The Waqf Board has long been sold as a sacred gig—mosques, graves, and Muslim charity, all wrapped in Sharia’s iron grip. The 1995 Act handed it a holy mission: safeguard the faith’s offerings, settle the squabbles. But it has swelled into a monstrous land hog—9.4 lakh acres—often clashing with the railways and the government for turf.

Arbitrary doesn’t even cover it. The situation in Tamil Nadu is a stark example – the Waqf Board is laying claim to an entire village, including homes, fields, and a Hindu temple standing 1,500 years. Imagine a farmer, his life’s work invested in his land, receiving a notice declaring his ancestral property now belongs to the Waqf – with no recourse to the courts, only a tribunal seemingly predisposed to agree with the Board. Section 40 of the current Waqf Act is the weapon: it allows them to claim any land on a whim, requiring no evidence, just a nod to some old tale.

Here’s the truth: Waqf land isn’t dodging India’s law—it’s just got a VIP ticket to run amok. The Act builds a fortress—disputes skip real courts, land in Waqf Tribunals, stuffed with insiders who nod to the board. Section 6 shuts the door—no appeal, no independent oversight. It’s not above the law; it’s a privileged entity operating within it.

Meanwhile, Hindu temples are tightly controlled—every rupee scrutinised, every trustee held accountable. Waqf, on the other hand, can lay claim to land based on little more than vague historical accounts, with the legal system offering limited recourse.

Is it beyond India’s constitutional framework? Not entirely—the Constitution remains supreme. Article 26 grants religious groups the right to manage their own affairs, yet the Waqf Board has far exceeded these bounds. Entire villages have........

© News18