For decades after Independence, India spoke eloquently about women’s empowerment but acted timidly. Gender equality was celebrated in speeches, referenced in policy documents, and showcased on paper—but rarely backed with sustained budgets, institutional urgency, or political competition. That inertia decisively broke after 2014. Especially, with the ban on Triple Talaq, which indeed remove gender inequality, of whatever name one may wish to call. And, in the last decade, women’s welfare, in fact, has moved from symbolic sympathy to measurable governance, transforming Indian states into active competitors in promoting gender equity.
This shift is not accidental. It is the result of a political economy where welfare delivery became outcome-driven, data-monitored, and electorally consequential. Today, women-centric governance is no longer an afterthought; it is a central axis of state policy.
India, of course, has produced formidable women leaders long before modern welfare economics—Ahalya Bai Holkar, Rani Lakshmibai, and countless others disproved the myth that leadership was alien to Indian women. Even Indira Gandhi, despite ascending power through political inheritance, proved herself a capable and resolute leader. But her era did not institutionalise gender empowerment across states. Welfare for women remained fragmented, episodic, and largely rhetoric-heavy.
That changed when governance began treating women not as passive beneficiaries but as economic agents.
One of the most striking developments has been the explosive growth of unconditional cash transfer (UCT) schemes for women. According to a recent PRS Legislative Research report, the number of states implementing largely unconditional cash transfers for women rose from just two in 2022–23 to twelve in 2025–26. Collectively, these states will spend ₹1.68 trillion on such schemes in the coming financial year—an unimaginable figure a decade ago.
Schemes like Madhya Pradesh’s Ladli Behna Yojana, Tamil Nadu’s Kalaignar Magalir Urimai Thogai Thittam, and Karnataka’s Gruha Lakshmi offer monthly assistance ranging between ₹1,000 and ₹1,500, directly credited to women’s bank accounts. The objective is clear: improve household bargaining power, ensure financial autonomy, and reduce vulnerability among women from economically weaker sections.
Crucially, this welfare revolution is no longer confined to one ideological camp. States such as Assam and West Bengal have increased allocations to women’s UCTs by 31 per cent and 15 per cent respectively, underscoring how gender empowerment has become a competitive governance benchmark rather than a partisan slogan.
Even Congress-ruled Telangana, often critical of the Centre, claims to have spent ₹61,194 crore on welfare schemes, including ₹9,888 crore for BCs, SCs, and STs—many of whom are women beneficiaries. This demonstrates that the national discourse has forced all political players to prioritise women-centric spending.
Critics warn—correctly—that such schemes strain state finances. Six of the twelve UCT-implementing states are projected to run revenue deficits in 2025–26. The RBI has also cautioned that rising subsidy expenditure could crowd out productive investment. Yet the PRS report offers a telling insight: when UCT spending is excluded, fiscal indicators of these states improve significantly. Karnataka, for instance, would move from a 0.6 per cent revenue deficit to a 0.3 per cent surplus, while Madhya Pradesh’s surplus would rise from 0.4 per cent to 1.1 per cent.
This suggests not fiscal irresponsibility, but political prioritisation.
Some states have recalibrated benefits—Maharashtra trimmed payouts under the CM Ladki Bahin Yojana, while Jharkhand enhanced payments under CM Maiyan Samman Yojana to ₹2,500 per month—reflecting adaptive governance rather than policy abandonment.
What distinguishes the last decade is not merely higher spending, but systemic intent: direct benefit transfers, Jan Dhan-linked accounts, digital verification, and outcome tracking have ensured that empowerment reaches women directly, not intermediaries.
Modern India’s liberalism is thus not defined by slogans, but by state competition, fiscal commitment, and delivery architecture. Women are no longer peripheral to development—they are its driving metric. For the first time, empowerment is not promised. It is funded, tracked, and contested—state by state.
