Tamil Nadu

Constitutional Crisis: Are Court Orders And Hindu Rights Now Optional In Tamil Nadu?

K Balakumar | Dec 04, 2025, 11:58 AM | Updated 11:58 AM IST

For Hindus in Tamil Nadu, the message of these Karthigai flashpoints is brutal and urgent.

By refusing to implement court orders on Karthigai Deepam at Thiruparankundram and Mandu Kovil, the Tamil Nadu administration has crossed from bias into open defiance of the Constitution.

It is nurturing a West Bengal–style culture of lawless impunity.

Yesterday was a sad day for Hindus in Tamil Nadu, and for the rule of law.

In two separate matters at the hoary Thiruparankundram on the outskirts of Madurai and the Mandu Kovil site at Perumal Kovilpatti in Dindigul, the Madras High Court (Madurai Bench) unambiguously allowed Hindus to light the Karthigai Deepam lamp.

In both cases, the State apparatus simply refused to implement the orders, then hid behind manufactured 'law and order' concerns to block the very rituals the court had permitted.

At Thiruparankundram, Justice GR Swaminathan had categorically held that the ancient Deepathoon (stone lamp pillar) stood on devasthanam land and that lighting the lamp there would not infringe the rights of the neighbouring dargah, which has title only over specified portions of the hill.

As it happened, the most aggressive obstruction did not come from the Muslim side, which the court had explicitly protected in law, but from the HR&CE and local administration that one would expect to defend the temple's interests.

Anyway, the temple management and police did not make arrangements to light the ceremonial lamp, compelling the court in a contempt petition to authorise the devotee-petitioner himself, with ten others, to go up and light the lamp under CISF protection, a symbolic gesture to salvage the dignity of its own order. But even that couldn't be carried out thanks to the intransigence of the police on ground.

The case is far from over and will be heard in the Madras High Court today.

When the executive nullifies the court

If Thiruparankundram exposed institutional recalcitrance, Perumal Kovilpatti in Dindigul crossed into open rebellion. The court had permitted the Hindu residents to celebrate Karthigai Deepam at Mandu Kovil, a site recognised in revenue records, with a peedam, where the Christian-majority neighbourhood has no legal claim.

Instead of enforcing the order and ensuring security, the district administration slapped prohibitory orders under Section 163(1) of the new BNSS, effectively making it impossible to carry out the festival the court had just allowed.

The court rightly observed that the Executive 'cannot sit in judgment' over his order, and that a Collector has no appellate jurisdiction over a High Court judge. The court called it not only a sad day for the Madurai Bench but a 'sadder day for the Rule of Law', noting that the fundamental right of Hindus of the village to worship and celebrate under Article 25 had been 'brazenly defied'.

Summoning the Collector and SP, the court made it clear that even third parties could be hauled up for contempt if they aid or abet disobedience.

A pattern of selective secularism

These episodes are not random aberrations. They fit a disturbing pattern of the State either capitulating to, or aligning with, non-Hindu pressure groups whenever Hindu assertion comes into the picture. In Dindigul itself, earlier this month at Panchampatti, Christians held protests against annadhanam on government land during a Hindu temple kumbabishekam, despite the event having court sanction.

The script is the same everywhere. The State pleads law and order, frets about 'sensitivities' of the local Christian or Muslim population, and then issues sweeping prohibitory orders designed to make compliance impossible. When Hindus protest this targeted denial of rights, they are portrayed as having disturbed the peace, while the original illegality (defiance of a judicial order) is normalised.

This is not secularism. It is the weaponisation of 'public order' as a fig leaf to stifle the constitutionally guaranteed rights.

Courts without teeth?

In his anguished observations in the Dindigul matter, Justice Swaminathan went beyond the immediate facts and flagged a systemic danger. He said courts possess 'vast powers' on paper but lack the machinery to ensure compliance. A judgement, he said, has 'little meaning' if it cannot be enforced.

Repeated disobedience by the State can erode the very foundation of a constitutional system based on the rule of law and may even lead to a 'constitutional stalemate'.

The Constitution, as he pointed out, imposes a 'non‑negotiable obligation' on all authorities to enforce court orders. No officer enjoys the discretion to treat a High Court direction as a casual suggestion. When Collectors and temple executives learn that they can ignore orders with minimal consequences, it sends exactly the signal the judge warned about (that defiance is costless and may even be politically rewarding).

This is how a Mamata-style culture of lawless impunity gets institutionalised. First in sensitive religious matters, then in political cases, and eventually in every area where the ruling dispensation wants to bend the system to its will.

West Bengal offers a cautionary tale of what happens when executive defiance of court directions, selective policing and partisan administration become entrenched habits rather than exceptions.

The Hindu predicament and the road ahead

For Hindus in Tamil Nadu, the message of these Karthigai flashpoints is brutal. Even when a High Court order is in their favour, the State can still stop their festival and then blame them for disturbing peace. The right to light a lamp at a stone pillar on temple land becomes negotiable. The hurt sentiments of others, or the electoral calculus of the ruling party, become paramount.

If such conduct goes unchecked, it may not remain confined to Karthigai Deepam or to Dindigul and Thiruparankundram. Today it is a lamp on a hill. Tomorrow it can be any core Hindu practice, any temple festival, any assertion of cultural right that does not suit the ideological preferences of those in power.

The court has done what it can. It has issued strong words, summoned officials, reiterated that Article 25 rights cannot be throttled by bogus law‑and‑order claims.

But the remaining responsibility lies with the larger constitutional ecosystem, that is higher judiciary, civil society, media, and political opposition, and ensure that such defiance is punished, not rewarded. If the Tamil Nadu dispensation is allowed to get away with treating High Court orders as disposable, the precedent will travel far beyond one State and one community.

Then the crisis will not be about Hindu rights alone. It will be about whether India still has a functioning Constitution at all.