The Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Bill, 2026, was introduced during the Budget Session of the Maharashtra Legislature in March 2026. The Bill was tabled in the Legislative Assembly on March 13, 2026, and was passed by the Assembly on March 16, followed by approval from the Legislative Council on March 17. After being cleared by both Houses, the legislation was sent to Maharashtra Governor C.P. Radhakrishnan, who subsequently reserved it for the consideration of the President of India. The Bill received presidential assent from President Droupadi Murmu on July 31, 2026, after which the Governor forwarded it to the state government for notification. The Act will come into force only after the Maharashtra government issues a notification specifying the date of commencement. Maharashtra becomes the 13^th state in the country to pass such/similar laws. All these states are governed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) that has its ideological base in the far right, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS).

The speed with which the legislation moved through the state legislature had itself become a point of criticism. Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), in its dissent note, highlighted that the Bill was introduced and passed within days, with limited scope for public consultation or legislative scrutiny, despite the fact that similar anti-conversion laws enacted by other states are already under examination before the Supreme Court. CJP is the lead petitioner in the constitutional challenge to the first batch of such laws passed by five states between the years, 2020-2023. This challenge has been pending in the Supreme Court, despite pleas for interim stays on the most egregious provisions for over five years now. [1]

Details on the interim applications urging stay on the most egregious provisions, filed by CJP on April 16, 2025 may be read here.

In early 2026, while the batch of petitions challenging the constitutional validity of these state laws were listed before the court of the Chief Justice of India (CJI), they were once again deferred. Reports may be read here. Thereafter, first on May 13, 2026 the matters were listed to be heard after which the next date that appears on the Supreme Court calendar is August 12, 2026!!

The presidential assent does little to resolve the fundamental constitutional questions surrounding the legislation. Instead, Maharashtra has now joined a growing list of states that have enacted “freedom of religion” laws whose provisions are being challenged for creating a framework where the exercise of an individual’s conscience and religious choice is placed under state surveillance.

CJP, which is also the lead petitioner challenging multiple anti-conversion laws before the Supreme Court, has consistently argued that these statutes do not merely target coercive conversions. Rather, their architecture treats voluntary conversion, particularly in the context of interfaith relationships, as inherently suspect and places private decisions under criminal scrutiny.

A “Freedom of Religion” law that restricts the freedom to choose

The Maharashtra Act claims to prevent conversions caused by force, fraud, coercion, misrepresentation, allurement or undue influence. On paper, preventing coercion may appear consistent with constitutional guarantees. However, the difficulty lies in the breadth of the law and the mechanisms it creates.

The Act treats offering money, gifts, employment, education, promises of marriage, assurances of better living conditions or claims of divine healing as unlawful inducements if linked with conversion. The problem is that the law does not adequately distinguish between genuine coercion and ordinary circumstances in which individuals make religious choices influenced by personal relationships, social support, material circumstances or lived experiences. By creating a wide category of prohibited influence, the law risks converting legitimate exercises of conscience into potential criminal offences. A person’s decision to embrace another faith is protected not because the State approves of the choice, but because the Constitution protects the individual’s autonomy to make that choice.

Mandatory state oversight over matters of faith

One of the most intrusive features of the legislation is the requirement of prior notice before conversion. The Act mandates a 60-day prior notice to the district magistrate before conversion. This effectively transforms a deeply personal decision into an administrative process.

Instead of recognising conversion as an exercise of individual conscience, the law creates a system where government authorities are informed in advance and can scrutinise the circumstances surrounding a person’s decision.

CJP has argued that such provisions undermine the constitutional guarantee of freedom of conscience by making religious choice dependent on executive oversight. The Constitution does not make the right to believe, reject, adopt or change religion conditional upon government approval.

The law creates a climate of suspicion around interfaith relationships

While the Act is presented as a measure against forced conversion, its most contentious impact is likely to be felt in cases involving interfaith relationships. The legislation permits complaints by relatives of the person who has converted, including parents and siblings. This creates a mechanism where consenting adults may find their personal relationships subjected to police investigation merely because family members object to their choices.

CJP’s dissent note has warned that such provisions disproportionately affect interfaith couples by allowing private disagreements and social opposition to be converted into criminal proceedings.

The concern is not hypothetical. Similar anti-conversion laws across states have repeatedly been invoked in cases involving marriages between persons of different faiths. A law meant to protect individual choice cannot operate by empowering third parties to challenge that choice.

Reversal of burden of proof

Perhaps the most constitutionally troubling feature of the Maharashtra Act is the reversal of the burden of proof. Under ordinary criminal jurisprudence, the prosecution must establish guilt beyond reasonable doubt. However, under this legislation, the accused person must prove that the conversion was lawful and voluntary. The State is therefore not required to first establish wrongdoing in the traditional sense; instead, the person accused of facilitating conversion must defend the legitimacy of the act.

CJP has identified this reversal as one of the central constitutional defects in anti-conversion laws, arguing that it undermines basic criminal law protections and creates a chilling effect on legitimate religious choices.

Regulating women’s choices under the guise of preventing coercion

Although the Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Act is presented as a law against forced or fraudulent religious conversions, its operation is likely to fall most heavily on women exercising autonomy in matters of faith and marriage. Across states with similar anti-conversion laws, a significant number of prosecutions have arisen not from allegations of organised or coerced conversions, but from consensual interfaith relationships where families have opposed a woman’s decision to marry or convert. By permitting complaints from parents, siblings and other blood relatives, mandating prior notice before conversion, and empowering the police to investigate private decisions, the Act effectively shifts control over an adult woman’s choices from the individual to her family and the State. Instead of presuming that adult women possess the capacity to make informed decisions about their faith and relationships—a principle repeatedly affirmed by constitutional courts—the law creates a legal framework that invites suspicion of their agency. As CJP has argued in its dissent note, the legislation risks reinforcing patriarchal assumptions that women are vulnerable to manipulation and therefore require State and familial supervision, undermining the constitutional guarantees of dignity, privacy, equality and decisional autonomy under Articles 14, 19, 21 and 25 of the Constitution.

Passed without meaningful debate

CJP has also criticised the legislative process through which the Maharashtra law was enacted. In its dissent note, the organisation argued that the Bill was introduced and passed with extraordinary haste, leaving little opportunity for meaningful public consultation or democratic scrutiny.

The Bill was introduced in the Maharashtra Assembly on March 13, 2026, passed by the Legislative Assembly on March 16, and cleared by the Legislative Council on March 17. CJP argued that the hurried passage of the law was particularly concerning because the Supreme Court is already examining the constitutional validity of similar legislation enacted by multiple states. Introducing another law of the same nature while constitutional challenges remain pending raises questions about legislative accountability and respect for judicial review.

The Maharashtra law comes amid a broader challenge before the Supreme Court against anti-conversion statutes across India. The proceedings, led by CJP, initially challenged laws enacted in Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh. The challenge was subsequently expanded to include laws enacted in Gujarat, Chhattisgarh, Haryana, Jharkhand and Karnataka.

The petitions argue that these laws violate:

• Article 25’s protection of freedom of conscience;
• Article 21’s guarantee of personal liberty and privacy;
• Article 14’s guarantee of equality.

The petitioners contend that the State may prohibit forced conversion, but cannot regulate voluntary conversion or require individuals to justify their faith choices before public authorities.

Courts have already warned against excessive state intervention

The constitutional concerns surrounding such laws are not new. In Evangelical Fellowship of India v. State of Himachal Pradesh, the Himachal Pradesh High Court struck down provisions of the Himachal Pradesh Freedom of Religion Act, 2006 requiring prior declaration before conversion. The Court held that the right to change one’s belief could not be restricted merely on the assumption that public order might be affected. Despite this clear course correction by a constitutional court, the same state re-enacted a similar law with the same provisions in august 2022. This is one of the key substantive points argued by the CJP in its constitutional challenge to the Himachal Pradesh law. Report may be read here. While the Indian National Congress (INC), the lead opposition party has come back to power in the state (December 2022), this law has not yet been repealed, close to four years later. Similar is the situation in the state of Karnataka, a state ruled by the INC since May 2023.

Despite this judicial warning, similar provisions have repeatedly resurfaced in newer anti-conversion laws. The Gujarat High Court and Madhya Pradesh High Court have also intervened against certain provisions of their respective state laws, particularly those involving interfaith marriages and mandatory declarations.

The Maharashtra government has defended the law as necessary to prevent exploitation and fraudulent conversions. However, the constitutional challenge is not about whether coercive conversion should be prohibited. It is about whether the State can create a system where every conversion is treated as requiring explanation, scrutiny and approval. A democratic Constitution protects the freedom to choose one’s faith precisely because such choices are deeply personal and cannot be determined by the State.

The complete dissent note may be read below:

[1] CJP had first, in December 2020-February 2021, filed petitions in the Supreme Court challenging the Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh laws passed earlier and thereafter, in 2023, amended their plea to include similar laws passed in Chhattisgarh, Gujarat, Haryana, Jharkhand, and Karnataka. CJP is the lead petitioner in this matter.

Related:

Allahabad HC flags misuse of UP Anti-Conversion Law, quashes FIR and rebukes ‘mimeographed’ complaints

35 civil society groups oppose Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion law, warn of threat to women’s autonomy and constitutional freedoms

‘Faith Is Not a Crime’: Mumbai’s Christians rise against Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion bill

Maharashtra’s Proposed Anti-Conversion Law: Manufacturing moral panic to criminalise personal choice

Supreme Court defers hearing in batch of petitions, led by CJP, challenging state Anti-Conversion laws; interim relief applications pending since April 2025v

Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Push: How organised street pressure, Hindutva mobilisation and a pending law threaten constitutional freedoms

The post Policing Autonomy & Faith: Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion law gets President’s assent appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Detailed report on actions taken by Maharashtra police against student protesters may be read here, here and here.

According to The Indian Express, the Chief Minister’s directions have also been communicated to the Director General of Police, with officials indicating that, broadly, there would be no detentions, no police visits to the homes of those named in the FIRs and no coercive measures while the government works through the legal process for withdrawing the cases.

The protests, held largely on July 23 and 24 across Mumbai, Pune and Nagpur, were organised in solidarity with the brute police action against student protesters and youth led-Cockroach Janata Party’s (CJP) agitation at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar over alleged irregularities in the NEET examination and demands for the resignation of former Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. According to PTI, most of the cases registered in Maharashtra relate to allegations of unlawful assembly and violations of prohibitory orders.

By the time the withdrawal process was announced, Mumbai Police had registered around 20 FIRs across police stations including Worli, Dadar, Sion, Mahim and Shivaji Park, with more than 1,000 students, youth and protesters booked under bailable offences such as unlawful assembly and violations of prohibitory orders under the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS). Hundreds of those booked later received notices, many delivered through WhatsApp, directing them to appear before investigating officers.

According to Hindustan Times, Fadnavis directed the Home Department to begin the process of withdrawing cases against participants in the CJP protests, fulfilling one of the key assurances given after the party suspended its nationwide agitation. However, government officials stressed that the announcement does not automatically terminate the FIRs.

“Once an FIR is registered, the government cannot suo motu withdraw the case. It can only initiate the process for withdrawal, which has to be completed in accordance with the legal procedure and requires scrutiny as well as court approval,” a senior official told Hindustan Times.

Officials told The Indian Express that while such cases are ordinarily withdrawn after a chargesheet has been filed and the prosecution seeks permission from the court, the government is also examining whether filing closure reports may be legally feasible in some cases. They emphasised that the Chief Minister’s announcement by itself does not bring the investigations to an end.

The government’s decision follows sustained pressure from student organisations, opposition parties and the CJP, which had repeatedly warned that it would resume nationwide protests if governments failed to honour assurances to withdraw all FIRs against peaceful demonstrators. Earlier, the Bihar and Assam governments had also announced the withdrawal of cases registered against participants in the CJP-led protests.

Despite the government’s announcement, confusion has continued on the ground. According to The Free Press Journal, Mumbai Police have maintained that investigation procedures cannot be halted until they receive formal legal instructions. Police officials said they are still required to record statements of accused persons and witnesses, conduct panchnamas and complete other statutory procedures because the FIRs remain legally in force.

The decision to withdraw the cases followed representations by a joint delegation of the All India Students’ Federation (AISF), which met the Director General of Police and the Mumbai Police Commissioner seeking an end to police action against peaceful protesters. While welcoming the government’s decision, AISF has maintained that the struggle will continue until every FIR, notice and legal proceeding against student protesters is withdrawn.

AISF Mumbai President Aamir Kazi told The Free Press Journal that students continued to receive calls and notices from police even after the government’s announcement, creating fear and uncertainty. He said the Director General of Police advised the organisation to submit a representation to the Mumbai Police Commissioner requesting that no further notices be issued and that students not be summoned to police stations while the withdrawal process is underway.

Student organisations have also alleged that police action continued despite the government’s announcement. According to The Free Press Journal, members of the Harsha Disha student organisation said that beginning around 9:30 a.m. on July 28, several students who had participated in the protests received FIR notices through WhatsApp. In a statement, the organisation accused the Mumbai Police and the BJP-led government of attempting to intimidate students and discourage future protests, and urged the CJP to continue its agitation until every FIR is withdrawn and police officials allegedly responsible for violence against protesters are held accountable.

Officials further indicated that the current government resolution authorising withdrawal of such cases remains valid until July 31. As several investigations are still underway and many chargesheets may not be filed before then, an extension of the resolution is likely to be considered. Police officials said the sooner chargesheets are completed, the sooner the formal withdrawal process can begin.

The issue has also played out differently in other states. The West Bengal government stated that it would not take coercive action against students but clarified that this protection would not extend to persons with criminal antecedents, citing the Supreme Court’s order. The state said that one police case had been registered, in which 16 people were arrested before subsequently securing bail. Six additional cases remain pending on complaints filed by journalists alleging they were assaulted during the protests.

In Kerala, the Congress-led government has directed the Home Department to examine the demand for withdrawal of cases after the Leader of the Opposition wrote to the Chief Minister seeking similar relief for protesters.

Detailed report may be read here.

Meanwhile, the CJP has expressed concern over the Supreme Court’s observation permitting investigations in existing FIRs to continue. The organisation argued that the direction was inconsistent with the assurances allegedly given by governments that cases against peaceful protesters would be withdrawn. CJP leader Saurav Das said the executive retained the power to withdraw the FIRs, as demonstrated by Bihar and Assam, and called for complete transparency in the process.

The Supreme Court cannot be politicised for government’s gains. Its orders cannot be weaponised to achieve those gains. A solemn guarantee was given before the nation. Those ought to be honoured. All FIRs ought to be withdrawn. If criminals roamed, police must apply for…

— Saurav Das (@SauravDassss) July 28, 2026

URGENT STATEMENT

The interim order passed by the Supreme Court of India in the batch of PILs related to the CJP protest must ring alarm bells across the country. In particular, Direction No. 4, which permits governments to proceed with existing FIRs and carry out…

— Saurav Das (@SauravDassss) July 28, 2026

The Maharashtra government’s announcement comes in the backdrop of the Supreme Court’s earlier direction that no coercive action be taken against student protesters across states and that any detained minors be released immediately. Even as the state has publicly committed to withdrawing the FIRs, the legal process remains ongoing, meaning students may continue to receive notices and be required to participate in investigation procedures until the statutory process is completed and the courts formally approve the withdrawal of the cases.

Related:

A deleted tweet, an NSA order, and the shadow of past crackdowns

Youth Uprising: A protest, a brute crackdown, a continuing countrywide response

Mumbai stands with students, but the state pushes back

The exam crisis that became a battle for accountability

Brute Police Action: Mumbai’s crackdown on protestors in solidarity with CJP & Student Groups, AISF, SFI & AISA

The post Maharashtra: After backlash, govt. moves to withdraw FIRs against student protesters but questions remain appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The process of drafting, tabling and passage of the Bill into law has been non-transparent and hurried, itself displaying an extremely undemocratic and unconstitutional approach. After some scant media reports regarding the state government’s intent, the Bill (Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Bill, 2026 (Maharashtra Dharma Swatantrya Adhiniyam 2026) was tabled on Friday, March 13, 2026, hurriedly passed in the Vidhan Sabha on Monday March 16, 2026 (Vidhan Sabha) and March 17, 2026 (Vidhan Parishad).

Just days before Citizens for Justice and Peace, along with other city-wide groups had addressed a press conference outlining the major objections to the Bill. This Joint press conference was held on March 11, 2026. Participating organisations emphasise that introducing another anti-conversion law while the Supreme Court is actively considering the constitutional validity of similar statutes raises serious questions of legislative prudence and constitutional accountability.

CJP is a Lead Petitioner in the Supreme Court challenging all such laws filed in other states in since 2020.

The Maharashtra law, being hurriedly passed also comes at a time when the constitutional validity of similar anti-conversion laws across several states is already under challenge before the Supreme Court of India.

A batch of writ petitions –first filed by Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), Mumbai that is the lead petitioner in the Supreme Court– has been pending before the Supreme Court since 2020, raising fundamental constitutional questions about the scope of freedom of conscience, personal liberty, equality before the law, and the limits of State power in regulating religious conversion and interfaith relationships. Hearings in the matter that have happened intermittently with pressing demands made by CJP for an interim stay on the most egregious provisions are also scheduled today, March 11, 2026.

Originally filed against laws enacted in Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh, the petitions were later expanded—with the Court’s permission—to include similar statutes enacted in Chhattisgarh, Gujarat, Haryana, Jharkhand and Karnataka. As a result, the ongoing proceedings now concern nine state anti-conversion laws, each framed as a “Freedom of Religion” or “Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion” statute.

The petitions argue that while these laws are formally presented as safeguards against forced or fraudulent conversions, their design and implementation have created a legal regime that treats voluntary religious conversion as inherently suspicious, particularly when it occurs in the context of interfaith relationships or marriage.

Among the provisions under challenge are:

• mandatory prior declarations before a District Magistrate
• police inquiries into the reasons for conversion
• criminalisation of conversions associated with marriage
• third-party complaints by relatives or unrelated persons
• reversal of the burden of proof
• stringent bail provisions and enhanced penalties

According to the petitioners, these provisions subject the exercise of freedom of conscience to executive scrutiny and police investigation, opening the door to misuse and harassment, particularly against consenting adult couples and religious minorities.

In April 2025, the Supreme Court heard applications filed by CJP seeking interim relief against some of the most intrusive provisions, including those requiring prior declaration and enabling third-party complaints. The Court directed the Union Government and the concerned States to file responses, indicating that the matter raises serious constitutional questions requiring detailed consideration.

Several High Courts examining similar laws have already expressed concern regarding provisions that interfere with the autonomy of consenting adults. For instance, the Gujarat High Court stayed provisions of the Gujarat Freedom of Religion Act that criminalised interfaith marriages involving conversion, while the Madhya Pradesh High Court stayed provisions requiring prior declaration before authorities. Ironically, BJP-ruled states have played ping-pong with Constitutional Courts on such laws since 2012. In that year, a division bench of the Himachal Pradesh High Court (Justices Deepak Gupta and Rajiv Sharma) had struck down portions of an earlier version of the law in that state which sought to monitor (and penalise) the intention behind converting. The BJP was in power in Himachal Pradesh at the time.

Evangelical Fellowship of India vs. State of Himachal Pradesh 2013 (4) RCR 283 (Civil), which was a judgement authored by Justice Deepak Gupta, the Himachal Pradesh High Court court had set aside Section 4 of the HP Act of 2006 as ultra vires the Constitution and struck down Rules 3 and 5 thereunder and held that the right to privacy and the right to change the belief of a citizen cannot be taken away under the specious plea that public order may be affected. Arguing its case before the Supreme Court in early 2023, senior advocate Chander Uday Singh e pointed out that the 2006 Act was repealed and replaced by the Himachal Pradesh Freedom of Religion Act, 2019 in which provisions set aside by the High Court have been included.

The post Intrusive and Unconstitutional: CJP’s dissent note on Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Law appeared first on SabrangIndia.

As for the ‘Gujarat Freedom of Religion Act, 2003’, it is easily one of the most draconian ones in the history of any democracy in the world. Modi piloted this bill! During his election campaign in 2002, he ranted and raved against the Muslims and Christians and promised to bring in an anti-conversion law. True to his promise, he did so a few months later. At that time, the entire Opposition, in total disagreement with the bill, walked out of the Gujarat Assembly! It then took a full five years, until 2008, for the Gujarat Government to frame the necessary rules for the implementation of that law!

In February 2006, in keeping with letter and spirit of his anti-Constitutional law, at a Shabri Kumbh (a mass gathering of Hindus) programme in the Dangs (supported by the Gujarat Government), Modi warned the Christians “It is my constitutional duty to prevent conversions.  Our Constitution disapproves of them, and yet some people turn a blind eye.” Morari Bapu accused the Christians of bringing in planeloads of missionaries from the Vatican “who come here to carry out conversion activities but when we organise a ‘ghar wapsi’ why should it be termed as bad?”  Both Modi and Morari Bapu, unequivocally also endorsed the ‘ghar wapsi’ programmes, which were part of that Kumbh!

In 2009, the ‘Gujarat United Christian Forum for Human Rights’ and several other eminent citizens challenged the constitutional validity of the Gujarat Freedom of Religion Law, in the Gujarat High Court. A notice was sent by the Court to the Government to respond, they did not do so (obviously, they could not).The petitioners later withdrew their petition with an intention of making it stronger. In August 2021, the Gujarat High Court did not allow the Gujarat Government to make amendments to the already draconian law.

The bogey of ‘forced’ conversion and the introduction of anti – conversion laws (strangely called ‘Freedom of Religion’) are part of a well-oiled strategy of the ‘Sangh Parivar’ .These laws are blatantly unconstitutional. The States of Arunachal Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Gujarat, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, Jharkhand, Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh, Odisha, Rajasthan, Uttarakhand, and Uttar Pradesh already have these laws in place. On March 5, Maharashtra became the 13^th State to do so, when the Government of Maharashtra approved a draft anti-conversion bill requiring prior permission from a designated authority for religious conversion. Called the ‘Dharma Swatantrya Adhiniyam 2026 (Religious Freedom Act, 2026), the proposed law specifically aims to prevent individuals or organizations from carrying out forced or unlawful religious conversions. It seeks to protect individuals’ freedom of religion by prohibiting coercive or deceptive practices and imposing stringent penalties for violations.

On March 11, a collective of the Peoples Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL), Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP) and the Bombay Catholic Sabha(BCS) among thirty civil society and human rights organisations held a well-attended media conference at the Press Club in Mumbai. At the Conference, several well-known citizens lambasted the Maharashtra Government for introducing this draconian legislation and without due process.

In a detailed statement released on the day, the signatory organisations said, “the text of the draft law has not yet been made public, raising serious concerns about transparency, democratic process, and the potential implications of the legislation for fundamental rights. The participating civil society organisations emphasise that legislation with far-reaching implications for religious freedom, privacy, and personal liberty cannot be drafted and introduced without public consultation, scrutiny, and debate. A growing pattern of anti-conversion laws framed around “love jihad” The proposed Maharashtra law appears to follow the pattern of anti-conversion legislation already enacted in several states under the banner of “freedom of religion” laws. While framed as measures to prevent coercion or fraudulent religious conversions, these statutes have frequently been justified politically through the narrative of “love jihad”—a conspiracy theory alleging that Muslim men systematically lure Hindu women into marriage in order to convert them. This claim has no legal basis.” 

Further, the statement said, “The Maharashtra proposal also comes at a time when the constitutional validity of similar anti-conversion laws across several states is already under challenge before the Supreme Court of India. A batch of writ petitions –first filed by Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), Mumbai that is the lead petitioner in the Supreme Court– has been pending before the Supreme Court since 2020, raising fundamental constitutional questions about the scope of freedom of conscience, personal liberty, equality before the law, and the limits of State power in regulating religious conversion and interfaith relationships. Hearings in the matter that have happened intermittently with pressing demands made by CJP for an interim stay on the most egregious provisions are also scheduled today” 

The ‘bogey’ of forced conversion is once again being made into an issue! There is absolutely no evidence to substantiate this frivolous claim. It is a manipulative ploy, used by the Sanghis to defocus from the real issues, which grip the nation. India has proved to have a spineless Government, literally being held to ransom by the United States. We have lost our long-cherished identity as a non-aligned nation. The ordinary citizen is suffering due to a terrible scarcity of LPG (Smriti Irani seems to have done the disappearing trick instead of protesting!). The Epstein files have revealed names of some prominent Indians- a great shame to the nation. The Election Commission has proved to be a ‘caged parrot’ of the ruling regime! Corruption is the DNA of a Government, which has abdicated its responsibility to govern. Prices are skyrocketing, even as the poor become poorer and the crony capitalists friends of the regime continue to amass scandalous amounts of wealth. The common person is denied the legitimate right of ‘roti-kapda-makaan’ and Adivasis of ‘jal-jungle- jameen’.  The country is in the doldrums as never before! Besides, the ‘hindutvadis’ are a frightened group: they are aware that their so -called brand of ‘religiosity’ goes against human nature: the rights and freedoms, which are inalienable to every citizen.  Therefore, the ‘forced conversion’ gimmick is a convenient way to change the narrative and deflect from burning issues, which literally throttle the country today!

On November 14, 2022, a two-judge bench of the Supreme Court consisting of Justice M.R. Shah and Justice Hima Kohli observed that forced conversions may “ultimately affect the security of nation and freedom of religion and conscience of citizen.” The bench directed the Central Government to inform the Apex Court what steps it intends taking to curb deceitful or compulsory religious conversions. The bench was hearing a PIL by Ashwini Kumar Upadhyay, who has been filing several petitions of this kind in the past.  Upadhyay wants a law against ‘fraudulent religious conversion’ and ‘religious conversion by intimidation’, threatening, deceivingly luring through gifts and monetary benefits, as it offends Articles 14, 21, and 25.

Significantly, in April 2021, a three-judge bench of Justices Rohinton F Nariman, B.R. Gavai and Hrishikesh Roy had dismissed a similar petition by the Upadhyay himself and had even threatened to impose heavy costs if he persisted with the petition. The bench at that time had opined that any religious conversion law would be violative of the constitution as the constitution clearly allows joining of any religion of one’s choice and that is why the word “propagate” is in the Constitution. The bench termed “very harmful” the petition that asked a strict central law to check religious conversion and observed that adults are free to choose their faith. The bench also cautioned senior advocate Gopal Sankaranarayan, who represented Upadhyay in the matter, “What kind of a petition is this? This is a very harmful petition. If you are going to argue this, we are going to impose a heavy cost on you”, said Nariman; he added, “There is a reason why the word ‘propagate’ is there in the Constitution. You have to have some meaning for that word. There is no reason why somebody above 18 cannot choose one’s own religion or somebody else’s religion,” The petition was immediately withdrawn!

The point therefore is not whether one has the right ‘to convert another’; but whether a citizen of India, has the right to choose a religion of one’s choice. Article 25 of the Constitution of India unequivocally “guarantees the freedom of conscience, the freedom to profess, practice and propagate religion to all citizens”. Besides, Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, asserts that “Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance”.

As early as 1935, Dr. B. R.  Ambedkar made the most daring and path-breaking speech of his career, announcing that, because of the intransigence of privileged caste Hindus and the failure of a decade of nonviolent protests, he had decided to abandon Hinduism and to seek another faith. He urged the leaders at the Yeola Depressed Classes conference to consider their religious identity a choice, not a fact of destiny. In a highly emotional voice he said, “If you want to gain self-respect, change your religion. If you want to create a cooperating society, change your religion. If you want power, change your religion. If you want equality, change your religion. If you want independence, change your religion. If you want to make the world in which you live happy, change your religion”. About twenty years later, on 14 October 1956 (apparently the date on which King Ashoka became a Buddhist) Ambedkar together with his wife and at least 365,000 of his followers, mainly Dalits, decided to exit Hinduism and embrace Buddhism.

Is then an adult citizen of India free to choose the religion of one’s choice? The Supreme Court has to act with alacrity, maintaining the unconstitutionality of these draconian laws and strike them down in toto once and for all! Will it have the courage to take on the ‘hindutva’ brigade? That perhaps is another matter! 

March 14, 2026 

(The author is a human rights, reconciliation & peace activist and writer. Contact: cedricprakash@gmail.com )

Related:

35 civil society groups oppose Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion law, warn of threat to women’s autonomy and constitutional freedoms

Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Bill: Legislating suspicion in the name of “love jihad”

The post Draconian Law! appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Under the draft law, any person wishing to convert to another religion would be required to seek prior permission from a designated authority and provide a 60-day notice, after which the conversion must be registered within 25 days or risk being declared null and void as per The Indian Express. The legislation further mandates that if a relative of the person converting alleges coercion, the police are required to register a First Information Report (FIR) and initiate an investigation. Importantly, offences under the proposed statute are non-bailable, dramatically raising the stakes for those accused.

While the government has framed the law as a safeguard against forced conversions, the political messaging surrounding the bill reveals a much narrower ideological framing. Maharashtra minister Nitesh Rane explicitly described the proposed law as one that would prevent “forcibly marrying and converting Hindu girls,” repeatedly invoking the conspiracy theory of “love jihad” while speaking to the media in Mumbai, reported The Indian Express. The term itself has no legal recognition: the Ministry of Home Affairs has previously informed Parliament that Indian law contains no definition of “love jihad.”

A law framed as protection, designed for surveillance

The structure of the proposed law reflects a deeper pattern visible in anti-conversion statutes enacted across several Indian states. While ostensibly directed at preventing coercion or fraudulent conversions, the operational design of these laws effectively places state surveillance over deeply personal decisions relating to faith and marriage.

By requiring advance notice to authorities before conversion, the law transforms a matter of personal conscience into a regulated administrative act. Such provisions have been widely criticised by jurists, activists and constitutional scholars alike because they invert the principle of religious freedom under Article 25 of the Constitution of India, which protects not only the right to practise and profess religion but also the freedom to adopt and change one’s faith.

Further, the provision enabling relatives to trigger criminal investigations significantly expands the scope for social interference in private decisions. In practice, similar provisions in other states have enabled families, vigilante groups, and politically motivated actors to initiate criminal proceedings against consenting adult couples.

A pattern across states

Maharashtra’s proposed legislation does not emerge in isolation. Laws regulating religious conversions already exist in multiple states including Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Gujarat, Uttarakhand, Karnataka, Himachal Pradesh, Odisha, Haryana, Jharkhand, Arunachal Pradesh, and Chhattisgarh.

However, multiple civil society groups and rights organisations have documented how these statutes are frequently invoked not to address genuine cases of coercion but to police interfaith relationships and minority religious practices.

Reports compiled by the Citizens for Justice and Peace, also the lead petitioner against the constitutional challenge to anti-conversion laws in the Supreme Court, indicate that since the enactment of the Uttar Pradesh Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion of Religion Act, 2021, dozens of cases have been filed against interfaith couples—often after complaints by unrelated third parties or vigilante groups. Many of these cases have later collapsed for lack of evidence, but not before the accused were subjected to arrest, detention, and intense social stigma.

The constitutional challenge before the Supreme Court

These patterns have already triggered a broad constitutional challenge before the Supreme Court of India, where several petitions contest the legality of anti-conversion statutes across multiple states.

One of the principal challenges has been first brought by Citizens for Justice and Peace in 2020 itself, which argues that such laws violate fundamental rights including personal liberty, freedom of conscience, and the right to choose one’s partner. During hearings in April 2025, Senior Advocate C. U. Singh told the Court that the statutes were being “weaponised” to target interfaith couples and minority communities, urging the Court to intervene and prevent further misuse. Despite repeated attempts by the organisation to get the matter listed for early hearing, including interim prayers for a stay on the most egregious provisions of the law, the SC has not found time to address these concerns.

The Union government, represented by Solicitor General Tushar Mehta, disputed these claims made by the petitioners and has argued that states possess legitimate authority to enact such legislation. The bench led by Chief Justice Sanjiv Khanna directed the Union government to examine the petitions and respond to the concerns raised at the hearing held on April 16, 2025.

The Court is currently examining whether these statutes violate constitutional guarantees of religious freedom, privacy, and personal autonomy, particularly in light of landmark decisions such as Justice K. S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India, which recognised privacy as a fundamental right.

Detailed report may be read here.

The social climate behind the law

The proposed legislation has also emerged in the context of intensifying campaigns by Hindutva organisations demanding stricter laws against religious conversions. Over the past several months, coordinated demonstrations have been organised across districts in Maharashtra by groups such as the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti, calling for the enactment of a stringent anti-conversion law.

At the same time, minority groups have warned that such laws are already contributing to an atmosphere of suspicion and intimidation. Christian organisations in Maharashtra have repeatedly raised concerns about vigilante groups disrupting prayer meetings and accusing pastors of forced conversions. According to figures compiled by the United Christian Forum, hundreds of incidents involving harassment or violence against Christians have been reported across India in recent years.

In April 2023, more than 40 Christian organisations gathered at Azad Maidan in Mumbai to protest what they described as a growing pattern of false allegations of conversion used to justify attacks on churches, pastors, and congregations. Demonstrators argued that anti-conversion laws have often functioned as a “Damocles’ sword” over minority communities, enabling vigilante groups to pressure police into filing cases even where no evidence of coercion exists.

Gujarat’s attempt of policing relationships

The Gujarat government is preparing to amend the rules under the Gujarat Registration of Marriages Act, 2006 in a move that significantly tightens state oversight of marriage registration and introduces mandatory parental involvement—changes that could undermine adult autonomy and further legitimise social control over interfaith and inter-caste relationships.

Addressing the Gujarat Legislative Assembly on February 20, Deputy Chief Minister Harsh Sanghvi said the proposed amendments are aimed at protecting women, preventing fraud, and making the system more transparent. While stating that the government has “no objection to genuine love marriages,” Sanghvi framed the proposed changes as necessary to prevent deception and exploitation, invoking the controversial narrative of men allegedly concealing their religious identity to lure women into relationships. Referring to such cases, he remarked that authorities would act strictly if individuals “pose as someone else” to trap women, as per Hindustan Times.

Sanghvi also invoked concerns about “love jihad,” a term widely used by right-wing groups to allege a conspiracy by Muslim men to target Hindu women through romantic relationships. The term, however, has repeatedly been rejected by courts and has no official recognition by the Union government, with several investigations failing to substantiate claims of any organised conspiracy.

Despite this, the proposed regulatory overhaul appears to embed many of the anxieties that underpin the “love jihad” narrative within the administrative framework of marriage registration. According to Sanghvi, the amendments are intended to prevent identity concealment and coercion while protecting what he described as “Sanatan traditions” and Indian marriage customs—phrasing that has raised concerns among civil liberties advocates about the increasing conflation of state policy with majoritarian cultural norms.

One of the most contentious proposals is the introduction of mandatory parental notification. Under the proposed system, when couples—particularly those entering into love marriages or eloping—apply for marriage registration, the bride’s parents will be formally notified within ten days. Applicants will be required to submit the Aadhaar details and verified address of the parents, and the issuance of the marriage certificate will be delayed by at least 40 days from the date of application to allow time for verification, consultation, or objections.

One can argue that such provisions effectively place adult relationships under familial surveillance and may expose couples—especially those in interfaith or inter-caste relationships—to intimidation or coercion. Under the existing framework, couples are able to register marriages by submitting basic documentation and witnesses without the need to inform their parents, reflecting the legal principle that consenting adults are free to marry without external approval.

The proposed amendments also seek to tighten documentation requirements, mandating the submission of Aadhaar cards, birth certificates, school leaving certificates, photographs, and wedding invitation cards where available. Witnesses from both sides would also have to provide photographs and Aadhaar details. In addition, the government plans to shift the registration process away from lower-level revenue offices and create a dedicated online portal to monitor registrations—particularly those categorised as love marriages.

Sanghvi justified the move by citing alleged irregularities uncovered during investigations in Panchmahal district, where authorities claim fraudulent marriage registrations were issued. Referring to villages such as Kankodakoi and Nathkuwa, he alleged that hundreds of nikah certificates had been issued despite there being no Muslim families residing in those villages. While the government says action has been taken in such cases, isolated administrative irregularities are increasingly being used to justify sweeping regulatory changes that disproportionately affect interfaith relationships.

As per Times of India, the amendments follow three months of consultations led by Law and Justice Minister Kaushik Vekeriya, during which about 30 meetings were held with community representatives. Among those welcoming the move is Patidar leader Dinesh Bambhaniya, who said the proposal addresses long-standing demands raised by caste organisations through rallies and memorandums.

However, the proposed amendments also appear to reflect a growing alignment between state policy and local social enforcement mechanisms that have emerged across parts of Gujarat. Even before the changes have been enacted into law, several villages and caste bodies have begun enforcing informal codes regulating how members of their communities marry.

In some areas, these community resolutions have hardened into quasi-legal declarations threatening couples who marry without parental approval with social boycott, ostracism, or exclusion from public life. From gram sabha resolutions in Kheda district to directives issued by caste organisations representing Patidar and Thakor communities, the common justification offered is that marriages without family consent threaten tradition, destabilise social order, and endanger women.

According to Times of India, a recent resolution adopted by the Gram Sabha in Nand village reportedly imposes a total social boycott on couples who marry despite opposition from their families. Such couples may be barred from using community facilities, attending religious gatherings, or participating in social events. The resolution also introduces restrictions on wedding and funeral expenses, bans DJs and what it calls “objectionable songs,” and prescribes fines for violations.

Taken together, the developments in Gujarat, along with Maharashtra, also appear to reflect a broader national trend in which state governments are increasingly seeking to regulate intimate relationships through legal and administrative mechanisms. By placing parental consent and community norms at the centre of the marriage registration process, the changes could erode the constitutional principle that consenting adults have the fundamental right to choose their partners—an autonomy repeatedly affirmed by courts in decisions protecting interfaith and inter-caste marriages.

Policing intimacy and identity

The deeper danger of these laws lies not only in their legal provisions but in the social narratives they reinforce. By framing interfaith relationships as conspiracies or threats, such legislation legitimises public suspicion of couples who cross religious boundaries.

This dynamic is particularly visible in the persistent invocation of the “love jihad” narrative, which portrays Muslim men as orchestrating a coordinated campaign to convert Hindu women through romantic relationships. Despite repeated claims by political actors, no investigative agency in India has produced credible evidence of any organised conspiracy of this nature, a point acknowledged in Parliament by the Union government itself.

Yet the political potency of the narrative continues to drive legislative action. At its core, the controversy reflects a deeper constitutional dilemma: whether the state’s role is to protect individual autonomy and minority rights or to police these in the name of social order and cultural anxieties.

Related:

Survey of Churches, anti conversion laws only empower radical mobs: Archbishop Peter Machado

Hearing in batch of CJP-led petitions challenging state Anti-Conversion laws defers in SC; Interim relief applications pending since April 2025

Allahabad HC: Quashes FIR under draconian UP ‘Anti-Conversion Act’, warns state authorities against lodging ‘Mimeographic Style’ FIRs

September of Fear: Targeted Violence against Christians in Rajasthan exposes pattern of harassment after Anti-Conversion Bill

The post Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Bill: Legislating suspicion in the name of “love jihad” appeared first on SabrangIndia.

According to Mid-Day, the Maharashtra government, through Revenue Minister Chandrashekhar Bawankule, announced stricter norms for issuing birth and death certificates, particularly targeting “foreign nationals residing illegally.” The move followed allegations — amplified by BJP leader Kirit Somaiya — that thousands of birth certificates had been “fraudulently issued to Bangladeshi nationals.” A Special Investigation Team (SIT) was constituted, and a three-tier verification process introduced for delayed applications. Criminal prosecution was promised for those submitting allegedly “fake” documents.

On its face, preventing document fraud is a legitimate administrative objective. However, the framing of the issue — repeatedly tethered to “illegal Bangladeshis” — suggests that what is unfolding is not merely procedural tightening, but a securitised response to migration anxieties. More than anything else, privileging ruling party (read BJP) presence or dominance in the exercise makes it already suspect given the shrill (and brazenly anti-minority tones) in the party’s sloganeering on the question.

From administrative reform to political theatre

Reporting by CNBC-TV18 details that the BJP-led Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation cancelled 237 allegedly fake birth certificates and registered eight FIRs. Mayor Ritu Tawde publicly warned –on the very day of her election as Mayor of Mumbai–of a crackdown on “illegal Bangladeshis,” linking document irregularities to encroachment drives and street vendor verification.

The rhetorical shift is telling. What began as an investigation into possible irregularities in ward-level issuance of certificates has evolved into a broader political narrative about infiltration, encroachment, and demographic anxiety. Opposition leaders, including Uddhav Thackeray, questioned whether immigration enforcement falls within the municipal corporation’s mandate — a point also noted in CNBC-TV18’s coverage. Under India’s constitutional scheme, immigration control is squarely within the Union’s domain. The municipal body’s sweeping pronouncements risk conflating administrative lapses with nationality-based suspicion.

The Times of India reported that suspended civic officials had issued birth certificates for children older than one year without court orders — clearly beyond their statutory authority. That administrative overreach requires accountability. But the same report also highlighted systemic issues: hospitals failing to submit birth details within 21 days, procedural ambiguity at the ward level, and the absence of a standard operating procedure. These institutional gaps complicate –and even lay bare–the over-simplistic narrative of organised “infiltration mafias.”

Legal obligations under the registration regime

As The Indian Express clarified, under the Registration of Births and Deaths Act, all births in civic, government, or private hospitals must be registered irrespective of nationality. This is not a discretionary welfare benefit — it is a statutory obligation tied to identity, dignity, and access to rights. The same report noted that adult applicants require background verification, but infants born in hospitals must be registered without regard to citizenship.

This distinction is critical. Birth registration is a matter of civil documentation, not immigration adjudication. Blurring the two risks undermining India’s obligations under domestic law and international human rights standards, including the child’s right to identity.

The state government’s resolution — reported by Hindustan Times — now prohibits issuance of birth certificates based solely on documents such as school-leaving certificates, Aadhaar cards, or PAN cards, and mandates police verification, talathi reports, and multi-level scrutiny for delayed applications. While greater scrutiny for delayed registrations may be justified in cases of demonstrable fraud, the cumulative effect of police involvement, publication requirements, and criminal prosecution threatens to convert a civil registration process into a quasi-criminal proceeding.

The risk of overreach and chilling effects

Sweeping reviews of all birth records since 2016, as reported by The Indian Express, represent an extraordinary administrative exercise. Such retrospective scrutiny risks casting suspicion over entire communities, particularly those already subject to profiling. The political language accompanying the drive — references to “mafia raj,” “infiltrators,” and demographic threat — compounds that risk.

In constitutional democracies, administrative reform must be proportionate and evidence-based. If specific officers exceeded their authority or accepted forged hospital documentation, targeted disciplinary and criminal action is appropriate. But when enforcement rhetoric singles out a nationality or ethnic category, it veers toward collective suspicion.

There is also a structural danger here: by insisting on police verification and multiple layers of approval for delayed registrations, the state may inadvertently make birth registration inaccessible to vulnerable populations — including internal migrants, the urban poor, and those born outside formal medical settings. The more onerous the process, the greater the incentive to remain undocumented — a perverse outcome for a system ostensibly designed to ensure accurate records.

Most critically, such subjective and selective pressures over what must be a routine and compulsory exercise, runs the risk of pushing Mumbai and Maharashtra back on registration compliance. India has not yet reached a 100 per cent mark in birth registration. Besides as UNICEF tells us “Birth registration is an essential prerequisite for legal identity and the fulfilment of children’s rights. By registering children at birth and providing a birth certificate – a passport to lifelong protection – their exposure to rights violations are minimized and their access to essential services are enabled.” Moreover, a “Functioning civil registration systems are the main vehicles through which a legal identity for all can be achieved. Such systems produce vital statistics, including those on birth registration, which are foundational for achieving sustained human and economic development. While most countries have mechanisms in place for registering births, systematic recording remains a serious challenge, highlighting the urgent need to improve and strengthen civil registration and vital statistics.”

Governance failure reframed as security crisis

Several media reports note technical glitches in the central registration portal and backlog accumulation during certain periods. Administrative dysfunction, however, is being reframed as evidence of organised foreign infiltration. This shift deflects attention from institutional reform toward securitised spectacle.

If undocumented migration is indeed a pressing concern, the responsibility for border management lies with the Union government. Municipal cancellation of certificates does not resolve border control failures. It cannot be ignored that the political spotlight on alleged “illegal Bangladeshis” coincides with the BJP’s control of the civic body — raising questions about whether document fraud is being instrumentalised as a governance narrative.

The constitutional stakes

Birth certificates are foundational identity documents. They enable access to education, healthcare, property rights, and citizenship documentation. When the state transforms their issuance into a policing exercise infused with demographic suspicion, it risks eroding procedural fairness and equal protection.

Fraud must be investigated. Officials who acted beyond their statutory authority must face consequences. But the line between lawful scrutiny and discriminatory overreach is thin — and easily crossed when political messaging foregrounds nationality rather than administrative integrity.

The current measures in Maharashtra, as reflected across reporting by press and media mentioned above, reveal more than a crackdown on paperwork irregularities. They illustrate how bureaucratic processes can become sites of political contestation — and how civil documentation regimes, if weaponised, can deepen rather than resolve anxieties around migration and belonging.

In the long term, the integrity of the registration system will depend not on securitised rhetoric, but on transparent procedures, clear statutory limits, accountability mechanisms, and a firm commitment to non-discrimination. Without these safeguards, the tightening of norms risks tightening something far more fragile: the constitutional promise of equal protection under law.

Related:

Concerns rise along Assam’s escalating pushbacks, 33 additional alleged Bangladeshis “pushed back”

Harassment by Delhi Police, blatant extortion & human rights’ violation in process of identification of “illegal Bangladeshi immigrants”: Brinda Karat to HM Amit Shah

Former MP Kirit Somaiya labels Mumbai’s Muslim community as ‘Bangladeshi’

Bordering on illegality? 18 alleged Bangladeshis “pushed back” without due process, Legal challenge filed in High Court

Deported in Silence: India’s mass expulsions of alleged Bangladeshis without due process

The post Policing Identity: Maharashtra’s birth certificate crackdown and the politics of belonging appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The official who spoke to the media, The Times of India and NDTV said Asha Santosh Kiranga (24), resident of Aaldandi Tola in Etapalli taluka in Gadchiroli district, was nine months pregnant.

“Her native Aaldandi Tola village is cut off from the main road, with no delivery facilities available there. The patient, hoping for timely help, set out on January 1 with her husband, trudging 6 kilometres through jungle paths to her sister’s home in Petha. However, the ordeal in her heavy, advanced stage of pregnancy took a toll on her body,” he said.

“On the morning of January 2, she began experiencing severe labour pains. She was rushed by ambulance to Kali Ammal Hospital in Hedri. Though the doctors decided on a caesarean operation, it was too late by then. The baby had already died in the womb. Due to rising blood pressure, the woman too passed away soon after,” the official said. When the media contacted authorities for information, Gadchiroli District Health Officer Dr Pratap Shinde said the woman had been registered through the ASHA workers.

“The sudden labour pains and complications likely arose due to walking. Doctors tried to save her, but were unsuccessful. A detailed report has been called for from the taluka health officer, and the matter will be investigated,” he said.

(Except for the story were published from a syndicated feed)

Related:

Gadchiroli: Four-and-a-half-year-old tribal girl raped by peon of a primary health unit, physicians missing, left bleeding for several hours without medical attention

Labour rights, health of workers hit in the name of “reform”: PUCL Maharashtra

The MVA promise to uphold right to healthcare in Maharashtra: A visionary approach to equitable and comprehensive health access

The post Gadchiroli, Maharashtra: Pregnant Woman walks 6 km from village for childbirth, dies appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), along with women’s rights groups, constitutional lawyers, and minority rights organisations, has repeatedly cautioned that such laws—already operational in several BJP-ruled states—have functioned less as safeguards against coercion and more as tools for communal profiling, moral policing, and the criminalisation of adult consensual relationships. Maharashtra is now being pushed to replicate a model that is not only deeply abusive in practice but also under active constitutional challenge before the Supreme Court of India.

It is essential to note that previously, the Maharashtra Government had issued a Government resolution on December 13, 2022, following the gruesome murder of Shraddha Walkar in Delhi allegedly by her inter-faith live-in partner, forming a committee to provide a platform to ‘counsel, communicate and resolve’ issues between couples and families. According to the GR, the committee can seek information of both registered and unregistered marriages. Furthermore, the committee can intervene at the behest of any person, which the plea alleges is a breach of the couple’s privacy “especially when two consenting adults are married to each other”. A challenge against the same, filed by CJP, remains pending in the Bombay High Court. Details of the petition may be read here.

A state-wide, synchronized campaign- Event by event

The scale and coordination of the recent mobilisations are striking. On November 27, in Jalgaon, the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti organised an ‘Anti–Love Jihad’ protest where speakers openly demanded that the Maharashtra Chief Minister ensure the passage of an anti-conversion law in the upcoming winter session of the Assembly. The demand was framed as a matter of urgency and inevitability. Organisers claimed support from over 35 organisations, cited more than 300 citizen statements, and referenced a petition purportedly carrying 15,000 signatures—figures repeatedly invoked to manufacture the impression of overwhelming public consensus.

As the Assembly session approached, the campaign intensified. On December 5, in Amravati, far-right organisations led by the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti submitted a memorandum to the District Collector, addressed to the Chief Minister and Deputy Chief Minister, demanding a ‘strict’ law against the alleged conspiracy of ‘love jihad’. A signature campaign claiming the support of over 3,000 citizens accompanied the submission, making explicit that the objective was legislative pressure during the session rather than redressal of any specific grievance.

On December 7, protests were held across multiple districts. In Dapoli, Ratnagiri, far-right groups once again alleged a systematic conspiracy of ‘love jihad’ and demanded immediate legislative action. The framing was uniform: inter-faith relationships were projected as demographic warfare, and state inaction was portrayed as civilisational betrayal.

The same day, in Akola, the campaign descended into overt communal abuse. At an anti–‘love jihad’ protest, a Hindu Janajagruti Samiti member used derogatory slurs against Muslims—calling them “cowards who used to be Hindus” and “jalli-topiwallas”—and invoked the trope of ‘gaddar Hindus’. Such speech is not incidental; it reveals the communal animus that animates the demand for criminal legislation and signals how such laws are likely to be enforced on the ground.

Also on December 7, in Kothrud, Pune, at a Vishwa Hindu Parishad–Bajrang Dal ‘Shaurya Diwas’ event, speakers claimed that only organisations like the Bajrang Dal could stop ‘love jihad’, religious conversions, and cow slaughter. This assertion effectively erased the boundary between state authority and vigilante power, suggesting that the proposed law is intended to legitimise extra-legal social control.

On December 8, the campaign expanded simultaneously into administrative offices and mainstream political platforms. In Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar, delegations led by the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti, alongside BJP leader Kamlesh Katariya, submitted requests at District Magistrate offices across Maharashtra, uniformly urging enactment of a ‘strict’ anti–love jihad law.

The same day, at Hotel Center Point, Nagpur, during a ‘Majha Maharashtra’ event organised by Anand Bazaar Patrika, BJP MLA Nitesh Rane amplified these conspiracies from a mainstream political stage. He invoked ‘love jihad’, ‘land jihad’, and ‘halal jihad’, and further referenced ‘ghazwa-e-Hind’, explicitly linking these ideas to terrorism. Such rhetoric performs a crucial legitimising function: it converts fringe paranoia into a perceived security threat, thereby manufacturing public consent for exceptional criminal law.

Core Criticisms of Anti-Conversion Laws: Why civil liberties groups oppose them

CJP and other civil liberties organisations, women’s rights groups, and constitutional scholars have consistently raised serious objections to anti-conversion laws across states—objections that apply with equal, if not greater, force to the proposed Maharashtra legislation.

1. Criminalisation of consent and autonomy: These laws operate on the presumption that adult women—particularly Hindu women—are incapable of making informed choices about relationships and faith. By treating consent as inherently suspect, the laws directly contradict Supreme Court jurisprudence recognising decisional autonomy, bodily integrity, and the right to choose one’s partner.
2. Vague and overbroad offences: Terms such as ‘allurement’, ‘undue influence’, and ‘fraud’ are undefined or expansively defined, allowing ordinary acts—companionship, emotional support, marriage, or assistance—to be reinterpreted as criminal inducement. This violates the principle that criminal offences must be narrowly and clearly defined.
3. Burden-shifting and presumption of guilt: Many anti-conversion laws invert the foundational criminal law principle of presumption of innocence by shifting the burden onto the accused to prove that no coercion occurred. This is constitutionally suspect and procedurally unjust.
4. Third-party complaints and vigilante policing: By allowing relatives—or even unrelated persons—to file complaints, these laws institutionalise vigilante interference in intimate relationships. In practice, police action is often triggered not by the alleged convert but by ideological organisations or hostile family members.
5. Discriminatory enforcement: Empirical evidence from other states demonstrates that enforcement disproportionately targets Muslim men and inter-faith couples, entrenching communal profiling and selective policing.
6. Chilling Effect on Religious Freedom: Mandatory prior notice requirements and intrusive inquiries deter individuals from exercising their freedom of conscience, effectively converting a fundamental right into a regulated privilege.

CJP has repeatedly warned that these laws do not prevent coercion; they prevent choice.

Pending Petitions Before the Supreme Court: Laws under constitutional cloud

Importantly, CJP’s challenge to anti-conversion laws in several states—including Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, Uttarakhand, and Gujarat—is currently pending before the Supreme Court of India. Multiple petitions contend that these statutes violate core constitutional guarantees under Articles 14, 15, 19, 21, and 25.

Detailed report may be read here.

Petitioners have argued that the laws:

• Undermine the right to privacy and decisional autonomy recognised in K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India
• Criminalise adult consensual relationships, contrary to Shafin Jahan v. Asokan K.M. and Lata Singh v. State of UP
• Treat women as lacking agency, in violation of equality and dignity
• Enable arbitrary, discriminatory, and communalised policing
• Invert the presumption of innocence by shifting the burden of proof

The Supreme Court has been urged to examine whether the state can subject personal faith, marriage, and belief to prior scrutiny and criminal sanction in the absence of demonstrable harm. These challenges remain pending, rendering the legal framework that Maharashtra is being urged to adopt constitutionally unstable.

Manufacturing panic, normalising surveillance, reshaping criminal law

The Maharashtra campaign exemplifies a broader shift in law making: from evidence-based policy to ideology-driven criminalisation. There is no credible data demonstrating widespread forced conversions through marriage in Maharashtra. Existing criminal law already addresses coercion, cheating, kidnapping, trafficking, and sexual exploitation. The demand for a new law is therefore not remedial but symbolic—designed to signal dominance, discipline intimacy, and legitimise social surveillance.

By framing adult women as perpetual victims, these campaigns rein scribe patriarchal control. By singling out Muslims as conspirators, they normalise collective suspicion. By demanding preventive criminalisation, they erode the basic premise that criminal law punishes acts, not identities or intentions.

What is at stake for Maharashtra

If enacted, an anti-conversion law in Maharashtra will not remain a neutral legal instrument. It will embolden vigilante groups, legitimise moral policing, and place police machinery at the service of ideological enforcement. For inter-faith couples, religious minorities, and women asserting autonomy, the consequences are likely to be immediate and severe: arrests, harassment, prolonged incarceration, and social ostracisation.

As CJP has consistently argued, the real question is not whether forced conversions should be prevented—existing law already does so—but whether the state can be permitted to criminalise choice itself. Maharashtra today stands at a constitutional crossroads: between safeguarding liberty and importing a legal regime already notorious for abuse and under active constitutional scrutiny. The street pressure is loud. The constitutional warning signs are louder still.

Related:

Gujarat High Court Widened Anti-Conversion Law: ‘Victims’ can be prosecuted as offenders

K’taka HC: Ruling on state’s ‘anti-conversion’ law, lays down precedent against potential weaponisation by third-party vigilantes

Supreme Court seeks states’ replies on pleas for stay of anti-conversion laws, to decide on interim stay after six weeks

“Anti-conversion laws being weaponised”: CJP seeks interim relief against misuse of anti-conversion laws

The post Street Pressure, State Power, and the Criminalisation of Choice: How Hindutva groups are pushing Maharashtra’s anti-conversion law appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Looking at her 18-month-old daughter, Ayesha said, “Nurul wanted a girl, and here she is, but he is not. We were both only children. We didn’t want our child to grow up alone, but now she will. When she was born, so much was happening. No help reached me, but rumours spread that I was living comfortably with money. My in-laws abandoned me. My parents were under strain too. Some even blamed me for Nurul’s death. Then, the worst happened—my milk dried up just a month after Ashnoor’s birth. Breastfeeding stopped completely. The child had already lost her father’s shadow, and now this.” Ashnoor babbled on, pointing at her milk bottle.

Samreen’s daughter, two years old and a few months older than Ashnoor, has seen her father, Aamir. She played with him, teased him, and tired him out. She knows his face well. But she also saw him hanging from a fan, overwhelmed by a strangers’ cruelty. She doesn’t understand what it means. She asks Samreen, “Abbu went to the village. When will he come back?” Samreen pulls her close and pats her. What else can she do? Her wound is still fresh, from May 2025. In Latur’s Maidan Chowk, Aamir was beaten, called a Pakistani. They grabbed his collar, his belt, humiliated him, and recorded it on their phones. The label “Pakistani” shattered him. The next night, after 8 p.m., he took his life. It was a Sunday. Samreen said, “Every night from 8 to 9, I feel restless. Sad. How can I sleep in that room after his death? I stayed with my in-laws for 40 days, never sleeping before 3 a.m. Now, sometimes, I feel nothing at all. No one is truly yours. You carry your pain alone. Sundays used to excite me; now they scare me. Sometimes I think it was all a bad dream, and maybe it’s better that it broke.” Her voice trembles slightly. Her eyes well up. She removes her glasses, wipes her eyes gently, and with a mix of anger and detachment, says, “No one who promised help actually helped. Not even the police. Now I think, will doing anything bring him back? No. So I’m just trying to hold myself together.” For a moment, she stares into space, as if wrestling with herself.

“The situation in Vishalgad and Gajapur has been tense for years,” said Shaheen Mujawar from Vishalgad, her voice tinged with fear. “It gets worse during festivals like Shiv Jayanti and Mahashivratri.” Aggressive sloganeering by some groups creates fear and unease. “Last year, on July 14, 2024, the violence during the so-called Vishalgad anti-encroachment campaign still haunts us. Some slogans were so offensive, it’s hard to repeat them publicly. After that, many children on the fort fell ill. Women went silent. For days, they didn’t know what was happening. Many couldn’t sleep at night. With no jobs now, even salt feels expensive, and the stress on women is immense. That day, just the news of the attack gave one of our relatives a heart attack, and he died on the spot. This year, on July 14, the same fear returned. Sixty percent of the people on the fort left voluntarily. No one wants to die bit by bit,” Shaheen said, her words vivid, as if reliving it all.

In India, a country rich with diversity, communal tensions between religious groups sometimes turn violent. In recent years, openly provocative speeches against Muslims have increased. Muslim men are targeted, attacked, and killed in the name of cow protection. Social media is used to stir public anger, and Muslim men’s lives are taken coldly. Taking a life has become as casual as throwing mud online. But the wounds from these mob attacks aren’t just physical. They deeply affect the families left behind, especially women. Ayesha and Samreen, both in their thirties, lost their husbands to hate-filled attacks. Women like Shaheen have faced the terror of violent mobs and death. These events leave lasting scars on women’s minds. Social stigma, institutional failures, and financial strain add to their burdens. These factors undoubtedly impact their mental state. This report tries to understand how.

Ayesha Shikalgar’s Story: The Pain That Can’t Be Explained

I never imagined that Hindu-Muslim hatred could reach a small village like Pusesavali. Nurul Hasan was the president of the village’s Ganpati committee. Most of his friends were Hindus. Sometimes, during my pregnancy, I’d crave something sweet at night. Nurul’s friend owned a shop, and he’d open it after hours just for me. That’s how close their friendship was. But the same people he celebrated Ganeshotsav with, the ones he called friends, are now his accused killers, Ayesha says, her voice trembling with anger. She asks some hard questions: “No matter what happened, what did anyone gain by taking an innocent life? These people who chant Shivaji Maharaj’s name—what will they tell him? They didn’t just take a life; they destroyed my entire family!” Her voice rises slightly. “Would Shivaji Maharaj approve of such killers? There’s no reason to oppose anyone’s faith, but shouldn’t devotion bring joy to others? Two minutes of rage changed my life’s struggles and sorrows. At 8 p.m., he was with me, our private life just beginning. By morning, my life, my world, became public—caught in the media’s hands. But there was no space left to express what was in my heart. I couldn’t even grieve Nurul’s death properly. The pain of losing a person, that agony, I can’t put into words. It’s a strain I still feel, and now, whenever I see a saffron flag, my heart skips a beat.” A faint tension lingers on her face, framed by her headscarf.

Nurul Hasan, 31, was one of the educated Muslim youths in Pusesavali. In a village of 1,300 families, less than 10% are Muslim. Most run small businesses—grocery stores, mobile shops, or auto parts stores. Nurul was a civil engineer, taking on construction contracts and renting out his JCB machine. He was the sole breadwinner for his parents, their only child. He and Ayesha were married in November 2022. On September 10, 2023, Hindu nationalist groups from Pusesavali and nearby villages started violence, claiming a Muslim youth’s social media post had hurt religious sentiments. They attacked Muslim homes, shops, and mosques. The youth who posted wasn’t even in the village that day. Police later found his phone was hacked, and no evidence was found against him. But by then, the mob’s attack had changed Ayesha’s life. She was five months pregnant at the time. Just the day before, they’d gone for her sonography. Nurul had wanted a girl and had chosen the name Ashnoor, blending their names together.

After her husband’s death, Ayesha faced what many Indian widows do. She was blamed for Nurul’s death. Her in-laws said she was responsible because Nurul was praying on time while living with her. They claimed his going for namaz led to his death. Their words were a huge blow to her. Ayesha, a lawyer by profession, says, “It wasn’t even four days after his death, and they started saying such things. It broke my heart. I started facing mental distress.” The government and some Muslim groups collected aid for her, but none reached her. “I was in iddat, the four-month seclusion Muslim widows observe. I heard people were helping, but nothing came to me. I thought maybe my in-laws got it. Then rumours spread that Nurul was in debt and the money went to clear it. I had to publicly clarify he had no debts. I didn’t want aid, but I wanted the rumours to stop. My in-laws even said I took the money. That led to family disputes. They turned away from me. When I gave birth, they didn’t even come to see their only granddaughter. When I went to their house, they’d left for my mother-in-law’s village for good. They cut me off completely, as if their son’s death made me a stranger. I was fighting society’s rumours the one hand and my own family on the other. It was so stressful.”

Around that time, the stress took a toll on her father. He had a heart attack, his diabetes worsened, and gangrene forced doctors to amputate part of his leg. “No one was there to help. Even my own family turned away. The women’s WhatsApp group in Pusesavali removed me. They mocked me as a ‘gold digger.’ We didn’t even have money for my father’s treatment. People thought we were rich. Some even said I was living lavishly off my husband’s death money,” Ayesha says with a bitter laugh. There’s no anger on her face, just disappointment. She continues calmly, “When I needed society’s support the most, they abandoned me. They excluded me from family functions. They attacked my character. That defamation broke me. My mental health deteriorated. I started getting dizzy. I lost track of what was happening around me. My daughter needed her mother’s milk, but the stress dried it up within a month. It was such an injustice to her. My weight shot past 100 kilos. I developed thyroid issues, diabetes, and high blood pressure. We didn’t even have money for food. My father has some farmland, but no other income. People kept saying I had so much money—well, I’m still waiting for it. Maybe someone’s words will come true,” she says, laughing at her situation. It’s clear Ayesha has found the strength to smile despite her circumstances.

Even two years later, in August 2025, when we met, the financial struggle persists. Her father was hospitalised again. To manage the back-and-forth between hospital and home, her family moved to her uncle’s place in Miraj. Her father’s sugar levels were high, and his mental health had deteriorated too. Ayesha is trying to cope. She wonders if Nurul were alive, would she have to live this nomadic life. She’s also frustrated that she hasn’t gotten enough information about her husband’s case. She had to use her contacts to even get the charge sheet.

As she tries to move forward, Ayesha faces more challenges. “If I’m happy, people say I’m enjoying life after my husband’s death because I got money. If I’m sad, they say it is only because I didn’t get my in-laws’ property. If I focus on my daughter, they say I’m not interested in my husband’s case. People talk from all sides, and I don’t have the strength to explain myself anymore. I feel so alone. I can’t even work right now. My daughter is 18 months old. She’d be alone too. I worry about her. I don’t want her to grow up hating Hindus. I don’t want her to waste her energy on hate. That’s why I’ve started preparing for the JMFC exam. The environment around Ayesha is always tense and negative. I tried to find a house in Karad or Sangli, leaving my village, Rajachi Kurle. But as soon as people hear I’m from Pusesavali or Nurul Hasan’s widow, they say no. Being Muslim and a single mother doesn’t help. I’ve been looking for a house for four months. How do I describe the pain of rejection? Some say no one rents to Muslims after the Pahalgam attack. But my husband was killed here—how dare anyone say that? These experiences have broken me. People often say if Nurul hadn’t gone to confront those people, he wouldn’t have died. So, the attackers, the violent ones, aren’t at fault, but he is to be blamed for taking to task his so-called friends? It’s such an easy blame game. Nurul was a great friend, a great partner. He helped with my work and took care of me. I lost such a person. That pain will always stay. But let me tell you…”

Ayesha takes a deep breath and says, “I’m tired of being seen as a victim or a gold digger. Pusesavali’s incident and the label of Nurul’s widow have stamped my life. I want to change that image. I may fail as a wife, but I won’t fail as a mother. People keep looking at me through that same lens. When I try to move forward, they tie that image to my feet like a burden. It causes me so much mental pain.”

Samreen Pathan: Holding on Through Loneliness

Samreen and Aamir had been married for three years. They have a two-year-old daughter. Samreen works as an assistant manager at a bank, while Aamir was a relationship officer at a telecom company. Both were from Latur, and both had jobs there. But eight or ten months ago, Samreen got a job at a different bank’s branch in Dharashiv. Aamir, not wanting her career to stall, didn’t care about his own job and moved to Dharashiv with her. Once Samreen settled into her routine there, he returned to Latur for work, taking their daughter along. Samreen wasn’t used to living alone, having grown up in a big family. So, she’d come to Latur every weekend, spend two days with them, and return to work. Samreen says, “I’d wake up early, go to the office, meet clients, and spend weekends together. That was our routine. For years, we heard about the growing Hindu-Muslim tension and hatred in society, but it never touched our lives. Aamir’s closest friends were Hindus. At my office, we all worked together harmoniously. No big fights, no complaints, nothing. Everything was peaceful, simple, friendly. But now, something feels different. This incident shocked us. We were happy in our own world. Why us?” she asks, her voice heavy with pain, before falling silent for a moment. Even meeting her in Dharashiv wasn’t easy—she wasn’t eager to talk. It’s understandable. Reliving those memories, retelling her story, is exhausting. The police’s mishandling of her complaint only adds to her distress. When we met at her bank’s premises, Samreen, barely looking thirty, wore simple clothes and glasses. She buries her grief in work, pulling herself forward for the next day.

Since Aamir’s suicide, sleep has been hard for Samreen. The incident left him deeply traumatized, and his suicide is clear proof of that. Samreen recalls, “That day, I was nearing Latur and called him to pick me up. The bus stops at Maidan Chowk, where I was getting off. He’d reached the chowk on his scooter, crossing the road. A local journalist was driving by. Aamir signalled to him, ‘Wait two minutes, let me cross.’ But that hurt the journalist’s ego.” Samreen starts recounting that day’s conversation. The shouting, the voices, still create a fearful tension in her mind. It was a regular Saturday, a routine return to her hometown to see her family and daughter, to recharge and go back to work. A predictable, peaceful routine. But that evening was different. Samreen continues, “The journalist got out of his car, parked it in the middle of the road, and started beating my husband. He asked, ‘What’s your name?’ Aamir said, ‘Aamir Pathan.’ The journalist sneered, ‘What, you think you’re some big Aamir? You’re a Pakistani, a Kashmiri, unfit to live in this country.’ Then he kept hitting him, yanked his pants, took photos, and recorded videos. ‘I’m a journalist,’ he said. ‘This will be in the papers.’ I was on the phone, hearing it all. I asked who he was talking to. I could hear Aamir’s voice, shouting, ‘What did I do wrong? Why are you hitting me?’” The incident happened on May 4, 2025 and was reported a few days later.

The incident left Aamir under immense stress. He was terrified the journalist would call him a terrorist or worse in the next day’s paper. He wanted to file a police complaint but lacked the courage. He called friends for help, telling them what happened. No one responded positively. They told him not to make a big deal, to let it go, or they’d see about it later. The beating had already scared him, but the fact that a stranger could threaten and humiliate him, and his close friends didn’t care, hurt him deeply. The journalist had yanked his pants so hard it caused physical discomfort. Aamir kept telling Samreen about it. She says, “Until 2 a.m., he was on his phone, searching for information about the journalist. At 6 a.m., he checked the papers, worried something was printed against him, calling him a Pakistani. He was so scared. The stress lasted till afternoon. His scooter was damaged, so he got it fixed. We were supposed to attend a reception that evening. He said, ‘Go ahead, I’ll rest and join you.’ When we got there, his phone wasn’t reachable. My mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and I returned home, only to find he’d taken his life.” Samreen, trying to stay strong, has tears in her eyes. She complains the police delayed action. The journalist was influential, connected to politicians, so they wouldn’t take her complaint. The next day, they went to the station at 9 a.m., but the police kept them waiting until 6 p.m., asking for CCTV footage and more. Samreen says, “The police said they’d register a suicide case but wouldn’t mention ‘Pakistani’ or ‘Kashmiri.’ We gave them the car’s number, but they refused to name the journalist in the complaint. We didn’t even know who he was at first. It feels like the police helped him escape by delaying. It affected me deeply. At first, it was unbearable. Now, I feel nothing. Everything’s numb. People come, ask questions, gather information, but no one truly helps. I have no expectations anymore, especially from the police. They suppressed everything. Some even accused us, saying we had political connections and were framing the journalist. The thief calling us liars! We lost our loved one, and we’re the ones filing a complaint?” Her anger peaks as she speaks, her frustration clear in every word. Recalling it chokes her up. She steadies herself and continues, “If I keep thinking about this, how willI run my home? I bury myself in work. Otherwise, I’d have collapsed completely. Evenings make me restless, especially between 8 and 9 p.m. Sundays feel unbearable now. I feel so alone. But I hold on for my daughter.”

Samreen now lives alone with her daughter in Dharashiv. Her mother helps care for the child, but Samreen expects nothing from anyone. “There’s no one to share your pain with. Sometimes, I wish it never happened, like waking from a bad dream to a normal day. Aamir was so good. He’d say, ‘Do what you want, I’m with you,’ and he proved it. Now, there’s only loneliness.”

Ayesha and Samreen, both in their thirties, were busy weaving dreams of family, children, a new life, and stability. They had little sense of the hatred and violence beyond their safe world. Even if such things existed, they felt far away. They lived in a space of harmony, believing no harm could touch them.

What to serve for dinner to men returning from work?

Vishalgad-Gajapur, in Kolhapur’s Shahuwadi taluka, is a cluster gram panchayat. It includes the fort’s village, Gajapur’s Muslimwadi, Vanipeth, Sainath Peth, Baudhwadi, Kembhurnewadi, Bhattali, and small hamlets stretching to Pavan Khindi. The road from Pandhrepani to Gajapur winds through dense forests, with the Kasari dam’s water on one side. The area is breezy year-round but remote, with poor phone connectivity. Naturally, job opportunities are scarce. The main sources of income are tourism and visitors to the local dargah. But violence causes more than just human loss—it devastates livelihoods. The tourism that sustained these remote hamlets has collapsed, and rumours about safety have spread. When the economic balance crumbles, the burden falls on women. Whether a man earns enough or not, feeding the family is a woman’s responsibility, and the stress of figuring out what to cook weighs heavily on them. Shaheen Mujawar explains, “There’s never been tension among locals in Vishalgad’s villages. Even now, communities support each other. But for the last two or three years, the atmosphere has been deliberately poisoned. There’s a court case about encroachments on Vishalgad, yet mobs from outside came and disrupted everything. Worst of all, jobs have vanished. Families have left these hamlets for work elsewhere, facing burdens from rent to household expenses. Children’s schools have been disrupted or changed. Income and expenses don’t align, making it hard for women to run households. People literally don’t have money for salt. If the gas runs out, they wonder who to turn to. Men face work stress, so women can’t tell them about grocery shortages. Every day, they wake up wondering what to cook. By evening, they hope their man comes home, but they dread him asking for food because they don’t know what to offer. Many of us aren’t used to working outside, and some families don’t allow it. If we’re not safe at home, how can we face harassment outside as Muslims?”

A fact-finding report by Salokha Sampark Gat, the Centre for Study of Society and Secularism, and Women’s Struggle for Peace details the violence in Vishalgad and Gajapur on July 14, 2024. It describes the physical, mental, and economic toll, with chilling accounts from Muslimwadi’s women. That day, most men were away for work, leaving elderly people, women, and children behind. The report notes: “Women in Muslimwadi faced terror all day. A mob armed with knives and hammers stormed in. As they pounded on doors, women barricaded them with sofas, chairs, and beds to keep them out. To stop children from crying, women stuffed cloth in their mouths to keep them quiet. Attackers broke doors, entered homes, and smashed everything—TVs, fridges, mixers, beds, chairs, mattresses. They left nothing intact. Scooters and vehicles were smashed with stones and hammers. Six scooters outside one house were piled up and burned. Fifteen to twenty men invaded each home, breaking windows, tearing roofs, burning clothes. Kitchen supplies—grain, flour, food—were thrown out. The entire settlement was destroyed. Women watched their life’s work turn to dust in moments. Attackers asked women their names, insulting those with Muslim names. One woman gave a Hindu name, but when they demanded her Aadhaar card and she didn’t have it, she locked herself inside. They broke the door, entered, and beat her. Reshma Prabhulkar, who runs a small bangle and clothing shop next to her house, didn’t open her door. The mob broke into her shop, detonated her cooking gas cylinder, and set her home’s contents ablaze.” Even without deaths, such incidents push women into a shell, layering pressure on them—worrying about their men’s safety, then their own. Women who’ve fought for freedom retreat, prioritizing others over themselves. This can lead to clinging to religious norms or societal pressures, starting a cycle of isolation, suppression, and disconnection from society, harming their mental health.

Rehana Mursal from Shantisathi Mahila Sangharsh Manch (Women’s Struggle for Peace) shared a haunting observation: “Visiting homes in Gajapur and Vishalgad, I saw children clutching their mothers’ saree ends and stuffing them in their mouths. When I asked why, the women said that during the attack, as men were beaten outside, children hiding with their mothers understood what was happening. Terrified and trembling, they wanted to scream. To keep their hiding spots secret, mothers stuffed saree or scarf ends in their children’s mouths to silence them. The kids struggled to breathe, but the cloth stayed until the chaos subsided. Now, scared children do this themselves when strangers come, stuffing their mothers’ sarees in their mouths. What kind of present and future are we giving these kids? How do we erase this trauma?”

Talking to Ayesha, Samreen, and the women of Vishalgad-Gajapur, one thing stood out: Islamophobia and patriarchy leave Muslim women isolated. Ayesha and Samreen both lost their in-laws’ support—treated as irrelevant once their husbands died. Their Muslim identity made filing complaints difficult, and they were kept away from their cases. They’ve had to take on family responsibilities, including jobs, while raising children alone. Financial strain suffocates them. Women wearing hijabs or burqas face barriers in education and jobs. Such incidents create fear, stopping bold girls from stepping out. Muslim vendors face boycotts, crippling their businesses. Finding homes is tough, with Muslims facing discrimination. Workers endure unequal treatment. Amid these social injustices, mental health is side-lined. The fear, loneliness, and constant vigilance Muslim women face are deep scars of communalism, yet these emotional wounds are rarely discussed.

From Social Othering to Social Suffering

These incidents may seem rare, sparking debates about why discuss them. But in recent years, Muslims, especially men, have been systematically targeted. Hate speeches, calls to displace Muslims, cow vigilantism, and mob killings are rising, as shown in the 2024 India Hate Lab and Hate Crime Report: Mapping First Year of Modi’s Third Government. These reports highlight how anti-Muslim hatred is growing organised, political, and normalised. India Hate Lab recorded 1,165 hate speech incidents in 2024, with 1,050 targeting Muslims, occurring in political rallies, religious processions, and election campaigns. Of these, 266 involved BJP leaders. Terms like “love jihad,” “land jihad,” and “vote jihad” were joined by new ones like “mazar jihad,” “UPSC jihad,” “fertilizer jihad,” and “rail jihad,” spreading false narratives to fuel hatred. Uttar Pradesh saw the most incidents (242, up 132% from last year), followed by Maharashtra with 210 hate speech cases, a 78% rise from 118 in 2023. Of Maharashtra’s cases, 195 targeted Muslims, 14 targeted both Muslims and Christians, and one was anti-Christian. May’s Lok Sabha elections and November’s assembly elections saw peaks, with 32 incidents in May alone. Political leaders and Hindu nationalist groups used these periods to inflame religious sentiments. From August to November, 90 incidents were recorded.

The Hate Crime Report notes 947 hate crimes from June 2024 to June 2025, including 602 violent incidents. In 173 mob attacks, 25 Muslim men died. Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, and Maharashtra were particularly sensitive. Maharashtra saw 101 hate speeches, with 178 by BJP-linked leaders, including the Prime Minister, Chief Ministers, MPs, and others. Of 947 hate crimes, only 81 (13%) led to FIRs, and no political leaders faced action. These are just recorded cases—unreported ones are unknown. The data shows hate is being normalized, a worrying trend.

Mental health discussions for families affected by riots, violence, and hate speech often focus on post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), noting symptoms like depression, insomnia, or lack of focus. But the broader societal impact is ignored. The “social othering” from religious divides and its mental toll are overlooked. Mental health can’t be separated from daily life’s small and big struggles. Bebaak Collective’s report, Social Suffering in a World without Support: Report on Mental Health of Indian Muslims, highlights this. Researcher and founder Hasina Khan says, “Studying religious and social hatred, we realized Indian Muslims’ mental health reflects political oppression and societal hate. Talking to victims of hate crimes and riots, we saw that discussing emotions, habits, and relationships reveals how communalism changes Muslim lives. Mental health studies can’t stop at PTSD or depression. Violence affects daily life, so we must understand its impact on future aspirations, financial security, and health. Muslim mental health isn’t just about communalism—it underscores everyday exclusion. Some faced physical effects: one family member had a heart attack, another victim’s mother lost her sanity. Women’s mobility is restricted, they grow isolated, neighbors drift away, friends from their own and other communities shrink back. Youth face future anxiety, leading to depression. Activists feel fear and despair, grappling with helplessness and stress. Constant vigilance in public spaces harms mental health, yet it’s rarely discussed.” Mental health expert Shamima Asgar adds, “Clinical mental health approaches are individual-focused, addressing personal pain and trauma but not the root causes of violence. Instead, the focus is on coping with its effects, implying the violence will persist, and you must adapt.” In short, addressing the problem requires tackling its roots, viewing Muslim mental health as social suffering.

Hasina’s point is key: religiously motivated violence and inflammatory speeches are politically driven, a tool of oppression. When such attacks come from institutions, who takes responsibility? The institutions themselves should, as Muslims are citizens under their care. Preventing injustices, mob deaths, and attacks is their duty, as is supporting victims afterward. Otherwise, how will affected families and women stand again? Trauma needs support. Women whose lives are upended by religious hatred need space to express their pain freely and a chance to move forward. Samreen sees her busy life as healing. Mental health taboos often stop women from seeking counselling or therapy, so it should be offered at a government level. Ayesha was encouraged by Satara’s rural police superintendent to try therapy. She says, “I had no idea about counselling or therapy. I thought I was strong. The way I handled things, spoke, and acted made me think I was fine. But therapy showed me I was bottling up my pain. I didn’t even know how much I’d suppressed. I had headaches, irritability, and despair. Sometimes, I felt nothing, like I was numb. The world talked about my tragedy, but I seemed strong on the outside. Therapy taught me I hadn’t moved past the shock. It helped me accept it slowly. Five or six months later, I cried openly for the first time. My heart felt lighter. I realized I needed to think about what’s next, how to live. The stress is temporary. What’s permanent? My daughter. She’s, my anchor.” Ayesha got help, but not from the government.

Improving mental health requires concrete steps at social, political, and legal levels. Rehana Mursal and Hasina Khan suggest permanent peace committees and administrative systems in every district to prevent violence and promote unity. Civil groups should monitor justice systems, support victims, and pressure authorities to act against perpetrators. The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) and Minority Commission (NCM) should investigate alongside police to ensure justice. State governments should compensate victims of hate crimes. Local groups, women’s collectives, and organizations should offer emotional support and safe spaces. Counselling and trauma care should be available in Muslim-majority areas. Health workers need training to handle hate crime victims sensitively. Mental health experts should study the impact of class, caste, and religion on health, and mental health laws must be actively enforced.

Reflecting on Hasina’s words, we can’t ignore changes in emotions, behaviour, and relationships. How do we fix or undo them? When Samreen’s daughter asks when her father will return, what can she say? “We had our routine,” she said, hinting at the joy it brought. Yet, when she called her mother-in-law to stay with her, their avoidance hurt her. How do you compensate for the time needed to process this? Still, Samreen says, “I’ve accepted he’s not coming back. I live for my daughter.” Ayesha echoed this: “Even after marriage, I wasn’t very mature. I was a silly, carefree girl, always laughing, lost in dreams. Nurul let me be that way. Then this mountain of tragedy hit. It made me serious, wiped out my carefree nature. I struggled to accept that change, but now I have. My daughter matters most.” Should we call it good or bad that the daughters these mothers strive for are shielded from reality? Just then, Ashnoor grabbed Ayesha’s phone, pointing at her father’s photo, calling him “Abbu.” She recognizes him, but what will she think when she learns why he’s gone? Unknowingly, the system has made her part of this social suffering. What should she and other children like her do with this pain? In a society where religion overshadows humanity, it feels like we’re all casting shadows of hate. If we can, let’s pull our hands back.

Related:

CJP complains to Maharashtra DGP, Jalgaon SP over police role in Shiv Pratisthan rally amid Suleman Pathan lynching probe

Muslims, victims of targeted violence in Pusesavali, Satara: Fact-finding report

Pay compensation to Nurul Hasan Shikalgar’s family, order independent judicial inquiry: Satara Citizens to Maharashtra Govt

Why no action against hate monger, BJP leader, Vikram Pawaskar asks Bombay HC

Activists highlight decimated situation of Muslim houses, shops in Gajapur, Kolhapur post violence, deem authorities to be guilty of negligence

Violence, vandalism and arson in Kolhapur, Muslim houses and mosque targeted by mob that had gathered on the call of former RS MP Sambhaji Raje Chhatrapati

CJP flags 8 incidents of hate crime including lynchings to National Commission for Minorities

The post Silent Scars: How Muslim widows of hate crimes endure layered, unseen oppression appeared first on SabrangIndia.

According to the minister, between 2022-23 and 2024-25, Pune, Mumbai, Chhatrapati Sambhajinagar, Nagpur, Amravati, Akola and Yavatmal districts collectively reported 14,526 child deaths. This high figure includes infants and children under five admitted to government facilities, as well as cases of severe malnutrition. The minister also said that 138 infant deaths have been recorded in the tribal-dominated Palghar district. Palghar has always been high on hunger, deprivation and infant mortality figures.

Speaking in the assembly in response to a question and citing from the state health department’s data as of November 2025, Abitkar said 203 children were identified as suffering from Severe Acute Malnutrition (SAM) and 2,666 from Moderate Acute Malnutrition. The proportion of underweight children was recorded at 0.23 per cent, while 1.48 per cent fell in the moderately underweight category.

The minister also referred to the Sample Registration System 2022, released by the Registrar General of India, which estimated Maharashtra’s neonatal mortality rate at 11 per 1,000 live births, lower than the national average of 23. In defence, Abitkar said the state government has adopted multiple measures under the Integrated Child Development Services programme to reduce malnutrition. These include regular health examinations, the Dr A P J Abdul Kalam Amrut Aahar Yojana for pregnant women, targeted interventions for SAM children, the Nutrition Campaign, the Pradhan Mantri Matru Vandana Yojana and the ‘Suposhit Maharashtra’ initiative.

(This is based on a report by PTI)

Related:

India ranks first in child deaths under 5 years of age: UNICEF report

5% rise in infant and child deaths in Mumbai

BRD hospital records 433 child deaths in a month. Should Kerala still follow UP?

The post Maharashtra: Seven districts saw 14,526 child deaths in three years says Govt appeared first on SabrangIndia.