Sabarimala review and a question: How far does faith extend — and when should the Constitution step in?

Ultimately, the debate is not about choosing between the two. It is about recognising that the Constitution is the framework within which faith is practised in a plural society

When the judiciary examines an issue of faith, it enters a space shaped not only by law but by belief and identity. The Supreme Court will once again confront this delicate terrain when it hears Kantaru Rajeevaru v Indian Young Lawyers’ Association — the Sabarimala review. It is listed before a nine-judge Constitution Bench from April 7 to April 22. The Sabarimala issue revives the same uneasy question: How far does faith extend, and where should the Constitution and the courts step in, if at all?

Articles 25 and 26 of the Constitution were framed with awareness of India’s religious diversity and in order to protect the beliefs and practices of every religion — which is why it also has limits. Article 25 guarantees to every person the freedom of conscience and the right freely to profess, practise, and propagate religion. It is subject to public order, morality, and health, and to the other provisions of Part III (fundamental rights). Religious liberty in India was never meant to operate in isolation from equality, dignity, and liberty.

The Supreme Court’s observations about the scope of religion in The Commissioner, Hindu Religious Endowments, Madras v Sri Lakshmindra Thirtha Swamiar of Shirur Mutt remain the guiding light. The Court held that religion also includes essential practices integral to the faith, and at the same time, it drew a distinction between religious practices and secular activities associated with religion. The state could regulate the latter, especially where administration, property, and finances were concerned.

This distinction between the sacred and the secular has shaped seven decades of jurisprudence. Yet it has also placed the judiciary in an uncomfortable position. Determining what constitutes an essential religious practice requires courts to engage in theological interpretation. The doctrine persists because it attempts to balance autonomy with accountability.

The interplay between Articles 25 and 26 sharpens this tension. Article 25 protects individual rights while Article 26 protects the collective rights of religious denominations to manage their own affairs in matters of religion, to establish institutions, and to administer property. In theory, the two provisions coexist harmoniously, but in practice, conflict arises when denominational autonomy restricts individual access or equality.

The controversy surrounding the Sabarimala temple brought this conflict into sharp focus in Indian Young Lawyers Association v State of Kerala. The majority held that exclusion of women of a certain age group violated constitutional guarantees of equality and dignity. It rejected the claim that the temple constituted a separate religious denomination and was entitled to exclude.

The judgment elevated the idea of constitutional morality as a standard against which religious practices may be tested. It demands that all institutions, including religious ones, operate within that normative framework. If constitutional morality becomes the yardstick for every contested practice, courts may be drawn into adjudicating matters better left to communities. The Constitution was not framed to preserve social hierarchies under the cloak of religion.

A related question concerns whether denominational rights under Article 26 are themselves fundamental rights. The answer is clearly yes. Religious denominations can approach constitutional courts to vindicate their rights. The Court in S P Mittal v Union of India clarified the tests for identifying a denomination: A common faith, a common organisation, and a distinct name.

These rights are real and enforceable. However, they are not superior to other fundamental rights. Even though Article 26 does not explicitly state this, judicial interpretation has consistently harmonised it with Articles 14, 15, and 21. No fundamental right exists in a vacuum. Where denominational practices collide with equality or dignity, courts must undertake a careful balancing exercise.

Article 25(2)(b) provides another window into the framers’ intent. It empowers the state to enact laws “throwing open Hindu religious institutions of a public character to all classes and sections of Hindus.” The phrase “section of Hindus” was deliberately broad. It recognised the internal diversity of Hindu society and sought to dismantle caste-based exclusions.

Temple entry legislation across the country rests on this constitutional foundation. This clause demonstrates that social reform was always part of the constitutional design. Religious freedom was never conceived as a shield against all reform. At the same time, reform must proceed through law, not executive fiat. The state’s power under Article 25(2)(b) is enabling, but it must still conform to constitutional discipline.

Ultimately, the debate is not about choosing between faith and the Constitution. It is about recognising that the Constitution is the framework within which faith is practised in a plural society. Articles 25 and 26 were crafted to protect diversity, not to fossilise inequality. They embody both respect for belief and commitment to reform. The challenge for courts is to apply these provisions with restraint and clarity. Essential practices must be identified with care. Constitutional morality must not become an empty slogan, nor a blunt instrument. Denominational autonomy deserves respect, but not at the cost of fundamental rights.

India’s Constitution has always involved negotiation between tradition and transformation. Religious freedom is a vital part of our constitutionalism, and its protection requires humility in acknowledging the depth of faith and firmness in upholding the values that bind the Republic together. That balance, delicate and often contested, is the true measure of our constitutional maturity.

The writer is an advocate, Supreme Court of India, and specialises in constitutional law