On Tuesday last week, in one of the biggest movements for women’s rights in India, 5 million women lined up across the length of the southern state of Kerala to “uphold Renaissance values.” What they were demanding was an end to violent agitations against women trying to enter Kerala’s Sabarimala Temple, a popular Hindu pilgrimage site. This followed a ruling by the Indian Supreme Court in September, which forced the temple’s doors open to women of all ages in a sensational blow to religious tradition.
“Where a man can enter, a woman can also go. What applies to a man, applies to a woman,” the bench said in its judgment.
Since 1991, the temple has accepted only men and older women in their millions every year to preserve the mythological celibacy of the ruling deity, Ayyappa.
In theory, the court order only reinforced Indian women’s constitutional right to enter places of worship as freely as men, but in practice it wreaked mayhem. Between Nov. 17 and Dec. 24, more than a dozen women of menstrual age, including reporters, tried to enter the temple, but were stopped, shoved and stoned by mobs of male devotees.
None of the women could make it in, despite police protection and prohibitory orders. Both sides are far from giving in. Protests have since continued, though most women who were sent back by the mobs have vowed to return.
However, this is not merely a gender war. The tussle over the temple entry emphasizes various other fractures: faith and state, government and judiciary, secular liberalism and religious populism.
Consider that Amit Shah, the president of the Bharatiya Janata party (BJP) — India’s ruling party — said that the courts should desist from giving orders “that break the faith of people and cannot be implemented.”
Consider also the resonating statement by his vocal opponent, the Congress party’s Shashi Tharoor, who is a member of parliament from Kerala: “For a secular institution like the court to engage in a theological exercise as to what aspect of faith or belief is an ‘essential religious practice’ is problematic.”
The wider debate Sabarimala has thrown up is between the logic in granting women entry to one of India’s most popular temples at a time when they have the same rights as men in most arenas and the dangers of a court imposing a social reform for which the intended society is far from prepared.
That neither of India’s two biggest parties can openly support the women’s constitutional right to enter a temple confirms the country’s complicated realities.
If the legend of Ayyappa’s celibacy is sacred to his devotees, and therefore worthy of exemption from state intervention, then similar appeals from believers of other faiths should hold equal weight — for instance some sections of India’s Muslim society have appealed against the Indian government’s continuing strikedown of “triple talaq,” which allows Muslim men to instantly divorce their wives.
It is even trickier to predict whether the courts’ interference in religion will always be a force for good.
The most contentious case before the Supreme Court at present is the matter of Ayodhya, where the Hindu nationalist forces — including the BJP — want to build a temple on a site that the Hindus believe to be the birthplace of the deity Ram.
Their belief is strong enough to have led 150,000 of them to demolish a 16th-century mosque, Babri Masjid, in 1992. As Hindu nationalist fervor peaks, ahead of this year’s parliamentary elections, the consequences of a decision in the favor of religious belief could be climactic.
Indeed the best way for women of menstrual age to enter Sabarimala would be through bottom-up social and religious reform. The most stinging critique of the Supreme Court order came from a survey that showed 75 percent of people in Kerala disagreed with the decision.
Claims were also made that the interests of a handful of leftist activists trying to enter the temple were at odds with the beliefs of the majority of Kerala’s ordinary women, who preferred the status quo.
However, the sight of the 620km “women’s wall” — one of the largest-ever congregations of women in the world — has rekindled hopes for a genuine movement.
Standing shoulder to shoulder along the highways was a wide range of women — young and old, rural and urban, farmers and doctors, activists and actors — taking the pledge to fight for gender equality.
Early the next morning, two women — Bindu Hariharan, 42, and Kanaka Durga, 44 — went to Sabarimala. They had visited the temple on Dec. 24, but were prevented from entering by rioting protesters. They had said they would get in — and sure enough, on this occasion, they got in.
Snigdha Poonam is a national affairs writer at the Hindustan Times and the author of Dreamers: How Young Indians Are Changing the World.
The cancelation this week of President William Lai’s (賴清德) state visit to Eswatini, after the Seychelles, Madagascar and Mauritius revoked overflight permits under Chinese pressure, is one more measure of Taiwan’s shrinking executive diplomatic space. Another channel that deserves attention keeps growing while the first contracts. For several years now, Taipei has been one of Europe’s busiest legislative destinations. Where presidents and foreign ministers cannot land, parliamentarians do — and they do it in rising numbers. The Italian parliament opened the year with its largest bipartisan delegation to Taiwan to date: six Italian deputies and one senator, drawn from six
Recently, Taipei’s streets have been plagued by the bizarre sight of rats running rampant and the city government’s countermeasures have devolved into an anti-intellectual farce. The Taipei Parks and Street Lights Office has attempted to eradicate rats by filling their burrows with polyurethane foam, seeming to believe that rats could not simply dig another path out. Meanwhile, as the nation’s capital slowly deteriorates into a rat hive, the Taipei Department of Environmental Protection has proudly pointed to the increase in the number of poisoned rats reported in February and March as a sign of success. When confronted with public concerns over young
Taiwan and India are important partners, yet this reality is increasingly being overshadowed in current debates. At a time when Taiwan-India relations are at a crossroads, with clear potential for deeper engagement and cooperation, the labor agreement signed in February 2024 has become a source of friction. The proposal to bring in 1,000 migrant workers from India is already facing significant resistance, with a petition calling for its “indefinite suspension” garnering more than 40,000 signatures. What should have been a straightforward and practical step forward has instead become controversial. The agreement had the potential to serve as a milestone in
China has long given assurances that it would not interfere in free access to the global commons. As one Ministry of Defense spokesperson put it in 2024, “the Chinese side always respects the freedom of navigation and overflight entitled to countries under international law.” Although these reassurances have always been disingenuous, China’s recent actions display a blatant disregard for these principles. Countries that care about civilian air safety should take note. In April, President Lai Ching-te (賴清德) canceled a planned trip to Eswatini for the 40th anniversary of King Mswati III’s coronation and the 58th anniversary of bilateral diplomatic
RSS