Faith, Fury, and the Gavel: The Shoe That Rocked Bharat’s Supreme Court

Paromita Das

New Delhi, 8th October: The stillness of Bharat’s highest courtroom was ruptured by a flying symbol — a shoe, not a weapon. On October 6, 2025, as Chief Justice B. R. Gavai presided over proceedings in Court No. 1, a veteran lawyer attempted to hurl his footwear toward the bench. His cry — “Sanatan ka apmaan nahi sahenge” — reverberated more loudly than the act itself: a protest not just against a comment but what many perceived as the casual belittlement of faith. The Chief Justice, unflinching, merely said, “These things do not affect me,” before asking the court to proceed. Yet outside that courtroom, the shockwaves of that moment continue to shake Bharat’s legal and cultural conscience.

The Spark: A Words-to-Faith Dispute

The incident’s roots trace back to a few weeks earlier, when CJI Gavai remarked during a hearing about a damaged deity in Khajuraho, “Go and ask the deity himself to do something now.” For the judiciary, that may have sounded like a rhetorical device highlighting the legal impossibility of divine restoration. For believers, it struck a deeply discordant note — a suggestion, intentionally or not, that mocked divine agency.

In a nation where religion and reverence often intersect with public life, the remark ignited a storm. Critics accused the Chief Justice of insensitivity toward Hindu sentiment and demanded an apology. Gavai clarified that his words were wrongly portrayed and reiterated his respect for all faiths. However, perception had already taken root, and perception — not intention — is often what drives public emotion.

Between Candor and Contempt: The Judicial Dilemma

Judges are humanity’s interpreters of law, bound not only by reason but also by restraint. Their words carry weight beyond rulings; they shape public faith in the fairness of justice itself. While judicial candor is essential, the challenge lies in knowing where frankness ends and perceived disrespect begins.

In Gavai’s case, a literal reading portrayed arrogance; a figurative one suggested realism. Yet in a society steeped in devotion, irony can sound like atheism, and legal humor can sound like arrogance. The result is a palpable unease — a reminder that the judiciary’s image is not immune to the cultural context it operates within.

The episode shows that judges today must navigate more than the courtroom. They face the digital court of public opinion, where remarks are clipped, shared, and magnified, often divorced from their original sense. In that hypercharged space, intent matters less than resonance — and resonance is volatile.

The Act of Dissent or the Decline of Decorum?

The shoe-throwing in the Supreme Court was not just an outburst; it was an act of defiance against the symbolic sanctity of a constitutional institution. Whether seen as misguided anger or emotional protest, it starkly highlighted two conflicting currents — the right to dissent and the duty to maintain decorum.

While outrage at perceived religious insult is understandable, a courtroom is not the stage for it. Lawyers and litigants are expected to uphold the dignity of the institution that protects their rights. Throwing a shoe — however symbolic — corrodes that very foundation.

Yet, the act also underscores how thin the line has grown between protest and sacrilege, between voicing grievance and disrupting order. The Supreme Court stands as the temple of justice; any breach within its walls reflects deeper public disquiet outside them.

The Real Risk: Erosion of Trust

Bharat’s judiciary derives its moral power not from armed enforcement but from trust. When people start viewing judges as partial or disrespectful to faith, that trust falters. A single remark — or its interpretation — can therefore ripple through the collective psyche, questioning the judiciary’s spiritual neutrality.

The incident has thus reignited a conversation about how courts can balance secular governance with cultural empathy. Judges may insist that law and religion must remain distinct, but their expression — however inadvertent — cannot afford to be indifferent to sentiment. Faith is delicate currency; mishandling it can change the perception of justice itself.

A Lesson in Symbology

While the reaction was misplaced, the emotion behind it reveals something crucial: Bharat’s religious sensitivities are not mere zeal but reflections of identity. The judiciary’s independence is sacrosanct, yet it must coexist with a society that interprets words through inherited belief. The Chief Justice’s remark may not have been an insult in essence, but it became one in effect because faith seldom speaks the language of rational nuance.

Conversely, the protester’s action, though emotionally charged, cannot be justified in a temple of law. Resistance, if unrestrained, risks chaos; dissent, if violent or disrespectful, becomes profanity against democracy itself. Freedom of expression must always uphold responsibility — particularly when directed at the judiciary, the ultimate guardian of that very freedom.

The Broader Message: Rethinking Judicial Speech

In the years ahead, every judicial comment will likely be examined through a political and religious lens. That reality demands new norms — discretion, humility, and sociocultural awareness in judicial speech. Public trust rests not merely on judgments delivered but also on the temperament with which authority is exercised.

The shoe-throwing incident, shocking as it was, might ultimately serve a constructive purpose: compelling both citizens and judges to reacknowledge boundaries. Faith deserves respect, and so does the judiciary. Both lose meaning when one is weaponized against the other.

A Symbol, Not a Scandal

October 6 will not be remembered as the day someone tried to assault the Chief Justice, but as the day symbolism disrupted serenity. The shoe never struck its target, but its message did — that even metaphors from the bench can pierce collective sentiment.

Yet Bharat’s constitutional spirit is resilient. Chief Justice Gavai’s calm response — his refusal to let indignation rule the day — reflected the dignity of the institution he leads. The real takeaway from this episode is not outrage but introspection. In a nation where faith and freedom coexist uneasily, perhaps both the judiciary and the citizen must learn that reverence and restraint are not opposites — they are the twin pillars that keep democracy steady.