Worship & the Law
The legal battle over religious sites raises crucial questions about coexistence, constitutional values, and the nation’s pluralistic future

In the ongoing legal saga concerning religious places of worship, the Places of Worship (Special Provisions) Act, 1991, stands at the heart of a debate that touches upon not just the sanctity of individual places of worship, but also the very foundations of India’s secular ethos. Recently, the Supreme Court of India began hearing a fresh series of petitions challenging the validity of this Act, and the growing controversy surrounding it only deepens the complexities of India’s identity as a pluralistic democracy.
At the core of these legal disputes is the question: should history, with its contentious and often painful religious conflicts, continue to shape modern-day India’s identity, or should the nation evolve into one where religious coexistence, as guaranteed by the Constitution, is safeguarded through law and policy? The Places of Worship Act was passed to freeze the religious character of places of worship as they stood on August 15, 1947—essentially putting an end to any further conversions of religious sites that might inflame inter-faith disputes. It was, at its core, an attempt to secure India’s fragile unity, to ensure that the sectarian violence and territorial claims of the past would not overshadow the country’s progress in the future.
The Act itself has been a quiet but steadfast pillar of India’s legal framework, ensuring that disputes over places like the Kashi Vishwanath and the Babri Masjid remain buried, preventing their recurrence. Yet, with the rise of fresh petitions—especially those targeting places like the Gyanvapi Mosque in Varanasi, Mathura’s Shahi Idgah, and the Sambhal Jama Masjid—the law has found itself at the centre of a volatile conversation about the place of religion in public life and the ongoing challenge to India’s secular fabric.
The journey of the 1991 Act’s invocation began long before the Gyanvapi case made headlines. In 1991, Varanasi’s priests filed a petition arguing that the Gyanvapi mosque was built atop the Kashi Vishwanath temple and should be returned to Hindus. This petition was immediately challenged by the mosque management, claiming it violated the new legislation. For nearly three decades, the Act’s application was barely discussed, until 2019, when the Supreme Court delivered its landmark verdict in the Ayodhya case, ultimately granting the disputed land for the construction of a Ram Temple while also directing a separate plot for the construction of a mosque. This decision reiterated the sanctity of the Places of Worship Act and the need to honour the religious status quo post-independence, asserting that India should not revisit wounds of the past to fuel present-day conflicts.
However, the real test for the law began when advocate Ashwini Kumar Upadhyay, in 2020, filed a petition questioning the constitutionality of key sections of the Act. He challenged Sections 2, 3, and 4, which prohibit the conversion of the religious character of any place of worship and protect the status of August 15, 1947. His petition, in essence, questioned whether the law’s intentions—rooted in protecting communal harmony and preserving India’s secular identity—should be subject to revision, especially as new claims are made about sites that are considered sacred by different communities. It’s a difficult, even contentious, question: should the Indian state allow religious groups to challenge the sanctity of these laws if they claim that certain spaces rightfully belong to them based on their historical or religious significance?
This debate finds its voice not only in the legal petitions but also in public sentiment. The rise of Hindu nationalist rhetoric in certain quarters has led to an increased push for revisiting these historical claims, fueling the fire of religious tensions that the 1991 Act sought to quell. For instance, Subramanian Swamy, a BJP leader and former MP, has requested the Supreme Court to “read down” certain provisions of the Act to enable Hindus to reclaim mosques in Varanasi and Mathura. This proposal runs counter to the Act’s original intent, which was to ensure the preservation of India’s pluralistic society and prevent the resurgence of violent religious clashes.
The legal battle has been prolonged, with multiple petitions piling up, and the government has, at times, been hesitant to take a strong stand on the issue. Recent court orders reflect the urgency of the situation. On 12 December 2024, the Supreme Court issued a crucial directive that no new suits could be registered concerning places of worship until further notice. Furthermore, the Court barred the passing of interim or final orders, including orders for surveys, in ongoing cases involving disputed religious sites. This decision was made in response to escalating violence, such as the deadly riots triggered by a survey order at the Sambhal mosque in Uttar Pradesh, which saw four people lose their lives.
The complexity of this issue lies not only in its legal dimensions but in the deep social and cultural ramifications it carries. The Court’s order is significant for maintaining a delicate balance between judicial propriety and national stability. The implications of this case extend far beyond just legal principles; they touch upon the broader question of how India navigates its pluralistic reality in a post-independence world. In a country where religious identity is often a defining feature, ensuring that the right to worship remains sacrosanct for all communities is essential for the country’s long-term social and political cohesion.
There is, undeniably, a larger question at stake: whether India’s secular and pluralistic identity can withstand the pressure of historical grievances and contemporary political ambitions. The Places of Worship Act was, in many ways, a recognition of the need to let go of the past to heal the present. It reflects the intent of India’s Constitution to provide space for all faiths to coexist peacefully, without one community trying to rewrite history to its advantage.
As the legal process continues to unfold, one must ask: what kind of society does India want to build? Is it one where the past’s unresolved disputes dictate the terms of present-day governance and religious coexistence? Or is it one where the Constitution’s promise of religious equality, respect, and non-discrimination reigns supreme, ensuring that people of all faiths feel secure in their right to worship and live in peace?
The recent developments underscore the need to reinforce and protect India’s secular and pluralistic ethos. The Places of Worship Act, despite its flaws and controversies, represents an attempt to uphold the values enshrined in the Constitution. As the Supreme Court continues to deliberate on the future of this law, it must keep in mind the broader impact of its decisions—not just on legal precedent, but on the future of India’s social harmony.
In a nation as diverse as India, where religion plays such a profound role in shaping individual and collective identities, the sanctity of the Constitution and its commitment to secularism must remain paramount. The right to worship is not just a legal question but a moral imperative—one that demands respect for the plurality of beliefs that make India unique. It is, ultimately, the only way forward to preserve the country’s democratic spirit and ensure that all its citizens, regardless of faith, can live with dignity and peace.
The writer is a political analyst and columnist. Views expressed are personal