The Madras High Court’s emphatic verdict upholding the lighting of Karthigai Deepam atop the Thiruparankundram hillock is not merely a legal win—it is a moral, constitutional, and civilisational assertion. It delivers a stinging rebuke to the ruling DMK’s persistent attempt to trivialise Hindu faith while weaponising minority appeasement for narrow political gains. By affirming the single judge’s order permitting the lighting of the Deepam at the stone pillar—identified unequivocally as a Deepathoon—the Division Bench exposed the hollowness of the State’s objections, the contrived law-and-order paranoia, and the disturbing misuse of administrative machinery to stall an age-old Hindu practice. This controversy should never have existed. Both the local Waqf Board and the temple authorities had categorically stated that they had no objection whatsoever to the lighting of the Deepam—a ritual practised for decades, if not centuries. Yet, with elections approaching, rising anti-incumbency, and the growing political challenge posed by actor-turned-politician Vijay, the DMK government appeared desperate to engineer a religious flashpoint to consolidate its minority vote bank. The gamble backfired spectacularly. When Justice G.R. Swaminathan ruled in favour of restoring the tradition, the State did not merely appeal—it actively sabotaged compliance. Police barricades, administrative hurdles, and manufactured “public order” fears ensured that the Deepam was not lit during the 2025 festival, despite a clear judicial mandate. A contempt petition now hangs ominously over the authorities, underscoring the government’s blatant disregard for judicial authority when Hindu religious rights are involved. The Division Bench—Justices G. Jayachandran and K.K. Ramakrishnan—left no room for ambiguity. They categorically rejected the State’s claim that Agama Shastras prohibited the ritual, noting that the appellants had failed to produce any credible evidence. More damningly, the Bench described the law-and-order argument as “ridiculous and hard to believe,” observing that it was absurd for a powerful State to fear unrest merely because a lamp was being lit on temple land. In a scathing remark rarely heard from the judiciary, the Bench said such disturbances could occur only “unless sponsored by the State itself,” adding a pointed prayer that no government should ever stoop so low to advance a political agenda. The so-called threat to communal harmony, the judges said, was nothing but an “imaginary ghost conveniently created” that served only to breed mistrust between communities.
The Court also dismantled the Waqf Board’s “mischievous” claim over the stone pillar, reminding all parties that religious customs are rooted in reason and symbolism. Lighting a Deepam at an elevated place allows devotees at the foothills to witness and worship—an essential aspect of the ritual, not a provocation. Importantly, the Bench reaffirmed historical facts. Justice Swaminathan had relied on a 1920s civil court judgment clearly demarcating ownership of the hill—only specific portions belonged to the dargah, while the Deepathoon site fell within temple land. The practice, he ruled, did not infringe upon Muslim religious rights in any manner. Yet, even with such clarity, the State dragged its feet—first seeking a larger Bench, then knocking on the doors of the Supreme Court. Many fear that this pattern reflects a deeper malaise: the casual readiness to question, dilute, or delay Hindu practices while cloaking political bias under bureaucratic caution. This context becomes impossible to ignore when viewed alongside the ruling party’s ideological posture. Tamil Nadu’s Deputy Chief Minister had notoriously compared Sanatan Dharma to dengue and malaria, declaring that it must be “eradicated.” Such statements are not stray slips of the tongue; they reveal a mindset that sees Hindu belief not as a protected constitutional right, but as a social disease to be managed, mocked, or marginalised. Against this backdrop, the High Court’s insistence on constitutional balance is significant. While directing the temple authorities to light the Deepam, it permitted the ASI to impose preservation safeguards, barred public accompaniment, and tasked the District Collector with supervision—demonstrating that faith and order can coexist without coercion or denial. Most crucially, the Bench reaffirmed that peaceful coexistence does not mean the perpetual surrender of Hindu rights. “The Constitution and natural resources belong to everyone. Freedom of religion must be exercised without disturbing others,” the judges observed—a reminder that secularism is not selective silence. Tuesday’s verdict decisively settles the issue—for now. It restores an ancient ritual, rejects manufactured fears, exposes political cynicism, and reasserts that Hindu faith, too, enjoys full constitutional protection. For the DMK, it is a sobering reminder that courts still draw the line where politics tries to trample belief.
