The Supreme Court on November 25 upheld the Delhi High Court’s May 2025 order affirming Lieutenant Samuel Kamalesan’s termination from service for refusing to enter the sanctum of his regiment’s temple and gurdwara. His unit, the 3rd Cavalry, has a distinguished and valiant history, largely comprising troops from the Sikh, Jat, and Rajput communities.
Kamalesan, a Protestant Christian officer commissioned in 2017 into the Indian Army, maintained that he never disrespected any faith, but believed that physically entering another religion’s sanctum violated the first of the Ten Commandments (viz, “You shall have no other gods before me”). The apex court observed: “Leaders have to lead by example … When a pastor, a leader of your faith, counselled you that it was alright, you should have left it at that … you cannot have your private understanding of what your religion permits … in uniform.” The Court thus held that Kamalesan’s refusal encroached upon the Army’s model of secularism, which requires all officers to participate equally in the rituals of the diverse faiths of their troops, and that his conduct constituted a breach of discipline and collective ethos.
The judgment has sparked predictable controversy. Some argue that, while discipline is indispensable to the armed forces, the dismissal violates personally held religious convictions, reduces Indian secularism to ritual uniformity, overlooks its deeper constitutional soul, and narrows the accommodative space in which all belief systems can coexist without coercion. A few have even juxtaposed this with emphatic assertions about Pakistan’s armed forces being Islamised and radicalised. The issue, however, is far more complex.
To understand the role of religion and religious practice in the armed forces, two aspects must be acknowledged at the outset: It is the soldiers who fight — not the politicians, officials, or trolls baying for blood from their phones; and that wars are appallingly violent; killing and maiming entail immense horror and brutality for both soldiers and civilians.
Killing another human being is never easy, and witnessing dismembered bodies can be profoundly traumatic. One may kill in hot blood in response to an actual or perceived personal wrong, but soldiers generally have no personal connection with or personal grievance against enemy soldiers. Yet war demands that a soldier mercilessly kill the “enemy,” at times repeatedly.
Most militaries, including Western ones, follow a familiar pattern to prepare soldiers for this extraordinarily demanding task: Dehumanise, demonise, and kill. Various themes and techniques are employed to first dehumanise the “enemy”, then to demonise them, after which religion and religious teachings are invoked to justify the “neutralisation” of that “evil” or “demon”. Ergo, the US’s “Axis of Evil”.
The inculcation of religion and religious practice provides soldiers with a moral and ethical framework, fosters a sense of purpose, and helps build hope and resilience against stress, trauma, and the rigours of combat. Shared religious practices also strengthen cohesion and discipline within troops by augmenting a sense of belonging. Notably, religion offers a moral compass to navigate the violent free-for-all of the battlefield. Most armies therefore rely on religion, alongside regimental loyalties, as a psychological tool to motivate soldiers, convince them of the genuineness of their cause, and ensure they do what is required — and do it correctly — for their nation.
Thus, while religion may be a private affair in civilian spheres, it has formal, spiritual, and cultural functions in the military. Behind the concepts of élan, tradition, and professionalism lies an essential, inspirational glue that binds units together, provides impetus to war plans, and prompts soldiers to sacrifice their lives for a higher cause and for each other. An officer, especially in a fighting arm (as in this armoured corps case), cannot enjoy the confidence of his troops if he distances himself from their religious beliefs.
If a young officer is not part of his troops in every way, they are unlikely to follow him into danger, regardless of his professionalism. Moreover, given the long association officers have with their units, troops become, in many ways, friends, family, and comrades. Their lives, successes, and tribulations matter deeply — which is why officers and soldiers pray collectively and fervently to every divine power. This custom does not prevent any officer from practising his own religion.
Hence, this judgment by the Supreme Court, coming in communally-charged times, is both opportune and sagacious. An exemption in this case could have well opened the way for other fragmentary exceptions, which is just not acceptable in the armed forces of a large country with great diversity and no dearth of challenges. Army units fight for Naam, Namak aur Nishan.
The writer, a retired Army officer, was the principal director in the National Security Council Secretariat
