Coming soon: A great war over waqf

First, explain ‘waqf’ to me…

In essence, a waqf is a religious donation made by Muslims to the community. These properties cannot be sold or used for any other purpose—since they now belong to God:

Waqf is an Arabic word. It means a full stop in literal sense or a stop to the transfer of ownership of property; a movable or immovable property given out as an endowment in the name of God and this charity is the eternal and final gift which cannot be passed on to others.

Point to note: Waqf donations were made by both Hindu and Muslim rulers—as were routine donations of land to construct temples, gurudwaras etc. 

The origin story: The tradition dates back to the 12th century—when the first sultanates were established in Delhi. But the practice was formalised as law soon after the British Raj took the place of the East India Company in 1857:

[D]isputes around management of some Hindu temples in Tamil Nadu and the appeals thereafter prompted the British to pass laws to administer the management aspects of religious institutions. As part of this effort, the British enacted laws in 1863 to regulate the management of properties belonging to Hindu religious institutions, revising them in 1902. Similar laws were later introduced in the early 20th century to govern the properties of other religious denominations.

As a result, the Waqf Act was passed in 1913—which included the creation of the Waqf board to manage the endowments made by Muslims.

The post-independence era: Waqf properties first came under siege during the early days of Partition—when refugees flooded into Delhi. They accounted for 28.4% of the population by 1951. Hundreds of thousands of Muslims had fled—and many who were left were huddled in refugee camps for fear of violence.  Prime Minister Nehru became the first to greenlight the forcible transfer of waqf properties—to Hindus, Sikhs and the government:

During the early days of Partition, both refugee rehabilitation and the reconstruction of Delhi were prioritised by the Indian government. In the process, many Muslim graves, including those of venerated saints, were forcibly occupied… Some Delhi Waqf Board lands were also occupied by the state on the grounds that they would fall into unsafe hands. The Custodian (of Enemy Property) took over many tomb sites and graveyards and sold them to the Hindu and Sikh refugees at measly prices.

In the 1980s, Delhi Lieutenant Governor Jagmohan continued the practice—seizing waqf properties to construct DDA flats.

Is that illegal? What’s the modern law re waqf? 

These properties today are ruled by the Waqf Act of 1995. It mandates the creation of a Waqf Board in each state—which holds, acquires and transfers ownership of such properties. Members of all union, state and district-level institutions are selected by the government. For example, the state board is headed by a minister and its members are government-appointed legislators and Islamic experts. Key point to note: All must be Muslims.

Open to challenge: Each state government also appoints a survey commissioner to identify waqf properties. These decisions can, however, be challenged before a waqf tribunal—and also in the courts. 

But, but, but: As we noted above, there is a long-standing tradition of governments—colonial or Indian or Middle Eastern—of usurping waqf land—irrespective of the law.

Where we are now: Today, waqf properties are spread across nearly 1 million acres (approximately 1562.5 square miles)—”nearly twice the size of Mauritius”—administered by 32 waqf boards.

Ok, so what’s this latest battle about?

The battle is over a new law proposed by the government. The Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2024, aims to amend the Waqf Act of 1995—and rename it as—wait for it!—the Unified Waqf Management Empowerment Efficiency and Development Act, 1995. We’ll get into the details below—but at the heart of the controversy are three underlying assumptions.

One: Waqf boards control a staggering amount of land:

The government says that the waqf boards are among India’s largest landholders. There are at least 872,351 waqf properties across India, spanning more than 940,000 acres, with an estimated value of 1.2 trillion rupees ($14.22bn; £11.26bn).

This in itself is remarkable—and suggests something is awry. OTOH, others point out temples and religious mutts are not doing too badly either: 

The total area of Hindu religious institutions in Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, and Telangana alone is 47,800 acres, 4,65,000 acres, and 87,235 acres with an additional 7,123 acres with the Tirumala Tirupati Devasthanam—a total of 10,37,358 acres in just three States.

Two: The BJP estimate of waqf holdings is wildly higher than government numbers. More importantly, the party suggests most of the land has been acquired by ‘land jihad’:

In 1954, when the Waqf Act was enacted, the Waqf Board owned just 10,000 acres of land across the country. Today, it is the third-largest landowner in India, after Defence and Railways, controlling 38 lakh acres. Where did all this land come from?

The allegation is that Waqf Boards can arbitrarily claim land as their own. For example, in Karnataka, over 1000 farmers were issued notices for encroaching waqf land. Hence, these boards need to be reined in—and more closely monitored.

Three: Waqf Boards are crippled by extensive corruption—and serve the interests of a small elite. Even Muslim leaders echo this assessment—as did an independent inquiry in 2006: 

A report submitted in 2006 by the Justice Sachar Committee - formed by the earlier Congress party-led government to assess the socioeconomic conditions of Muslims in India - had recommended waqf reform, as it found that the revenues from the boards were low compared to the vast number of properties they managed. The committee estimated that efficient use of the land had the potential to generate an annual revenue of about 120bn rupees (1.4bn; £1.1bn). The current annual revenue, according to some estimates, is around 2bn rupees. 

The most common form of abuse is to lease or sub-contract “crores of rupees of leasable properties to business tycoons for a few thousand or lakhs of rupees.” Some notable (surprising) examples:

For instance, the ITC Windsor Manor in Bengaluru is built on leased waqf property. Likewise, other iconic properties on leased waqf land include the Tollygunge Club and the Royal Calcutta Golf Club in Kolkata, the latter being the oldest golf club in the country. None of these properties pay market rentals. Such lease arrangements across cities have been causing massive revenue losses for Waqf Boards in different States.

But it sounds like waqf is, in fact, a problem… 

Well, it’s complicated—mostly by netagiri and greed:) Take, for example, the fight in  Munambam. The state Waqf Board claims over 404 acres of coastal land in Kerala— inhabited for generations by Christian and Hindu fisherfolk. Is this an example of land jihad?

• This land was given on lease by the Travancore royal family to a Muslim trader back in 1902. 
• In 1948, the trader’s son registered the land in his name—and in 1950, he handed it over as wakf to a Muslim college. 
• All this while, the fishermen continued to live on this land—without legal documents to prove ownership.
• This led to a fierce battle in the 1960s with the college’s management—which finally sold the land to the community—but did not mention it was waqf property.
• The college was found guilty by a later Waqf Board investigation—of approving the sale without permission.
• And in 2019, the board declared the land as waqf property—which the government refused to recognise—and the case is now in the High Court. 

Cue the political drama:

Muslim organisations led by Indian Union Muslim League have assured that they do not want to evict the land’s occupants, and called for an out of court settlement instead. The Kerala government has convened a high level meeting later this month to discuss the matter, while the BJP has seized the issue as an opportunity to further reach out to Kerala Christians. The inhabitants want a quick resolution as without land tax receipts, they cannot mortgage their properties as collateral for acquiring loans.

The ultimate bit of irony: Even as the battle drags on, the disputed land is shrinking due to coastal erosion. The 404 acres of land handed over in 1902 by the royal family is today a mere 225 acres.

And what will this new law do to fix things?

Critics say it guts the independence of the Waqf Boards—and the powers of the national Waqf Council. The government insists it makes them more accountable. Here’s a quick look at the clauses that are raising the most red flags.

Waqf, what Waqf? The proposed name of the law erases the very word: “The Waqf Bill proposes to replace the four-letter word “waqf” in Section 1(1) by the 50 letters ‘Unified Waqf Management, Empowerment, Efficiency and Development’.” But, hey, the acronym is still upbeat: UMEED—as in hope.

The not-so-Muslim waqf board: The government plans to get rid of the central Waqf Council—and ‘diversify’ the membership of the boards:

[T]he requirement that a government official appointed to the positions of survey commissioner, Waqf board, and Waqf tribunal must be a Muslim has been removed. The new Bill also makes it mandatory for non-Muslims to be appointed to the Waqf board. But there is no such condition for Hindu religious or Sikh or Christian institutions.

Point to note: The bill also mandates the inclusion of lower caste Muslims and women—which is greatly welcome—but again raises questions about double standards: 

Moreover, since even all Hindus—defined in Article 25 of the Constitution as Sikhs, Jains, and Buddhists—cannot be members of temple boards, unless the government is willing to admit non-Hindus, Hindu Dalits, and OBCs in temple boards, such a provision for Waqf Boards alone goes against the policy of “one nation, one law”. 

Also this: There will no longer be a waqf survey commissioner or a local Waqf Tribunal. These responsibilities will be performed by local IAS officers—the district magistrate and executive deputy commissioner, respectively. The value of this change lies strictly in the eyes of the beholder—and one’s assessment of IAS officers.

Erasing history: Since waqf properties are so old, they often lack formal documentation. The law has, therefore, recognised ‘waqf by user’—reaffirmed by the Supreme Court in the Babri Masjid case:

[O]ur jurisprudence recognises the principle of waqf by user even absent an express deed of dedication or declaration. Whether or not properties are waqf property by long use is a matter of evidence.

But the proposed law gets rid of this principle—putting at risk the oldest Muslim monuments, including mosques and graveyards. A prospect that feels all too real at a time of mandir-masjid politics. Reminder: Last week, the UP government bulldozed a 185-year mosque claiming it was encroaching on a highway.

The bottomline: The Waqf Bill will be tabled early next year—as part of the budget session of Parliament. It is one of the super-sized political time-bombs that await us in 2025. Also slated for next year: The overdue national census—and what it will mean for South India.  

Reading List

Frontline brings the most in-depth coverage on the new bill’s salient features and on how property rights meet majoritarianism, but is paywalled. For free versions, Al Jazeera and BBC News offer solid overviews on why Muslims are worried about the new bill. The Wire has a useful history lesson as well as an important case study set in Karnataka.