SRHR-J and the Constitution

31 May, 2025

Your body's toolkit for doing an anatomy of rights and justice.

Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR) meet the Indian Constitution in this all-in-one toolkit. Think of it as a sharp, accessible, and unapologetically feminist guide that’s part academic analysis, part practical manual. We’ll dissect how fundamental rights and directive principles protect (or should protect) your SRHR, and break down specific issues; abortion, contraception, surrogacy, through a legal lens. Use it to inform your activism, draft petitions, or simply to shut down that one uncle who insists “reproductive rights aren’t constitutional.” Let’s dive in.

Evolution of Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR)

The concept of SRHR has evolved through decades of advocacy, legal reforms, and global consensus-building. It encompasses the right to sexual health, reproductive autonomy, and access to related healthcare free from coercion, discrimination, and violence. Below is a brief historical overview of how SRHR developed globally and in India:

Global Evolution of SRHR

• 1968 – Recognizing Family Planning as a Human Right: The International Conference on Human Rights in Tehran (1968) declared that “Parents have a basic human right to determine freely and responsibly the number and spacing of their children”. This proclamation was a milestone, framing family planning and contraceptive access as fundamental human rights rather than mere population policies. It laid the groundwork for viewing reproductive choice as a rights-based issue rather than purely a demographic concern.

• 1970s – Women’s Rights and Early Treaties: The 1970s saw women’s equality and health move to the forefront of international agendas. In 1975, the first World Conference on Women (Mexico City) echoed the call for reproductive choice in the context of gender equality. In 1979, the UN adopted the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), a near-universal treaty that explicitly protects women’s reproductive rights. CEDAW’s Article 12 guarantees equal access to healthcare (including family planning), and Article 16(e) affirms women’s right “to decide freely and responsibly on the number and spacing of their children and to have access to the information, education and means to enable them to exercise these rights”. These provisions shifted the narrative from population control to women’s bodily autonomy.

• 1994 – International Conference on Population and Development (ICPD): A watershed moment came at the ICPD in Cairo, 1994. 184 countries (including India) adopted a groundbreaking Programme of Action that for the first time treated reproductive health as a matter of individual rights rather than fertility targets. The ICPD defined “reproductive health” holistically, encompassing not only family planning but also safe pregnancy and childbirth, prevention and treatment of STIs, and sexual health. It asserted that governments must meet individuals’ reproductive health needs – including the right to a satisfying and safe sex life and the freedom to decide if and when to have children. This was a paradigm shift away from coercive population policies; women’s rights and health needs took center stage in development discourse. The ICPD consensus also addressed issues like violence against women, sex trafficking, and adolescent reproductive health. (Notably, conservative states entered reservations on contentious issues such as abortion and adolescent sexuality, reflecting ongoing global debates.)

• 1995 – Beijing Women’s Conference: The Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing (1995) built on ICPD and went further in affirming sexual rights as human rights. The Beijing Platform for Action stated unequivocally that “women have the right to have control over and decide freely and responsibly on matters related to their sexuality, including sexual and reproductive health, free of coercion, discrimination and violence”. It framed women’s reproductive rights as “indivisible, universal and inalienable human rights,” linking women’s empowerment, health, and freedom from violence. Beijing expanded the SRHR agenda to include issues like marital rape and forced sterilization as human rights violations. This era firmly established that gender equality requires guaranteeing women’s reproductive choice and sexual autonomy.

• 2000s – Consolidation and Challenges: In the 2000s, elements of SRHR were incorporated into global development goals. The Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) initially focused narrowly on reducing maternal mortality, but by 2007 MDG Target 5B was added to “achieve universal access to reproductive health”. However, some aspects of SRHR (e.g. safe abortion, comprehensive sexuality education) remained politically sensitive and were often sidelined. In response, UN human rights bodies began issuing guidance to reinforce SRHR: for example, the CEDAW Committee’s general recommendations and the Committee on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights’ General Comment 22 (2016) clarified that the right to health includes sexual and reproductive health without discrimination. Nonetheless, global progress was uneven. While many countries liberalized laws (over 60 countries expanded legal abortion access in the past 30 years) and expanded contraception access, there were also pushbacks, such as restrictions on sexuality education and reproductive services in some regions.

• 2015 – Sustainable Development Agenda: The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) reinforced SRHR commitments at a global policy level. SDG 3.7 calls for universal access to sexual and reproductive health services (including family planning, information and education) by 2030, and SDG 5.6 calls for universal access to reproductive rights and integration of these into national strategies. This marked the first time reproductive rights were explicitly included in global development targets, reflecting the consensus that SRHR is integral to health, gender equality, and sustainable development.

• Recent Developments: The late 2010s and 2020s have seen both advancements and new challenges for SRHR. On one hand, there is greater recognition of LGBTQ+ rights and their connection to sexual health (e.g. the 2006 Yogyakarta Principles asserted that international law protects the sexual orientation and gender identity rights of individuals, including access to HIV prevention, hormonal therapies, etc.). On the other hand, geopolitical shifts have led to funding cuts for reproductive health and conservative backlashes in some countries. The World Health Organization’s 2004 Global Reproductive Health Strategy (endorsed by nearly all Member States) and subsequent efforts have helped countries strengthen health systems for SRHR, but issues like high maternal mortality in certain regions, unmet need for contraception, and lack of comprehensive sex education persist. As WHO officials noted in 2023, the SRHR agenda remains “unfinished and in some instances has regressed” due to factors like conflict, economic stress, and the COVID-19 pandemic. Thus, the evolution of SRHR is an ongoing process – one that requires vigilance to protect past gains and continue advancing inclusive, rights-based policies.

SRHR in India: Historical Timeline

India’s trajectory on SRHR reflects a mix of early policy initiatives, later rights-based reforms, and continuing social challenges. Below is a timeline of key developments in India:

• 1920s – Pioneers of Birth Control: Even before Independence, activists in India advocated for reproductive autonomy. Notably, Raghunath Dhondo Karve published a magazine Samaj Swasthya (since 1927) promoting contraceptive use to prevent unwanted pregnancies and unsafe abortions. Visionaries like Karve and social reformer Periyar saw birth control as vital for women’s empowerment, though they faced opposition (Mahatma Gandhi, for example, opposed artificial contraception, favoring abstinence). This early discourse set the stage for public acceptance of family planning in later decades.

• 1952 – First National Family Planning Programme: Just a few years after Independence, India became the first country in the developing world to launch a state-sponsored family planning program. The National Family Planning Programme (1952) aimed to lower fertility rates and slow population growth for economic development. Early principles emphasized voluntary participation – “Parents alone must decide the number of children they want” – and integrating services with maternal and child health care. Over subsequent Five-Year Plans, the program initially promoted methods like the rhythm method and later aggressively pushed IUDs and sterilization. India’s pioneering program achieved some success in reducing fertility, but its top-down implementation and later coercive excesses also stirred controversy.

• 1970s – Population Control at All Costs: By the 1970s, concerns about rapid population growth led to draconian measures. In 1975–77, during the Emergency under Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, India infamously implemented a forced sterilization campaign. Men (especially from poorer communities) were targeted; officially those with two or more children were required to undergo sterilization, but in practice many young or childless men were coerced. This campaign (led by Sanjay Gandhi) led to widespread human rights abuses and a public backlash. It created a lasting distrust of family planning programs. After this episode, the government shifted its focus primarily to female sterilization (deeming it politically less risky than targeting men). The late 1970s experience highlighted the vital lesson that reproductive policies must respect individual rights and choices – a lesson that would inform later rights-based approaches.

• 1971 – Legalization of Abortion: Amid the population control era, India passed the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971 (MTP Act), making abortion legal under certain conditions. Notably, this law predated Roe v. Wade (1973) and made India one of the earlier countries to permit legal abortion. However, the driving force was not women’s autonomy but rather public health and demographic concerns. The government was alarmed by high maternal deaths from unsafe “backstreet” abortions and saw legalizing abortion as a way to protect women’s health and curb population growth. Under the 1971 law, abortions were allowed up to a certain gestational limit for reasons including risk to the woman’s life or health (physical or mental), fetal abnormalities, rape, or contraceptive failure (only for married women, as originally drafted). While progressive for its time, the MTP Act framed abortion as a medical necessity and state-sanctioned exception rather than a woman’s right to choose. Women were “protected” from unsafe providers, but not yet empowered as decision-makers over their own bodies. This paternalistic approach – seeing women as in need of protection more than rights – persisted for decades in Indian reproductive law.

• 1980s – Growing Women’s Health Movement: During the 1980s, Indian civil society and women’s groups increasingly challenged coercive or unsafe reproductive health practices. Activists exposed the health risks of certain contraceptives and campaigned for greater accountability. For example, feminist groups successfully protested the mass distribution of high-dose hormonal contraceptives and unsafe IUDs in public programs. The Unsafe contraceptive trials and the Depo-Provera controversy in the 1980s led to demands that women’s informed consent and health be prioritized over demographic targets. This era also saw a broader women’s rights movement in India pushing for legal reforms on dowry, rape, and domestic violence – creating a more favorable climate for recognizing women’s bodily rights. In 1987, India joined the global Safe Motherhood Initiative, highlighting maternal mortality reduction as a key goal. By the end of the 1980s, the stage was set for a shift from narrow family planning targets to a more holistic reproductive health approach.

• 1994 – ICPD and Policy Shift in India: India was a signatory to the ICPD Programme of Action (1994), committing to orient its policies toward reproductive health and rights. This prompted a major overhaul of national family welfare programs. In April 1996, India scrapped its infamous system of micro-targets for contraceptive acceptors – moving to a “Target Free Approach” in family planning. The government officially recognized that coercive, quota-driven methods were counterproductive and unethical. Following ICPD’s recommendations, India launched the Reproductive and Child Health (RCH) programme in October 1997. RCH adopted a client-centered approach, integrating family planning with maternal health, infant health, and adolescent health services. It emphasized informed choice, quality of care, and a comprehensive package of services – from contraception to safe delivery to treatment of reproductive tract infections. This was a significant policy evolution: the Ministry of Health stopped viewing population control as an end in itself and instead aimed to fulfill individuals’ health needs. By the late 1990s and early 2000s, India’s official policy statements explicitly spoke of women’s “reproductive rights” and “quality of care”, reflecting the influence of global norms. However, translating this into practice on the ground (especially in rural areas) proved challenging, and vestiges of the old target-oriented mindset lingered among local officials.

• 2000s – New Laws and Persistent Gaps: In the 2000s, India enacted laws addressing related aspects of SRHR. The Pre-Conception and Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (PCPNDT) Act, 1994 was strengthened in 2003 to combat sex-selective abortion and address India’s skewed sex ratio – an effort to uphold girls’ right to be born. The Prohibition of Child Marriage Act, 2006 replaced earlier child marriage laws with stricter provisions, recognizing that early marriage violates girls’ rights to health, education, and bodily autonomy. Despite this, child marriage remained prevalent in many regions, contributing to teenage pregnancies and poor maternal health outcomes. In terms of healthcare, the National Rural Health Mission (2005) bolstered reproductive-health infrastructure, training community health workers (ASHAs) to improve prenatal and infant care. Maternal mortality rates did start to fall (from about 370 per 100,000 live births in 2000 to 130 by 2014), reflecting better access to institutional delivery and obstetric care. Yet, disparities persisted – poorer states and rural areas still saw very high maternal and infant deaths, and access to modern contraception and safe abortion services remained uneven. The late 2000s also saw rising recognition of HIV/AIDS and the need for integrating HIV services with sexual health education. India’s public health efforts increasingly acknowledged adolescents’ needs, launching the Adolescent Reproductive and Sexual Health (ARSH) program under RCH II (2006). Still, social taboos meant that comprehensive sexuality education in schools faced backlash and was banned in some states, hampering informed choice for youth.

• 2009 – Reproductive Rights Enter Constitutional Jurisprudence: A landmark shift occurred through the judiciary. In Suchita Srivastava v. Chandigarh Administration (2009), the Supreme Court of India for the first time explicitly recognized a woman’s constitutional right to make reproductive choices as a facet of personal liberty under Article 21 (the right to life). The case involved a mentally disabled woman who became pregnant from rape; the Court upheld her right to continue the pregnancy, affirming that reproductive choice includes both the decision to procreate and to abstain from procreating. The judgment proclaimed that women’s rights to “privacy, dignity and bodily integrity” entitle them to decide matters of reproduction free from coercion. In parallel, the Delhi High Court in Laxmi Mandal v. Deen Dayal Hari Nager Hospital (2010) broke new ground by declaring that preventable maternal death is a violation of the fundamental right to life. It held that the “inalienable survival rights” guaranteed by Article 21 include a mother’s right to safe motherhood and basic obstetric care. These cases, though not widely known among the public, became cornerstones of India’s reproductive rights jurisprudence. They marked a turn from viewing reproductive issues purely as policy matters to recognizing them as enforceable rights in the courts.

• 2010s – Expansion of SRHR Jurisprudence: Building on those precedents, the last decade saw significant judicial and legal advancements:

  • Right to Privacy (2017): The Supreme Court’s seminal decision in K.S. Puttaswamy vs. Union of India (2017) cemented the fundamental right to privacy, including autonomy over personal decisions. The Court explicitly linked privacy to decisional autonomy in intimate matters, stating that “the ability to make choices... governing matters intimate and personal – such as the decision whether or not to bear a child” is at the core of one’s liberty. The judges affirmed that women have an exclusive right to bodily autonomy: “woman alone should be the choice maker” in reproductive decisions. This constitutional philosophy fortified SRHR, providing a strong basis to challenge laws that undermine women’s agency (for instance, the ongoing debates around criminalizing marital rape draw on this privacy-autonomy reasoning).

  • Decriminalization of Homosexuality (2018): In Navtej Singh Johar vs. Union of India (2018), the Supreme Court struck down Section 377 of the IPC, ending the colonial-era criminalization of consensual same-sex relations. This was a major victory for sexual rights in India. The change was partially spurred by international human rights advocacy – for years, UN member states in India’s Universal Periodic Review (UPR) had urged decriminalizing homosexuality and eliminating anti-LGBT discrimination. India initially “noted” (rejected) those recommendations in 2012 and 2017, but the Supreme Court’s 2018 judgment finally brought India into alignment with the global human rights consensus by affirming the dignity, privacy, and equality of LGBTQ individuals. The Court recognized that sexual orientation is an innate aspect of identity and that laws prohibiting same-sex intimacy violated fundamental rights. This watershed moment broadened the scope of SRHR in India beyond cisgender heterosexual populations, linking it with the right to love and partner freely.

  • Transgender Rights (2014 & 2019): In NALSA vs. Union of India (2014), the Supreme Court recognized transgender persons as a “third gender” and upheld their right to self-identification of gender. It directed the government to extend reservations and health facilities to trans people. The follow-up Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Act, 2019 aimed to provide rights to gender identity and prohibit discrimination in education, employment, and healthcare – including access to gender-affirming healthcare. While implementation is nascent, these steps acknowledge that SRHR must encompass all gender identities. Access to hormonal therapy, gender-reassignment procedures, and freedom from sexual violence are emerging issues at the intersection of transgender rights and SRHR.

  • Abortion Law Reform (2021–2022): India slightly liberalized its abortion law with the MTP (Amendment) Act, 2021, raising the gestational limit for certain cases to 24 weeks and explicitly allowing unmarried women to seek abortion for “failure of contraception” (a provision previously limited to married women). In 2022, the Supreme Court in X vs. Govt of NCT of Delhi interpreted the MTP Act to cover all women, married or unmarried, and notably held that forceful intercourse by a husband can be considered “marital rape” for the purposes of allowing the wife access to abortion in case of pregnancy. Although marital rape itself remains exempt from criminal prosecution in India (discussed below), this judgment was path-breaking in recognizing the harm of non-consensual sex within marriage and centering the woman’s right to bodily integrity. Collectively, these legal developments in the 2010s have expanded the understanding of SRHR in India to include sexual orientation, gender identity, and a more robust notion of reproductive autonomy.

• Ongoing Challenges: Despite progress, India faces significant SRHR challenges today. Maternal mortality, while improved, is still worryingly high in some states; the CEDAW Committee in 2014 noted “persistently high” maternal deaths in certain regions and the link to lack of access to modern contraception and safe abortion services. Unsafe abortions contribute to maternal mortality – even with legal abortion, barriers like stigma, shortage of trained providers (especially in rural areas), and poor awareness mean that many women resort to unsafe methods. The CEDAW Committee urged India to “provide women with access to high-quality and safe abortion services… and increase access to effective and affordable contraception”. Another pressing issue is adolescent SRH: early marriage and teenage pregnancy remain common in parts of India, undermining girls’ health and education. Child marriage, though illegal, continues due to socio-economic factors, and the CRC (Convention on Rights of the Child) Committee has expressed concern that adolescent girls’ health is neglected by such practices. Ensuring comprehensive sexuality education in schools is still an uphill battle, facing periodic political and cultural resistance. Gender-based violence, including rape and domestic violence, also impinges on women’s sexual and reproductive agency. Marital rape is one stark gap – India has not yet criminalized marital rape, despite repeated recommendations from UN reviews and its own Law Commission. International bodies and women’s rights advocates argue that this legal exception violates India’s obligations under CEDAW to eliminate discrimination and violence against women. The Indian government has been hesitant on this front, citing concerns about the institution of marriage, but there is growing pressure to change the law. Lastly, access disparities persist – urban, educated Indians (and those with means to seek private care) have far greater access to SRH services than marginalized groups such as rural women, tribal communities, LGBTQ people, and persons with disabilities. Addressing these inequities is part of the “unfinished agenda” of SRHR in India.

In summary, India’s journey reflects a move from a state-driven population control mindset (in the mid-20th century) to a more rights-respecting framework in the 21st century. Legal and policy reforms – often spurred by international commitments and domestic civil society activism – have acknowledged that reproductive and sexual health are fundamental to dignity and equality. Yet, as India continues to grapple with social norms and resource constraints, the evolution of SRHR remains a work in progress, requiring continued advocacy, education, and accountability.

International Bodies, Treaties, and India’s Commitments on SRHR

India’s SRHR landscape is also shaped by the international human rights system – including treaties it has joined, global conferences, and review mechanisms that hold the government accountable to its promises. This section outlines the major international frameworks on SRHR, India’s obligations, and an analysis of how India measures up to those standards (compliance and critiques).

Key International Frameworks Defining SRHR

• Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW), 1979: Often described as an international bill of women’s rights, CEDAW has been ratified by 189 countries (India ratified in 1993). It comprehensively covers women’s rights, including obligations relevant to SRHR. Under Article 12, states must eliminate discrimination in healthcare and ensure equal access to services “including those related to family planning.” Under Article 16, states must ensure women’s equal rights in marriage and family life – critically, Article 16(e) guarantees a woman’s right “to decide freely and responsibly on the number and spacing of her children and to have access to the information, education and means to enable her to exercise these rights”. These provisions make clear that women’s reproductive choices (and the means to carry them out, like contraception and maternal healthcare) are basic rights, not privileges. By ratifying CEDAW, India has committed to reform laws, policies, and customs that violate women’s rights in these areas. (However, India entered significant reservations: it declared that it would implement Article 5(a) and 16 in line with personal customs and religious law, essentially exempting itself from interfering in discriminatory family practices without community “consent”. India also has not accepted the Optional Protocol of CEDAW which allows individual complaints, limiting accountability.) Despite these caveats, CEDAW provides a strong international mandate for India to, for example, ensure women have access to contraception, safe motherhood, and legal abortion, and to eliminate practices like forced sterilization, child marriage, or marital rape that undermine women’s equality. The CEDAW Committee (a UN expert body monitoring implementation) periodically reviews India’s progress and has issued pointed recommendations (discussed below).

• Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC), 1989: As a party to the CRC (India ratified in 1992), India must fulfill children’s rights to health, education, and protection from harm – all of which intersect with SRHR for adolescents. Article 24 of CRC recognizes the right of the child to the “highest attainable standard of health” and specifically calls on states to take measures to abolish traditional practices prejudicial to children’s health. The CRC Committee has clarified that this includes combating child marriage and early pregnancy, given that “early marriage and pregnancy are significant factors in health problems related to sexual and reproductive health” for adolescent girls. The Committee has urged that adolescents have access to age-appropriate reproductive health information and services, including comprehensive sexuality education and confidential counseling, to prevent early pregnancies and STIs. It also emphasizes eliminating gender discrimination in nutrition and healthcare for girls. For India, these obligations translate to actions like enforcing the minimum age of marriage, providing adolescent-friendly health services (for contraception, menstrual hygiene, etc.), and integrating life skills and sex education in school curricula. In practice, while India has policies (such as the Adolescents Education Program and RKSK – Rashtriya Kishor Swasthya Karyakram) aligned with these aims, conservative opposition and patchy implementation mean many youths still lack critical SRH knowledge. The CRC Committee’s reviews of India have expressed concern that “the health of adolescents, particularly girls, is neglected”, citing very high rates of early marriage and noting that these undermine girls’ health and rights. Thus, CRC reinforces that SRHR is not just about adults or married couples – children and teenagers have rights too, which India is duty-bound to protect (for example, providing HPV vaccines to girls, or ensuring that sexual abuse laws like POCSO don’t unintentionally prevent older adolescents from accessing contraception).

• International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR), 1966: India ratified the ICESCR in 1979, thereby accepting the obligation to ensure the right to the highest attainable standard of health (Article 12) and other related rights like the right to education and the right to non-discrimination. While the ICESCR does not explicitly mention reproductive or sexual health, its monitoring body (the UN Committee on ESCR) has clarified that these are integral components. In 2016, the Committee adopted General Comment No. 22 on the Right to Sexual and Reproductive Health, which affirms that the right to health “includes an obligation to respect, protect and fulfil women’s and girls’ sexual and reproductive freedom” as part of the covenant. This means states must make available accessible, acceptable, and good-quality SRH services (mirroring the standards of availability, accessibility, acceptability, quality – AAAQ). Importantly, the ICESCR framework frames SRHR in terms of state duties to progressively realize these rights without discrimination. For India, examples of compliance would include allocating sufficient budget to public health for maternal care, regulating the private healthcare sector so that maternal care and contraception are affordable, and ensuring marginalized communities (rural, impoverished, lower caste, etc.) have equal access. The ESCR Committee has not reviewed India very frequently, but when it has, it highlighted issues like the need to reduce maternal and infant mortality and to improve access to health facilities in rural areas. The right to health also implies access to safe drinking water, sanitation, and nutrition – factors closely tied to reproductive health outcomes (e.g. anemia in pregnant women). As part of ICESCR, India should also ensure essential medicines are available – which includes contraceptives and life-saving drugs for pregnancy complications. While India’s constitution does not enumerate these socioeconomic rights explicitly, they have been read into the Directive Principles and the fundamental right to life by Indian courts. Thus, international covenant obligations provide a strong foundation for activists to demand better health services and to challenge gross failures (such as deaths in childbirth due to negligence) as human rights violations.

• International Conference on Population and Development (ICPD), 1994: Though not a treaty, the ICPD Programme of Action is a globally-agreed policy framework that significantly shapes SRHR commitments. India was a key participant at Cairo and fully endorsed the ICPD consensus. By doing so, India pledged to orient its population and health policies around individual needs and rights rather than demographic targets. The ICPD set specific goals – e.g. reducing infant and maternal mortality, providing universal access to family planning by 2015, and integrating reproductive health into primary healthcare. It also affirmed the necessity of women’s empowerment and gender equality as part of population and development strategies. India’s National Population Policy 2000 and subsequent programs (RCH, NRHM) were direct outcomes of ICPD influence, emphasizing a “target-free” approach and reproductive health package. The ICPD is reviewed in five-year intervals (ICPD+5, +10, etc.), and India regularly reports progress. By the ICPD+25 Nairobi Summit in 2019, India reconfirmed its commitment to zero preventable maternal deaths, zero unmet need for contraception, and zero gender-based violence and harmful practices – echoing the global Three Zeros campaign. However, implementation gaps remain. For instance, “unmet need” for family planning in India, while reduced, is still notable, and quality of care issues (e.g., over-reliance on female sterilization) are persistent. The Montevideo Consensus (2013) and Bangkok Declaration (2013) are regional agreements reinforcing ICPD goals, which India has acknowledged. In summary, the ICPD gives India a blueprint for SRHR, and although it’s not legally binding like a treaty, it carries significant moral and political weight. India’s performance on metrics like maternal mortality (which fell but still above target) and adolescent birth rate is often assessed against ICPD goals.

• Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, 1995: Another influential non-treaty framework, the Beijing Platform (which India signed onto at the Fourth World Conference on Women) dedicates a section to women’s health and rights. It echoes the ICPD definition of reproductive health and crucially expands on sexual rights, stating that women have the right to control their sexuality free from coercion and violence. It called for removing legal, regulatory, and cultural barriers to women’s control over their fertility and sexuality. For India, Beijing’s commitments translated into efforts like reviewing laws that discriminate (e.g., inheritance laws, which were amended in 2005 to give daughters equal rights – indirectly empowering women economically, which correlates with better SRH outcomes). Beijing also highlighted violence against women as a barrier to health; subsequently, India enacted the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 (though it notably excludes forced sex in marriage from the definition of sexual abuse due to the marital rape exemption). Internationally, Beijing plus five (2000) and Beijing plus twenty (2015) reviews have repeatedly pointed out areas where countries, including India, lag – such as political representation of women (linked to prioritization of health agendas) and persistent patriarchal norms affecting SRHR (e.g., son preference leading to sex-selective abortion). While not legally binding, the Beijing Platform’s moral authority has been used by Indian NGOs to advocate for stronger laws on domestic violence, sexual harassment (resulting in the 2013 law), and trafficking – all of which have indirect positive effects on SRHR by creating safer environments for women.

• Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD), 2006: India ratified the CRPD in 2007, committing to ensure that persons with disabilities enjoy all human rights equally. This includes rights relevant to SRHR – such as the right to retain fertility, to access reproductive health services, and to marry and found a family on an equal basis with others (Article 23). The CRPD requires informed consent in healthcare, which is pertinent in cases where women with psychosocial or intellectual disabilities have been subject to forced sterilizations or abortions globally. In India, the 2018 Mental Healthcare Act and 1999 National Trust Act take steps towards supported decision-making, but there have been instances of courts or families making reproductive decisions on behalf of disabled women (the Suchita Srivastava case, cited earlier, dealt with this tension). The CRPD framework pushes India to ensure accessibility of SRH information (e.g., in braille or sign language), train health workers on disability inclusion, and remove any laws that discriminate (for example, until recently some personal laws allowed annulment of marriage on grounds of impotence or mental illness, which stigmatized the disabled). While compliance is nascent, disability rights groups in India are increasingly vocal that inclusive SRHR is a right – such as demanding that gynecological clinics be physically accessible and that information on menstrual hygiene be tailored for girls with disabilities.

• Universal Periodic Review (UPR) of the UN Human Rights Council: The UPR is not a treaty but a peer-review mechanism where UN member states review each other’s human rights records every few years. India has undergone four UPR cycles (2008, 2012, 2017, and 2022). SRHR issues have featured prominently in recommendations from other countries. For example, in the 2017 UPR, at least 10 countries urged India to criminalize marital rape and strengthen women’s rights protection. There were also multiple recommendations to repeal Section 377 (before 2018) and to combat all forms of violence against women. In the 2022 UPR (Fourth cycle), countries recommended improving access to comprehensive sexuality education and safe abortion, and again raised the marital rape issue. India’s typical response has been mixed: it “accepted” general recommendations about protecting women from violence, but “noted” (did not accept) the specific calls to criminalize marital rape or to fully recognize LGBTQ rights in law. The Indian delegation often argues that cultural and legal complexities prevent immediate action on these fronts. Nonetheless, the UPR shines a spotlight on these gaps and creates diplomatic pressure. In 2023, when India’s UPR outcome was adopted, some states expressed regret that India hadn’t accepted the marital rape recommendation and urged it to reconsider. UPR also welcomed positive steps – for instance, by 2022 India could report the Supreme Court’s reading down of Section 377 as a success in implementing a past recommendation. The UPR process, therefore, serves as an international accountability tool, reinforcing that SRHR issues like gender-based violence, discrimination, and access to health are human rights concerns that India must address.

• Other Relevant Treaties and Goals: In addition to the above, India is party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which enshrines the rights to life, liberty, privacy, and non-discrimination – all of which underpin aspects of SRHR. The UN Human Rights Committee (which monitors ICCPR) has, in general, interpreted the right to life to include a duty to address maternal mortality and unsafe abortion (as threats to life), and the right to privacy to include personal autonomy in reproductive decisions (this was cited, for example, in the context of overturning Section 377, where the Indian Supreme Court referenced ICCPR norms). India has also signed (but not ratified) the Convention Against Torture (CAT) – relevant because denial of post-abortion care or forced gynecological exams, for instance, can be argued as cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment. Furthermore, India has committed to the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development, where SDG 3.7 and 5.6 specifically target universal access to reproductive healthcare and rights. These global goals are important benchmarks: by 2030, India is expected to ensure universal access to contraception, maternal care, and end unmet need for family planning, as well as ensure that national policies uphold reproductive rights as per ICPD and Beijing agreements. Progress (or lack thereof) on these targets is tracked by UN agencies (e.g., UNFPA reports on contraceptive prevalence and unmet need; WHO tracks maternal mortality ratios). India’s success in meeting SDG targets will reflect its adherence to its international SRHR commitments.

Enforcement and Accountability: India’s Compliance and Challenges

Having formal commitments is one thing; implementing them is another. International bodies have repeatedly evaluated India’s performance on SRHR and identified both achievements and shortcomings. Here we examine a few key areas of critique and progress, as highlighted by treaty monitoring committees and rights organizations:

• Maternal Health and Safe Abortion: The CEDAW Committee’s 2014 Concluding Observations on India were frank in noting serious gaps in ensuring safe motherhood. It expressed concern at the “persistently high rate of maternal mortality in some states, along with high rates of death resulting from unsafe abortion and lack of access to safe abortion”. The Committee noted disparities between urban and rural areas – urban women generally have better access to skilled birth attendants and emergency obstetric care, whereas rural women (especially in parts of northern India) suffer from inadequate healthcare infrastructure. It also observed the limited availability of modern contraceptive methods in India – a polite way of critiquing the heavy reliance on sterilization and the unmet need for spacing methods. In response, CEDAW urged India to “provide women with access to high-quality and safe abortion services” and to “increase access to and use of effective and affordable methods of contraception”. Essentially, the UN experts were pressing India to fulfill its obligations under Article 12 of CEDAW (right to healthcare) by improving reproductive health services. Since then, India has made some incremental progress: the national maternal mortality ratio has continued to decline (down to 97 per 100,000 live births by 2018, though with significant state-wise variation), and the 2021 MTP amendment slightly expanded abortion access. However, unsafe abortions still account for an estimated 8% of maternal deaths in India, indicating that many women, especially young and unmarried women, do not have adequate access to safe procedures. The government’s own data (NFHS-5) show that only ~47.8% of pregnancies are planned, pointing to gaps in contraception reach. UN agencies like WHO and UNFPA are providing technical support to help India address these issues (e.g., training midwives, promoting medical abortion pills, and rolling out new contraceptive choices like injectables), but the pace of change is a concern. The CEDAW Committee’s recommendations serve as a roadmap: they have called for ensuring quality of care (not just reducing mortality, but treating women with dignity, providing informed consent, etc.) and bridging rural-urban divides. For instance, after a high-profile tragedy in 2014 where several women died at a sterilization camp in Chhattisgarh, international and domestic pressure mounted to ensure such population control-driven incidents are not repeated. This has led to India adopting “Clinical Guidelines for Sterilization” and better oversight, showing some responsiveness to the critiques.

• Child Marriage and Adolescent Rights: Both CEDAW and CRC Committees have repeatedly flagged child marriage in India as a severe violation of girls’ rights. In 2014, CEDAW noted with concern that despite the 2006 law, early and forced marriages were still prevalent and often went unpunished. It highlighted that the coexistence of personal laws allows communities to set their own marriage age, sometimes lower than the statutory 18 for girls, and this plural legal system undermines enforcement. The Committee urged India to harmonize its laws to ensure no religious or customary law can justify child marriage, and to prosecute offenders (including families and officiants) who facilitate underage marriages. The Committee also linked child marriage to high dropout rates for girls, early pregnancies, and health complications, echoing concerns the CRC Committee had raised. In response, India has taken some steps: it launched programs like Beti Bachao, Beti Padhao (Save the Daughter, Educate the Daughter) aimed partly at delaying marriage by keeping girls in school, and some states announced cash incentive schemes for girls who reach 18 unmarried. The issue received renewed attention with a 2021 proposal (not yet enacted) to raise the minimum marriage age for women to 21. However, legal reforms have stalled amid debate, and child marriage, while declining, remains high (around 23% of women aged 20–24 were married before 18 as per NFHS-5). Treaty bodies remain skeptical of India’s enforcement – indeed, CEDAW in 2014 essentially told India that passing a law isn’t enough; it must “effectively investigate, prosecute and punish” those responsible for child marriages. Compliance here is mixed: there have been more prosecutions in recent years (often tied to campaigns against trafficking or specific drives by state governments), but social norms in some communities continue to accept child marriage, making full eradication a distant goal. This is an area where India’s international commitments (CEDAW, CRC, SDG 5.3 on ending child marriage) clearly demand stronger action, and reviews will continue to push India on this front.

• Violence Against Women and Marital Rape: India’s obligations under CEDAW (Article 16 and General Recommendation 19) include protecting women from gender-based violence in all spheres, including within marriage. One of the most glaring incompatibilities between Indian law and these obligations is the marital rape exception. The Indian Penal Code’s exception to the rape law – which effectively permits a husband to have non-consensual sex with his wife (provided she’s above 15, now 18 years old) – has been a focus of international criticism. In the 2017 UPR, numerous countries recommended India criminalize marital rape, but India’s government rejected these recommendations. India argued that marital rape, as a concept, cannot be applied mechanically to the Indian context due to factors like illiteracy and the “sanctity of marriage”. The CEDAW Committee, however, explicitly urged India to “ensure that marital rape is defined as a criminal offense” by removing the exception from its rape law. The Committee’s stance is that not criminalizing marital rape violates women’s rights to bodily autonomy and equality, and it allows impunity for sexual violence in the home. To date, India has not amended the IPC on this point, and the matter is sub judice in courts (several petitions are pending in the Supreme Court as of 2025 after split opinions in high courts). This is a clear instance where India’s compliance is lagging. While the 2013 Criminal Law Amendments strengthened laws on sexual violence (in response to the Nirbhaya case) and even acknowledged that marriage is not a defense for other forms of violence (the domestic violence law covers sexual abuse conceptually), the de facto immunity for rape within marriage remains. The Indian government’s reluctance to act on this has been met with disappointment internationally – as noted, even during the adoption of India’s UPR outcome in 2023, other nations and NGOs expressed regret on this point. It can be anticipated that until this law is changed, India will continue to face criticism in every international forum reviewing its human rights record. On a positive note, the judiciary’s evolving language (e.g., the 2022 Supreme Court judgment recognizing marital rape in context of abortion rights) shows internal progress, likely influenced by the normative framework CEDAW provides.

• LGBTQ+ Rights and Non-Discrimination: Under international human rights standards (ICCPR, and affirmed by bodies like the Human Rights Council), all persons are entitled to equal rights regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity. CEDAW itself has been interpreted to protect lesbian, bisexual, and transgender women from discrimination (though it’s not explicit in the text). For years, India was out of step with these standards by criminalizing same-sex relations. The Human Rights Committee had criticized such laws as violating privacy and equality, and as mentioned, India was pressed in UPR 2012 and 2017 to repeal Section 377. The Supreme Court’s decriminalization in 2018 significantly improved India’s compliance with international norms on sexual rights. It sent a message aligned with the Yogyakarta Principles that adults have the right to consensual sexual relations without state interference. However, beyond decriminalization, true equality demands anti-discrimination laws covering sexual orientation and gender identity. Countries in UPR and committees like CESCR have suggested India enact comprehensive non-discrimination legislation that would, for instance, protect LGBTQ individuals in healthcare, employment, and education. India has yet to do so (there is no national law that expressly forbids discrimination on these grounds). Transgender rights have seen some legal recognition (Trans Act 2019), but issues remain with its implementation and with rights of intersex persons (e.g., no clear prohibition yet on non-consensual intersex surgeries, something recommended by WHO and some human rights bodies). In summary, India has partially met its international obligations by aligning its laws with the privacy and dignity rights of LGBTQ people, but there’s a distance to go in ensuring full enjoyment of SRHR for these communities – such as access to transition-related healthcare, or legal recognition of same-sex partnerships (the latter is currently under deliberation by the Supreme Court). The international trend is moving towards broader understanding of SRHR that includes sexual orientation/gender identity, and India will likely face continued external encouragement to advance in this direction.

• Access to Information and Education: Both CEDAW and CRC emphasize the importance of information and education in enabling SRHR (CEDAW Article 10 and 16 require access to education and information on health and family planning; CRC Article 24 specifically mentions family planning education). International reviews have noted that India does not yet ensure comprehensive sexuality education (CSE) for all students. A UNESCO study found large gaps in CSE implementation across Indian states, often due to conservative pushback. The CRC Committee has recommended that India strengthen adolescent sex education to curb teen pregnancies and HIV spread. Meanwhile, CEDAW has linked lack of sexual health information to issues like unsafe abortion and early marriage. In the 2022 UPR, some countries recommended India improve sexuality education and public awareness on SRHR, which India accepted in principle by saying it will continue efforts on health awareness. The test of compliance will be whether contentious topics (contraception, consent, gender equality in relationships) are taught in schools without censorship. As of now, many Indian adolescents rely on patchy sources for such information, and social stigma often limits open discussion. The right to information is also linked to abortion laws – India’s requirement for physicians’ approval and the lack of awareness about legal rights means many women simply do not know they can legally obtain an abortion in the first trimester. Human Rights Watch and the Center for Reproductive Rights have urged India to spread awareness about the MTP Act and to train medical providers so they do not turn women away unjustly. These are areas where improvement has been slow, and international observers frequently encourage India to treat information dissemination as part of its human rights obligations (right to health and education).

In assessing India’s overall compliance with international SRHR commitments, a dual picture emerges. On one hand, India has endorsed all major global standards – it has ratified treaties like CEDAW and CRC, signed on to ICPD and SDGs, and often uses the language of rights in its own policy documents. The Supreme Court of India itself has cited international norms (for example, referring to CEDAW and ICCPR in judgments affirming women’s rights and privacy). There have been notable areas of progress that align with international expectations: decline in maternal mortality, improvements in family planning outreach (India’s total fertility rate is now around replacement level), legal victories for LGBT persons, etc., all of which reflect movement in the right direction. On the other hand, India still falls short on several core obligations. Persisting social practices (child marriage, dowry, son preference) and legal gaps (marital rape, inconsistent personal laws) continue to violate the spirit, if not letter, of the treaties India has accepted. Moreover, implementation remains a weak spot – passing a law or policy often has not translated into effective change on the ground, which treaty bodies routinely point out. For example, even though the PCPNDT Act is cited as fulfilling obligations to prevent sex selection, the skewed sex ratio shows the enforcement is lacking; similarly, the existence of the National Health Mission doesn’t automatically equal quality healthcare for all women.

Accountability mechanisms have been crucial in highlighting these gaps. The CEDAW Committee’s dialogues with India (in 2007 and 2014) and the resulting reports by NGOs (so-called “shadow reports”) have pressured the government to acknowledge issues like unsafe sterilization practices and the need to recognize marital rape. India’s own National Human Rights Commission often echoes UN recommendations, creating internal pressure. The UPR process has mobilized domestic advocates – for instance, ahead of each UPR, Indian NGOs make joint submissions (e.g., a coalition report on SRHR for UPR 2022) to flag concerns and lobby friendly foreign governments to raise specific recommendations. While India tends to be defensive in these forums, the international scrutiny does have impact. A case in point: after years of noting LGBT rights recommendations, India’s tone shifted post-2018, with the delegation in UPR 2022 proudly citing the decriminalization of homosexuality as a human rights advancement. One can surmise that similar shifts could happen on other issues as domestic and international pressures converge (for example, if the Supreme Court or Law Commission takes a progressive stance on marital rape, the government may eventually relent, especially as it becomes an outlier globally for not outlawing it).

In conclusion, international bodies and treaties play a pivotal role in guiding and judging India’s performance on SRHR. They provide the language and legitimacy for local activists to demand change (“India, you promised the world to do X, so why not do it at home?”). India, as the world’s largest democracy, often seeks to be seen as a responsible global actor and has generally expressed support for the aims of these treaties even if practice lags. The evolution of SRHR in India – from the early acceptance of family planning as a human right in 1968, to the embrace of women’s rights in the 1990s, to contemporary debates on consent and identity – shows an ongoing dynamic between global norms and local actions. Bridging the gap between the two remains the challenge and the opportunity ahead, with international commitments serving as both a mirror and a map for India’s journey toward realizing sexual and reproductive health and rights for all its citizens.

SRHR & The Constitution – Your Rights, My Body

Purpose: Decode the Indian Constitution to show how it already protects (or should protect) your sexual and reproductive rights—even if the system often pretends otherwise. This section maps key constitutional promises to SRHR, and exposes gaps between principle and practice.

What Counts as SRHR?

When we say Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights, what fits under that umbrella? At a minimum, it includes:

• Right to contraception – Access to birth control in all forms, free from coercion.

• Right to abortion – Safe, legal termination of pregnancy on demand (subject to reasonable regulations).

• Menstrual dignity – The right to manage menstruation with privacy, hygiene, and without stigma.

• Access to maternal healthcare – Quality care before, during, and after childbirth.

• Protection from forced sterilization – No one should be sterilized without full, informed consent.

• Choice in marriage, partner, and parenthood – The freedom to choose whether, when, and whom to marry or partner with, and whether to have children.

• Right to sexual autonomy (including for LGBTQIA+ people) – The freedom to have consensual sex, regardless of marital status or gender, without criminalisation or harassment.

These rights are derived from existing guarantees, even if not always explicitly named in law. For instance, the Supreme Court has affirmed that deciding whether or not to bear a child is at the core of one’s privacy and dignity12. It has upheld that adults have the right to choose their life partners freely34, and decriminalised consensual same-sex relations in 20183. Together, these build the case that SRHR isn’t some newfangled ask—it’s a logical extension of rights we already should have.

Constitutional Provisions for SRHR

The Indian Constitution doesn’t spell out “reproductive rights” word-for-word, but several Fundamental Rights and Directive Principles of State Policy (DPSPs) lay the groundwork for protecting SRHR. Here’s how some key provisions translate in an SRHR context:

Why do DPSPs matter? While Fundamental Rights (like Articles 14, 15, 19, 21) are justiciable (enforceable in court), Directive Principles aren’t directly enforceable. But DPSPs are supposed to guide government policy. For instance, Article 47’s emphasis on public health means laws and schemes should strive to provide reproductive healthcare to all. In practice, of course, the gap between constitutional promise and lived reality is Grand Canyon wide.

Case Law That Shaped SRHR

Over the years, Indian courts have built a patchwork of judgments advancing (and sometimes restricting) SRHR. Here are a few landmark cases that form the legal backbone of reproductive rights:

These cases show a trajectory: the judiciary moving (slowly, at times grudgingly) toward recognizing reproductive autonomy as integral to fundamental rights. They provide powerful language you can invoke in court or policy debates. But relying on judges to read between the constitutional lines is a precarious way to guarantee rights—hence the need to codify these principles more explicitly (we’ll get to that in the finale).

Gaps & Grey Zones

Despite the above, glaring gaps persist in India’s constitutional landscape regarding SRHR:

• No Explicit “Reproductive Rights” – The Constitution doesn’t plainly spell out bodily autonomy or reproductive freedom. Article 21 has had to carry the load, being interpreted to cover everything from privacy to pollution. This overburdening means reproductive rights lack a dedicated, unambiguous anchor in the text.

• Directive Principles Are Unenforceable – Articles like 39 and 47 urge the state to provide health and nutrition, but since they aren’t enforceable in court, governments can (and do) shrug them off. If the state fails to invest in maternal healthcare or family planning services, you can’t directly sue them for breaching a DPSP.

• Social Barriers to Equality – Article 14 and 15 promise equality, but in reality, access to SRHR services isn’t equal. Unmarried women, LGBTQ+ individuals, sex workers, and persons with disabilities face stigma or outright denial. For example, until the 2022 judgment, unmarried women were often turned away from legal abortion services due to narrow readings of the law. Similarly, queer and trans persons struggle to find non-judgmental healthcare.

• Marital Bias – Laws and policies frequently presume a heteronormative, married context for sexual activity. Marital rape is still not a crime in India’s penal code, and concepts like a wife’s “implied consent” to sex linger in legal doctrine, undermining sexual autonomy. The assumption that only married couples are “legitimate” recipients of contraception or fertility services is slowly being dismantled (again, see 2022 abortion ruling), but remnants remain in various guidelines.

• Consent and Agency Issues – From forced sterilizations of women in government camps to families coercing individuals with uteruses into (or out of) abortions, consent is often a casualty. Lack of education and empowerment means many, especially young or vulnerable people, don’t fully exercise choice even where law ostensibly allows it.

Using This Toolkit

When can this constitutional toolkit come in handy?

• Drafting PILs or Legal Petitions: If you’re a lawyer or activist building a case (say, challenging a policy that restricts contraceptive access), cite Article 21 and the above judgments to frame SRHR as fundamental rights. Use the equality provisions to highlight discriminatory impacts (e.g., a rule that only married women can access a service violates Article 14/15).

• Advocating Policy Change: Talking to lawmakers or bureaucrats? Arm yourself with constitutional principles. For instance, push for a National Reproductive Health Act by pointing out that India is failing its Article 47 duty to improve public health without such legislation. Quote the DPSPs as the moral compass for drafting better laws.

• Awareness & Education Campaigns: Simplify and spread this information in workshops, college lectures, or social media. Most people (including officials) don’t realize that things like the right to abortion or contraception have any constitutional backing. This toolkit helps bridge that knowledge gap.

• Daily Life Debates: The next time someone claims “reproductive rights aren’t in the Constitution,” you can politely (or not-so-politely) educate them. Mention how the Supreme Court itself linked reproductive choice with fundamental rights over a decade ago. Sometimes just knowing that the law is on your side can shift a conversation.

Having set the constitutional stage, let’s move to specific rights “anatomy” – breaking down how each right (or component of SRHR) has evolved in law and policy, where things stand, and how to navigate the system.

Anatomy of a Right: Abortion in India

Purpose: To break down the law on abortion in India – the promises, the loopholes, and the lived reality. Abortion is one of the most contested SRHR components, so understanding its legal evolution and current framework is key to using that right (or fighting for its expansion).

Legal Backbone

The law governing abortion in India is a mix of penal provisions (dating back to the 19th century) and a somewhat progressive statute from the 1970s, recently updated:

• Indian Penal Code, 1860 (Sections 312–316): Under the IPC, inducing a miscarriage (abortion) was a criminal offense except to save the life of the pregnant woman6. These colonial-era provisions essentially made abortion illegal in most circumstances, treating it as equivalent to “causing miscarriage” with potential imprisonment. They still exist on paper, which means technically abortion is a crime unless it falls under an exception. This is where the next law comes in.

• Medical Termination of Pregnancy (MTP) Act, 1971 (amended in 2021): Enacted in 1971, the MTP Act created exceptions to the IPC ban, allowing certified medical professionals to provide abortions on certain grounds and within a time limit7. The original law permitted abortion up to 20 weeks of gestation for specific reasons (risk to the woman’s life, physical or mental health, fetal abnormalities, rape or contraceptive failure for married women). In 2021, a major amendment was passed: the upper limit was extended to 24 weeks for certain categories of women, and crucially the law’s language was updated from “married woman or her husband” to “any woman or her partner”5. This change was meant to acknowledge that unmarried women also have sex and might need abortions, a fact the law previously tiptoed around.

• MTP Rules and Regulations: Detailed rules (such as the 2003 Rules, updated in 2021) outline who qualifies for the 20–24 week abortions (e.g. survivors of sexual assault, minors, change in marital status, etc.) and set up mechanisms like Medical Boards to approve late abortions. While well-intended, these processes sometimes create bureaucratic hurdles – a panel of doctors essentially deciding if a woman “deserves” a late-term abortion can be intimidating and time-consuming.

• Judicial Precedents: Courts have often stepped in to allow abortions beyond legal limits in hard cases (like severe fetal anomalies diagnosed late, or minor rape survivors). The Suchita Srivastava case in 2009 asserted that the woman’s choice is paramount1. In numerous cases since, High Courts and the Supreme Court have granted exceptions, sometimes critiquing the law for being too restrictive. The 2022 X v. Principal Secretary, Health Dept case already mentioned is a watershed moment that forced the law’s interpretation to be broader5. We should also note that in 2017, the Supreme Court in Mrs. X v. Union of India allowed a 24-weeks pregnant rape survivor to abort, which was part of the pressure leading to the amendment. In essence, courts have been the safety valve, expanding access when the letter of law fell short.

Real-World Application

On paper, after the 2021 amendments and the 2022 judgment, abortion law in India is fairly liberal up to 24 weeks for a broad range of circumstances, and without time limit if necessary to save the woman’s life. In practice? It’s complicated.

• Married vs Unmarried: The law now says “any woman or her partner” can be the context for contraceptive failure, eliminating the marriage requirement. Yet, many unmarried women still face stigma and misinformation at clinics. Some doctors still unlawfully insist on parental consent for adult unmarried women or flat-out refuse services citing personal moral grounds. The 2022 judgment is recent; translating it into on-ground reality and awareness will take time.

• Doctor’s Authorization: The MTP framework is doctor-centric. Up to 20 weeks, one doctor’s approval is needed; beyond that (20–24 weeks), two doctors. This means the ultimate decision isn’t entirely the woman’s—if a doctor refuses on some pretext, the person is stuck. We’ve seen instances where doctors (especially in public hospitals) are hesitant to provide abortions even within the lawful period, due to personal beliefs or fear of scrutiny.

• Accessibility and Delays: Rural and smaller town areas often have few certified providers, especially for second-trimester abortions. The requirement of specialized training and facilities means many women travel to cities or secret clinics. The longer the travel and wait, the further the pregnancy progresses, sometimes tipping it over the legal limit and forcing women to seek court orders.

• Judicial Maze for Exceptions: If a pregnancy crosses the legal time limit (24 weeks) — say, a fetal anomaly detected at 30 weeks — women have to approach courts for permission. While courts usually grant it if there’s a grave risk or non-viability, it’s a traumatic race against time. Each such case is an individual ordeal, with no certainty of outcome or how fast the court moves. Some High Courts have denied late abortions for trivial reasons, showing the luck-of-the-draw element.

• Unsafe Abortions: Despite a liberal law, a large percentage of abortions in India are still done outside authorized facilities, often using over-the-counter pills without medical supervision. The stigma and lack of youth-friendly services push women to seek secrecy over safety. The irony is that abortion has been legal since 1971, yet fear of judgment drives many to forego the legal route. This results in complications and even maternal deaths, which defeats the law’s very purpose.

Toolkit for Abortion Rights

How can one navigate or leverage the system on abortion issues? Here are some tools and tips:

• Know the Law & Your Rights: Keep a copy or summary of the MTP Act and Rules handy. If a provider refuses an eligible abortion, you can point out the legal provisions (e.g., unmarried status is not a valid reason to refuse). Sometimes, asserting that you know your rights makes authorities more cautious about denying care.

• Healthcare Allies: Identify and keep a list of trusted hospitals and NGOs that provide counseling and services. Organizations like the Family Planning Association of India (FPAI), Pratigya Campaign, or MARAA (and other local reproductive rights networks) often have referral lists for safe providers. If one doctor turns you away, don’t give up—seek a second opinion at a different facility, ideally one known for a non-judgmental approach.

• Legal Recourse: If you’re past 24 weeks or unlawfully denied an abortion, consider moving the High Court immediately. In such cases, time is critical. Courts usually respond faster to such petitions. Your petition should include medical records and clearly state the grounds (health risk, fetal anomaly, etc.). Citing the X v. NCT of Delhi case5 and others can help bolster the argument that the court has the power to permit the abortion in the interest of the petitioner’s rights and well-being.

• Support Networks: Connect with feminist lawyers’ collectives or support groups. For instance, PLD (Partners for Law in Development) and HRLN (Human Rights Law Network) have been involved in reproductive rights litigation and can sometimes assist or guide on strategy.

• Document Violations: If you experience harassment or illegal demands (like a doctor demanding your husband’s consent, or a pharmacist refusing to sell contraceptive pills), document it. This can support future advocacy or even legal action. A detailed record of such incidents builds the case for systemic changes, like needing better provider training or policy directives.

Moving on from abortion, we zoom out to the flip side of reproductive choice: the right to prevent or not have a pregnancy in the first place. That’s where contraception, and the ugly history of coercion around it, comes in.

Anatomy of a Right: Contraception, Coercion & Consent

Purpose: To lay out where the Indian state enables reproductive choice—and where it still forces hands when it comes to contraception. This part examines how access to birth control is both a right and, paradoxically, sometimes a tool of state pressure (think population control policies). We’ll navigate the legal landscape of consent around contraception, and highlight the very gendered way India approaches family planning.

Legal Framework

Unlike abortion, contraception per se doesn’t have a dedicated comprehensive law. Instead, we infer rights and responsibilities from general laws and policies:

• Fundamental Right to Personal Liberty (Art. 21): Courts have interpreted the right to life to include the right to health. Access to contraceptive information and services falls under the right to health and bodily autonomy. For instance, denying an adult woman a tubectomy (sterilization) or access to birth control could be seen as violating her personal liberty and right to decide if and when to bear children. In the landmark Puttaswamy privacy judgment, decisional autonomy in family planning was upheld2. There’s also an implied right to not procreate — the choice to use contraception or even opt for sterilization is part of one’s bodily autonomy.

• No Specific Contraception Law: There’s no single statute that says “every individual has the right to contraception.” However, the National Population Policy (2000) and public health programs endorse voluntary and informed choice. India is also party to international agreements (like the ICPD Programme of Action 1994) that recognize reproductive choice. These commitments, while not directly enforceable, shape policy language.

• Family Planning Program & Guidelines: India’s government family planning program (in place since 1952) provides free contraceptives — condoms, oral pills, IUDs, and surgical methods — through the public health system. Guidelines insist family planning is voluntary. In theory, informed consent is required for procedures like sterilization (there’s even a standard consent form and mandated counseling). The reality often deviates, which we’ll get to.

• Sterilization as Population Control: The closest thing to “law” that impacted contraception are the court cases and guidelines following controversial population control drives. The Supreme Court in 2016 (Devika Biswas case) ordered an end to dreaded mass sterilization camps that had been rife with unsafe, non-consensual operations8. Earlier, in the 1970s Emergency era, courts shockingly did not come to the rescue—population control abuses went largely unchecked by law. Today, coercive targets are officially banned, but subtle pressure persists. For example, some states had (or still have) dubious incentives: paying health workers per sterilization, or setting unofficial targets for districts.

Case Studies and Realities

Let’s look at how contraception and sterilization play out on the ground, especially for women from marginalized communities, within marriages, and for young people:

• Sterilization Camps & Marginalized Women: For decades, the Indian state’s go-to birth control solution has been female sterilization. Over 75% of contraceptive use in India is female sterilization, whereas male sterilization (vasectomy) is under 1%9. Why? Because it’s easier for the system to pressure poor women than men, given patriarchal norms. There have been horror stories: women in rural areas, particularly Dalit and Adivasi women, herded into make-shift camps, operated on en masse in unsanitary conditions, sometimes with fatal outcomes8. Consent in these camps was often just a thumbprint on a form the women couldn’t read, in exchange for a small cash incentive. The Devika Biswas PIL exposed how dozens of women were operated on in minutes with dirty equipment, leading the Supreme Court to finally ban such camps in 20168. While that’s a win on paper, reports suggest that in some places camps have simply been replaced by pushing women to go to public hospitals for mass “family planning day” surgeries – slightly more regulated, but the ethos remains population targets over individual choice.

• Marital Dynamics and Coercion: Within marriages, especially in conservative settings, it’s not uncommon for the husband or in-laws to dictate a woman’s contraceptive use. Legally, a married woman doesn’t need her husband’s permission to get a tubectomy or an abortion—but practically, many hospitals still ask for it. Conversely, some women are pressured into sterilization after having “enough” children (especially if they have a son). There’s also a justice issue here: wealthier women can afford long-term reversible methods or private care, while poorer women often get the permanent solution (sterilization) because it’s what the public system pushes. The law is mostly silent on these nuances, treating consent as an individual matter, but on the ground it’s often a family or community decision.

• Adolescents’ Access: Teenagers and unmarried young adults face a double whammy. On one hand, they have the right to access condoms or pills—there’s no law saying you must be a certain age to buy condoms or contraceptives. On the other hand, the law (through statutes like the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act) criminalizes all sexual activity under 18, creating a fear factor. A 16-year-old girl showing up at a clinic asking for birth control might be met with alarm, moral policing, or even a call to her parents. Legally, doctors are not required to report consensual sexual activity if someone seeks contraception, but many err on the side of caution or prejudice. As a result, adolescent sexual health is a shadow realm: needs exist, but services are few. Some progressive state policies talk about adolescent friendly health clinics, but implementation is sporadic. Parental consent is not legally mandatory for contraception (unlike for abortion where it is required under 18), yet practically, many young people feel it’s not accessible without involving elders.

• Information Gaps: Another angle is the right to information. Many people, especially in rural India, simply don’t get comprehensive info about contraceptive choices. Government health workers (ASHAs) are tasked with spreading awareness, but they too often focus on women and on permanent methods. A lack of sexuality education in schools means young folks grow up with myths and shame around contraception. Article 19(1)(a)’s freedom of information aspect is relevant here — censorship or crackdowns on sexual health content (like the fiasco when certain websites or ads about condoms were targeted for being “vulgar”) directly impede SRHR. Fortunately, the courts have struck down broad bans on such content in the name of free speech, but it remains a tug-of-war.

Toolkit for Contraceptive Rights & Consent

Empowering people to claim contraceptive rights involves education, vigilance, and sometimes legal intervention:

• RTI for Accountability: Use the Right to Information (RTI) Act as a tool. You can file RTIs to local health departments for data on sterilization procedures, deaths or complications, and whether guidelines (like informed consent and age of youngest women sterilized) are being followed. Activists have used RTI to reveal hospitals doing surgeries on women below the legally mandated age or with more than the allowed number of operations per day (indicating assembly-line operations). Exposing these via RTI can build pressure for accountability.

• Know Your Options (and Rights in Healthcare): Spread the word about the full range of contraceptives available for free at government facilities: condoms, oral pills, emergency pills, IUDs, injectables (recently introduced in public health system), and sterilization. Also make sure people know that no one can be legally forced to accept any method. If a health worker or authority threatens or coerces (e.g., “we won’t give you maternity benefits unless you agree to sterilization after this baby”), that can be challenged as a violation of fundamental rights.

• Consent Forms and Guidelines: The government has manuals for healthcare providers that emphasize informed consent, especially for sterilization. For example, the standard consent form for sterilization (available in local languages) clearly says the person is undergoing it voluntarily and was informed of alternatives. If you or someone you know is being pushed into a procedure, insist on seeing these guidelines. Sometimes just the bluff that you’re aware of the Supreme Court directives and will complain if they violate protocol is enough to make officials more cautious.

• Community and Legal Support: If coercion is happening on a larger scale (say, a district administration unofficially pressuring all ASHAs to meet sterilization targets), collective action helps. Local women’s rights NGOs or legal aid cells can write representation to authorities or even file a PIL citing Article 21 and past cases like Devika Biswas8. Media exposure also works—nobody likes a headline about “Illegal Sterilization Targets in 2025”.

• For Young People: Push for and utilize Adolescent Friendly Health Clinics (AFHCs) which are supposed to exist in many public hospitals. They offer counseling and services to youth without judgment. If staff are uncooperative, again, a complaint can be made. On campuses or youth networks, share information about confidential counseling services (some NGOs run helplines where youth can ask questions about contraception anonymously). There’s power in peer education too—initiatives led by young people to raise awareness about safe sex and contraception can slowly chip away at the taboo.

From controlling fertility to outsourcing it: next we look at surrogacy, where the state’s moral stance has led to a restrictive law. Surrogacy sits at the crossroads of reproductive choice and ethics, and India’s recent approach has been to severely curb it in the name of protecting women.

Anatomy of a Right: Surrogacy & The Strange Morality of the State

Purpose: Shine a light on how the Indian state has transformed surrogacy from a medical option into a moral battleground. Surrogacy is about the right to family formation and bodily autonomy for all parties involved (intended parents and surrogate mothers), yet the law often reflects discomfort with women’s bodily autonomy when money and morality are in the mix. This section unpacks the new surrogacy regulations, the ethical debates, and where they leave us.

Legal Landscape

After years of being a global hub for commercial surrogacy, India did a 180° by enacting the Surrogacy (Regulation) Act, 202110. Key features of the current law:

• Altruistic Surrogacy Only: The Act permits only “altruistic” surrogacy – meaning the surrogate cannot be paid beyond basic medical expenses and insurance. Any form of direct or indirect compensation (advertised as “renting a womb”) is now illegal. The idea is to prevent exploitation of poor women, but critics argue it veers into paternalism – the state deciding that women can’t possibly consent to paid surrogacy without being exploited.

• Who Can Be a Surrogate: Surrogates must be married women (who have a child of their own) between 25-35 years old, and can act as a surrogate only once. They also must be a “close relative” of the intending couple. This severely limits the pool. Essentially, the law expects a woman to carry someone else’s baby only out of familial love, not for money. The “close relative” clause is particularly odd – not only does it intrude on privacy by forcing family involvement, it’s impractical for people who may not have a relative willing or able to do it.

• Who Can Use Surrogacy: Only infertile married couples (heterosexual) who have been married for at least 5 years and have no children are eligible. There are some exceptions for widows or divorced women to become a mother via surrogacy, but single men are not allowed, and LGBTQ+ individuals/couples are outright barred under this law. In short, the law reflects a very traditional idea of family – one man, one woman, married, using surrogacy only as a last resort.

• Process and Oversight: Intended parents need a medical certificate of infertility and have to get an eligibility certificate from authorities. There are national and state surrogacy boards to oversee implementation. Clinics need registration. While regulation was needed (to curb rampant middlemen and unethical clinics), the bureaucratic hurdles now are significant. Also, the surrogate must get a certificate stating she has consented and isn’t being coerced, and there’s a requirement that the agreement be altruistic. But how does one truly verify “no coercion” when money is off the table yet emotional pressure can still exist? The law doesn’t have good answers; it just criminalizes the monetary aspect and hopes that solves exploitation.

• Penal Provisions: Commercial surrogacy (paying or advertising for surrogacy) can land you in jail (up to 5 years) and fines. Even doctors or clinics that facilitate commercial deals are punishable. This has effectively driven the practice underground or abroad (wealthy Indians now simply go to places like Georgia or Russia for surrogacy). Ironically, this leaves behind those who can’t afford such trips – they just lose out entirely because domestic surrogacy got so restricted.

Ethical Tensions

The surrogacy debate in India has highlighted some deep ethical and philosophical divides:

• Bodily Autonomy vs. Protection: One side argues that a woman should have autonomy to use her body – if she chooses to be a surrogate for pay, that’s her right (akin to any labor). The other side (which the law echoes) says surrogacy-for-pay is inherently exploitative, as poor women might be driven by economic desperation, so a blanket ban is needed. It’s a bit like debates on sex work: do you protect by prohibition, or empower through regulation? India chose prohibition for surrogacy.

• Who “Owns” the Womb and the Child?: Surrogacy challenges traditional notions of motherhood. Is the woman who gives birth the mother, or the one whose egg it was (if different), or the one who raises the child? The law tries to simplify this: the birth mother (surrogate) must relinquish all parental rights, and the intending parents are legally recognized. However, by allowing only altruistic surrogacy by a close relative, the law assumes a sort of collective family ownership of the reproductive process – it should happen only within the safe, moral confines of kinship. It’s as if the state is saying: “We’re okay with surrogacy as an extension of family helping family, but not as a commercial transaction or independent decision.”

• Moralism in Legislation: The Surrogacy Act drips with a certain moral tone – terms like “noble deed” and “selfless service” were used in parliamentary debates. The assumption is that a “good” woman would only be a surrogate out of kindness, not for gain. This arguably devalues reproductive labor. If a woman sacrifices her body, health, time, and emotional investment for someone else’s baby, is it really more ethical that she do it for free? Some would say the ban on compensation is a way to keep women in a traditional virtuous role, rather than acknowledging surrogacy as work deserving pay.

• Exclusion of LGBTQ+ and Single Parents: By excluding anyone who isn’t a straight married couple, the law imposes a narrow idea of who is “worthy” of parenthood. This raises constitutional questions about equality (Article 14) and the right to family life. For example, a single woman can adopt a child under Indian law, but the same single woman cannot commission a surrogate to have her biological child – a somewhat arbitrary distinction. Similarly, gay or trans couples (even if married or partnered abroad) are shut out entirely, reflecting the still-prevailing conservatism (and the lack of legal recognition of same-sex marriage in India).

• Economic Coercion vs. Informed Choice: The core justification for the ban on commercial surrogacy is to prevent poor women from being exploited by rich clients and profit-seeking agents. There were indeed cases of middlemen taking advantage and surrogates not being fully informed or cared for. However, the question remains: could we have addressed that through stricter regulation and better rights for surrogates without banning payment? By banning it, we haven’t removed economic need; we’ve just removed one way of addressing it, potentially forcing women to take on worse jobs or still do surrogacy but illegally with even less protection. It’s the classic debate of prohibition vs regulation. The ethical high ground of “we don’t want women’s bodies commodified” has practical downsides — primarily, loss of agency and income for women who might have willingly chosen surrogacy as work.

Toolkit for Surrogacy Rights & Reforms

If you or your organization is grappling with surrogacy – whether as intended parents, as a woman considering being a surrogate, or as an advocate – here are some tools and pointers:

• Know the Timeline (for Advocacy): Understand how we got here. India first allowed surrogacy through ICMR guidelines around 2002 (commercial surrogacy was de facto allowed with clinics booming by mid-2000s). Scandals and ethical concerns led to a draft bill in 2016, which was very restrictive. After years of debate and a revised bill, the law passed in 2021. Having this timeline handy helps counter arguments; e.g., you can point out “we had nearly 15 years of legal commercial surrogacy that could have been improved by regulation, but instead of fixing those issues, the state chose an outright ban.” This historical perspective can inform court challenges too, by showing that less intrusive measures were possible.

• Parliamentary Debate Analysis: Reading the parliamentary committee reports and debate transcripts (Rajya Sabha and Lok Sabha debates on the Surrogacy Bill in 2019-2020) is enlightening. They reveal the mindset of lawmakers. For instance, some MPs raised the concern that the law was too narrow and moralistic, but the majority view prevailed that surrogacy needed to be curbed. Citing these debates in articles or PILs can show that the exclusions (singles, LGBTQ) were quite deliberate. If you’re making a constitutional challenge (say a single man or a gay couple challenging the ban as discriminatory), you’d want to demonstrate that the law’s classification fails a reasonable test and is rooted in prejudice.

• Surrogate Mothers’ Rights Checklist: If surrogacy is undertaken (altruistically under the current law), ensure all rights are protected in the legal agreement: the surrogate’s right to full informed consent, the right to consistent medical care and insurance coverage, the right to abort if medically necessary or if she chooses (the law actually requires the surrogate’s consent for abortion, which is a good provision), and post-partum care. In reality, since no money is changing hands, one might think “what leverage does a surrogate have?” – the leverage is mainly legal: if any party deviates from the conditions (e.g., if the intending parents abandon the child or refuse to pay medical bills), the law provides for penalties. Surrogates should be counseled about their legal protections, however minimal, and have independent legal advice if possible (though the law doesn’t mandate providing her a lawyer, which perhaps it should).

• Keeping an Eye on Implementation: The Act mandated setting up boards and registration systems. Activists and journalists should track: Have the National and State Surrogacy Boards been constituted and are they functioning? Are there any licensed surrogacy clinics yet? If the system isn’t even operational, that’s a ground to question the law’s effectiveness. Also track if there’s a rise in **ART (Assisted Reproductive Technology) clinics offering “ivf plus overseas surrogacy packages” – an indicator that domestic couples are just going abroad, which many are. This evidence helps in arguing that the ban is simply displacing the problem rather than solving it.

• Push for Amendments: The fight isn’t over. Organizations and individuals campaigning for reproductive rights are pushing to amend the law to be more inclusive and less moralistic. For example, petitions to include single persons and LGBTQ persons in the ambit, or to allow compensated surrogacy under strict oversight, are ideas on the table. If you’re part of this effort, gather data – such as testimonies of people who were hurt by the ban (e.g., a couple who can’t find an altruistic surrogate and can’t afford overseas options), or women who would willingly be surrogates for compensation. Humanizing the issue is key to countering the “moral panic” narrative.

Finally, having toured through what is (and isn’t) in the law, we arrive at what should be. It’s time to imagine and demand a bolder framework of rights that fills the gaps the Constitution and laws currently leave. Consider this a vision for the future.

What the Law Doesn’t Say (But Should): A Bill of Reproductive Rights

The Indian Constitution, as interpreted, has been bent and stretched to cover many SRHR aspects—but it still dances around the full expression of these rights. In an ideal world, we’d have a codified charter of reproductive rights that explicitly guarantees what today we have to argue for case by case. Below is a manifesto of sorts, outlining rights that a progressive society should recognize, explicitly protect, and never compromise on. Think of it as a draft preamble if we were to amend the Constitution or enact a comprehensive Reproductive Rights Act:

• Right to Reproductive Autonomy: Every individual has the right to make decisions about their own reproductive functions without undue interference. This includes the right to choose whether or not to have children, the number and spacing of children, and the means to exercise these choices (contraception, abortion, assisted reproduction), with access to the necessary information and services.

• Right to Sexual Freedom and Pleasure: Consensual sexual activity is a matter of personal liberty. Every adult has the right to engage in sexual relations without the aim of reproduction, and to do so safely and without stigma. This implies a right to comprehensive sex education and to sexual health services (like STI prevention and treatment). Pleasure and intimacy should not be taboo in law—by affirming this right, we fight the idea that sex is only “legitimate” when procreative or within certain institutions.

• Right to Safe and Dignified Healthcare: All persons, regardless of gender, class, caste, marital status, or sexuality, have the right to access reproductive and sexual healthcare free from discrimination or judgment. This means services like abortion, contraception, prenatal and maternal care, fertility treatments, and gender-affirming care must be available, affordable, and provided in a respectful, confidential manner. No one should be denied or delayed care due to personal biases of providers or systemic shortcomings.

• Right to Bodily Integrity: Every individual has the right to bodily integrity – no person can be subjected to reproductive health procedures (like sterilization, contraception, abortion, or childbirth interventions) without their informed and voluntary consent. Conversely, everyone has the right to be free from gender-based violence, such as forced pregnancy, forced abortion, sterilization abuse, or denial of needed care. This principle would, for example, recognize marital rape as a violation of bodily integrity and autonomy.

• Right to Parenthood (and Non-Parenthood) on One’s Own Terms: If someone desires to have children, they have the right to do so through biological or adoptive means, and the state should not arbitrarily restrict this based on marital status, sexual orientation, or family structure. If someone does not desire children, that choice must equally be respected—no forced reproduction, no denying sterilization to someone who’s decided their family is complete. In essence, the law should facilitate the formation of families and the decision not to form a family, with equal fervor.

• Right to Information and Education: Knowledge is power. Individuals have the right to complete and accurate information about reproductive and sexual health, free from censorship. This means mandating scientifically accurate, age-appropriate sex education in schools, public awareness campaigns about family planning, and ensuring that myths (like “contraceptives cause infertility” or “abortion is always dangerous”) are actively dispelled by public health authorities. A citizen well-informed of their SRHR is better equipped to exercise them.

• Right to Equity in SRHR: The state must actively work to remove barriers and inequalities in SRHR. This entails recognizing and addressing how social determinants – gender, caste, class, disability, rural-urban divides – affect access. For example, ensuring that services are accessible in rural areas, language is not a barrier, disabled individuals have tailored services, and that men and LGBTQ+ persons are also educated and engaged in what is too often seen as “women’s issues.” It also means special protections for vulnerable groups: adolescent-friendly services, safe houses and support for those escaping coercive family or partner situations related to SRHR, etc.

This is not an exhaustive list, but a starting charter. The overarching theme is that reproductive rights are human rights, and they deserve explicit affirmation. Enshrining them in law or the Constitution would not magically solve all problems, but it would provide a stronger tool to hold the state accountable and to challenge regressive actions. It would shift the narrative from “permitting” or “charitably granting” these rights, to recognizing them as inherent and inalienable.

Sources

• Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights (SRHR) by World Health Organisation
• SEXUAL AND REPRODUCTIVE HEALTH AND RIGHTS: AN ESSENTIAL ELEMENT OF UNIVERSAL HEALTH COVERAGE. Background document for the Nairobi summit on ICPD25 – Accelerating the promise
• Sexual and Reproductive Health and Rights Indicators for the SDGs. Recommendations for inclusion in the Sustainable Development Goals and the post-2015 development process.
• Suchita Srivastava & Anr. v. Chandigarh Administration, (2009) 9 SCC 1. – The Supreme Court held that a woman’s right to make reproductive choices (to have or not have a child) is a part of her personal liberty under Article 21 of the Constitution.
• Justice K.S. Puttaswamy (Retd.) & Anr. v. Union of India, (2017) 10 SCC 1 (Right to Privacy case). – The Supreme Court affirmed privacy as a fundamental right. The judgment explicitly stated that a woman’s decision whether or not to bear a child is at the core of this privacy and individual autonomy.
• Navtej Singh Johar v. Union of India, (2018) 10 SCC 1. – The Supreme Court decriminalized consensual homosexual intercourse by reading down Section 377 of the IPC, affirming the rights to equality, dignity, and privacy of LGBTQ+ individuals. This case cemented sexual autonomy as a facet of fundamental rights.
• Shafin Jahan v. Asokan K.M. (Hadiya case), (2018) 16 SCC 368. – The Supreme Court upheld an adult woman’s right to marry a person of her choice, emphasizing that the right to choose one’s partner is a fundamental part of personal liberty under the Constitution. This underscores that the decision to form intimate partnerships (including marriage) lies with the individual, not the State or family.
• X v. Principal Secretary, Health and Family Welfare Department, Govt. of NCT of Delhi, 2022 SCC OnLine SC 1321. – Supreme Court of India (29 Sept 2022) decision extending the MTP Act protections to unmarried women up to 24 weeks and reading down Rule 3B to be inclusive. Also recognized marital rape within the ambit of “rape” for the MTP Rules.
• Indian Penal Code, 1860, Sections 312–316 – These sections criminalize causing a miscarriage (abortion) and related acts, except when done in good faith to save the pregnant woman’s life. They represent the old law that the MTP Act creates exceptions to. This has now been replaced by the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), 2023, Sections 88 to 92. [These sections under BNS retain much of the IPC's wording and intent but have been renumbered and modernized in language.]:

• The Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971 – Act No. 34 of 1971 (as amended by Act No. 8 of 2021). This law legalizes abortion under certain conditions. The 2021 amendments expanded access (e.g., raising the gestation limit for some cases to 24 weeks and including unmarried women).
• Devika Biswas v. Union of India (Supreme Court of India, 2016) – Public Interest Litigation highlighting gross negligence in sterilization camps (e.g., a single doctor performing dozens of tubectomies in a day under unhygienic conditions). The Supreme Court ordered an end to mass sterilization camps within three years and called for better oversight and compensation, noting that hundreds of women (mostly poor, rural, Dalit or Adivasi) had died due to botched surgeries between 2010–2013.
• National Family Health Survey-5 (2019–21) – National report indicates that about 38% of married women (aged 15–49) in India have undergone sterilization, whereas male sterilization (vasectomy) accounts for only around 0.3% of contraceptive use. This highlights the gender disparity in contraceptive methods and reliance on female sterilization. (NFHS-5 India Fact Sheet).
• Surrogacy (Regulation) Act, 2021, No. 47 of 2021 (in force from Jan 25, 2022). – The law governing surrogacy in India, banning commercial surrogacy and allowing only altruistic surrogacy for eligible married couples. It outlines conditions for surrogates and intending parents and prescribes penalties for violations.
• Yamin & Boulanger (2013). “MDG 5: Historical evolution of an international agenda.” Harvard School of Public Health – Working Paper.
• United Nations, Tehran Conference (1968): Proclamation of Teheran – affirmed family planning as a basic human right.
• Family planning in India: History of India’s family planning programme (Karve’s advocacy, 1952 launch, Emergency period).
• Pillai, G. (2024). “India’s Push-and-Pull on Reproductive Rights,” Verfassungsblog – describes the motivations behind India’s 1971 abortion law and the belated adoption of rights language post-ICPD.
• International Conference on Population and Development, 1994: ICPD Programme of Action – defined reproductive health and rights.
• Fourth World Conference on Women, Beijing 1995: Beijing Platform – affirmed women’s sexual and reproductive rights and need to eliminate coercion and violence.
• Times of India (2018). “SC decriminalises Section 377: A timeline of the case.” – Chronology of legal battle on Section 377 and reference to right to privacy ruling impacting LGBT rights.
• Human Rights Watch (2017). “India: Key UN Rights Recommendations Ignored.” – Summary of India’s 3rd UPR outcome, noting India’s refusal to accept recommendations on marital rape and Section 377.
• Center for Reproductive Rights (2014). “CEDAW Committee holds India accountable…” – Highlights from CEDAW Concluding Observations 2014 on India: child marriage, maternal mortality, contraception, abortion, marital rape.
• League of Women Voters (Orange Coast) – CEDAW Statement 2022: Emphasizes CEDAW’s protection of SRHR, including Article 16(e) on deciding number and spacing of children, and calls for access to safe abortion as a component of women’s right to health.
• Arunodaya Trust – Reproductive & Child Health Program: Outline of India’s adoption of Target-Free Approach (1996) and launch of RCH in response to ICPD recommendations.
• UNFPA – ICPD Programme of Action (1994)
• Reproductive Rights in Indian Courts
• Baby Manji Yamada vs. Union Of India
• 12 -yr-old rape survivor seeks HC nod to abort 25-week pregnancy
• SC asks Centre to look into ground situation on menstrual hygiene in schools
• SC asks Centre to frame policy on menstrual leave for women
• Devika Biswas vs. Union Of India
• Judgment of the Court in Plain English | Constitutionality of Section 377 IPC
• National Legal Services Authority (Nalsa) vs. Union Of India
• Delhi HC allows minor sexual assault survivor to terminate pregnancy
• Roe v. Wade 410 U.S. 113 (1973)
• High Court On Its Own Motion vs The State Of Maharashtra
• What a landmark ruling on abortion will mean for women in India
• Hallo Bi @ Halima vs The State Of Madhya Pradesh