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Online applications and market-based pricing will revive this revenue stream, potentially generating over ₹12,000 crore annually if utilized properly.
In my years as a citizen I’ve witnessed how vulnerable India’s Waqf properties are to exploitation—encroachments, fraudulent claims, and endless litigation that drain their purpose and potential. The Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2024, feels like a long-overdue shield, one that the government has forged with precision to protect these 8.72 lakh properties spanning 37.39 lakh acres, as documented by the Waqf Assets Management System of India (WAMSI). With 58,890 recorded encroachments and 31,999 pending cases, the current system is a leaky boat sinking under mismanagement. This bill isn’t an intrusion into religious affairs—it’s a robust defense of a charitable legacy meant to serve the poor and pious. As someone who’s argued cases before Waqf Tribunals, I see it as a lifeline for an institution on the brink.The scale of the problem is staggering. Only 1,088 of these 8.72 lakh properties have registered Waqf deeds, and just 9,279 have Ownership Rights Establishing documents. That leaves millions of acres in a legal gray zone, ripe for misuse. Take the WAMSI data: 16,140 litigation cases are encroachment-related, with 3,165 involving Muslim petitioners—proof that this isn’t a communal issue but a governance failure hurting everyone, especially poor Muslims.
In Bhopal, 101 of 125 registered graveyards have vanished, swallowed by private encroachers. In Hyderabad, 75% of Telangana’s Waqf land—worth ₹5 lakh crore—is illegally occupied. These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re symptoms of a system crippled by ambiguity and weak enforcement. The government’s response is a masterstroke of clarity and accountability.One of the bill’s standout reforms is making Waqf deeds mandatory under Section 36 (1A). No more “Waqf by User”—properties claimed as Waqf based on long-term use without documentation. This provision, now proposed for omission, has been a legal nightmare, fueling disputes like the one in Patna’s Govindpur village, where the Bihar Sunni Waqf Board claimed land affecting Hindu households. By requiring a deed and restricting dedication to those practicing Islam for five years who legally own the property, the bill ensures authenticity. Existing registered Waqfs, like mosques and graveyards, are protected unless disputed or proven to be government land. As a lawyer, I can’t overstate how this cuts through the fog of ownership battles that clog our courts.Then there’s the role of the Collector, elevated to verify registration applications and conduct surveys. I’ve seen cases where Waqf Boards overstepped, as in Lucknow, where 78% of claimed land was actually government-owned, per Uttar Pradesh’s findings.
The bill’s provision for a senior officer above the Collector rank to investigate disputed properties is a safeguard against such overreach. Until the report is filed, no property is deemed Waqf— a fair, transparent process that respects due diligence. Add to this the geotagging of properties and their integration with land revenue records, and you have a system where boundaries are no longer guesswork. Encroachers thrive on confusion; this bill starves them of it.The digitized leasing system is another gem. WAMSI data shows leased properties dropped from 3,233 in 2015 to 875 in 2025, with rental income falling from ₹20,078 to zero. That’s not just inefficiency—it’s a betrayal of Waqf’s purpose. Online applications and market-based pricing will revive this revenue stream, potentially generating over ₹12,000 crore annually if utilized properly. Stricter penalties for Mutawallis—up to six months’ imprisonment and fines from ₹20,000 to ₹1 lakh—ensure accountability, while the Limitation Act’s application curbs endless litigation. The omission of Section 40, which allowed Boards to unilaterally declare properties as Waqf, further reins in arbitrary power.
These aren’t punitive measures; they’re protective ones, ensuring Waqf assets serve their intended beneficiaries, not land grabbers. Critics might argue this centralizes control, but I see it as empowerment through structure. The Kerala High Court’s 1993 ruling in Syed Fazal Pookoya Thangal called Waqf Boards statutory, not religious, bodies—a distinction this bill honors. It’s about administration, not faith. I’ve met widows and orphans who rely on Waqf for survival, only to see funds siphoned off by mismanagement. By securing these properties legally and financially, the government is honoring their rights. This isn’t about rewriting Waqf’s soul—it’s about saving its body from collapse.
Writer is a commentator, known for his insightful perspectives on current affairs. He can be reached on lawtahirmajeed@gmail.com
