A week ago, the Chief of Army Staff, Gen. Upendra Dwivedi, visited Jagadguru Swami Rambhadracharya at his Ashram at Chitrakoot in Madhya Pradesh. He was in his uniform. The Swami claimed that he gave the General the same "diksha" with the Ram Mantra that Lord Hanuman received before conquering Lanka.

When the General asked him what dakshina he needed to give him the diksha, he said he wanted Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir as his Dakshina. When Ekalavya proved that he was better than Arjuna and his siblings, their guru, Dronacharya, asked him for his dakshina in the form of his right thumb.

By the way, Hanuman did not go to Lanka to meet Sita at the head of any army of monkeys. Rather, he went alone. Now that the General knows the Mantra, he can take a Rafale aircraft, fly over Pakistan, and capture PoK so that it can be delivered to the Swami.

Now, the question is: on what basis did he visit the religious person in his uniform? Also, how could he promise that he would get PoK as dakshina for him? How rightly it is said that "war is a serious thing that should not be left to the generals alone." Would General Dwivedi have gone to the Swami in his uniform if the government were different?

Of course, nothing will happen to Gen. Dwivedi because he has the ears of those in power. He has not done anything different from what his political masters have been doing. One picture etched in my memory is that of the first Rafale fighter aircraft, on which Defence Minister Rajnath Singh hung a sanctified lemon. I wondered whether he believed in the power of the sophisticated flying machine or the five-rupee lemon consecrated by a pujari.

While General Dwivedi will go scot-free in a country where the Prime Minister also acts as the preeminent priest, a poor Lieutenant has been dismissed from the Army without gratuity and pension benefits. What's worse, the High Court of Delhi has upheld the dismissal on the questionable claims made by his superiors.

Shakespeare's King Lear, tricked by two of his daughters into giving up his kingdom, is often viewed as a victim who suffered more wrongs than he committed. To use the Bard's own expression, "more sinned against than sinning". Much the same can be said about Lieutenant Samuel Kamalesan, whose only fault was that he held what he thought was dear to him.

When the reports about the dismissal of his petition came, I, too, was swayed by the half-truths it contained. A half-truth is often more dangerous than a full falsehood. We know it from the Mahabharata, where a poor elephant named Ashwathama was killed to disarm Dronacharya and thereby kill him.

My perception changed when I read the judgement delivered by Justice Navin Chawla and Justice Shalinder Kaur that contained salient features of the Lieutenant's plea. Before I come to this particular case, let me briefly explain what a weekly religious parade is.

The Indian Army is a secular force despite the tantrums of General Dwivedi. There are two types of secularism: the European one, which keeps religion of all kinds away from the government and consequently from the armed forces, and our interpretation of secularism, which is to accord equal respect for all religions.

Secularism is ingrained in the Indian Army as one of our core values. In keeping with the 'secular' traditions passed down by the British at the time of independence, the officers of the Indian Army units outwardly align with the religious practices of their troops. For instance, if the majority of the soldiers are Hindu, it is the job of the Commanding Officer to lead them in a weekly parade to the designated temple. For a moment, their religion becomes the officer's religion, too!

At the same time, they privately follow their own faith—if it varies from the faith of their troops. This tradition is seen as an important motivational function of officers, especially up to the unit level and in regimental training centres.

In keeping with such a practice, officers of the unit (irrespective of their own religion) attend religious rituals with their men—e.g., weekly Mandir or Gurudwara parades, or Church service, or events related to festivals like Janmashtami, Dussehra, Gurpurab, Christmas, Easter or Eid.

As the majority of our soldiers in most units follow the Hindu religion, most officers of other faiths (Christian/Sikh/Muslim/Buddhist) too join in weekly prayers.

This practice also includes Hindu or Sikh officers of Christian units (e.g., the Assam Regiment) attending Sunday church service, and officers of Muslim units (e.g., the Grenadiers Regiment) attending Friday prayers, and similarly for the Sikh units attending Gurudwara prayers. By the way, Havildar Abdul Hamid, who was awarded the Param Vir Chakra posthumously for his bravery and sacrifice during the 1965 India-Pakistan War, belonged to the Grenadiers Regiment.

He played a vital role in the Battle of Asal Uttar in Punjab, where he reportedly destroyed multiple Pakistani tanks with a recoilless gun before ultimately losing his life in the line of duty. His actions were recognised as a significant contribution to the defence of his country.

Sarv Dharam Sthal (prayer halls for all religions) is a modern concept which is generally relevant for multi-religious units or for static headquarters and units. In mobile units, the Army cannot have such multi-religious prayer halls.

Lt. Samuel Kamalesan joined the Third Cavalry Regiment, which had three squadrons—of Sikhs, Jats, and Rajputs. He was in charge of the Sikh squadron. He is a Protestant Christian who believes in monotheism. His affidavit clearly says that he never failed in his duty of leading the troops on their weekly religious parades. His objection was to entering the sanctum sanctorum of the temple or Gurudwara and performing all the rituals that the believers do.

For instance, Guru Gobind Singh, the 10th Sikh Guru, formally ended the line of human Gurus and declared that henceforth, the Guru Granth Sahib—the sacred scripture—would be the eternal Guru of the Sikhs. What he meant was that the Sikhs should follow the teachings contained in the holy book. Alas, over time, many began to venerate the physical book itself to the extent that it is ceremoniously "put to sleep" each night in many gurdwaras.

Kamalesan had no objection whatsoever to his troops performing any ritual they held dear. He would lead the weekly parade to the mandir, remove his shoes at the entrance, and show every outward sign of respect. His stand was never against his men's faith but about his own right not to partake in religious rituals he did not believe in.

It is often said that Hindu or Muslim officers posted in the Christian-majority Assam Regiment lead their soldiers to church on Sundays. There, they can sit quietly through the service. If it is a Catholic church, Holy Communion is reserved exclusively for Catholics. In the Mar Thoma Syrian Church, of which I am a member, nobody is allowed to partake in the Holy Qurbana unless they've made a formal confession. Even the Army General himself would have to follow protocol; he cannot command a priest to administer the Eucharist. Incidentally, Holy Communion is not like the prasad offered in a temple or gurdwara!

Confession, in fact, is a deeply personal sacrament. In Catholic and Orthodox churches, it is done privately. In Protestant denominations, such as the Mar Thoma Church or the Anglican Communion, it is done publicly. So, even if Lt. Samuel Kamalesan wanted to receive the Catholic "Holy Ghost," it wouldn't be possible without observing these rituals—rituals that he did not subscribe to.

It is his constitutional right not to prostrate before any idol or deity. That's the right he exercised. Article 25 of the Indian Constitution guarantees freedom of conscience and the right to freely profess, practice, and propagate religion. I'd like to ask the learned judges if they've ever seen a Hindu or Sikh commanding officer lead his troops to a mosque and perform namaz like a devout Muslim?

In Kamalesan's case, a molehill was inflated into a mountain. He was harassed relentlessly. His superiors ensured he never got to attend the Young Officers' Course. He was denied an opportunity to serve in Lebanon with his troops—an experience that would have given him global exposure and, incidentally, a bit of foreign exchange.

Eventually, he was denied promotions and then summarily dismissed, as though he had committed a grave crime. The court invoked lofty phrases like "nation before self" and "religion before self," but turned a blind eye to the sincere conviction of a Christian officer for whom idol worship is unacceptable—just as it is for a devout Sikh and an Arya Samaji Hindu.

The judiciary was not always so rigid. My friend, Justice Kurian Joseph of the Supreme Court, refused to attend a judges' conference called by the Chief Justice on Good Friday. It is one of the most sacred days for Christians, marking the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and his ultimate sacrifice for the redemption of humanity's sins.

The Justice sent a letter of protest. He was not sacked. I also recall Fali S. Nariman often quoting the Supreme Court judgment that reinstated two Kerala children expelled from school for refusing to sing the national anthem due to their Jehovah's Witness beliefs. The children stood respectfully but remained silent—an act of conscience, not defiance. The courts below upheld the expulsion, but the Supreme Court upheld their rights under the Constitution.

Tyagaraja, the great Carnatic composer, refused a post in the court of the Raja of Thanjavur. He said he would compose only for his Gods, not for any king. Yet, he was not dismissed without gratuity or pension!

Kamalesan, being a Christian, could not be expected to perform religious rituals alien to his faith. Even an atheist would baulk at entering a temple, mosque, or church and performing rituals he doesn't believe in. Ironically, these parade traditions were introduced by the British primarily to preserve caste hierarchies among soldiers. After 78 years of independence, India still clings to regimental identities like Rajput, Sikh, and Jat Regiments. Why have we failed to evolve a national consciousness in our armed forces?

We blame the British for caste divisions, yet we now actively embrace the same narrow loyalties. And while a young officer is punished for standing by his conscience, a serving General visits a swami in full uniform and casually promises to retrieve Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir as dakshina. If the court really believed in zero tolerance, it should have taken suo motu action against the General for this performative patriotism dressed up as divine servitude.

In the end, the judges thundered like Solomon but ruled like Sancho Panza—mistaking a soldier's sincere faith for insubordination while turning a blind eye to those who mix uniforms with unctuousness and constitutional duty with divine barter.

One can only hope that this is not the end of the road for Lt. Samuel Kamalesan. The injustice meted out to him cries out for judicial correction of the highest order. His dismissal not only undermines the secular fabric of the Indian Army but also violates his fundamental right to practice his faith without coercion or humiliation.

If our democracy still holds true to its constitutional promises, the Supreme Court must intervene to undo this grave wrong. After all, the apex court has a proud legacy of standing up for the rights of individuals, especially in matters of conscience and belief. It must now rise to the occasion once more and restore dignity, justice, and balance in a case where the system has clearly failed a principled young officer.