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Tag: Waqf Act

  • Nishikant Dubey vs Supreme Court: A Storm Brewing in Politics

    Nishikant Dubey vs Supreme Court: A Storm Brewing in Politics

    you’re at a bustling chai stall in Delhi, overhearing a heated debate about politics. One uncle is waving his newspaper, shouting about how politicians are crossing lines, while another sips his chai, muttering about the judiciary’s role. This is the vibe in India right now, thanks to BJP MP Nishikant Dubey’s explosive comments against the Supreme Court and Chief Justice of India (CJI) Sanjiv Khanna. It’s like a masala movie plot—full of drama, accusations, and a clash of powers. So, what’s the deal? Let’s break it down in a way that feels like we’re chatting over some cutting chai.

    The Spark: Dubey’s Controversial Remarks

    Nishikant Dubey, a four-time MP from Godda, Jharkhand, isn’t new to stirring the pot. Known for his fiery speeches, he’s often the BJP’s go-to guy for taking on opponents. But this time, he aimed higher—straight at the Supreme Court. On April 19, 2025, Dubey accused the apex court of “inciting religious wars” and blamed CJI Sanjiv Khanna for “all civil wars in the country.” Ouch! He didn’t stop there. He suggested that if the Supreme Court is going to make laws, Parliament should just shut down. Imagine saying that about the country’s highest court—it’s like telling your boss they’re doing your job wrong, in front of everyone.

    These remarks came after the Supreme Court raised questions about the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025, and set timelines for the President and Governors to clear bills, like in the Tamil Nadu Governor case. Dubey felt the court was overstepping its role, acting like a “super Parliament.” His words weren’t just a critique; they were a full-on attack, sparking a political firestorm.

    The Supreme Court’s Response: Calm but Firm

    The Supreme Court didn’t take the bait for a public spat, but it didn’t stay silent either. On April 21, 2025, Justice B.R. Gavai, during a hearing, acknowledged the criticism, saying the court is often accused of “encroaching” on Parliament’s turf. No drama, just facts. The court also addressed a petitioner seeking contempt action against Dubey, clarifying that they don’t need permission to file such a plea but must get the Attorney General’s sanction. This measured response shows the judiciary’s restraint, even when under fire.

    Advocate Anas Tanwir, representing petitioners in the Waqf case, wrote to the Attorney General, calling Dubey’s remarks “grossly scandalous” and harmful to the court’s dignity. The court’s focus remained on the law, not the noise, which is classic Supreme Court style—stay above the fray, let the process handle it.

    The Political Fallout: BJP’s Tightrope Walk

    Here’s where it gets spicy. The BJP, Dubey’s party, quickly distanced itself from his remarks. BJP president J.P. Nadda took to X, saying the party “completely rejects” Dubey’s statements and that they were his “personal opinions.” Smart move, but is it enough? Other BJP leaders, like Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sarma, tried to shift the narrative, pointing out Congress’s past criticisms of the judiciary. But the Opposition wasn’t having it. Congress leaders like Digvijaya Singh demanded Dubey’s suspension, calling his remarks a “defamation” of the court.

    Interestingly, not everyone in the BJP camp disagreed with Dubey. West Bengal MLA Agnimitra Paul backed him, questioning why the CJI should challenge the President’s authority. Talk about mixed signals! This shows the delicate balance the BJP is trying to strike—supporting its outspoken MP while avoiding a full-blown clash with the judiciary.

    The Waqf Act Connection: Why It Matters

    At the heart of this storm is the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025. The Act aims to reform how Waqf properties (land or assets dedicated for Muslim religious or charitable purposes) are managed. Critics, including former Chief Election Commissioner S.Y. Quraishi, called it a “sinister plan” to seize Muslim lands. Dubey, in response, didn’t just defend the Act—he attacked Quraishi, labeling him a “Muslim commissioner” instead of an election commissioner. Yikes, that’s personal.

    The Supreme Court’s scrutiny of the Act, particularly provisions like the “Waqf by user” clause, irked Dubey. He argued the court demands evidence for temple land disputes but not for Waqf properties, accusing it of bias. This communal angle has only fueled the controversy, with protests in places like Murshidabad, West Bengal, adding to the tension.

    Why This Clash Matters: Judiciary vs Legislature

    This isn’t just about Dubey’s loud mouth or the Waqf Act. It’s a bigger question: where’s the line between the judiciary and the legislature? The Supreme Court interprets laws and ensures they align with the Constitution, but some, like Dubey and Vice President Jagdeep Dhankhar, argue it’s acting like a lawmaker. Dhankhar called the court a “super Parliament,” echoing Dubey’s sentiments.

    On the flip side, the judiciary’s role is to check and balance the other arms of government. When it set timelines for bill approvals or flagged Waqf Act issues, it was doing its job—protecting constitutional values. But Dubey’s outburst highlights a growing frustration among some politicians who feel the court is meddling too much. It’s like a family feud where everyone thinks they’re right.

    The Public’s Take: A Divided House

    Scroll through X, and you’ll see the divide. Some users hail Dubey as a “fearless” voice calling out judicial overreach. Others slam him as a “troll MP” disrespecting the Constitution. It’s like a Twitter war with no end. The public’s reaction mirrors the larger debate: should politicians challenge the judiciary so openly, or does it weaken our democratic institutions?

    My Take: A Dangerous Precedent?

    Here’s my two cents: Dubey’s remarks cross a line. Critiquing the judiciary is fine—debate keeps democracy alive. But accusing the CJI of starting “civil wars” or throwing communal slurs at critics like Quraishi? That’s not critique; it’s reckless. It risks eroding trust in institutions that hold India together. The BJP’s quick disavowal shows they know this, but their silence on Dubey’s Quraishi comments raises questions about their sincerity.

    The Supreme Court, by staying calm, has shown why it’s the grown-up in the room. But this clash is a wake-up call. We need clearer boundaries between the judiciary, legislature, and executive, or these storms will keep brewing. As citizens, we should demand respectful dialogue, not headline-grabbing rants.

    If you found this blog interesting, you might enjoy this one too: Waqf Act Controversy: What’s Happening in Murshidabad?

  • What’s Going On Between the Supreme Court and the Waqf Act?

    What’s Going On Between the Supreme Court and the Waqf Act?

    Waqf Board

    If you’ve been catching bits of news lately or just overheard people chatting near a pan shop, chances are you’ve heard folks talking about this new Waqf Amendment Act of 2025. It’s not some random law—this one’s got communities across the country worried, debating, and honestly, pretty fired up.

    Now, I’m not a legal expert or anything, but growing up in a city like Kanpur, I’ve seen how Waqf lands are part of everyday life. That old mosque near the market, the graveyard we pass on the way to school, even the madarsa with the dusty courtyard—these aren’t just buildings. They’re part of people’s lives. So when Parliament passed a new law in April changing how these properties are managed, it shook things up.

    The Supreme Court stepped in and held back-to-back hearings on April 16 and 17. And suddenly, this whole thing feels much bigger than just rules and amendments.

    So, Why Did the Supreme Court Step In?

    Well, the new Waqf Act brought some bold changes. It says that even non-Muslims can now be part of the Waqf Boards. Also, the old “Waqf by user” idea—where a place is treated as Waqf just because it’s been used that way for decades—is now out. On top of that, District Collectors have been given the power to decide disputes about whether a piece of land is Waqf or not.

    If it sounds technical, trust me, the real impact is much deeper. We’re talking about over 8.7 lakh Waqf properties, together worth more than ₹1.2 lakh crore. That’s not small change. The Act sparked protests, trending hashtags like #RejectWaqfBill, and over 100 people went straight to the Supreme Court asking for help. Big names like Asaduddin Owaisi and Mohammad Jawed called it unfair to the Muslim community, while the government insists it’s all about stopping corruption and mismanagement.

    So, the Supreme Court—led by Chief Justice Sanjiv Khanna—stepped in like a neutral umpire in a very heated match.

    What Actually Happened in the Hearings?

    The Court didn’t cancel the Act, at least not yet. But they did look at it closely and asked some very pointed questions.

    Here’s what went down:

    • The judges considered freezing a few parts of the Act for now, like the bit about non-Muslims joining the Waqf Boards. But the government said, “Wait, let’s talk it through first.” So, the Court gave them a week to reply. Petitioners get five days after that to respond.
    • The next hearing is scheduled for May 5, and till then, the government has promised not to take any bold steps—like changing the Waqf Board structure or shifting property rights.
    • The Chief Justice also expressed concern about the violence that broke out in places like Murshidabad. He called it “disturbing,” and told everyone to calm down while the Court works through things.

    So for now, it’s like pressing the pause button. Not stop, just wait and watch.

    The Big Questions Nobody’s Ignoring Anymore

    Let me break down the main questions the judges asked—not in legal terms, but like we’re talking over an evening walk:

    1. What Happens to Old Waqf Places Without Documents?

    There are places—like small mosques in old parts of town—that have been Waqf for ages. But they don’t have paperwork. Back in the 1700s or 1800s, who even had sale deeds? The Court asked, “If we remove the ‘Waqf by user’ idea, will these places suddenly stop being Waqf?” That could mean a lot of community spaces might lose their status overnight.

    2. Non-Muslims on Waqf Boards – Fair or Not?

    The Court also raised eyebrows at the idea of non-Muslims being added to Waqf Boards. The Chief Justice asked a simple but sharp question—would anyone be okay with Muslims being added to boards managing Hindu temples? That hit a nerve. In many places, that idea alone could cause unrest. The government said non-Muslims would handle admin roles only, not religious matters—but the judges weren’t totally convinced.

    3. Can District Collectors Be Trusted Here?

    The Act says that District Collectors will decide if a land is Waqf or not. But the judges wondered—what if the Collector is under pressure from the government? What if there’s bias? Once a Collector gives a verdict, the land stops being Waqf. Is that fair? Can people even challenge it in court? All these questions came up.

    4. What About Ancient Waqfs Without Deeds?

    Again, the Court circled back to the paperwork issue. Many old dargahs and mosques were built long before British laws came in. There was no official deed system. The judges asked—are we now saying those places don’t count just because they don’t have a file with a stamp?

    5. And the Violence?

    Lastly, the Court didn’t stay quiet about the protests turning violent. In Murshidabad, things got out of hand. The Chief Justice firmly said such violence is unacceptable, especially while the matter is being heard. Everyone needs to cool down.

    Why All This Matters

    This isn’t just courtroom drama. It affects real people. I remember playing cricket outside a mosque near my school—today, that mosque could be at risk of losing its Waqf status because of paperwork. These places aren’t just walls and domes. They carry memories, traditions, and trust.

    The Court’s questions show they’re trying to balance both sides. They’re asking—are we being fair to the past, while also making rules for the future?

    My Take on It

    Personally, I think it’s a good thing that the Supreme Court stepped in. In places like Kanpur, I’ve seen Waqf properties slowly get taken over by shops or builders. Some rules need fixing, sure. Transparency is important. But we can’t just brush off centuries of history.

    Maybe the answer lies somewhere in between. Keep the positive steps, like better records and maybe even allowing women to join boards. But don’t scrap traditions that held things together for years. Also, if we say one religious body must include outsiders, then every religious trust should follow the same rule. No picking and choosing.

    Let’s see what happens on May 5. But at least now, the matter is being questioned—and that’s always better than silent acceptance.

    Releated to this articale:
    Enjoyed this read? Continue the journey with: Waqf Bill 2025: What’s Really Going On? Why So Much Noise?
    If this resonated with you, here’s something similar you might like: Disturbed With Violence During Protests Against Waqf Amendment Act : Supreme Court

  • Waqf Act Controversy: What’s Happening in Murshidabad?

    Waqf Act Controversy: What’s Happening in Murshidabad?

    A tense street scene in Murshidabad, West Bengal, with a crowd of protesters holding banners against the Waqf Act, police in riot gear, and a smoky backdrop of burning vehicles, capturing the unrest’s intensity on April 12, 2025.

    Something’s been brewing quietly in Bengal for some time, and now it’s all out in the open. Last week, small towns like Dhuliyan, Samserganj, and Suti in Murshidabad saw their streets erupt in violence. And the reason? A new law the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025. It was meant to fix how Waqf properties are handled land and assets that are supposed to serve Muslim charitable needs. But instead of bringing clarity, it stirred up confusion, anger, and full-blown chaos.

    Now people are asking the obvious: how did a law meant for reform turn into such a mess? Why Bengal? And what does it reveal about the deep cracks political and communal running through the state?

    When a Reform Becomes a Spark

    The Waqf (Amendment) Act officially came into effect on April 8, 2025. According to the Centre, its goal was clear—more transparency, digitized records, fewer irregularities, and stronger state boards to manage Waqf properties. But in reality, things didn’t go as smoothly, especially in regions where a large number of people depend on these properties for livelihood or religious purposes.

    Take Murshidabad, for instance—over 66% of the population here is Muslim. So when the amendments were announced, people didn’t just see a law—they saw a potential threat. Rumours spread like wildfire—some claimed the government would take over mosque land, others said entire livelihoods were at stake. And with social media acting like petrol on fire, fear turned into fury. By April 4, small protests began after Friday prayers. Within a few days, those protests grew, fueled by hashtags like #RejectWaqfBill and amplified by local leaders and influencers.

    Was the government unprepared for such a backlash? Possibly. But given the political climate, especially in a state run by Mamata Banerjee who’s known to lock horns with the Centre, it’s surprising they didn’t anticipate this kind of eruption.

    Murshidabad Boils Over

    If you’ve ever walked through the tight lanes of Dhuliyan, you’d remember the lively sounds of local markets. But from April 8 to 12, all that was replaced by violence and destruction. Protesters didn’t just take to the streets—they blocked highways, squatted on railway tracks, and clashed with the police. Petrol bombs were hurled. Vehicles were set on fire. Even a police station in Suti was attacked.

    And then came the human cost. On April 12, in Jafrabad, two men—Haragobindo Das and his son Chandan—were brutally killed by an angry mob. In Suti, a teenager, 17-year-old Ezaz Ahmed Sheikh, was caught in the crossfire and shot dead. Till now, it’s unclear who fired the bullet—police or paramilitary. But that hardly matters to his grieving family. Over 150 people have been arrested so far, and raids are still going on in districts like Malda and Hooghly. Among the injured are at least 18 police officers.

    It’s heartbreaking to imagine what families like Ezaz’s are going through. A young boy, possibly out protesting for what he believed in, is now gone. And the larger question remains—how did a legal amendment meant for better governance turn into a blood-stained battle?

    Mamata’s Balancing Act

    In moments like this, political leadership is tested. And Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee didn’t waste any time making her stand clear. On April 12, she declared, “The Waqf Act will not be implemented in Bengal.” That one line set off a storm.

    To her supporters, she stood up for the people, especially minorities. To her critics, she was playing vote-bank politics with elections around the corner. BJP leaders slammed her—Suvendu Adhikari went as far as calling West Bengal “West Bangladesh,” while others demanded President’s Rule.

    But here’s the irony. The Act wasn’t hers to begin with—it came from the Centre. Yet, she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If she enforced the law, she’d alienate large sections of the Muslim community. If she resisted, she’d be blamed for letting law and order fall apart.

    As things worsened, the Calcutta High Court had to step in on April 12. It ordered deployment of paramilitary forces—about 300 BSF troops and additional companies—to bring things under control. The internet was suspended in Jangipur, but online tensions continued. As of April 13, things had calmed somewhat, with police saying they’d restored order. Still, prohibitory orders remain in place and public trust has taken a big hit.

    Could Mamata have acted earlier to prevent all this? Maybe. But hindsight is always clearer than foresight.

    Layers Beneath the Surface

    To truly understand what’s happening, we need to look deeper. West Bengal isn’t new to communal tension. Murshidabad, with its rich Muslim heritage, is also a district struggling with poverty and underdevelopment. Land disputes here are sensitive, especially involving religious institutions. So any sudden change in the status quo—like the 2025 Waqf amendments—naturally feels like an attack on identity.

    And let’s not forget what else is brewing in Bengal. The massive education scam, where nearly 25,000 school jobs were scrapped by a Supreme Court ruling, has already left the youth frustrated and unemployed. That kind of anger needs only a small trigger to boil over.

    The national debate on Waqf isn’t new either. Back in 2006, the Sachar Committee had already pointed out major irregularities. But meaningful reforms were always delayed. The 2025 Act finally tried to fix that, backed by 211 MPs. But with 148 MPs opposing it, including voices from Bengal’s religious circles, it’s clear not everyone is convinced.

    Online, the battle is just as sharp. While some praise Mamata for protecting minority rights, others have been quick to throw around terms like “gazwa-e-hind,” which only deepen divides. The Supreme Court is set to hear the matter on April 16, and that decision might decide where this story heads next.

    What Lies Ahead for Bengal?

    Right now, Murshidabad is quiet but broken. Police and paramilitary forces are everywhere. Families are mourning their loved ones—Haragobindo, Chandan, and young Ezaz. Legal proceedings have begun for those arrested, but justice will take time. More importantly, healing will take even longer.

    I keep thinking about the youth involved in all this. What pushed them? Was it fear, disillusionment, or blind rage? Maybe all three. And as for Mamata Banerjee, she’s got a tightrope to walk—defending her people without fuelling more fires. She’s shaped Bengal for a decade, but this might be one of her biggest challenges yet.

    At the end of the day, this is not just a Bengal issue. It’s a reflection of how reforms are introduced in our country. Governance isn’t just about rules—it’s about empathy and timing. When laws are passed without listening to ground realities, we risk more such tragedies.

    We can’t afford another Ezaz. We can’t let more homes burn. If there’s a lesson here, it’s that we need to ask the right questions—start with the “why,” not just “who.”