The real test of the Mines and Minerals (Development and Regulation) Amendment Act, 2026 will not be how much faster India can extract its mineral wealth, but whether, even as we dig deeper into the earth, we can prevent a deeper fault line from emerging between the Union and the States, writes Dr. Jayajit Dash

 

INDIA’S latest mining reform is being sold as a story about minerals. It is, in fact, a story about something much more valuable: who gets to decide how the wealth beneath a State’s soil is taxed, shared and ultimately governed.

The Mines and Minerals (Development and Regulation) Amendment Act, 2026 has been passed by Parliament with a stated objective that is difficult to quarrel with—uniformity, predictability and investment in a sector that feeds steel, cement, power, infrastructure, defence and the clean-energy economy. The government says nearly 90% of mining-sector revenue still accrues to States and that the States’ share reached 1.145 lakh crore in 2025-26. Since 2014, State mineral revenues have risen 354%, with more than 7 lakh crore accruing to States, including coal.

There is, therefore, a compelling economic argument for reform. But economics is only half the excavation. The deeper layer is constitutional federalism.

The flashpoint is new Section 9D. It restricts States from imposing taxes, cesses or other levies on mineral rights or mineral-bearing land except under conditions prescribed by the Centre. It also declares certain unpaid or unrecovered past levies invalid.

That provision becomes particularly consequential because it arrives barely two years after the Supreme Court’s historic 8:1 judgment in Mineral Area Development Authority v. Steel Authority of India. In July 2024, the nine-judge Constitution Bench held that States possess constitutional authority to tax mineral rights and mineral-bearing land, and clarified that royalty is not a tax. The Court subsequently allowed recovery of certain past dues from April 1, 2005, with payment staggered over 12 years and interest and penalty waived for the period before July 25, 2024.

Now Parliament has legislated into precisely that terrain.

This is where the debate must rise above party politics. The question is not whether Odisha, Jharkhand or any other mineral-rich State deserves revenue. Of course it does. Nor is the question whether mining taxation should become so unpredictable that investment becomes commercially irrational. It should not.

The real question is simpler and more uncomfortable: how much fiscal space should a State retain over a resource that lies within its territory but fuels the economic ambitions of the entire Union?

Consider Odisha. The government says the State operationalised 35 of its 79 auctioned mineral blocks and earned about 87,000 crore in auction premiums between 2020-21 and 2025-26. Since 2015, States collectively have received 2.32 lakh crore in royalty from 1,200 working mines and 96,000 crore in auction premiums from 100 auctioned mines.

These are not accounting footnotes. They are schools, roads, hospitals, livelihoods and political capital expressed in rupees.

But there is another side. India auctioned 723 major mineral blocks across 17 States after the 2015 reforms; 212 blocks were auctioned in FY2025-26 and 36 operationalised. Major mineral production value rose 26.8% that year, iron ore output touched a record 313 million tonnes and limestone 484 million tonnes. A fragmented or unpredictable tax regime can plainly undermine this momentum.

The government’s argument that excessive levies ultimately become a tax on consumers also deserves attention. Minerals are not consumed only by mining companies. They are embedded in bridges, homes, trucks, power plants and factories. A rupee added at the mine mouth can travel surprisingly far before reaching a household.

Yet uniformity should not become another word for centralisation.

India’s federal compact was never designed like a corporate head office issuing instructions to regional branches. The Constitution deliberately distributes powers because economic efficiency and democratic accountability do not always sit at the same table. The Supreme Court’s 2024 ruling reaffirmed that principle in unusually emphatic terms.

The MMDR amendment therefore needs something more than political messaging from either side. It needs institutional reassurance. If States are expected to surrender a newly affirmed taxing avenue, the Centre must demonstrate, transparently and predictably, that their legitimate fiscal interests will not be hollowed out. That means clear rules, meaningful consultation, credible revenue projections and perhaps a robust intergovernmental mechanism for resolving disputes.

There is an irony here. India wants to become a manufacturing powerhouse, a clean-energy leader and a developed economy by 2047. That ambition will require more minerals, not fewer. But the minerals beneath Keonjhar, Sundargarh or Jharkhand do not become “national” merely because the factories consuming them may be elsewhere.

A mine is a hole in the earth. A mining policy becomes a hole in the constitutional compact if it forgets who bears the political consequences.

The Centre is right to seek certainty. The States are right to guard fiscal autonomy. India will need both.

The real test of the 2026 Amendment, therefore, will not be how much faster India digs. It will be whether, while digging deeper into the earth, we can avoid digging a deeper fault line between the Union and the States.

India does need mineral security; critical-minerals self-reliance is not a slogan but a supply-chain emergency. Yet a republic is not governed well by choosing between the geologist’s map and the Constitution’s map. The ore, ultimately, will keep coming out of the ground. The trust, once mined out, does not.

 

The author – a Corporate Communications Leader, Award winning Author and Blogger – leads the Corporate Communication Department of CSM Technologies Pvt. Ltd