As if looting citizens isn’t enough, the corrupt and unscrupulous in the bureaucracy are now after the wealth of the gods. The recent news of significant gold disappearing from Sabarimala, a cornerstone of faith and immense wealth, is not just a police case; it is the latest, damning evidence of a systemic moral collapse. A substantial quantity of gold, tied to the 2019 restoration work of the temple’s dwarapalaka idols, has vanished, with fingers pointing at officials and questionable ‘sponsors.’ When the Travancore Devaswom Board, the government’s administrative arm, assures us the ‘guilty will be punished,’ the informed citizen can only feel a weary sense of déja vu.
The paradox is glaring: in our supposedly secular republic, the temples of the majority community are treated as a state-run cash cow, while institutions of virtually every other faith manage their own spiritual and financial destiny with minimal state intrusion. This unequal application of the law, where the government assumes the role of an often-incompetent and cynical trustee for Hindu wealth, fundamentally violates the spirit of the Constitution. The state’s continued control over vast temple treasuries—which are the donations and offerings of the faithful—allows for their diversion into ‘secular’ activities, often unrelated to Hindu communal welfare, turning devotion into mere government revenue. The controversies of the last decade, from encroachments on temple lands in Karnataka, Kerala and Tamil Nadu to allegations of financial irregularities in other major shrines, all trace back to this single, fatal flaw: the absence of accountability to the devotee, and the presence of political self-interest in the administrative chamber.
The gold plating discrepancies in Sabarimala, where gold-laden panels were allegedly recorded as mere copper sheets upon transfer, reveal how quickly greed can contaminate the sacred. The state justifies its control by claiming to prevent mismanagement, yet the reality is often the opposite. Under the protective, yet inert, shroud of the bureaucracy, many anachronistic and exclusionary customs persist, including the hereditary monopoly of the priesthood. The political establishment, having secured the revenue stream, exhibits a peculiar lack of urgency in implementing reforms. They are comfortable with a status quo that ensures a steady stream of revenue without challenging vested interests. Meanwhile, many private trusts, free from the inertia of the government, have quietly been the pioneers of social and administrative modernisation. For example, many private temples in Kerala, including the ones run by the Vishva Hindu Parishad, allow entry to everyone in any appropriate and decent attire, while the state-run temples bar non-Hindus from entering the premises, go through elaborate ritualistic purifications at the cost of the exchequer at the chance entry of someone born in a different faith and insist on having priests from traditional families with no consideration of scholarship on Hindu customs or rituals. The temples of Kerala might be the last bastion of untouchability in the country. While a devotee can perform abhisheka on the idol in Varanasi or Mathura, in the state-run temples of Kerala, devotees must stand many feet away from the sanctum sanctorum. The prasad is often thrown from a distance into the devotee’s hands, with utmost care not to touch the devotee even accidentally. The so-called progressive governments of Kerala haven’t dared to even reform such blatant casteist customs. Even untouchability, unapproachability, sati, child marriage, etc, were traditions once upon a time. It was through relentless reforms that society got rid of such evils. The argument that the government is controlling Hindu temples to ensure reforms falls flat at the face of such anachronstic practises.
It is time to move beyond the shallow critique of isolated theft and address the foundational illness. We must insist on a model of governance for temples that is spiritually resonant, financially transparent, and democratically sound. The temples are not public property in the secular sense; they are the property of the community of believers. Therefore, the control of these temples must be immediately and irrevocably transferred from the bureaucratic-political nexus back to the Hindu community itself.
Every significant temple should be categorised based on its scale and reach: local, managed entirely by the immediate surrounding community; provincial, overseeing regional shrines; state-level; and a select few designated as national temples of paramount importance. For each of these categories, the administrative bodies—be it the local temple management committee or the state-level board—must be determined through direct elections where every citizen who professes faith in the temple’s deity is recognised as a legitimate voter. Just like local body elections, state elections and Parliament elections, the administrative boards of the temples should be constituted. This would democratise the faith.
Furthermore, to make these sacred spaces truly representative, a strict policy of reservation for women and marginalised communities must be applied to the administrative boards. This will not only dismantle the archaic power structures but will also make temple management reflective of the diversity and inclusivity that Hindu philosophy preaches. Simultaneously, the hereditary rights of priests and administrators must be abolished. These entitlements are relics of a bygone era and have no place in a modern, meritocratic, and community-centric administration. Merit, devotion, and capability must be the sole criteria for all temple roles.
The question is straightforward: why should a government committed to secularism insist on administering the religious institutions of only one community? The answer, devoid of political posturing, is power and money. It is time for the Parliament to act decisively to enact a liberation bill. No state government is going to relinquish such a cash cow as the Hindu temples willingly.
