Chhattisgarh's New Anti-Conversion Law Out-Hardlines BJP Standards
Chhattisgarh has barely stopped short of Madhya Pradesh's promised death penalty for conversion, writes John Dayal.
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Last year on International Women's Day, Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Mohan Yadav promised he would introduce the death penalty for any man who seduced the state’s Hindu women, married them, and forced them to convert to another religion. Everyone knew which men he was referring to, and there was applause from his audience.
If passed, that will be the gold standard for the 12 Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)-ruled states to amend their anti-conversion laws, some of which were passed in more benign times, and till very recently, had not seen anyone being punished.
But, for the moment, the record has been set by neighbouring Chhattisgarh, which, on 19 March, passed its Freedom of Religion Bill, 2026 to replace the 1968 law from when the state was part of Madhya Pradesh.
Chhattisgarh Gets Strictest Anti-Conversion Law in India
The Bill, which awaits the Governor’s assent, makes it illegal to convert anyone by force, fraud, allurement, undue influence, misrepresentation, or marriage. Conversions to Hinduism will be totally legal.
For the first time, this Bill covers conversions done online. A 60-day notice to the district authorities is required, giving them, the woman’s relatives, and neighbours sufficient time to investigate, and if possible, prevent the marriage. If the man persists, the police can arrest him straight away, and the case will go to a special court.
The Chhattisgarh punishments are toughest in the land. Ordinary cases invite seven to 10 years in prison plus at least a Rs 5 lakh fine. If the person converted is a minor, a woman, someone with mental illness, or from a Scheduled Caste, Scheduled Tribe or other backward class, the sentence rises to 10 to 20 years plus a Rs 10 lakh fine. For “mass conversion”—even just two people at the same time—the term is 10 years to life, with a Rs 25 lakh fine. Repeat offenders face life in prison.
Just days earlier, Maharashtra had passed its own Freedom of Religion Bill, 2026. The penalties there are a little lighter—up to seven years and a Rs 5 lakh fine for normal cases, 10 years for repeats—but the rules on notice and what counts as wrong conversion are similar. Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis insisted it was not aimed at any one community. Opposition parties still worried it could create fear around interfaith marriages and minority work.
These Bills have been legislated even as the Supreme Court is looking at challenges from 12 states. Petitions argue that the laws break Article 25 of the Constitution, which guarantees the right to profess, practise and spread religion. Earlier rulings said the state can stop force or fraud, but not genuine choice. Reversed burden of proof in some states may also clash with fair-trial rights. International groups have recorded falling religious freedom scores.
Seeds of Contention Date Back Decades
The seeds were sown in 1956 when the Congress government of Madhya Pradesh, led by Pandit Ravi Shankar Shukla, set up the Justice Niyogi Commission to investigate and suggest ways to check the activities of Christian missionaries working among the Dalit and tribal people of the state.
In 1967, neighbouring Odisha passed independent India’s first Freedom of Religion Act, an ironic name for an anti-conversion law that toyed with the Constitution’s guarantees to citizens to profess, practice, and propagate the faith of their choice. The Odisha law, later struck down by the High Court but upheld by the Supreme Court, banned conversion by force, fraud or inducement and set light punishments—up to two years in jail. The definitions for “force” and “fraud” were vague then, and have since been expanded to cover even free education or medical relief.
For many years, the rules were hardly used. After the BJP came to power nationally in 2014, things changed. States ruled by the BJP began to bring in or tighten similar laws. Today about 13 states have them, nearly all run by the BJP. The early laws were mild. Newer ones add marriage as a possible crime, digital activity, and much longer prison terms.
The rise in strictness is clear. Early laws gave one or two years in jail. After 2017, the punishments grew as the BJP focused sharply on Muslims, specially young men of education who were coming into the news for marriages to film actresses, others in colleges, and then in small towns. The law, meant to tame Christians into submission, was tweaked to get the Muslims into the net. Merely adding the words “luring into marriage” was sufficient to get the entire “Abrahamic religious” community into the ambit of this law.
Ironically, support for the BJP had indirectly come from an unexpected quarter when the Christian religious leadership in Kerala helped coin the word “love jihad” to raise their issue of Catholic girls marrying Muslim men in the state.
What Motivates the Race for Stricter Laws?
The race to sharpen this law has continued unabated, particularly after Narendra Modi’s second term in office. Uttar Pradesh brought in 10-year terms in 2020. Madhya Pradesh followed in 2021. Uttarakhand and Rajasthan later allowed up to 20 years or life for mass cases.
In March 2025, Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Mohan Yadav said he wanted the death penalty for forced conversions, comparing them to the rape of a minor. That idea was not turned into law, but it showed how the debate was becoming extreme. Chhattisgarh’s 2026 Bill now stands as one of the strictest, with life sentences built in from the start.
The BJP, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), and the Akhil Bharatiya Vanvasi Kalyan Ashram—the Sangh offshoot working among the tribals of a broad swathe from Gujarat to the West Bengal border with Jharkhand—say these laws protect weak and poor people from being tricked with money, jobs, schools or medical help.
They point to foreign funding of some Christian groups and say “love jihad” cases—where marriage is used to change faith—are real. The laws, they argue, keep India’s Hindu culture safe and stop social tension.
The rules are written so loosely that almost any kindness—a free clinic, a scholarship, even a friendly prayer meeting—can be called “allurement”. Hindu nationalist groups such as the Bajrang Dal and Vishwa Hindu Parishad often file complaints. Police act quickly, even when proof is weak. Actual convictions stay low, but the fear, arrests, court cases, and violence do the damage. The laws become a tool not just to stop conversion but to frighten minorities and push them back.
It can be taken to ridiculous limits. In July 2025, two Catholic nuns from Kerala, Sister Preeti Mary and Sister Vandana Francis, were arrested in Chhattisgarh. They were travelling with tribal girls to help them find work in a convent. A Bajrang Dal worker complained that this was trafficking and forced conversion. The nuns spent time in jail, faced physical abuse, and the case drags on without an end in sight.
The system works because the burden of proof often shifts onto the accused. Special courts move fast. Vigilante groups know that even a false complaint can ruin lives through months in jail, lost jobs, and social shame. Interfaith couples face extra trouble—Christian and Muslim young men marrying a Hindu woman can be accused of being tricked. Digital sermons on YouTube or WhatsApp now count as possible crimes.
By spreading from state to state, the laws create a national pattern. Success in one BJP-ruled place encourages the next. Chhattisgarh and Maharashtra acted almost together in March 2026. The rules work alongside other steps: tighter controls on foreign money to charities, cow-protection violence, and calls for a uniform civil code. Together they shrink the space where minorities can live.
Reducing the One Arm Distance
Ironically, the Congress and other parties which have had opportunity to come to power in these states have not tried to revoke the laws.
India is not alone. It can be compared to at least 12 mainly Islamic nations—Saudi Arabia, Iran, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and others—where leaving Islam (apostasy) can bring the death penalty.
The words in the Bills are open to wide reading. Is a free school an allurement? Is love in marriage undue influence? Is a YouTube video being watched in another state a crime?
Missionary hospitals and schools have helped millions in remote areas. Overuse of the rules could close those services and hurt the very people they claim to protect.
(John Dayal is a writer and activist. He is a former President of the 102-year-old All India Catholic Union. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)