<p>In a shocking turn of events, on January 17, 2025, a special court in Uttar Pradesh’s Ambedkar Nagar handed down a five-year prison sentence to a Christian couple, Pastor Jose Pappachan and Sheeja Pappachan, for their alleged crime of forced religious conversion. However, their offence? Engaging with Dalit families in Shahapur Firoz, urging them to shun the addiction of alcohol and adopt a more reformed way of life—a crime now punishable under India’s increasingly draconian anti-conversion laws. Alongside the prison term, the court had also slapped them with a Rs 2,000 fine each, in what appeared to be an attempt to further cement their “wrongdoing”. However, On Feb 7, in a swift and commendable move, the Lucknow bench of the Allahabad High Court not only agreed to hear the <br>matter but also granted bail to the couple.</p>.<p>This is not an isolated case. A few months earlier, on September 26, 2024, three others—Balchand Jaisawar, Gopal Prajapati, and one unnamed individual—were convicted under the UP Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion of Religion Act, 2021, receiving prison terms ranging from three months to six years for engaging in mass conversions.</p>.<p>As India edges closer to a legal stranglehold on religious choice, other states are following suit. Reports indicate that Rajasthan is set to introduce its own Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion of Religion Bill, 2025, mirroring similar oppressive laws in Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, and Karnataka. These laws claim to target conversions through coercion, force, allurement, or fraud, but in reality, they criminalise charity, compassion, and the fundamental right to choose one’s own faith.</p>.<p>There are important questions with no straight answers: What exactly constitutes “inducement”? Is offering education to poor Dalit children an inducement? Is helping an alcoholic break free from addiction coercion?</p>.UGC’s draft rules: pros and cons.<p>The laws remain vague, allowing for misinterpretation, misuse, and persecution of minorities.</p>.<p>One cannot fault the courts for ruling based on laws they are bound to uphold, but the real culprits are India’s politicians, who have twisted the Constitution to serve majoritarian interests.</p>.<p>Article 25 of the Indian Constitution guarantees the right to practice, profess, and propagate religion. Yet, with the recent UP Amendment of 2024 and the Karnataka Protection of Right to Freedom of Religion Act, 2022, accusations alone are enough to destroy lives. Shockingly, even a third party—someone entirely uninvolved—can file a case, shifting the burden of proof onto the accused, not the accuser.</p>.<p>This creates a legal paradox: while ghar wapsi—reconversion to Hinduism—is legally protected, embracing a new faith is criminalised. Why is conversion only a crime when it moves in one direction?</p>.<p>The hypocrisy doesn’t stop at religion—it extends to politics. While anti-conversion laws tighten their grip on religious freedom, politicians themselves freely “convert” to parties of different ideologies overnight—often lured by money, power, and political advantage. If religious conversion through so-called inducement is criminal, why is political defection—often achieved through far greater inducements—not just legal, but celebrated?</p>.<p>The global stage has embraced former US Vice President Kamala Harris, <br>Usha Vance (US Vice President J D Vance’s wife), former UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, and countless others of Indian origin, regardless <br>of their faith. Yet in India, a country that prides itself on diversity, choosing one’s religion is increasingly seen as a betrayal.</p>.<p>Religious conversion, when it happens, is rarely about coercion; it is about the poor and marginalised seeking dignity, equality, and freedom from oppressive social structures. If India truly aspires to be a civilised democracy, it must trust its people to make their own choices.</p>.<p>If we continue down this path, we risk becoming a nation that outlaws hope, criminalises compassion, and legislates fear. And that is the greatest conversion of all—the conversion of a democracy into an autocracy.</p>.<p><em><strong>(The writer is Archbishop of Bangalore)</strong></em></p>
<p>In a shocking turn of events, on January 17, 2025, a special court in Uttar Pradesh’s Ambedkar Nagar handed down a five-year prison sentence to a Christian couple, Pastor Jose Pappachan and Sheeja Pappachan, for their alleged crime of forced religious conversion. However, their offence? Engaging with Dalit families in Shahapur Firoz, urging them to shun the addiction of alcohol and adopt a more reformed way of life—a crime now punishable under India’s increasingly draconian anti-conversion laws. Alongside the prison term, the court had also slapped them with a Rs 2,000 fine each, in what appeared to be an attempt to further cement their “wrongdoing”. However, On Feb 7, in a swift and commendable move, the Lucknow bench of the Allahabad High Court not only agreed to hear the <br>matter but also granted bail to the couple.</p>.<p>This is not an isolated case. A few months earlier, on September 26, 2024, three others—Balchand Jaisawar, Gopal Prajapati, and one unnamed individual—were convicted under the UP Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion of Religion Act, 2021, receiving prison terms ranging from three months to six years for engaging in mass conversions.</p>.<p>As India edges closer to a legal stranglehold on religious choice, other states are following suit. Reports indicate that Rajasthan is set to introduce its own Prohibition of Unlawful Conversion of Religion Bill, 2025, mirroring similar oppressive laws in Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, and Karnataka. These laws claim to target conversions through coercion, force, allurement, or fraud, but in reality, they criminalise charity, compassion, and the fundamental right to choose one’s own faith.</p>.<p>There are important questions with no straight answers: What exactly constitutes “inducement”? Is offering education to poor Dalit children an inducement? Is helping an alcoholic break free from addiction coercion?</p>.UGC’s draft rules: pros and cons.<p>The laws remain vague, allowing for misinterpretation, misuse, and persecution of minorities.</p>.<p>One cannot fault the courts for ruling based on laws they are bound to uphold, but the real culprits are India’s politicians, who have twisted the Constitution to serve majoritarian interests.</p>.<p>Article 25 of the Indian Constitution guarantees the right to practice, profess, and propagate religion. Yet, with the recent UP Amendment of 2024 and the Karnataka Protection of Right to Freedom of Religion Act, 2022, accusations alone are enough to destroy lives. Shockingly, even a third party—someone entirely uninvolved—can file a case, shifting the burden of proof onto the accused, not the accuser.</p>.<p>This creates a legal paradox: while ghar wapsi—reconversion to Hinduism—is legally protected, embracing a new faith is criminalised. Why is conversion only a crime when it moves in one direction?</p>.<p>The hypocrisy doesn’t stop at religion—it extends to politics. While anti-conversion laws tighten their grip on religious freedom, politicians themselves freely “convert” to parties of different ideologies overnight—often lured by money, power, and political advantage. If religious conversion through so-called inducement is criminal, why is political defection—often achieved through far greater inducements—not just legal, but celebrated?</p>.<p>The global stage has embraced former US Vice President Kamala Harris, <br>Usha Vance (US Vice President J D Vance’s wife), former UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, and countless others of Indian origin, regardless <br>of their faith. Yet in India, a country that prides itself on diversity, choosing one’s religion is increasingly seen as a betrayal.</p>.<p>Religious conversion, when it happens, is rarely about coercion; it is about the poor and marginalised seeking dignity, equality, and freedom from oppressive social structures. If India truly aspires to be a civilised democracy, it must trust its people to make their own choices.</p>.<p>If we continue down this path, we risk becoming a nation that outlaws hope, criminalises compassion, and legislates fear. And that is the greatest conversion of all—the conversion of a democracy into an autocracy.</p>.<p><em><strong>(The writer is Archbishop of Bangalore)</strong></em></p>
