“...The breakdown of constitutional morality is always signalled not by the violation of laws, but by their cynical manipulation to achieve morally indefensible ends.”
—Gautam Bhatia, The Transformative Constitution, 2019
On February 13, 2025, US President Donald Trump announced a sweeping “reciprocal tariff” policy targeting countries like India for their high duties on American goods. The stock markets plunged in response.
In India, the government busied itself with pushing through the controversial Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2025 at this time. Passed in the Lok Sabha (288-232) and the Rajya Sabha (128-95) after midnight debates on April 4, the bill received presidential assent the next day. Critics argue it grants sweeping powers to the state over waqf properties, undermining the rights of the Muslim community. Several petitions have been filed in the Supreme Court, which has stayed parts of the Act and scheduled a hearing for May 5 (now deferred to May 15), after the government—unable to respond to the Court’s pointed questions—sought more time.
Waqf and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)
The institution of waqf—charitable endowments made by Muslims for religious or community welfare purposes—has been under increasing scrutiny from the BJP and affiliated organisations over the past several years. While waqf properties have historically existed as a parallel domain of community-held assets governed by Islamic law and administered by state waqf boards, the BJP has sought to question their legitimacy and management under the guise of transparency, national interest, and “equal treatment” of religious institutions.
This scrutiny intensified alongside the party’s broader ideological effort to portray minority rights and institutions as vestiges of appeasement politics. Waqf properties, which include thousands of mosques, graveyards, dargahs, and commercial assets, have often been targeted in public discourse as symbols of “extra-constitutional privileges” given to Muslims. BJP leaders have alleged large-scale corruption, encroachment, and lack of oversight in the waqf system, despite the fact that it is already governed by a central law—the Waqf Act, 1995—and subjected to state control.
In BJP-ruled states like Madhya Pradesh, there have been legislative moves and public pronouncements aimed at investigating or even dismantling waqf boards, framing them as “parallel governments”. Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh-linked publications and BJP spokespersons have referred to waqf as “Islamic land jihad”, feeding into a larger narrative of demographic anxiety and conspiratorial politics.
The culmination of this sustained campaign came in the form of legislative initiatives such as amendments to the Waqf Act, as well as public interest litigations filed to challenge the constitutional validity of waqf altogether. These efforts mark not just an administrative intervention but an ideological attempt to delegitimise the Muslim community’s autonomy and erase distinct legal-cultural institutions under a broader Hindutva homogenisation agenda.
Thus, the BJP’s sustained focus on waqf is not merely about regulation or reform; it is part of a wider political project that seeks to recast India’s pluralist constitutional order in majoritarian terms. Had it been just a reform, it would have begun with Hindu temple trusts, much richer and far more opaque than the waqf boards. The wealth of Hindu temples in India significantly surpasses that of waqf properties, both in terms of asset value and revenue generation. The total worth of Hindu temple properties is not estimated as the temples are managed by various state governments, but it far exceeds the worth of waqf properties, which encompass religious and charitable endowments in the Muslim community, estimated to cover approximately 9.4 lakh acres across India, with a total estimated value of Rs 1.2 lakh crore.
The Formal Process
The BJP suffered a setback in the 2024 general elections. Against its boastful slogan of “400 paar” (beyond 400 seats), the party managed only 240—falling 32 short of the majority mark. In the face of a fragmented opposition, it bought support from two parties, Nitish Kumar’s Janata Dal (United) [JDU] that won 12 seats and the Telugu Desam Party (TDP), which won 16 seats. On the strength of 293 of the NDA, Narendra Modi began his third term with the renewed zeal to consolidate his base of bhakts with his anti-Muslim rhetoric. Though his seat share drastically declined, his own popularity, proxied by the BJP’s vote share at 36.56 per cent had not been significantly less than 37.46 per cent in the previous election. In terms of the ratio of seat share to vote share, it had certainly fallen drastically from 1.66 in 2014 to 1.48 in 2019 and further to 1.21 in 2024. It was imperative for the party that hardly knew anything beyond communal manipulation to do more of what it has been doing—harass Muslims to please Hindus.
It planned an attack on the Waqf Board, which has been one of the markers of the Muslim presence in India and the much-hated legacy of the Delhi Sultanat. On August 8, 2024, two bills: the Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2024, and the Mussalman Wakf (Repeal) Bill, 2024, were introduced in the Lok Sabha with the aim of streamlining the Waqf Board’s work and ensuring the efficient management of waqf properties. In contrast to its usual practice of rushing legislation through Parliament with minimal debate, the government this time seemed to follow a more measured and procedural route in amending the waqf law. The bill was referred to a Joint Parliamentary Committee (JPC), which reviewed it in detail and recommended certain modifications, which were supposedly accepted. The revised bill was subsequently introduced and passed in both Houses. This unusual adherence to parliamentary process appears to be a strategic move, likely aimed at demonstrating to both domestic critics and international observers that due legislative norms were followed—especially given the sensitive nature of the legislation concerning minority rights and religious endowments.
Majoritarian Hubris
In bulldozing the bill through the legislature, unmindful of opposition critique and dissenting voices, the BJP revealed not merely its political arrogance but also its contempt for the foundational ethic of Indian constitutionalism—an ethic rooted in deliberation, inclusiveness, and the moral restraint of majorities.
This brazen proceduralism, where rules are followed in form but violated in spirit, is what Dr. B.R. Ambedkar warned against in his final speech to the Constituent Assembly on November 25, 1949. He laid down a moral compass, a standard of conduct he called constitutional morality—a concept that he borrowed from the British historian George Grote, but infused with uniquely Indian urgency. For Dr. Ambedkar, constitutional morality was not just about the text of the Constitution, but about the spirit with which it must be upheld: respect for the rule of law, for the rights of individuals and minorities, for due process, for debate, for dissent, and for restraint. “Constitutional morality,” he warned, “is not a natural sentiment. It has to be cultivated.” His fear was prescient. The BJP has quietly replaced it with what might be called a “mud-wrestler’s morality”—a politics of brute force, rhetorical contempt, and majoritarian self-righteousness, where parliamentary procedure is weaponised not for democratic dialogue but for domination.
The waqf institutions, however imperfect, represent centuries-old forms of community self-governance and religious endowment within Indian Islam.
The waqf institutions, however imperfect, represent centuries-old forms of community self-governance and religious endowment within Indian Islam. Their sudden legislative dismantling, without adequate consultation with stakeholders or public debate, is not a neutral administrative act. It is a calculated political move to delegitimise Muslim institutional life, couched in the language of reform and rationalisation. It follows a clear pattern: from the criminalisation of Tablighi Jamaat members during COVID-19, to bulldozer demolitions of Muslim homes, and the targeting of Muslim personal laws—this government has made no secret of its willingness to weaponise the state against an already marginalised minority.
The hasty passage of the Waqf (Amendment) Bill thus must be read not in isolation but as part of the BJP’s larger ideological project—to hollow out the secular foundations of the republic and recast it as a Hindu majoritarian state. This is legislative majoritarianism masquerading as reform. It is the antithesis of what Dr. Ambedkar envisioned when he stated that the test of a democracy is not the power of the majority to rule, but its ability to respect the rights of the minority.
Dangerous Tirade
The recent spate of attacks by BJP leaders on the Supreme Court in response to its interim stay on parts of the Waqf Act signals a deepening constitutional crisis. BJP MPs and rabble-rousers like Nishikant Dubey and Dinesh Sharma have issued statements that go beyond criticism and verge on outright contempt—challenging the legitimacy of the judiciary, and particularly targeting the Chief Justice of India. What is telling, and politically significant, is that the BJP as a party has merely distanced itself from these remarks without taking any action or restraining them. This selective disassociation is neither innocent nor accidental—it communicates tacit approval while preserving plausible deniability. Legally, such conduct borders on contempt of court under Article 129 and Article 215 of the Constitution, which empower the Supreme Court and the High Courts, respectively, to punish for their own contempt. But more dangerously, politically, it marks an escalation of the ruling party’s ongoing project to subordinate or delegitimise independent institutions.
This is not an isolated case. Just days ago, the Supreme Court had pulled up Tamil Nadu Governor R.N. Ravi for stonewalling legislation duly passed by the elected assembly—calling it a “mockery of the Constitution”. The Governor’s obstructionist behaviour, which included holding back as many as 21 bills, was rightly denounced by the Court as unconstitutional. But the Centre remained silent, despite the Governor being its nominee. These episodes together reflect a deliberate pattern: the executive’s increasing willingness to test constitutional limits and its disregard for institutional checks. What we are witnessing is not merely friction between organs of the state, but a sustained erosion of constitutional morality—something Dr. Ambedkar identified as indispensable for the survival of parliamentary democracy. Without mutual respect among institutions and a shared commitment to constitutional norms, the architecture of democracy may remain intact on paper, but it will be hollowed out in practice.
(Views expressed are personal)
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Anand Teltumbde is an Indian scholar, writer and human rights activist
This article is part of 해외카지노’s May 22, 2025 issue, ‘Is This War?’, covering the tense four-day standoff that brought India and Pakistan to the brink of war. It appeared in print as 'No Neutral Move'
