Religion Shapes Policy
In India, where policy meets faith, biostimulants are pulled up over religious sensitivities, writes Gajanan Khergamker
Policy is known to dance to the tunes of tradition and faith and, in furtherance, the Union Agriculture Ministry's notification of September 30, 2025, withdrawing approval for eleven animal protein-based biostimulants emerges as a poignant exemplar. This move, ostensibly rooted in "religious and dietary sensitivities," strikes at formulations derived from bovine hide, chicken feathers, pig tissue, cod scales, and sardines - substances now deemed incompatible with the sensibilities of Hindu and Jain communities.
Beneath this veneer of ethical guardianship lies a complex legal conundrum: Does the State's intervention uphold the nation's cultural ethos, or does it teeter perilously on the edge of constitutional overreach, potentially infringing upon secular principles and economic freedoms?
At its core, the decision amends the Fertiliser (Inorganic, Organic or Mixed) (Control) Order, 1985 (FCO), by omitting these biostimulants from Schedule VI, which catalogues approved substances for agricultural use. The FCO, enacted under the Essential Commodities Act, 1955, empowers the Central Government to regulate fertilisers and biostimulants to ensure quality, efficacy, and safety. This authority is broad, allowing for amendments via notifications, as seen in the recent culling of the biostimulant market from a chaotic 30,000 unverified products to a streamlined 650.
Legally, the withdrawal is procedurally sound, invoking Section 3 of the Essential Commodities Act, which permits controls in the public interest. However, the invocation of "religious sensitivities" as a rationale introduces a subjective layer, transforming an administrative act into one laden with moral imperatives. Critically, this raises questions under Article 14 of the Constitution, which mandates equality before the law and prohibits arbitrary discrimination.
By singling out animal-derived proteins while permitting plant-based alternatives, the policy could be seen as favouring the dietary prohibitions of specific religious groups — Hindus and Jains, for whom non-vegetarian sources evoke notions of impurity and ahimsa (non-violence). This mirrors the government's parallel stance on restricting dairy imports from the US, where cattle fed non-vegetarian diets are deemed unacceptable.
In a secular republic, as enshrined in the Preamble and upheld in S.R. Bommai v. Union of India (1994), the State must remain neutral towards religions. Prioritising one community's sensitivities over others, say, those of Muslim or Christian farmers who might not share such aversions, risks creating a hierarchy of faiths, potentially violating Article 14 of the Indian Constitution. If challenged, courts might scrutinise whether the classification is rational and bears a nexus to the objective of agricultural purity, or if it veils a majoritarian bias.
Furthermore, the policy intersects with Article 19(1)(g), guaranteeing the right to practice any profession, occupation, trade, or business. Agronomists and manufacturers of these biostimulants, which enhance soil health and crop yields through protein hydrolysates, argue that the ban stifles innovation in a sector grappling with climate challenges and food security.
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On the international front, the decision flirts with trade law pitfalls. India's commitments under the World Trade Organization (WTO) Agreement on Agriculture and the Sanitary and Phytosanitary Measures (SPS) Agreement demand that restrictions be based on scientific principles, not cultural whims. The US dairy curb, for instance, has already drawn scrutiny for non-tariff barriers.
If exporters of animal-based biostimulants challenge this at the WTO, India might defend it under Article XX(a) of GATT (public morals exception), but proving necessity, amid alternatives like synthetic or plant-derived options, could prove arduous. Domestically, the policy aligns with the National Food Security Act, 2013, which emphasises sustainable agriculture, but it overlooks the Economic Survey's calls for tech-driven farming to combat yield stagnation.
The recent ban on US-origin cow milk and dairy products, justified on grounds that American cattle are fed non-vegetarian diets, presents an interesting juncture in India’s trade and diplomatic calculus. Viewed through a realpolitik lens, one could argue that India is effectively “paying Trump in his own coin,” responding to previous US trade and agricultural pressures with a measure of reciprocity. Yet, the legality of such a measure is constrained by India’s commitments under the WTO and other international trade obligations.
Legally, India possesses discretion to invoke public health, consumer protection, or religious/ethical grounds under domestic law to regulate imports. The Food Safety and Standards Authority of India (FSSAI) and Agriculture Ministry rules provide a legitimate administrative pathway to enforce such bans, provided they are transparently reasoned, proportionate, and non-discriminatory. Structuring the ban around feed practices, a factual and verifiable parameter, offers India a defensible legal posture should the measure be challenged in trade forums or domestic courts.
Would the judiciary intervene? Unlikely, at least in substantive policy terms. Indian courts, especially the Supreme Court, have historically exercised caution in matters of foreign trade and diplomatic negotiation, preferring to uphold the dignity of the separation of powers. The courts may insist that procedural propriety and reasoned administrative record-keeping are respected, but they are unlikely to overturn the government’s policy absent evidence of arbitrariness, mala fide intent, or violation of domestic statutory law.
India has navigated a delicate balancing act: asserting sovereign regulatory authority, subtly signalling its stance to the US, and remaining anchored in the rule of law. The judiciary’s probable posture reinforces this equilibrium, maintaining constitutional propriety while allowing the executive latitude in international economic and ethical affairs.
Elaborating beyond the legal scaffold, this withdrawal encapsulates a broader philosophical tussle: the harmonisation of science with sentiment, as the article aptly posits. In a nation where vegetarianism transcends diet to embody a civilisational ethic, rooted in texts like the Manusmriti and Jain tenets of non-harm, the State's role as a custodian of cultural purity is laudable. It extends ahimsa from personal piety to public policy, ensuring that the soil nurturing India's staples remains untainted by what many perceive as moral pollutants. This continuity with historical precedents, such as colonial-era cow protection laws evolving into modern statutes, reaffirms India's sovereignty over its food systems, resisting globalisation's homogenising forces.
This ethical recalibration, however, is not without its shadows. By privileging faith over empiricism, the government risks regressing into a theocratic silo, alienating scientific communities and marginal farmers dependent on cost-effective inputs. In regions like Punjab or Tamil Nadu, where paddy and vegetable cultivation thrives, the ban could inflate costs, exacerbating agrarian distress amid rising fertiliser prices.
Moreover, it perpetuates a binary of 'pure' versus 'impure,' potentially deepening communal divides in a plural society. Policymakers must ponder: If ethical coherence is the goal, why stop at biostimulants? Should genetically modified crops, often laced with animal genes in labs, face similar scrutiny? Or pesticides derived from non-vegetarian sources?
The Centre's move, while a bold assertion of cultural responsibility, demands vigilant judicial oversight to prevent it from morphing into legal adventurism. As India navigates its tryst with modernity, policies must weave tradition with progress, lest the moral compass derail the constitutional train.
This is not merely about fertilisers; it is about defining the soul of a sovereign nation - one where the ethics of the land must indeed align with the ethics of its people, but without trampling the rights of the few in service to the many.
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