The ongoing hearings on Sabarimala Temple before the Supreme Court of India have once again brought to the forefront a deeply sensitive issue—how should a modern constitutional democracy engage with ancient religious traditions? The debate has often been framed in binaries: equality versus faith, rights versus customs, progress versus orthodoxy. However, such simplifications risk distorting both the nature of Hindu traditions and the essence of the Sabarimala practice. The Sabarimala issue is neither about discrimination against women nor about denying dignity. Rather, it is about preserving a specific spiritual discipline rooted in the unique nature of the deity worshipped—Lord Ayyappa—and the centuries-old traditions associated with Him.
At the heart of the Sabarimala tradition lies the concept of Naishtika Brahmacharya, meaning eternal celibacy. Lord Ayyappa is worshipped as a Naishtika Brahmachari, a deity who embodies renunciation and strict celibacy. The customs associated with the temple—including the restriction on women of menstruating age typically 10–50 years)—must be understood within this theological framework. Unlike many other Hindu temples, Sabarimala is not a universal model of worship. Hinduism, by its very nature, is pluralistic and accommodates a vast diversity of practices. There are temples where women are central to rituals, temples where men are excluded at certain times and spaces where gender roles are reversed in ritual contexts. The Sabarimala tradition is one among many such unique expressions.
The claim that Sabarimala and Hindu Dharma are inherently opposed to women is not only misleading but appears to be a deliberately constructed narrative aimed at discrediting a deeply rooted civilizational tradition. In reality, Hindu Dharma stands out as one of the few ancient traditions that explicitly upholds the dignity and reverence of women in its foundational texts. Hinduism is perhaps the only major religious tradition where the divine feminine is not just acknowledged but revered as supreme. God is worshipped not only as male but as female, and often as both simultaneously.
As the scriptures declare:
“Yatra nāryastu pūjyante ramante tatra devatāḥ;
yatraitāstu na pūjyante sarvāstatrāphalāḥ kriyāḥ”.
(Where women are honoured, there the gods rejoice; where they are not honoured, all actions remain fruitless.) Again, the scriptures say, “Yaa Devi Sarva-Bhuteshu Matri Ruupenna Samsthitaa.” That is, in our Bhartiya society, where women are worshiped as gods. We believe that primal power Mahamaya resides in Kumari. In Hindu Dharma, the feminine is not merely respected; it is revered as divine. From Durga, the embodiment of shakti(power), to Saraswati, the source of knowledge and Lakshmi, the symbol of prosperity, the sacred feminine forms the very foundation of Hindu spirituality.
Beyond theology, Hindu civilization has historically acknowledged women as intellectual and spiritual authorities. In the Vedic period, women like Gargi Vachaknavi and Maitreyi participated in profound philosophical debates recorded in the Upanishads. Gargi, in particular, is known for challenging the sage Yajnavalkya on metaphysical questions in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. Similarly, women saints like Andal, Mirabai and Akka Mahadevi played pivotal roles in shaping devotional traditions across India.
In more recent times, personalities such as Sister Nivedita and Sarada Devi have played transformative roles in shaping modern spiritual thought. These examples demonstrate that Hindu society, at its best, has never excluded women from the highest realms of spiritual pursuit. Against this backdrop, it becomes evident that the Sabarimala tradition cannot be reduced to a question of gender discrimination. It is a specific practice tied to a specific deity and a specific mode of worship. To interpret it through a purely secular lens is to misunderstand its essence.
Solicitor General Tushar Mehta also countered this false and so-called feminist narrative. During the proceedings before the Supreme Court of India, he pointed out that religious practices across different temples in India often involve gender-specific traditions that are not necessarily discriminatory in intent. He clearly said, “There are temples like the Pushkar temple where married men are not allowed. There is one temple in Kerala where the system is that man will go dressed as women. They go to a beauty parlour and lady family members help them dress wearing saree and other things. Only males go”.
The narrative that portrays the tradition as anti-women does a disservice not only to the faith but also to the women who have been active participants in it. Many women devotees themselves have expressed their desire to preserve the sanctity of the tradition, viewing it as an integral part of their spiritual identity. Their voices must be acknowledged, rather than overshadowed by external interpretations.
Even outside Hinduism, gender-specific religious practices exist. Monasteries, convents, and certain sacred rituals across religions have historically maintained gender-based restrictions. Yet, these are often seen as expressions of discipline rather than discrimination. Why, then, is Sabarimala singled out as inherently regressive?
When certain self-proclaimed secularists and feminists protest on the Sabarimala issue, it raises questions about whether their intent is genuine concern for women’s rights or an attempt to defame Hindu Dharma. At the same time, many of these voices remain silent when Hindu women in Bangladesh face violence and persecution because of their identity. Similarly, there has been little consistent outrage from them when women’s education was severely restricted in neighbouring Afghanistan. This selective activism reveals a troubling double standard. If the concern were truly about women’s rights, it would be consistent across regions, communities, and contexts. Instead, the pattern suggests that the issue is not feminism in its true sense, but a targeted criticism of Hindu traditions. One must ask: why does sympathy appear only in certain cases and disappear in others?
In essence, the Sabarimala issue is not a question of denying women dignity but of preserving a unique spiritual tradition rooted in the nature of the deity and Hindu pluralism. Reducing it to a binary of equality versus faith ignores the civilizational depth and diversity of Hindu practices. A balanced approach requires respecting both constitutional values and the autonomy of religious traditions. True discourse must move beyond selective narratives and engage with the issue in its full cultural and philosophical context.
