Waqf Law an Excuse: The Larger Game Behind the Unrest

Part XI: Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025

Table of Contents

Waqf Law an Excuse: Beyond the Amendment

The violence and mass mobilizations following the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025, raise a critical question: was this unrest truly about waqf law reforms, or was the Act merely a convenient trigger for a broader agenda? As the smoke clears from torched vehicles and displaced communities, patterns emerge that echo past incidents—the Delhi Riots of 2020, the Nuh violence in 2023, and the Sandeshkhali tensions in West Bengal. It is no longer enough to analyze these incidents in isolation. Together, they point to a strategic exploitation of communal identity politics, where legislation is weaponized and outrage manufactured. Was Waqf Law an Excuse to meet larger target of demographic changes?

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When the Waqf Law Became an Excuse

To understand the scale and nature of the 2025 unrest, we must look beyond the smoke of recent riots and into the structure of the waqf system itself. Originally codified under the British in the 1913 Mussalman Wakf Validating Act and later institutionalized in the Waqf Act of 1995, India’s waqf boards evolved into powerful, semi-autonomous entities controlling over 8.72 lakh properties. Strikingly, more than 4.02 lakh of these—nearly half—are claimed under the controversial doctrine of ‘waqf by user’, a practice that allowed land to be brought under waqf simply through assertions of long-term religious use, without any formal deed or ownership documentation. This mechanism not only blurred legal boundaries but also created conditions ripe for unchecked encroachment—often overlapping with Hindu temple lands, private holdings, and public property.

The doctrine of waqf by user was formally deleted through the 2013 amendment, which clarified that no property could be classified as waqf solely on the basis of user. However, in practice, the fallout of that abolition remained limited. Properties continued to be claimed and protected under waqf, and litigation dragged on as procedural ambiguity persisted—particularly where ownership was disputed.

When Legal Reform Meets Entrenched Power

The 2025 Amendment did not revisit the doctrine’s core—but it removed a layer of protection from disputed properties, stating that land under legal contention could not be notified or controlled by waqf boards. Additionally, the amendment reaffirmed deed-based registration and reintroduced civil court remedies, curbing the autonomous overreach that waqf boards had long exercised.

These were not ideological moves—they were administrative corrections. Yet the response was disproportionately violent. As highlighted in earlier parts of this series, judicial institutions failed to respond with urgency, and political forces capitalized on the unrest.

Through this series, we have examined the unchecked expansion of waqf control, the erosion of Hindu religious rights, the communal targeting during festival processions, and the judiciary’s selective inertia. This blog now turns to the underlying question: what drove the orchestrated aggression against the majority community? Was it rage against reform—or was the waqf law an excuse to assert street power, rewrite narratives, and challenge the very fabric of equal citizenship?

A Familiar Pattern: Orchestrated Mobilization and Mobilization

Like the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) protests of 2019-20, which were propelled into violence through speeches, misinformation, and an orchestrated victimhood narrative, the Waqf Amendment protests quickly moved from objection to aggression. What began as political and religious opposition evolved into stone-pelting, threats, targeted violence, and in West Bengal, outright displacement of Hindus. In South 24 Parganas’ Bhangar [Times of India (April 13, 2025)] region alone, 16 police personnel were injured, 8 hospitalized, and 18 police vehicles torched (TOI, Apr 13, 2025). The police were even waylaid and prevented from reaching affected localities. This was not peaceful protest—it was a tactical strike aimed at paralyzing state response and showcasing street power.

From Protest to Street Power: A Calculated Escalation

Slogans like “Islam is under attack” and “Waqf is Allah’s trust” transformed the protests from legal resistance into calibrated assertions of religious supremacy. In districts like Murshidabad—where the Muslim population has risen from 56% in 1961 to over 66% by 2011—this was not about opposing reform, but about signaling territorial dominance. Chants like “Nara-e-Tadbeer”, declaring Allah above all, directly undermined the secular character of the Indian Republic. The violence that followed—targeted attacks on Durga Puja mandaps, Ram Navami processions, and mass arson—was not spontaneous. It was strategic.

Children as Shields: Legal Loopholes, Strategic Lawlessness

Police reports revealed that organizations like SDPI not only orchestrated the unrest but intentionally mobilized youth under the age of 18, knowing they would fall outside the full ambit of legal prosecution. This was not just a breach of law—it was a defiant exploitation of it.

In regions like Bhangar and Murshidabad, Hindus were forced to flee their homes amidst threats, vandalism, and state silence. This orchestrated use of minors, weaponized narratives, and demographic assertion all point to a singular truth: was the waqf law an excuse—the real goal was ideological conquest. Was this merely dissent, or was it a quiet, coordinated call for Jehad masked as resistance?

Waqf Law an Excuse, Not the Core

Waqf boards, which have historically operated with minimal scrutiny and maximum land control, were suddenly presented as sacred institutions beyond reform. But the protests revealed a deeper motive: reinforcing religious identity through resistance. In districts like Murshidabad [Displacement of Hindus (Hindustan Times, April 19, 2025)] and Malda, where demographic changes have tilted power equations, violence was used to assert dominance. The slogans, the mobs, and the strategic targeting of Hindus in minority pockets suggest that this was not about defending waqf, but about reminding the nation of who holds sway in certain regions.

The Long Shadow of Festival Attacks and Identity Suppression

As detailed in the blog Attacks on Hindus: A Threat to Identity, a long list of disrupted Hindu festivals and processions tells a consistent story. Ram Navami, Hanuman Jayanti, Holi, and Durga Puja celebrations have been attacked in dozens of locations across India. Whether it is Asansol in 2018, Howrah in 2022, Nuh in 2023, or Delhi’s Jahangirpuri in 2022, the trend remains: Hindu religious assertion is increasingly met with planned aggression. The Waqf Amendment protests were simply another chapter in this saga—an excuse to ignite conflict, seize narrative space, and demoralize the Hindu community.

Historical Parallels: Marichjhapi, Bangladesh, and Sandeshkhali

The strategy is not new. In 1979, the Marichjhapi massacre targeted poor Hindu refugees in West Bengal, justified through environmental pretexts but driven by political calculus. In Bangladesh, post-Hasina 2024, over 2,000 attacks on Hindus erupted within weeks of political instability (India Today, February 13, 2025; Bangladesh Hindu Massacre: Persecution Past and Present Part-IV K ). In Sandeshkhali, allegations of land grabs, sexual violence, and police inaction mirror the current inaction in parts of Bengal after the Waqf riots.

The mechanism is disturbingly familiar: a community is intimidated, its leaders mocked or ignored, and political narratives spun to frame the majority as aggressors. Meanwhile, Hindu populations dwindle from entire districts, echoing the demographic erosion seen in parts of Bangladesh.

Reflection: A Question of Identity and Survival

The deeper fear among Hindus today is not just about physical safety—it is about identity, erasure, and the fading concept of safe zones. From Murshidabad to Nuh, from Trilokpuri to Bhangar, the message is loud: Hindu assertion will be challenged, not just politically but violently. When states hesitate and courts remain silent, the cost is borne by the quiet majority.

This is no longer about one law or one incident. It is about whether India will uphold equal rights for all or allow selective outrage to drown out facts.

A Call to Action

Learning from History

The time has come to recognize the pattern and respond with unity, clarity, and lawful resolve. Marichjhapi taught us that state betrayal can silence thousands. Shaheen Bagh taught us how sustained protests can override reason. The Waqf riots of 2025 serve as a reminder that if broader societal patterns are not recognized, the cultural and historical presence of communities could face gradual erosion.

Let this blog be not just a reflection but a call—to document, resist misinformation, support displaced families, and demand accountability.

Because the real question is: Will we learn from Marichjhapi and Shaheen Bagh, or will we fall again?

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Glossary of Terms

Tripura’s Unakoti District: A district in northeastern India where protests against the Waqf Act reportedly escalated into police clashes in April 2025.

Waqf by User: A legal concept allowing land to be declared as waqf based on long-standing religious use, without formal ownership documents or deed registration. Officially removed in the 2013 amendment, but remained widely misused in practice.

Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025: A legislative reform aimed at improving transparency in waqf property management by removing waqf protection from disputed properties, mandating deed-based registration, and allowing civil court access.

Nara-e-Tadbeer: An Islamic slogan loosely translating to “Plan according to Allah’s will,” often invoked to express supreme religious authority; in this context, used as a challenge to India’s secular constitutional order.

SDPI (Social Democratic Party of India): A political outfit with links to radical Islamist mobilization, reportedly involved in organizing and instigating violent protests during the Waqf Act unrest.

Murshidabad: A district in West Bengal with a significant and growing Muslim majority, noted for incidents of communal violence and demographic shifts cited during the Waqf Act protests.

Marichjhapi Massacre: A 1979 incident in West Bengal where Bengali Hindu refugees were forcibly evicted and many killed by state forces under the pretext of environmental conservation.

Shaheen Bagh Protests: A major sit-in protest in Delhi (2019–2020) against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), widely seen as a symbol of coordinated dissent built around religious identity politics.

Waqf Board: A statutory body that manages Islamic endowments (waqf properties) in India. Known for its administrative autonomy and historically limited transparency or oversight.

Street Power: A term used to describe the use of public demonstrations, blockades, and protest violence to assert political or religious dominance, often beyond constitutional boundaries.

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