Essential Religious Practices: Judicial Doctrine or Civilisational Overreach?

 

When the Supreme Court of India reconvenes to examine the Sabarimala review petitions before its nine-judge constitutional bench, one doctrine will lie at the very heart of the deliberations—Essential Religious Practices (ERP). Though rarely debated in public discourse with the seriousness it deserves, this doctrine has quietly emerged as one of the most powerful judicial tools in shaping the relationship between the State and Dharma in Bharat.

The Sabarimala case has brought this doctrine under unprecedented scrutiny. What was once conceived as a protective mechanism for religious freedom is now being questioned as a potential instrument of civilisational overreach.

 

The Origins of ERP: A Doctrine with Limited Intent

The concept of Essential Religious Practices traces its roots to the landmark Shirur Mutt judgment of 1954. At that time, the Court sought to define the scope of religious freedom under Articles 25 and 26 of the Constitution. It recognised that not every activity associated with religion could be protected; only those practices deemed “essential” to a religion would enjoy constitutional safeguards.

At first glance, this appears reasonable. The State, after all, cannot permit practices that may be harmful or disruptive under the guise of religion. However, the doctrine introduced a subtle but profound shift—it placed the judiciary in the position of determining what is “essential” to a religion.

This was a departure from Bharat’s traditional approach, where such determinations were made internally by the sampradaya, guided by shastras, acharyas, and lived traditions.

Over time, what began as a limited judicial inquiry gradually expanded into a far more intrusive exercise.

 

From Protection to Intervention

In the decades following the Shirur Mutt Case, the ERP doctrine evolved in ways that its framers may not have anticipated. Courts began to actively examine religious texts, interpret doctrines, and evaluate the centrality of specific practices.

This transformation was not merely procedural—it was philosophical.

The judiciary, an institution designed to interpret law, found itself interpreting theology.

In the Sabarimala judgment of 2018, this approach was on full display. The Court examined whether the restriction on the entry of women of a certain age group was an essential part of the religious practice associated with the Sabarimala Temple. Concluding that it was not, the Court struck it down.

But this raises a critical question:
Can a practice that has been followed for centuries by devotees themselves be declared non-essential by an external authority?

The review petitions argue that this is precisely where the doctrine oversteps its legitimate boundaries.

The Epistemological Challenge: Who Understands Dharma?

At the core of the critique lies an epistemological challenge.

Bharat’s dharmic traditions are not based on a single authoritative text or centralised doctrine. They are plural, layered, and context-dependent. Practices evolve over time, shaped by local customs, theological interpretations, and the lived experiences of devotees.

In such a framework, the very idea of isolating “essential” practices becomes problematic.

Unlike Abrahamic traditions, where doctrinal centrality can often be traced to canonical texts, dharmic traditions operate through a dynamic interplay of shruti, smriti, achara, and anubhava.

When courts attempt to identify essential practices, they often rely on textual analysis. But texts alone do not define Dharma—practice does.

This disconnect leads to outcomes that may be legally sound within a particular framework but civilisationally incongruent.

 

Voices from Within: The Call for Restraint

Spiritual leaders and scholars have increasingly voiced concern over the application of the ERP doctrine. Among them, Yugbhushan Suri has articulated a particularly compelling critique.

He argues that questions of religious practice are fundamentally theological and should be resolved within the tradition itself. Courts, in his view, lack both the institutional competence and the spiritual authority to adjudicate such matters.

This perspective is not a rejection of constitutional governance. Rather, it is a call for judicial restraint—a recognition that not all domains of human life are amenable to legal reasoning.

The analogy often drawn is instructive. Just as courts rely on medical experts in complex scientific cases, should they not consult dharmic scholars in matters of religion?

The absence of such consultation, critics argue, results in decisions that may inadvertently distort the very traditions they seek to regulate.

 

ERP and the Expansion of Constitutional Morality

Another dimension of the debate concerns the increasing reliance on the concept of “constitutional morality.”

In recent years, courts have invoked this principle to evaluate religious practices against contemporary notions of equality and dignity. While the intent is laudable, its application raises important questions.

Whose morality is being applied?
And how does it interact with the moral frameworks embedded within dharmic traditions?

The Sabarimala judgment relied significantly on constitutional morality to prioritise individual rights over collective practices. However, the review petitions argue that this approach risks imposing a uniform standard on diverse traditions.

In a civilisation as plural as Bharat, such uniformity can lead to unintended consequences.

 

The Slippery Slope: Beyond Sabarimala

One of the most compelling arguments against the expansive use of ERP is its potential to affect a wide range of religious practices.

If courts can determine what is essential in one tradition, the same logic can be applied across others.

The review petitions explicitly highlight this concern, pointing to practices in different communities that could come under judicial scrutiny.

This raises the spectre of a judiciary that becomes the ultimate authority on all matters of faith.

Such a scenario would fundamentally alter the nature of religious freedom in Bharat—from autonomy to conditional permission.

 

Reclaiming the Civilisational Perspective

The critique of ERP is not merely legal—it is civilisational.

It challenges the assumption that all aspects of human life can be subjected to uniform standards of evaluation. It asserts that Dharma, as a civilisational framework, operates on principles that may not always align with modern legal categories.

This does not mean that traditions are beyond scrutiny. Bharat’s own history is replete with internal reform movements that have addressed social injustices.

However, such reforms have typically emerged from within the tradition, guided by its own philosophical resources.

The ERP doctrine, by contrast, represents an external intervention.

 

Towards a More Nuanced Approach

The Sabarimala review offers an opportunity to rethink the role of the judiciary in matters of religion.

A more nuanced approach could involve:

• Recognising the limits of judicial competence in theological matters
• Encouraging greater engagement with religious scholars and practitioners
• Distinguishing between practices that affect public order and those that are purely internal

Such an approach would not weaken constitutional governance. On the contrary, it would strengthen it by aligning it more closely with Bharat’s civilisational ethos.

 

The Nine-Judge Bench and the Future of ERP

The decision of the nine-judge bench will have far-reaching implications.

If the Court reaffirms the current application of ERP, it will consolidate the judiciary’s role as an arbiter of religious practices.

If it revisits and refines the doctrine, it could mark a shift towards greater respect for religious autonomy.

Either way, the outcome will shape the future of Dharma-State relations in Bharat.

 

Between Law and Living Tradition

The doctrine of Essential Religious Practices stands at a critical juncture.

It embodies the tension between two ways of understanding the world—one rooted in codified law, the other in lived tradition.

The Sabarimala case has brought this tension into sharp focus.

As the Supreme Court of India deliberates, the question is no longer whether ERP should exist, but how it should be applied—and whether its current form does justice to the civilisation it seeks to regulate.

In the next part of this series, we will turn to Articles 25 and 26 of the Constitution and examine whether their current interpretation adequately reflects Bharat’s dharmic realities, or whether a deeper civilisational reinterpretation is necessary.