An Emotion Called Devotion

Judges have been expected to rise above each such bias in their professional as well as personal conduct. In our country, it has been observed that considerations of caste, of gender and of familiarity have weighed on judges as they decide. Biases are often grounded in emotion. A more subtle and inwardly oriented emotion is the idea of devotion. In this short essay, I wish to explore the role that devotion plays in our juridical thought. I wish to examine it from two perspectives: What happens when a litigant makes a claim on the basis of devotion? And, what happens when a judge claims to be guided by devotion?

The public acknowledgment by a judge of the intercession of God in judicial decision making makes many of us uncomfortable, as it should. In recent weeks, we have had the opportunity for this to be reaffirmed. Acknowledgment from a judge of devotion towards God guiding his judgments is concerning and raises doubts on the motivations behind his judicial decisions/opinions. Many of us would prefer it if a judge's religious life and legal life were kept far away from one another. Since that is not always true, examining the place of devotion as an emotion in law, what it takes and what it may also give, could help better understand the discomfort and loss of faith that an acknowledgment of faith makes us feel.

If the Right to Worship and the right to profess one's religion is recognized in law, is devotion as a category recognized in law as well? If so, how? If not, why not? Devotion is not an emotion that finds universal resonance. For those of us who experience it, it may seem that a life devoid of it is lacking in some crucial way – that peace, enlightenment, a sense of gratitude or wisdom of a specific and important kind will elude you without it. For those of us who don't, devotion can seem baffling at best and dangerous at worst. It is not an emotion as straightforward as jealousy, attachment, or sudden provocation, which the law recognizes. It is harder to weave devotion into ratios of judgments or in the fabric of laws because balancing it with secular, egalitarian or rational ideals is not always easy. That being said, the law does recognize it as a category. It recognizes the devotee, the object of her devotion and the foundation upon which that relationship rests, which is the feeling of devotion itself. Legal personhood given to Ram Lalla, the alleged Right to Worship in the Babri or Gyanvapi Mosques by Hindus, the denial of entry to menstruating women into the Sabarimala temple, or the denial of entry to certain communities/castes into places of worship is premised on the recognition of devotion as a legitimate category. We create legal rights and categories on the basis of this emotion.

When devotion enters the courtroom, it changes the nature of an argument. Demanding or claiming a legitimate right to worship is not the same as claiming the right to a public square, park, or promenade. It is not just a particular community claiming access to a public space, although that is what it appears to be. Because the claim rests on devotedness, its nature is transformed. While the Right to Worship is not to be equated with devotion, the former cannot be a ground for appeal without the latter.

Devotion is difficult to prove. Unlike many other emotions, its manifestations are not easily seen or pointed out, making it harder to show or discredit its presence. Like other emotions such as love, friendship, empathy, grief, or anger, it can be grasped by the other only when it is manifested either as language or as gesture – both of which need to be comprehensible to the self as also the other. When seeable, observable, verifiable, infallible manifestations are simultaneously necessary and evasive, how does the law believe it when someone says, “I am a devotee”? On what basis do we trust that claim?

There is no basis, as we understand it in law, i.e., a reasoned, rational, or legally backed basis, to either trust or discard it. We either trust the person saying it or we don't. There can be no verifiable proof of devotion other than the person's claim. Much like any other kind of inner voice, there is no way of proving it as no external proof exists. There can be no proof of devotion that is autonomous of that person. The law finds it difficult to recognize devotion for this reason. It is a difficult category to adjudicate. When something cannot be proved, we choose to believe the claim or not to believe the claim. And we must be comfortable with believing or disbelieving it because we simply do. There is no third alternative. This is why the law finds it difficult to deal with devotion, because it is entirely self-referential. If we go looking for proof external to the individual or try to base our belief in their claim on anything other than the simple fact of that claim, that search will lead nowhere.

It can however be argued that the proof of devotion lies in the life lived by that person. That is the context we must examine, and we will be able to decide whether they are devoted or not. If the person is indeed devoted, their choices and actions will reveal so. This is the claim that must be contested – that devotion makes us ethical, righteous, moral, empathetic people who are capable of taking the good of others into consideration. Morality need not have anything to do with devotion or the lack thereof. The two are distinct, which is why an ethical life is no proof of devotion and an unethical one is no proof of godlessness. If the context of the person's life is also insufficient proof, the place of devotion in adjudication rests on precarious ground.

Despite all this, devotion is an emotion and a category in law. In such circumstances, how can law deal with devotion? There seem to be two possible responses. One response can be that the idea of devotion is assumed or implicit when certain claims are brought to court. If a Right to Worship is being claimed, instead of looking for proof that devotion does indeed underlie the claim, it can simply be presumed to exist. Of the many claims that parties are asked to prove, devotion has so far not been one of them.

The second response entails recognizing that while the law recognizes devotion as a category, judgments – whether being pronounced, upheld, or struck down, cannot recognize devotion as a ground. In adjudication, when the premise is reason, rationale, and precedent of law established, it cannot be said that judicial pronouncement is guided by devotion. Even if the argument made rests on the recognition of devotion, once the claim crosses over from bar to bench, devotion has to cease to be the reason to do/not to do something. The law may, but judgment as a process does not recognize the ground of devotion. I may want to worship in X place because my inner voice of devotion tells me to do so, but I cannot, as a judge, let someone worship in X place because I am guided by the divine to make it happen. An argument based on devotion can be made by anyone but a judge – who may recognize it, may entertain it, may even rule in its favour – but only if that ruling is based in sound reason, logic, legal reasoning and precedent. Deciding to uphold, strike down or pronounce a judgment because God told me to do so is reason enough to vitiate it.

Views are personal.