Parliament’s decision wasn’t merely a vote—it was a pledge to preserve a legacy that has sustained millions. The once-fragile system now stands as a reinforced structure, poised to fulfill its founding purpose.
On April 4, 2025, the Waqf (Amendment) Bill, 2025, became law, passing both houses of Parliament with a Rajya Sabha vote of 128 to 95. This marks a defining moment for the 8.72 lakh Waqf properties spanning 37.39 lakh acres—a charitable legacy long plagued by mismanagement and exploitation. The Waqf Assets Management System of India (WAMSI) exposes the depth of the crisis: 58,890 encroachments, 31,999 pending cases, and only 1,088 properties backed by registered Waqf deeds. Far from an intrusion, this legislation stands as a carefully crafted shield to protect a system intended to uplift the poor and pious from further collapse.
The numbers paint a troubling picture. WAMSI data highlights 16,140 litigation cases linked to encroachment, including 3,165 filed by Muslim petitioners—evidence that this transcends communal lines and points to a governance breakdown harming its core beneficiaries. In Bhopal, 101 of 125 registered graveyards have vanished into private hands. In Hyderabad, 75% of Telangana’s Waqf land—valued at ₹5 lakh crore—remains illegally occupied. These losses reflect a broader pattern of a system hobbled by vague rules and lax enforcement. The new law tackles this with precision and accountability.
Section 36 (1A) now requires Waqf deeds, eliminating the ambiguous “Waqf by User” practice that allowed claims based on undocumented long-term use. The dispute in Patna’s Govindpur village—where the Bihar Sunni Waqf Board’s claim unsettled Hindu households—illustrates the turmoil this loophole unleashed. By mandating a deed and restricting dedication to those practicing Islam for five years who legally own the property, the law ensures legitimacy. Existing Waqfs, such as mosques and graveyards, remain safeguarded unless contested or proven to be government land. This clarity slices through the legal fog that has bogged down courts for years.
The legislation strengthens the Collector’s role, assigning a senior officer above that rank to verify registrations and investigate disputes. Uttar Pradesh’s revelation in Lucknow—that 78% of claimed Waqf land belonged to the government—underscores the need for such checks. Until the officer’s report is submitted, no property is classified as Waqf, ensuring a transparent process. Geotagging and linkage with land revenue records further solidify boundaries, leaving no space for guesswork. Encroachers exploit confusion; this law dismantles it.
The digitized leasing system emerges as a standout reform. WAMSI data reveals a steep decline in leased properties—from 3,233 in 2015 to 875 in 2025—with rental income dropping from ₹20,078 to zero, a failure that undermines Waqf’s mission. Online applications and market-based pricing could generate over ₹12,000 crore annually, directing resources to those in need. Harsher penalties for Mutawallis—six months’ imprisonment, fines up to ₹1 lakh—and the Limitation Act’s enforcement curb mismanagement and prolonged lawsuits. The removal of Section 40, which permitted Boards to unilaterally designate properties as Waqf, curbs unchecked authority.
Some may label this centralization, but it’s better seen as empowerment through order. The Kerala High Court’s 1993 ruling in Syed Fazal Pookoya Thangal defined Waqf Boards as statutory, not religious, bodies—a principle this law upholds. It focuses on administration, not faith. Widows and orphans dependent on Waqf have long suffered as its potential was drained by inefficiency. This legislation locks in their rights, both legally and financially. Parliament’s decision wasn’t merely a vote—it was a pledge to preserve a legacy that has sustained millions. The once-fragile system now stands as a reinforced structure, poised to fulfill its founding purpose.
Adv. Tahir Majeed is a commentator recognized for incisive perspectives on current affairs.Contact:lawtahirmajeed@gmail.com.