2024: Love Jihad – A Socio-Political Weapon: Caste, Endogamy, and Hindutva’s Grip on gender and social boundaries in India

This article examines how “Love Jihad” reinforces caste hierarchies, Hindutva politics, and patriarchal control in India’s 2024 socio-political landscape

This article explores the discourse around the term “Love Jihad” in India, mainly focusing on how its propagation functions as a socio-political tool to uphold caste hierarchies through preserving upper-caste Hindu endogamy, especially in year 2024.

Through a critical analysis of media narratives, state interventions, and cultural rhetoric, the article examines how the term “Love Jihad” taps into historical anxieties about caste boundaries and sexual control over Hindu (upper-caste) women. Additionally, it highlights how this narrative operates within a broader framework of Hindutva politics that seeks to maintain socio-religious boundaries and reinforce patriarchal control, therefore, its impact on the everyday lives of women in society.

Locating the violence

Behind the meticulous task of monitoring and verifying hate crime cases compiled by Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), integral to the organisation’s ‘Hate Hatao’ program across India, a trend can be discerned over the past four to six years. This regular monitoring is reflected in the Nafrat ka Naqsha (map) that meticulously depicts such classified incidents for ready reference. There have been multiple cases of crimes related to disrupting interfaith marriages, attacking Muslim men for “hanging out with Hindu women,” and vice versa by accusing couples involved in this association of “love jihad.”[1] For instance, on January 20, 2023, in Indore, Madhya Pradesh, a 24-year-old Hindu woman was celebrating her birthday with her friends when a mob, allegedly comprised of Bajrang Dal men, barged into the house and started assaulting the Muslim men on allegations of “Love Jihad.”[2] These Muslim men were later taken to the MIG Colony police station, where they were put in custody. The video of this incident went viral the next day.

In another case, on June 30, 2024, Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) and Bajrang Dal members[3] created a disturbance outside a Police station in protest against an interfaith marriage between a Hindu and Muslim couple after they applied to register the marriage in Uttar Pradesh’s Bijnor. A Hindu woman and a Muslim man had decided to get married and followed the appropriate legal procedure by applying for their marriage registration under the Special Marriage Act of 1954. As soon as the news of the couple’s application to register their marriage spread,[4] an appropriately readied mob hit the streets, staging aggressive demonstrations and making inflammatory statements to stop the marriage. The mob accused a couple of engaging in ‘love jihad,’ a conspiracy theory propagated by Hindu right-wing organisations to convey that Muslim men are luring Hindu women into both marriage and conversion. The mob threatened the police with aggravating communal tensions in the city if the marriage was not stopped! The couple had followed all legal procedures, submitting the necessary documents to the authorities in a move that should have been straightforward. However, their decision to marry was met with outrage from local right-wing Hindu groups. This incident also highlights the fragility of communal relations and the deep-seated biases that persist within Indian society.

In a fictional world, back in 2020, the jewellery brand Tanishq, part of the esteemed Tata Group, created an advertisement titled “Ekatvam,” a Sanskrit term that translates to “Unity.” The ad showcased the story of an interfaith couple, specifically, a Hindu woman who had married into a Muslim family. The narrative unfolded around a baby shower ceremony organised by the Muslim in-laws to honour their Hindu daughter-in-law, highlighting themes of acceptance, harmony, and the blending of different cultural practices. The advertisement was intended to convey a message of inclusivity, celebrating the unity of cultures through gestures of love and familial support. However, the ad faced a significant backlash on social media, particularly from organised right wing trolls associated with specific segments of Hindu nationalist groups and right-wing activists, who accused the brand of promoting an agenda referred to as “love jihad,” the alleged encouragement of Muslim men to marry Hindu women to convert them.[5]

This criticism so far escalated (or was made to escalate!) on social media — hashtags like #BoycottTanishq began to trend—leading to panic in the corporate entity that had put out the ad, attempting a message of social cohesion. With calls for a boycott of the brand gaining momentum online, Tanishq was forced to withdraw the advertisement in response to the mounting pressure. The entity issued an official apology, clarifying that they had aimed to spread a message of peace and togetherness, not “to provoke or offend.” In a post truth India, messages of harmony and cohesion are considered offensive! The same ultra-nationalists who had previously admired Tata’s philanthropic contributions during the COVID-19 pandemic, even dubbing the Tata group “true nationalists” saw no problem in this violent and stark reaction to the Tanishq ‘Ekatvam’ ad, an ad which aimed to promote social harmony through the portrayal of a Hindu-Muslim family. Despite Tata’s well-crafted reputation for supporting communities in need, some viewers criticised Tanishq’s message of cultural inclusivity, viewing it through the lens of ‘Love Jihad.’ A similar controversy emerged after the series ‘The Suitable Boy’ aired on Netflix, which has the lead character, a Hindu girl called Lata, passionately kissing a Muslim boy against the backdrop of a temple. Politician Gaurav Tiwari from the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) youth wing had claimed that this scene “hurt religious sentiments” of Hindus and demanded Netflix to remove the ‘objectionable’ scene and apologise for encouraging ‘love jihad.’ He also called for a boycott of the Netflix streaming platform.[6]

Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP) has documented several cases illustrating the growing controversy and societal tension surrounding interfaith relationships in India as part of its Hate Watch initiative across India. Monitoring, acting on hate complaints and depicting trends is core to this programme. All these cases reveal a concerning trend in which couples from different faith backgrounds face increasing hostility, driven by strong currents of intolerance and division within society. This hostility is not isolated; instead, it reflects an organized and systematic effort to stigmatize and communalize interfaith unions. This article examines these patterns and explains the ideological connections to Brahmanical patriarchy behind such divisive societal practices.

‘Love Jihad’ and the organised nature of anti-Muslim hate narrative:

It is a well-established fact that interfaith and inter-caste marriages, regardless of the religion of the individuals involved, have been vehemently opposed in India. This opposition is not limited to Hindu-Muslim marriages. There are numerous instances where couples belonging to different faiths, including Hindu, Christian, Muslim, Sikhs, Jains, and also sub-castes of the same religion faced difficulties going ahead with their interfaith and inter-caste relationships. In 2009, the Kerala Catholic Bishops Council (KCBC),[7] a prominent body within Kerala’s Catholic Church, played a significant role in amplifying the narrative of ‘love jihad.’ The KCBC claimed that approximately 4,500 Christian women had been manipulated or ‘conned’ into relationships that resulted in their conversion to Islam.[8] These assertions by the Catholic Church in Kerala became a central point in discussions around the ‘love jihad’ controversy, contributing to its prominence in both state and national discourse. The BJP and various Hindutva organisations have escalated this issue by terming it a systematic agenda of the Muslims as a religious community to lure Hindu women and convert them to Islam as part of their larger goal of achieving demographic imbalance in South Asia through Ghazwa-e-Hind.[9

Going back to its origin, the term “love jihad” first came into prominent public discussion in the states of Karnataka and Kerala. The “Hindu Janajagruti Samiti,” a Hindu nationalist organisation, first used the term “love jihad” in the year 2007 during their campaign of policing interfaith couples in public places.[10] However, it was not very popular in public discourse. After the cases emerged from Kerala in the year 2009, where two non-Muslim girls were converted after marriage to their respective Muslim partners, the term “love jihad” resurfaced. In those cases, girls who eloped with their Muslim partners initially expressed their desire to remain with their respective partners; later, they changed their statements and wished to return to their parents. This was the first time the term got an official mention of judicial proceedings while hearing the bail petitions of two Muslim youths involved. The judge ordered a police investigation to know in detail about the alleged “love jihad” movement.[11] However, the police inquiry did not find any substantial evidence proving the alleged “love jihad” movement among Muslims. These attempts to revive “love jihad” as a conspiracy theory did not gain much currency until 2014.

After the BJP came into power in 2014, they (and their offshoot organisations who work as the ‘brown shorts of the regime’) started utilising selective incidents of gender violence to divide the communities further and polarise them on communal lines for the political advantages, where victims belonged to the Hindu community and accused Muslims. In the recent past, in 2022, in Shraddha Walkar’s case- the gruesome murder of Shraddha Walkar by her live-in partner Aftab Poonawala in Chattarpur, Delhi, political leaders were seen peddling the conspiracy theory of “love jihad.” Poonawala admitted his crime in which he strangled Walker, chopping her body into 35 pieces, storing them in a refrigerator, and dumping them in the Mehrauli forest for 18 days.[12] Politicians like Giriraj Singh, BJP MP from Bihar, while referring to Walkar’s case, said, “Under a conspiracy, non-Muslims and Hindu girls are being targeted through love affairs, and if they refuse religious conversion, they face the fate that Shraddha faced. This is a heinous crime, and such incidents have forced the people of India to think.” Another BJP politician, Ram Kadam, an MLA from Maharashtra, wrote a letter to the Delhi Police Commissioner, seeking a proper inquiry into Shraddha’s case, investigating a possible ‘love jihad’ angle.

In another incident, Nitesh Rane, also a BJP MLA from Maharashtra, was also seen giving hate speeches after the tragic death of Yashashree Shinde, a Dalit girl from Uran, Maharashtra, who was a victim of gender violence committed by a Muslim youth, Dawood Shaikh.[13] Yashashree’s case also reveals how incidents involving Hindu-Muslim dynamics are manipulated for political purposes, but often in selective and inconsistent ways. In her case, the accused was a Muslim man, which initially sparked interest among Hindutva leaders and right-wing groups. In his inflammatory remarks, Rane has called for the “elimination” of Muslims who are involved in relationships with Hindu women, painting Muslims broadly as a threat to Hindu women’s safety, connecting and blaming the entire community for the crime committed by an individual.

By framing incidents of gender violence within a Hindu-Muslim narrative, political leaders like Giriraj Singh, Ram Kadam, and Nitesh Rane capitalise on communal fears (these are also regularly stoked and based on irrational misgivings), side-lining the actual issues of gendered violence and social justice. Human rights lawyer Asim Sarode has pointed out on his social media post that once the Yashashree case began receiving (and had a socially disruptive impact) attention for its Hindu-Muslim angle, Hindutva leaders exploited it to polarise communities and further fuel communal tensions. That is until the case remained a “hot topic of discussion” in a pliant and un-discerning media. Subsequently, no Hindutva leader cared for the individuals affected; the case was “dropped” with no consistent follow-up and financial help to the victim’s family. In fact, Sarode’s consistent follow-up ensured the government released help grants to the victim’s family.[14]

This pick-and-dispose attitude for propaganda purposes, followed by abandonment, reflects these leaders’ selective concern, often guided more by communal interest than genuine empathy or a commitment to justice for the victim. Yashashree’s case, especially in light of the selective outrage demonstrated by Hindutva leaders, rather than addressing the underlying issues of gender violence or caste-based discrimination, is exploited for political advantage, amplifying religious and communal divides. This approach highlights the instrumental use of gender violence cases within a polarising agenda that focuses less on justice and more on advancing communal agendas.

Hate speeches by influential right-wing leaders, politicians, and organisations have fuelled this rhetoric, painting Muslims as predators and stirring up fear among Hindu families about the safety and honour of their daughters. Such speeches often emphasise “protecting Hindu daughters,” drawing on the cultural symbolism of women as bearers of community honour. This narrative feeds into long-standing communal stereotypes and pre-existing biases, deepening societal divisions. These speeches deliberately aggravate tensions, fostering mistrust and hostility between communities. This rhetoric not only vilifies Muslim men but also contributes to a culture where Hindu women are seen as needing “protection” from supposed threats outside their community.

This trend of prevalent insecurities among parents over their daughter’s choice to marry Muslim men can also be observed in the case of Hadiya, formerly Akhila Asokan, a Hindu-born medical student from Kerala who converted to Islam and married a Muslim man named Shafin Jahan. Hadiya became a focal point of the “Love Jihad” controversy in 2017, the discourse around denying her both agency and autonomy.[15] After Akhila Asokan adopted Islam and her new name, Hadiya, her father, K M Asokan, contested her marriage in the Kerala High Court, alleging that she had been coerced into conversion. In response, the court “invalidated Hadiya’s marriage” and placed her in her parents’ custody, against her wish, a decision that reflected a broader societal suspicion toward interfaith marriages involving Muslim men and rejecting the agency for women to make decisions in her life.

Shafin Jahan took the matter to the Supreme Court of India, arguing that Hadiya had converted and married him to her wish. In a landmark ruling in March 2018, the Supreme Court overturned the Kerala High Court’s decision, asserting Hadiya’s right to freedom of religion and choice in marriage. However, the Supreme Court’s directive for an investigation by the National Investigation Agency (NIA) into the alleged “love jihad” aspect further highlighted the alarming trend of public pressure on judicial and investigating agencies rooted in the upper caste anxieties around interfaith relationships in India. Significantly, in October 2018, the NIA found no evidence of a coordinated conspiracy aimed at converting non-Muslim women to Islam through marriage. Therefore, ‘love jihad’ is very systematically created categories by right-wing ideologies across the religious and political spectrum, who presently enjoy proximity to those in power, in the union, and several states.

Love Jihad Laws: criminalising personal choices through state-endorsed Islamophobia.

In a widely shared video on social media, Pravin Togadia, president of the far-right extremist group Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP), is seen administering an oath to hundreds of Hindus. The offender in the video uses Hate Speech when addressing a big audience and saying that they need to work on getting a Population control law, a “love jihad” law, and kicking out Bangladeshis (often a reference to Muslims) out of India. The incident was reported in the Palwal district of Haryana on 24th January 2023.[16] Members of Hindu Janakrosh Morcha held three public rallies and processions in February 2023 in Maharashtra’s Vashi, Solapur, and Vasai towns, raising slogans in demand of “Hindu Rashtra” and making calls for laws against ‘love jihad’ and also raised slogans demanding capital punishment for interfaith marriages and alleged forceful conversions by calling “Hang Love Jihadis” repeatedly amidst a busy street.[17]

This narrative framed around the allegation that Muslim men are systematically converting non-Muslim women through marriage has become a powerful political tool, and its influence was evident in the judicial and legislative responses, which are not limited to one region or state; it has a more profound impact and consequences across the country. Such tales of organizing protest marches and mobilizing people around fake narratives of ‘love jihad’ to influence the state have paved the way for a slew of new State laws that penalise interfaith marriages under the guise of preventing forced conversions despite no credible evidence to support the prevalence of “love jihad.” The BJP-ruled states brought out laws that restricted individuals from converting to marry someone from other religions. The acts passed by the states of Uttarakhand and Himachal Pradesh were the first to introduce a clause regarding marriages. Uttarakhand’s Freedom of Religion Act, 2018 prohibits conversion by misrepresentation, force, fraud, undue influence, coercion, allurement, or marriage. Its punishment ranges from a jail term of one to five years and a fine, making it a non-bailable offense. Himachal Pradesh also passed a similar law in 2019. These laws are popularly called “love jihad” Laws.

Interestingly, legal history points to the fact of the existence of the Freedom of Religion Acts passed by different State governments in India at various points in time before BJP-ruled States passed these ‘love jihad’ laws. For example, the Orissa Freedom of Religion Act came into existence in 1967, the Madhya Pradesh Freedom of Religion Act in 1968, the Chhattisgarh Freedom of Religion Act in 1968, and the Arunachal Pradesh Freedom of Religion Act in 1978. These acts, brought in at the time of the United Front governments, including the Jan Sangh in the 1960s, were limited to the issue of proselytization and conversion. They did not enter the terrain of the private lives of individuals. Recently passed laws directly violate fundamental freedoms and interfere with people’s choice of marrying someone from a different faith and religion.

In this context, the right to choose (and autonomy) of every other adult woman who either cohabited or married by choice, either through conversion or not, to another faith is prone to be questioned to the point that these choices are even criminalized. They are deemed invalid by the state and judiciary, which not only negates their right to marry but also places women under their parents’ custody. In December 2020, a video clip that showed a group of men, with orange scarves draped around their necks, mocking a woman in Moradabad town in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh went viral. “It’s because of people like you that this law had to be enacted,” one of the men scolds her. The hecklers were from Bajrang Dal, a hardliner Hindu group that supports the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The law they were talking about was the ‘Prohibition of Unlawful Religious Conversion Ordinance,’ which the Uttar Pradesh state has recently brought in to target ‘love jihad.’ The incident in the video took place on 5th December. The Bajrang Dal activists handed over the 22-year-old woman, her husband, and his brother to the police, who then sent her to a government shelter and arrested the men.[18]

These legal enactments, all brought in by states governed by the BJP, restrict the movement and have forced adult women to live against their own will. Such laws reflect an implicit bias. They also reflect the patriarchal mind-set of our system that believes women cannot convert nor marry off their own free will, violating their fundamental rights guaranteed by our constitution. Such policy interventions underscore the tendency for state bodies to act paternalistically in cases of interfaith relationships, mainly where the individuals involved belong to a Muslim minority group and a Hindu majority group. Such proceedings set a troubling precedent that individual autonomy can be overruled if society or family alleges coercion, especially when the decision involves crossing religious boundaries.

Hadiya’s legal struggle brings to light the deep-seated challenges surrounding individual autonomy and fear of losing the honour of the family and the community due to interfaith relationships in India, mainly when such relationships involve religious conversion. However, her case symbolised the broader debate on the right to personal choice versus societal and familial pressures. This conflict has only intensified with the rise of the “love jihad” narrative.

On December 15, 2020, a 32-year-old labourer named Nadeeb faced accusations of “trapping” a married Hindu woman in a “net of love” with the intent of converting her. The Allahabad High Court stepped in, temporarily halting the arrest of a Muslim man from Muzaffarnagar, Uttar Pradesh, under the state’s newly implemented anti-conversion law. In its ruling, the court asserted that both Nadeeb and the woman are adults who possess a “fundamental right to privacy” and are fully aware of the implications of their alleged relationship. The court further highlighted that “Article 25 of the Indian Constitution guarantees all individuals the freedom of conscience and the right to freely profess, practice, and propagate their religion, subject to public order, morality, and health, along with other provisions specified in Part III of the Constitution, which encompasses fundamental rights.”[19]

Such Court rulings, including the one in Hadiya’s favour, were a landmark for personal freedom, affirming the right to religious and marital choice. However, the Supreme Court’s decision to involve the National Investigation Agency (NIA) added a layer of surveillance and complexity. By directing India’s top counter-terrorism agency to investigate Hadiya’s marriage for any “love jihad” motives, the Court acknowledged, though indirectly, the influence of the “love jihad” discourse. This move illustrated how easily personal choices, such as conversion and marriage, can be transformed into matters of national security under a climate of Islamophobia, where Muslim motives are scrutinised under the assumption of potential threat. Despite the NIA’s eventual conclusion that there was no conspiracy, the investigation itself highlighted the extent to which individual relationships can become subject to governmental scrutiny when framed within communal narratives.

Legislative and judicial responses in such cases represent the struggle between individual rights and social or political agendas. When state and legal mechanisms are influenced by narratives like “love jihad,” personal freedoms, specifically for individuals from minority communities, are compromised under the guise of protecting societal interests. This politicisation of personal decisions reflects a government-endorsed Islamophobia that subtly sanctions anti-Muslim biases in the guise of public order, using such cases to fuel stereotypes and communal distrust. These “love jihad” cases stand as a reminder of the precarious position of individual autonomy within a framework where interfaith relationships become fodder for divisive narratives, affecting the personal lives of countless individuals. They also illustrate the potential for personal decisions, such as religious conversion and marriage, to become politicised under a climate of State-endorsed Islamophobia. These cases underscore the impact of “love jihad” narratives, which, despite lacking substantiation, have influenced state policies and judicial proceedings.

Love Jihad: upholding caste endogamy to preserve caste hierarchies by opposing conversion through marriage

The narratives surrounding interfaith marriages, often referred to as “love jihad,” and the associated anti-conversion campaigns aim to restrict social mobility by opposing conversions that arise from these marriages. Stemming from Hindutva ideology and its non-missionary religious practices, the antipathy of privileged sections to depressed castes who have historically converted (aspiring to a life of dignity) is evident. Historically, religious conversion among marginalised communities has been problematized and questioned. Though an act of active real and spiritual affirmation, ‘conversions’ have been reduced to acts of allurement.’ Caste being a brute reality of Hindu faith and practice, the historical notion of conversion is anathema as the act of conversion would snatch away the power of dominant caste hierarchies to maintain a cruel and exclusivist status quo. At the root of the resonant insecurities and accusations stems, therefore, from the non-missionary nature of the Hindu religion.

In the Hindu fold, there is no option of becoming part of the faith through conversion, and the only way to be Hindu is to be born in one of the thousands of castes that are segregated and placed in vertical hierarchies. Any individual leaving this religious order by quitting their caste membership and joining some other religious order directly affects the existence of Hinduism as a religion. Therefore, the religious conversions to other missionary religions, such as Islam and Christianity in the Indian context, are termed “violent acts” and are accused of “disturbing the social fabric and age-old traditions and culture in local communities.” Conversion has also been described as a conflict between “local and foreign religions.” These arguments try to portray Hinduism as a peaceful, non-missionary religion that never disrupts the socio-cultural fabric of other religious faiths, as it is alleged that other missionary religions do to Hinduism.

Arguably, however, defending the non-missionary nature of Hinduism is like effectively enforcing caste-based hierarchies, as there is no other way to transcend these caste boundaries within Hinduism. These narratives position Hinduism as a “non-missionary” religion and portray missionary religions as violent disruptors of local culture; they, however, conveniently overlook the violence and oppression inherent in enforcing caste and the social order it sustains. The claim of Hinduism as a non-missionary religion, rather than being peaceful, serves as a tool to confine individuals to their birth-determined caste and religion, ensuring no opportunity for social mobility or escape from marginalized positions. The politically coined ‘ghar wapasi’ (return to the fold) concept coined by a militant Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) is a product of the 1990s. It is also an effort to bring back converted Hindus to their “home” religion, but again to their respective caste. Inter-caste and interfaith marriages are ways people could transgress these rigid boundaries. Therefore, this rigidity of opposing inter-caste and interfaith marriages favours those born into privileged castes, as it reinforces their social advantage while keeping lower castes in a disadvantaged role.

In this context, Hindutva’s stance against “love jihad” and religious conversion extends beyond claims of cultural preservation; it represents a deliberate strategy that limits individual freedoms, mainly targeting those seeking dignity and equality outside the traditional caste framework. By framing interfaith relationships and conversions as threats, this stance works to preserve the status quo of caste hierarchies, blocking pathways for social mobility and preventing individuals from escaping their designated social roles. This restriction is incredibly oppressive for women, who are often cast as the bearers of the family’s honour. Within this ideology, a woman’s body, choices, and movements are policed to ensure she remains within the bounds set by her family and community, reinforcing control over her autonomy. Their decisions—especially in choosing life partners or religious identities—are scrutinized and, when seen as violations, are punished severely.

In India’s rigidly hierarchical caste structure, the “upper caste,” for instance, has often taken extreme measures to prevent alliances that would challenge caste boundaries. Numerous tragic cases reveal the extent to which upper caste families are willing to go to “protect” their caste’s perceived honour, with parents or other relatives sometimes resorting to the ultimate violence of honour killings of the low caste men. In March 2024, a couple belonging to the dominant Vellalar Gounder caste in Erode, Tamil Nadu, attempted to murder their Dalit son-in-law, J Subhash- an Adi Dravidar Man. The Vellalar Gounder couple Chandran and Chitra rammed their pick-up truck into a Dalit man’s bike while he was out to drop his younger sister Harini to school, intending to kill him for marrying their daughter, and ended up killing his sister.[20] In another case, on 14th July 2024, a Dalit man, Amit Murlidhar Salunkhe, was attacked with sharp weapons by his father-in-law and brother-in-law belonging to the dominant OBC caste in the Sambhaji Nagar city of Maharashtra. He was immediately admitted to a local hospital, where he passed away on July 25.[21] His wife, Vidya Kirtishahi, told the police that her parents had cited the plot of the popular Marathi-language film Sairat while warning her against the marriage. Nagraj Manjule’s film, released in 2016, tells the story of a dominant-caste girl who falls in love with and eventually marries a lower-caste boy. They are hacked to death by members of the girl’s family in retaliation.

Though these instances frequently target low-caste men for marrying upper-caste women, there are also cases in which both partners have been killed for defying caste boundaries; in one of the cases where the whole Jat village of Ballah in Haryana is proud of the “honour killing” of a young couple. It was a dreadful killing of 21-year-old Sunitha, who was three weeks pregnant, and her 22-year-old husband, Jasbir Singh.[22] Their bodies, half-stripped, were laid out on the dirt outside Sunita’s father’s house for all to see, a sign that the family’s “honour” had been restored by their cold-blooded murder. An entire village stands united behind the act, proud and defiant, to teach the lesson to the couples thinking of entering into marital ties with upper-caste women of the same village.

In another case, in September 2024, a couple from the same upper castes married each other in Ahmedabad, Gujarat. The 19-year-old woman had to pay the price for it as her family members allegedly murdered her, as they disapproved of her relationship with a man who belonged to the same community and village as theirs. It is considered taboo for a man and woman of the same village to marry. Although the couple were unrelated, they were considered brothers and sisters in the community to which they belonged. The Kanbha police booked five people, including the woman’s father, uncles, and cousins, for not only killing her but also for trying to dispose of her body by secretly burning it in their Bakrol village in Daskroi tehsil.[23]

While honour killings are often associated with rigid practices among certain upper-caste families, similar cases have also been documented among so-called lower-caste and non-Hindu tribal communities. Recently, in September 2024, a tragic incident took place in the Koppal district of Karnataka, where the in-laws of a 21-year-old woman from the Madiga community, classified as Scheduled Caste (SC), was killed by poisoning her food.[24] This cruel act, which occurred after her marriage to a man from the Scheduled Tribe (ST) community, was unequivocally an act of honour killing that must be condemned. Such heart-breaking incidents are one of many reminders of the deep-seated violence women face, often rooted in the oppressive structures of a patriarchal society. While caste-based discrimination played a role in this case, the underlying issue speaks to a broader societal problem: the control exerted over women’s autonomy and choices in a male-dominated culture.

Like inter-caste marriages, interfaith marriages also challenge societal norms and religious boundaries, often provoking similar violent responses. The tragic case of Yagnik Dudharejiya, a Hindu man from the Devbhumi Dwarka district of Gujarat, exemplifies this. Yagnik was reportedly murdered by the relatives of his Muslim wife, who disapproved of their union.[25] Incidents like this highlight the difficulties young couples face in defying traditional expectations. Inter-caste and interfaith marriages, therefore, irrespective of one’s identity, have long been symbolic of the courage required to bridge societal divides and challenge entrenched norms. These unions are often seen as bold steps toward a more inclusive society, where individuals are free to marry based on love and personal choice rather than the constraints of caste, religion, or community expectations. However, these choices can come with profound challenges and risks of honour killing. Such deaths underscore the intense social pressures and familial opposition when they choose to defy traditional expectations, especially in conservative communities where boundaries between caste and religious identities remain deeply entrenched.

These incidents shed light on a broader societal issue: the resistance to relationships that cross religious or caste lines, driven by cultural traditions, fear of community backlash, and the perceived threat to family honour revolving around women. For such families, preserving cultural purity is women’s duty. It outweighs the importance of their personal happiness or individual choice. Couples who cross these lines have to endure social ostracism, harassment, and even violence, highlighting the intense polarization that persists around matters of marriage. Such violent reactions reflect a broader resistance to relationships that cross perceived social and cultural boundaries, demonstrating that the outrage often ascribed to “love jihad” is part of a larger pattern of controlling individual choices in the name of preserving the community’s “honour.” In reality, both interfaith and inter-caste couples challenge rigid social structures. They are met with hostility, suggesting that the fundamental resistance is to individual autonomy and choice, irrespective of religious affiliation. By selectively framing only interfaith relationships involving Muslim men as a “threat,” the “Love Jihad” narrative manipulates public sentiment and leverages communal tensions, ultimately side-lining the rights and autonomy of individuals. In this context, it becomes clear that “love jihad” is not a genuine social issue but rather a political farce designed to incite fear and demonize a particular community, obscuring the deeper societal problems that perpetuate discrimination and violence in the name of honour and tradition.

Conclusion:

Both interfaith and inter-caste couples present a challenge to entrenched social structures, facing hostility and violence for asserting their autonomy. This hostility symbolizes the fundamental resistance to individual freedom, irrespective of religious affiliation. The framing of “love jihad” as a threat allows for the selective targeting of Muslims while deliberately ignoring genuine issues of social and caste-based discrimination. In reality, the “love jihad” narrative serves as a political tool rather than a social issue, designed to fuel division, incite fear, and demonize Muslim communities while concealing the systemic caste-based hierarchies that restrict social mobility and perpetuate inequality. By branding conversion and interfaith marriage as threats, the Hindutva agenda seeks not to protect cultural values but to reinforce a caste-based system that ensures the continued subordination of marginalized communities, ultimately privileging the status quo under the guise of defending Hinduism.

Women from all social locations, irrespective of caste or class and religion, endure oppression and abuse due to the pervasive influence of patriarchy. A woman’s desire to make choices, especially in interfaith marriage, often faces fierce resistance from those who view her autonomy as threatening traditional power structures. In this case, the people’s choice of marriage out of faith was deemed unacceptable by right-wing political forces, highlighting how, for many women, the right to choose a life partner remains conditional on external approval. This serves as a sad reminder of the compounded barriers faced by women at the intersection of caste, gender, and religion, underscoring the urgent need for societal change to end these cycles of violence and discrimination.

Courtesy: Sabrang India

Note: This news is originally published in sabrangindia.in and is used only for non-profit/non-commercial purposes, especially for human rights