Explosive questions challenge India’s Supreme Court on religious equality, historical justice, and democratic trust in its sacred impartiality.
A Court That Chooses?
Imagine a Supreme Court that empowers some grievances while sidelining others. A bastion of justice that, in its silence, amplifies suspicion. That’s where we stand today—in the halls of India’s highest court, where democracy meets doubt in sharp relief.
The hallowed halls of India’s Supreme Court, often seen as the last bastion of justice, are now echoing with a charge so audacious it has sent tremors across the nation’s political landscape. Just days ago, a sitting Member of Parliament, Dr. Nishikant Dubey, dared to articulate the unthinkable: “If anyone in this country is responsible for inciting religious violence, it would be the Supreme Court and its judges!” Such a statement, a cannon shot aimed directly at the judiciary’s perceived impartiality, predictably triggered a political firestorm. Yet, amidst the condemnations from opposition benches, a prominent voice of intellectual dissent, scientist and author Anand Ranganathan, has not only thrown his weight behind Dubey’s provocative assertion but has amplified it with nine searing questions, delivered with an intellectual ferocity that demands attention.
These are not mere rhetorical flourishes; they represent a deep-seated frustration, a growing unease among a significant segment of the populace who perceive a profound imbalance, a judicial double standard that threatens the very normative order of a secular republic. Ranganathan’s interrogation of the Court’s conduct is less an attack on the institution itself and more a desperate plea for introspection, a warning flare from the frontlines of India’s cultural and civilisational battleground.
The Crooked Mirror of Justice: Nine Painful Questions
Many see it as a disquieting pattern, a strategic ambiguity in the Court’s application of justice:
1. Kashmir: A Tale of Two Tragedies? The swiftness with which the Supreme Court addressed petitions against the abrogation of Article 370, a move seen by many as a powerful assertion of national sovereignty over a historically contentious region, stands in stark contrast to its dismissal of pleas for justice for Kashmiri Hindus. The chilling tales of their forced exodus in the 1990s – the murders, rapes, destruction of homes and temples – were brushed aside with the curt observation, “It happened too long ago.” Is this not a cruel irony, a poignant demonstration of a justice system selectively blind to historical wounds, particularly when they involve a specific community’s suffering? Does this not, in its very essence, breed a corrosive sense of injustice, laying fertile ground for religious discord?
2. The Waqf Board’s Shadow Empire: A Deafening Silence? For decades, the Waqf Board has been accused of operating as a parallel legal entity, allegedly seizing vast swathes of property (over 2 million Hindu properties, as claimed), sidestepping tax laws, and enforcing its own judicial diktats. Yet, the Supreme Court, despite now expressing concern over its reforms, remained conspicuously silent on these allegations for thirty years. If reforms are framed as an assault on a religion, then how was the alleged illegal seizure of Hindu lands to erect mosques and dargahs not considered a grievous violation? Is this not a glaring instance of religious bias, or perhaps a strategic avoidance of a sensitive, yet critical, issue?
3. Temples Enslaved, Others Emboldened: A Financial Paradox? Hindu temples, unlike institutions of other faiths, largely remain under government control. Their revenues, often substantial, are allegedly diverted to diverse causes, including madrassas, Hajj subsidies, Waqf Boards, and Iftar feasts. Simultaneously, Hindu religious practices face bureaucratic hurdles and legal restrictions, while petitions advocating for Hindu rights are frequently set aside. The accusation: a consistent prioritisation of minority rights over those of the majority. Is this equitable governance, or is it a policy designed to stoke the embers of discontent within the Hindu majority?
4. Education Apartheid: A One-Sided Burden? The Right to Education Act mandates that Hindu-run schools reserve 25% of their seats for disadvantaged minorities, a noble aim in principle. Yet, a glaring asymmetry exists: institutions run by Muslim and Christian communities are exempt from this very rule. The tragic consequence, as articulated, is the closure of thousands of Hindu schools, forcing Hindu children into non-Hindu educational environments. Is this not a subtle yet potent form of religious discrimination, potentially encouraging conversions, and why does the Court seemingly ignore this one-sided imposition?
5. Free Speech: A Convenient Double Standard? The very definition of “hate speech” appears to shift with the religious identity of the speaker. When a Hindu figure like Nupur Sharma merely quotes from religious texts, it is swiftly condemned by the Court as hate speech, unleashing a torrent of public outrage. Yet, when political figures like Udhayanidhi Stalin brand Sanatana Dharma as a “disease,” the judicial response is a deafening silence. Is this the embodiment of justice, or a chilling demonstration of a justice system that applies different yardsticks, effectively stifling one narrative while tacitly endorsing another?
6. Selective Scrutiny: Only Hindu Traditions on Trial? The Supreme Court has intervened to ban certain Hindu traditions like animal sacrifice during Dussehra or imposed height restrictions on Dahi Handi celebrations during Janmashtami. Yet, the larger-scale Halal slaughter during Eid, or the often violent processions associated with Muharram, escape similar judicial scrutiny. Diwali firecrackers are demonised for environmental pollution, while Christmas fireworks remain unmentioned. Is this not a deeply discriminatory approach, targeting specific practices of one faith while ignoring comparable, or even more impactful, practices of others?
7. Places of Worship Act: A Freeze on Historical Justice? The 1991 Places of Worship Act, which mandates the religious character of places of worship as of August 15, 1947, is seen as an iron curtain drawn over historical injustices. While the Ram Mandir case endured a decades-long legal battle, numerous other ancient Hindu temples, allegedly destroyed or converted, remain beyond the pale of reclamation. This law, in effect, perpetuates a historical asymmetry, preventing the redressal of grievances for a community that bore the brunt of centuries of invasions and desecrations. Is this judicial neutrality, or a perpetuation of historical injustice?
8. Sabarimala and the Sanctity of Tradition: A Singular Focus? The Sabarimala verdict, which allowed women of all ages entry into the temple, deeply hurt Hindu sentiments by intervening in an ancient, unique tradition. The criticism levied is that while certain Hindu temples maintain male-only or female-only customs, the Court has selectively targeted only Hindu practices. Yet, similar restrictions on women’s entry into mosques in Islam, or the exclusion of women from the priesthood in Christianity, remain unchallenged by the Court. Is this not an infringement on religious autonomy, selectively applied, and thereby creating a perception of bias?
9. Anti-CAA Protests: Law’s Impotence or Calculated Inertia? During the prolonged Shaheen Bagh protests and the subsequent anti-CAA riots, characterised by the blockade of public roads and significant disruption, the Supreme Court’s response was marked by inaction. Despite the immense public inconvenience and the breakdown of law and order, a firm judicial intervention was conspicuously absent. This perceived judicial inertia, or perhaps a calculated caution, is seen by some as a mockery of the law, further exacerbating the sense of grievance among those whose lives were disrupted and who felt the state machinery, including the judiciary, failed to act decisively.
The very fabric of India’s democracy rests on the pillars of its institutions, with the judiciary often held as the ultimate arbiter of justice. When such profound questions are raised, not by fringe elements but by prominent public figures who resonate with a substantial segment of the population, it demands more than mere political dismissal. It calls for a profound moment of reflection, a rigorous self-assessment from the highest echelons of power. In a nation as diverse and vibrant as India, where faith often intertwines with identity, the perception of an impartial and equitable justice system is not merely desirable; it is existential. The silence, or perceived bias, of the judiciary on these critical issues risks not only eroding public trust but inadvertently becoming a catalyst for the very religious disharmony it is sworn to prevent. This is not merely a legal debate; it is a profound moral and existential challenge to the soul of the Indian republic.
A Warning at the Temple of Justice
A nation’s courts are a mirror. But if that mirror is crooked—reflecting only what its guardians choose to see—it becomes a weapon. India stands at such a threshold. These nine questions are not noise—they are a wake-up call: democracy, religious equality, secular integrity—each demanding consistent adjudication.
If the Court returns to principled, balanced jurisprudence, it strengthens India’s democratic muscle and global prestige. If not—if judicial bias deepens—it risks fracturing the moral unity that binds this plural republic.
Silence now is not neutrality. It is surrender. A warning flare was ringing through the corridors of constitutional power.
