 BNSS) — when a chargesheet has already been filed. The Supreme Court in Vinay Tyagi v. Irshad Ali (2013) and Rama Chaudhary v. State of Bihar (2009) held that re-investigation cannot be ordered once a trial has concluded; it is permissible only at pre-trial or mid-trial stages, not post-acquittal.

Third, the High Court's specific finding here is that even a procedurally defective judgment (pronounced in defiance of a stay) does not become a nullity automatically. The acquittal subsists until it is set aside by a competent appellate court. An investigating agency or a lower court cannot bypass this by merely directing fresh investigation.

For CLAT PG, the key takeaway is the hierarchy: constitutional protection (Art. 20(2)) > statutory bar (S. 300 CrPC / S. 337 BNSS) > executive/investigative action. No re-investigation can override a subsisting acquittal.