So it was the year 2020. My right-wing friend asked me, “Do you know what Waqf is?” I said, “No, I’ve never even heard of it.” He looked at me and said, “Then let me explain.” And now, four years later, having gone through the records, cases, laws, and logic, I’m writing this article to explain it to you.
Introduction to Waqf
I started by learning that Waqf (also spelt wakf) is an Islamic endowment of property for charitable or religious purposes. In fact, the institution of waqf dates back to the Prophet Muhammad’s time. One of the very first waqf acts was by a Companion, Abu Talha: he and his wife endowed the usufruct of their 600‑palm date grove so that its proceeds could feed Medina’s poor. Over time, charitable endowments grew into a formal institution in Muslim societies. In India, the tradition of Waqf began with the medieval Sultanates. As per the sources, the concept of waqf in India dates back to the Delhi Sultanate, and cites an early example of Sultan Muizuddin (Muhammad Ghori) dedicating villages to the Jama Masjid at Multan. Even in later centuries, Hindu and Muslim rulers cooperated: notably, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj is recorded to have gifted 654 acres of land to a Muslim Sufi saint, Yakub Babar, for a dargah (tomb). This example of Shivaji’s donation is often cited to show historical communal harmony.
Waqf under the Law
Legally, a waqf is property that an individual (the waqif) dedicates permanently to God for a religious or charitable use under Islamic law. Once designated as waqf, ownership is transferred from the person making the waqf (waqif) to Allah, making it irrevocable. This means the property is inalienable: it can never be sold, willed, or taken back by heirs. This is why a saying emerged: “Once a waqf, always a waqf.” The waqif usually appoints a custodian (mutawalli) to manage the property. Historically and today, state Waqf Boards (set up under Indian law) supervise the administration of waqf lands. The current legal framework is the Waqf Act of 1995 (and its amendments). Under Indian law, a declared waqf is placed in trust, often run by a mutawalli appointed by the founder or the Board. Because of the irrevocable nature, waqf properties remain dedicated to their intended use “for the benefit of human beings” in perpetuity. This legal setup means, in principle, the assets should serve public welfare (schools, mosques, relief, etc).
Famous Waqf Claims
In recent years, a string of absurd claims have surfaced, misusing the idea of “once a waqf, always a waqf.” Suddenly, everything from religious festivals to heritage monuments was being claimed as waqf property. For instance, a cleric claimed that the land hosting the Maha Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj was waqf, but the UP Sunni Waqf Board dismissed it as baseless. Courts were similarly puzzled by claims on two islands in Bet Dwarka (Gujarat), and even Kolkata’s Eden Gardens and Fort William were bizarrely declared waqf by a politician—drawing ridicule.
In Uttar Pradesh, a man tried to get the Taj Mahal declared a waqf in 1998. The Supreme Court intervened in 2018, demanding evidence and asking, “Who in India will accept that the Taj Mahal belongs to the Waqf Board?”—before striking down the claim. Other strange assertions included rumors about the Kashi Vishwanath temple land and even the new Parliament building. In another case, a mosque built on leased government land in Allahabad was evicted by court order, with judges questioning whether leased land could ever become waqf. In Tamil Nadu, the Waqf Board once claimed an entire village—Thiruchendurai, including a centuries-old temple—as waqf property.
None of these claims held up in court. But they created confusion and fear, showing a growing trend of waqf laws being stretched to claim large or public lands under the “forever” rule.
The Waqf (Amendment) Bill 2025
To address these issues, the government passed significant reforms in 2025. Now, only practising Muslims can create a waqf, and old informal ways like “waqf by use” have been removed. Women in the family can’t be left out of property rights anymore. Government land that was wrongly claimed as waqf will now go back to the government, and only local officers, not Waqf Boards, can decide what is truly waqf land. All waqf properties will be properly surveyed, recorded, and put online. (For example, Section 40 of the old Act – which had let boards declare any property as waqf, is removed.) Waqf Boards must now include non-Muslims and women, and their accounts will be checked regularly to stop misuse. People can also go to the High Court if they feel something is unfair.
The Welfare Paradox
Even though Muslims in India collectively own a large number of waqf properties, the community still struggles socio-economically. The Sachar Committee showed that Muslims are underrepresented in government jobs and civil services in almost every state. Poverty levels are also high—about 31% of Muslims were below the poverty line, and many lived without access to schools or medical care, especially in Muslim-majority villages. In Uttar Pradesh, which has the most waqf land in the country, Muslim literacy and income levels are still very low. This shows that just owning land hasn’t helped the community much—many waqf properties have either been poorly managed or taken over illegally.
Now, you might be thinking—aren’t the recent amendments a step in the right direction? After all, they aim to stop land misuse, ensure proper registration, increase transparency, and give more inclusive representation. But here’s the other side of the coin. Many in the Muslim community feel that these reforms could reduce their autonomy over religious endowments. Some fear that shifting powers from Waqf Boards to government officials may lead to more state interference and even open the door to political misuse. Protests have emerged in several states, where people claim the law could be used to take away genuine waqf lands under the guise of “re-survey.” So while the amendment has its advantages, it also raises real concerns that need careful attention
Conclusion
Now, let me tell you what I really think about all this. On the surface, the Waqf (Amendment) Act 2025 appears to be a much-needed step in the right direction. It aims to fix glaring loopholes, increase transparency, and clamp down on unchecked land grabs. With provisions like CAG audits and better accountability, I do welcome these reforms — they were long overdue.
But let’s not overlook the other side. While the Act introduces structure, it also raises serious concerns. Section 8 still states that the government must bear the cost of Waqf surveys, which directly violates Article 27 of the Indian Constitution. (Article 27 prohibits the state from compelling any person to pay taxes for promoting or maintaining any particular religion or religious denomination.) This alone should raise eyebrows.
And then there’s Section 54 of the new amendment — it allows the Waqf Board to label anyone an encroacher, which can be dangerously vague and prone to misuse. This kind of unchecked authority, without sufficient legal safeguards, can potentially lead to unjust outcomes. So yes, I’m cautiously optimistic. If implemented responsibly, these reforms could genuinely help channel Waqf funds toward education, healthcare, and real community upliftment. But the real test lies ahead: Will we actually see more schools, better access to healthcare, and fewer families living in poverty?
That’s my take. Now it’s your turn — weigh both sides, look at the facts, and ask yourself: is this truly fair and just for everyone?