In the loud and restless arena of modern public discourse, one frequently
encounters a peculiar claim: that India’s legal system is incomplete without
direct submission to the Vedas, Upanishads, or other religious scriptures. On
the opposite side stand those who insist that secular constitutionalism must
reject every trace of civilizational inheritance. Both positions are deeply
flawed because they fail to understand the Indian experience itself. India has
never grown through absolute rejection. It has evolved through continuity,
reinterpretation, and dialogue between tradition and modernity.
The Indian Constitution is not a foreign body imposed upon an unwilling
civilization. Nor is it a mere copy of Western liberalism detached from Indian
soil. It is a modern democratic framework infused with values that have echoed
through Indian thought for centuries. The language may be constitutional and
secular, but the moral imagination behind it is profoundly connected to India’s
civilizational understanding of justice, order, duty, and collective welfare.
To understand this continuity, one must first understand the ancient Indian
idea of ṛta. The Rigveda spoke of ṛta as the cosmic order that
governed the universe itself. It was not merely a religious concept but a
principle of truth, balance, and justice. Even the gods were subject to ṛta.
No king, priest, or warrior could stand above it. This idea represents one of
humanity’s earliest articulations of the rule of law. In modern India, the
Constitution occupies a similar place. It stands above governments, political
parties, and institutions. It binds power to principle.
The irony of contemporary political rhetoric is that many who loudly invoke
“dharma” often undermine the very spirit of ṛta. They speak of cultural
pride while simultaneously attacking constitutional institutions whenever
judgments or laws do not suit ideological preferences. The Vedic vision did not
glorify unchecked power. It restrained power through moral order. That is precisely
what constitutionalism seeks to achieve today.
The Upanishads deepened this ethical understanding. The injunction “सत्यं वद, धर्मं चर” meaning “speak the truth, walk in dharma” was not
merely spiritual advice but a philosophy of ethical living. Dharma, in its
classical sense, was never confined to ritual identity or sectarian assertion.
It referred to conduct rooted in truth, justice, fairness, and responsibility.
Modern constitutional morality reflects this very principle. Equality
before law, freedom of speech, dignity of the individual, and protection of
liberty are contemporary legal expressions of an ancient ethical vision.
Articles 14, 19, and 21 of the Constitution are not alien abstractions
disconnected from Indian civilization. They embody values deeply compatible
with the moral philosophy that evolved across centuries in India.
Yet the tragedy of modern politics lies in the reduction of dharma into
performance. Dharma today is often marketed through slogans, hashtags,
television debates, and performative outrage. Instead of being understood as
justice or ethical responsibility, it is converted into a weapon of identity
politics. One hears grand declarations that “true law” must come from
scripture, while actual issues of justice remain neglected. Courts struggle
with delays. Ordinary citizens struggle for basic rights. Institutions face
pressure. But social media warriors remain busy deciding who is sufficiently
“cultural.”
This is not reverence for tradition. It is the caricature of tradition.
If one genuinely studies Indian philosophical traditions, one discovers
that they constantly encouraged introspection, debate, and reinterpretation.
The Upanishads themselves are structured around questioning. Buddhist
traditions challenged ritual orthodoxy. Jain philosophy emphasized non violence
and ethical restraint. The Bhakti movement questioned rigid hierarchies. Sikh
teachings emphasized equality and justice. India’s civilizational strength lay
not in uniformity but in intellectual plurality.
The Constitution carries forward this spirit of plurality. It does not
belong to one religion, caste, or ideology. It belongs equally to every
citizen. That universality is precisely what makes it deeply Indian.
The Yajurveda offers a powerful articulation of collective welfare:
“सर्वे भवन्तु सुखिनः, सर्वे सन्तु निरामयाः।
सर्वे भद्राणि पश्यन्तु, मा कश्चिद् दुःखभाग्भवेत्॥”
May all be happy. May all be free from suffering. May all experience well
being. May none suffer.
This prayer is not sectarian. It does not ask for prosperity for one group
alone. It envisions universal welfare. The Directive Principles of State Policy
echo the same spirit through commitments to public health, social justice,
education, and welfare. The constitutional promise of justice is therefore not
separate from India’s moral traditions. It is their democratic evolution.
The Arthashastra of Kautilya provides another fascinating bridge between
ancient and modern governance. Though often portrayed merely as a text of
political realism, it repeatedly emphasizes that the ruler’s duty is to protect
the vulnerable and maintain social order. The legitimacy of governance depended
upon public welfare. In many ways, modern welfare legislation and
constitutional obligations continue this concern for collective stability and
justice.
At the same time, Kautilya would probably have viewed much of contemporary
political hypocrisy with sharp amusement. Today, leaders invoke morality during
elections while overlooking inequality, corruption, and institutional decay.
Dharma becomes a slogan during campaigns and disappears during governance. If
ancient thinkers returned today, they might be astonished not by India’s
secular Constitution but by the casual misuse of sacred vocabulary for short
term political gain.
Buddhist traditions further transformed Indian political ethics through the
idea of compassion as governance. Emperor Ashoka’s edicts are among the
earliest examples of moral statecraft. They emphasized tolerance, humane
treatment, welfare measures, and environmental concern. His dhamma was not
about religious domination. It was about ethical governance.
Modern constitutional jurisprudence reflects similar concerns.
Environmental protections, the right to life, welfare rights, and protections
for marginalized communities are all expressions of a legal philosophy that
recognizes human dignity as central to governance.
This continuity between ancient ethics and modern constitutionalism becomes
even clearer when one examines the Preamble of the Constitution. Justice,
liberty, equality, and fraternity are not merely political slogans borrowed
from elsewhere. They resonate deeply with Indian philosophical traditions.
Justice reflects the
Vedic concern for order.
Liberty reflects the Upanishadic search for truth and self realization.
Equality reflects centuries of resistance against hierarchy and oppression.
Fraternity reflects the civilizational idea that society survives through
mutual respect and shared humanity.
The Constitution did not emerge in opposition to Indian civilization. It
emerged from within India’s historical struggle to refine and democratize its
moral ideals.
Dr. B.R. Ambedkar understood this deeply. While he sharply criticized
oppressive social practices justified through selective readings of scripture,
he also recognized the ethical importance of dhamma. For Ambedkar,
democracy was not merely institutional machinery. It was a moral order rooted
in liberty, equality, and fraternity. In many ways, Ambedkar transformed
ancient ethical aspirations into constitutional guarantees.
This is why attempts to portray the Constitution as “anti Indian” are
intellectually dishonest. Such claims ignore both history and philosophy. The
Constitution is perhaps the most Indian document ever created precisely because
it synthesizes diverse traditions into a framework of modern justice. It draws
from global constitutional ideas while remaining rooted in Indian realities and
ethical imagination.
Equally flawed are those who dismiss every reference to dharma or
civilizational ethics as inherently regressive. Secularism in India was never
meant to mean hostility toward tradition. It meant equal respect, neutrality of
the state, and protection of diversity. The Constitution does not erase
cultural memory. It prevents cultural domination.
India’s genius has always been its ability to absorb, reinterpret, and
transform. Ancient wisdom and modern law are not enemies. They are connected
chapters of the same civilizational story.
The real conflict today is not between dharma and the Constitution. The
real conflict is between justice and propaganda, between ethical governance and
performative politics, between constitutional morality and ideological theatre.
When dharma is reduced to shouting matches on television, it loses its
depth. When constitutionalism becomes mere legal technicality without moral
purpose, it loses its soul. India needs neither blind traditionalism nor
rootless modernity. It needs an honest understanding that sacred order and
secular law can coexist through the common pursuit of justice.
To uphold the Constitution is not to reject India’s civilizational
heritage. It is to carry forward its finest ethical aspirations in a democratic
form. The Constitution gives legal structure to ancient ideals of truth,
fairness, welfare, and dignity.
The next time someone declares that the Constitution must submit to
scripture, the answer is simple: the deepest values of Indian civilization
already live within the Constitution. They survive not through slogans, but
through justice.
Sacred order and secular law are not opposing worlds. They are India’s
shared legacy.
Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an advocate at the Supreme Court of India and
a commentator on law, politics and society. His writings blend legal insight
with social critique and aim to provoke reflection on power, justice and public
conscience.
Email: ssmishra33@gmail.com
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