From the Editor-in-Chief
Violating the silent covenant between the institution and the millions who gave it their hard-earned money is not just corruption but a desecration of what the temple represents
There is a particular kind of betrayal that cuts deeper than ordinary corruption. One that violates faith itself. The news of donation money being siphoned off at Ayodhya has shocked the nation. India is not short of holy places, including some as old as our civilisation. But the Ram temple in Ayodhya is different. It was born of a movement that defined contemporary India, propelling the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) from the margins of the political landscape to its commanding heights today. There’s another distinguishing feature: it was not built out of a royal endowment or institutional patronage. The Rs 2,000 crore spent on constructing the grand, 70-acre temple complex came entirely from devotee donations. The currency that converted a political-cultural project into manifest reality was faith. Each brick, each architectural motif bears its imprint. An urban makeover accompanied it, turning a modest temple town of medieval vintage into a modern city and prime real estate. But it’s the temple that turns it into a pilgrim magnet, the much-feted Hindu version of “Mecca and the Vatican”.
That ambition started bearing fruit soon after Prime Minister Narendra Modi led the pran pratishtha on January 22, 2024. Average daily footfalls range between 100,000 and 150,000, on par with, or exceeding, Tirupati, the Golden Temple and most global pilgrimage sites. In 2024, Ayodhya recorded 164 million arrivals, nearly doubling that to 300 million in 2025 thanks to a spillover from the Mahakumbh at Prayagraj. Direct donations to the temple hundis reached Rs 153 crore in FY25. India’s demographic dividend, concentrated into devotion, flowing into a single place of worship is truly unparalleled. Then, the all-too-familiar Indian habit asserted itself, as it often does at places of worship. There are those who come to pray, and those who come to prey.
The first whispers were internal. Members of a closed circle were displaying sudden markers of prosperity. Plush apartments, upscale real estate deals, expensive cars, premium phones that modest salaries couldn’t explain. In an air murky with groupism and mistrust, internal whistleblowers hit a wall of silence. Eventually the matter reached the Samajwadi Party, and Akhilesh Yadav went public with allegations of large-scale swindling. As it became a full-blown scandal, estimates of its scale ranged wildly, from Rs 7.5 crore to Rs 200 crore. Finally, acting on a letter from a local BJP leader, the Prime Minister’s Office demanded a detailed report. An SIT constituted by the Yogi Adityanath government went to work, and the picture that emerged is sordid in its detail and damning in its implications. Subordinates engaged to count the cash donations were pilfering wads at will, via various sleights of hand. The entire operation was compromised. The keys to the hundis were in unauthorised hands. The CCTVs had blind spots and were programmed to auto-delete feeds after 45 days. Even bank employees deputed to machine-count and transfer the cash were complicit. Eight arrests followed.
But the arrest of a few hirelings is not a solution. It can only be the beginning of an accountability process that must go much further than it has. The real issue is with the governing structure at the Shri Ram Janmabhoomi Teerth Kshetra Trust that was formed in 2020 to administer the temple and allowed such laxity. On paper, its 15 members make for a balanced representation. In practice, it was a fiefdom run by a potentate-like figure: 80-year-old general secretary Champat Rai of the Vishva Hindu Parishad, a fixture at Ayodhya since the ’90s. Also in focus are trustee Anil Mishra and invited member Gopal Rao, both from the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. Most other trustees are disengaged from day-to-day administration, especially aged alumni from the heyday of the Ayodhya agitation or the sundry pontiffs busy with their own institutions across India. The accused are all said to be close to one or the other of the power trio. Even if the chain of culpability does not travel upward, it speaks of a highly personalised operation with plenty of discretionary space and apparently minimum oversight.
India has temples that handle operations of comparable or greater scale with exemplary rigour. Tirupati sets the benchmark with a fully sanitised SOP for donations. Shirdi and Siddhivinayak demonstrate operational discipline at scale. Puri’s Jagannath temple swears by asset transparency: even a politically contentious inventorisation of its Ratna Bhandar found everything intact. The Somnath protocol entails daily reporting to trustees, and next-morning bank deposits. The common thread is an assembly of authorities keeping vigil at every stage, to eliminate individual fallibility—institutional design rather than individual virtue. Ayodhya deserves at a minimum what these institutions have built. As Nripendra Misra, ex officio member of the Trust, says, “We need a total revamp, including a full-time CEO to handle daily operations.”
The Ram temple was built on an extraordinary mobilisation of public faith, creating a silent covenant between the institution and the millions who gave it their hard-earned money. Violating it is not just corruption but a desecration of what the temple represents. The other collateral damage is to the reputation of the Sangh Parivar, which prides itself on integrity and public service.
Our ground report from Ayodhya this week shines a light on the murky goings-on, examines what went wrong, how it was allowed to go wrong and what reform is required. The institution itself needs to be rebuilt on foundations worthy of what was entrusted to it.
There is a particular kind of betrayal that cuts deeper than ordinary corruption. One that violates faith itself. The news of donation money being siphoned off at Ayodhya has shocked the nation. India is not short of holy places, including some as old as our civilisation. But the Ram temple in Ayodhya is different. It was born of a movement that defined contemporary India, propelling the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) from the margins of the political landscape to its commanding heights today. There’s another distinguishing feature: it was not built out of a royal endowment or institutional patronage. The Rs 2,000 crore spent on constructing the grand, 70-acre temple complex came entirely from devotee donations. The currency that converted a political-cultural project into manifest reality was faith. Each brick, each architectural motif bears its imprint. An urban makeover accompanied it, turning a modest temple town of medieval vintage into a modern city and prime real estate. But it’s the temple that turns it into a pilgrim magnet, the much-feted Hindu version of “Mecca and the Vatican”.
That ambition started bearing fruit soon after Prime Minister Narendra Modi led the pran pratishtha on January 22, 2024. Average daily footfalls range between 100,000 and 150,000, on par with, or exceeding, Tirupati, the Golden Temple and most global pilgrimage sites. In 2024, Ayodhya recorded 164 million arrivals, nearly doubling that to 300 million in 2025 thanks to a spillover from the Mahakumbh at Prayagraj. Direct donations to the temple hundis reached Rs 153 crore in FY25. India’s demographic dividend, concentrated into devotion, flowing into a single place of worship is truly unparalleled. Then, the all-too-familiar Indian habit asserted itself, as it often does at places of worship. There are those who come to pray, and those who come to prey.
The first whispers were internal. Members of a closed circle were displaying sudden markers of prosperity. Plush apartments, upscale real estate deals, expensive cars, premium phones that modest salaries couldn’t explain. In an air murky with groupism and mistrust, internal whistleblowers hit a wall of silence. Eventually the matter reached the Samajwadi Party, and Akhilesh Yadav went public with allegations of large-scale swindling. As it became a full-blown scandal, estimates of its scale ranged wildly, from Rs 7.5 crore to Rs 200 crore. Finally, acting on a letter from a local BJP leader, the Prime Minister’s Office demanded a detailed report. An SIT constituted by the Yogi Adityanath government went to work, and the picture that emerged is sordid in its detail and damning in its implications. Subordinates engaged to count the cash donations were pilfering wads at will, via various sleights of hand. The entire operation was compromised. The keys to the hundis were in unauthorised hands. The CCTVs had blind spots and were programmed to auto-delete feeds after 45 days. Even bank employees deputed to machine-count and transfer the cash were complicit. Eight arrests followed.
But the arrest of a few hirelings is not a solution. It can only be the beginning of an accountability process that must go much further than it has. The real issue is with the governing structure at the Shri Ram Janmabhoomi Teerth Kshetra Trust that was formed in 2020 to administer the temple and allowed such laxity. On paper, its 15 members make for a balanced representation. In practice, it was a fiefdom run by a potentate-like figure: 80-year-old general secretary Champat Rai of the Vishva Hindu Parishad, a fixture at Ayodhya since the ’90s. Also in focus are trustee Anil Mishra and invited member Gopal Rao, both from the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. Most other trustees are disengaged from day-to-day administration, especially aged alumni from the heyday of the Ayodhya agitation or the sundry pontiffs busy with their own institutions across India. The accused are all said to be close to one or the other of the power trio. Even if the chain of culpability does not travel upward, it speaks of a highly personalised operation with plenty of discretionary space and apparently minimum oversight.
India has temples that handle operations of comparable or greater scale with exemplary rigour. Tirupati sets the benchmark with a fully sanitised SOP for donations. Shirdi and Siddhivinayak demonstrate operational discipline at scale. Puri’s Jagannath temple swears by asset transparency: even a politically contentious inventorisation of its Ratna Bhandar found everything intact. The Somnath protocol entails daily reporting to trustees, and next-morning bank deposits. The common thread is an assembly of authorities keeping vigil at every stage, to eliminate individual fallibility—institutional design rather than individual virtue. Ayodhya deserves at a minimum what these institutions have built. As Nripendra Misra, ex officio member of the Trust, says, “We need a total revamp, including a full-time CEO to handle daily operations.”
The Ram temple was built on an extraordinary mobilisation of public faith, creating a silent covenant between the institution and the millions who gave it their hard-earned money. Violating it is not just corruption but a desecration of what the temple represents. The other collateral damage is to the reputation of the Sangh Parivar, which prides itself on integrity and public service.
Our ground report from Ayodhya this week shines a light on the murky goings-on, examines what went wrong, how it was allowed to go wrong and what reform is required. The institution itself needs to be rebuilt on foundations worthy of what was entrusted to it.
