Introduction
India’s constitutional framework promises every citizen the freedom to practice, profess, and propagate their religion under Article 25 of the Constitution. As a pluralistic and secular nation, this right forms a foundational part of our legal and moral identity. However, the exercise of this right has increasingly come under scrutiny, particularly when it involves religious minorities. In recent years, several Indian states have enacted or amended anti-conversion laws with the stated intention of preventing conversions by force, fraud, or inducement. While these laws are often presented as protective mechanisms, in practice, they have raised serious constitutional and human rights concerns. Their ambiguous language and uneven enforcement have enabled legal action against individuals and organizations even in the absence of coercion — often based solely on religious identity or association. One of the most alarming recent examples of this legal overreach was the arrest and judicial custody of two Malayali Catholic nuns in Chhattisgarh in July 2025, a case that has come to symbolize the growing tension between religious freedom and the state’s expanding control over faith-based activity.
The Malayali Nuns Case: From Welfare to Criminal Custody
In July 2025, Sisters Preeti Mary and Vandana Francis — members of a Catholic religious order in Kerala — were arrested by police at Durg railway station in Chhattisgarh. They were accompanying three tribal women from the Bastar region to Agra, where employment had been arranged through a Church-affiliated program. The women were adults, carried valid identity documents, and had the consent of their families. Yet, the nuns were accused of human trafficking and attempting forced religious conversion. The charges were filed under the Chhattisgarh Freedom of Religion Act, 1968, along with sections of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) and other penal provisions.
The local sessions court denied them bail, stating jurisdictional limitations, and the case was transferred to a National Investigation Agency (NIA) court — despite the complete absence of any connection to terrorism or national security. After days in judicial custody and widespread protests from Christian communities across India, conditional bail was finally granted. Political leaders, including Union Home Minister Amit Shah and MP Shashi Tharoor, criticized the procedural mishandling and the use of criminal law against individuals engaged in welfare work. But the damage had already been done. The arrest sent a chilling message to religious organizations involved in social service: that compassion, when expressed through the lens of faith, could be construed as a criminal act.
The Legal Contours of Anti-Conversion Laws in India
The Malayali nuns’ case cannot be seen in isolation. It reflects the broader legal uncertainty and potential for misuse embedded within India’s state-level anti-conversion laws. Currently, states like Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, and Gujarat have enacted Freedom of Religion Acts that prohibit conversions carried out through “force, fraud, or allurement.” While the objective of preventing exploitative practices is constitutionally legitimate, the definitions used in these statutes are vague and often subjective. For example, offering education, medical aid, or employment can be interpreted as “inducement” or “allurement” — even when these are non-coercive and offered as part of legitimate social outreach.
The Supreme Court’s decision in Rev. Stainislaus v. State of Madhya Pradesh (1977) upheld the constitutional validity of laws preventing forced conversions but did not authorize the criminalization of voluntary conversions or peaceful propagation of religion. Nevertheless, the legal framework created by these state laws has opened the door to arbitrary accusations and selective prosecution — particularly against Christians and Muslims. The Malayali nuns’ arrest demonstrates how easily the line between welfare and crime can be blurred when faith is involved.
Religious Freedom, Procedural Fairness, and the Rule of Law
At the heart of the issue lies a fundamental constitutional tension. Article 25 guarantees not only the freedom to practice religion but also the right to propagate it — meaning the ability to share one’s faith peacefully. The nuns were not found to be distributing religious literature, conducting baptisms, or soliciting conversions. They were facilitating employment for marginalized women, a task which, under normal circumstances, would fall under charitable or social service work. Their arrest, therefore, represents a significant infringement on religious liberty.
Moreover, their detention without sufficient prima facie evidence raises serious questions under Article 21, which protects the right to life and personal liberty. Indian courts have consistently held that personal liberty cannot be curtailed without strict adherence to due process. In Satender Kumar Antil v. CBI (2022), the Supreme Court emphasized that bail, not jail, should be the rule — especially in non-violent, non-serious offences. The denial of bail to the nuns, the shifting of their case to an NIA court, and the prolonged judicial custody reflect procedural overreach and the unnecessary criminalization of religious persons.
The broader implication is this: when the state begins to treat acts of religious compassion with suspicion and legal hostility, the result is a de facto restriction of religious freedom. This does not merely affect the individuals involved, but sends a broader message to faith-based organizations and minority communities: their activities are under watch, and even good faith efforts to serve society could attract penal consequences.
The Way Forward: Legal Reform and Constitutional Vigilance
The time has come to reconsider the structure and purpose of anti-conversion laws in India. If their intent is to prevent fraud and coercion, they must be drafted with clarity, precision, and with sufficient safeguards against misuse. Terms such as “allurement” and “inducement” must be clearly defined and narrowed to exclude legitimate charitable acts. More importantly, any accusation of forced conversion should require strong evidence and a burden of proof on the accuser — not merely the presumption of guilt based on religious identity.
There must also be greater judicial and legislative scrutiny of how these laws are enforced. Religious freedom is not a minor right. It sits at the heart of personal identity and conscience. Arbitrary arrests, like that of the Malayali nuns, violate not just individual liberty, but the spirit of the Indian Constitution itself.
India must also align its practices with international human rights norms. As a signatory to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), India has committed to protecting freedom of religion, belief, and expression. Misuse of law to stifle these freedoms undermines our global commitments and democratic ethos.
Conclusion
The arrest of the Malayali nuns in Chhattisgarh is more than a legal misstep — it is a cautionary tale of how compassion can be criminalized when laws are vague, enforcement is biased, and constitutional rights are treated as negotiable. This case illustrates the urgent need for reform in India’s approach to religious freedom and criminal law. Anti- conversion laws, in their current form, are vulnerable to misuse and discrimination. They create fear, restrict civil liberties, and undermine the secular character of the Indian state.
If we are to uphold the promise of the Constitution — of liberty, equality, and fraternity — then we must ensure that laws protect the vulnerable, not silence them. Compassion, when motivated by faith and practiced within the bounds of the law, must never lead to custody. The legacy of India’s legal system must be justice — not suspicion.
