Manufactured Outrage

I have seen many political storms in my time, but few have been as revealing as the one surrounding the Waqf (Amendment) Bill. As the nation watches, this bill is poised to be passed soon after Ramadan, likely in the final week of the ongoing Parliament session. I cannot help but see it as a defining moment in our political landscape—one that exposes the shifting power dynamics, the erosion of old narratives, and the desperation of those clinging to outdated tactics.

Jagdambika Pal, chairperson of the Joint Parliamentary Committee (JPC), took an unprecedented approach, travelling across 15 states, engaging with stakeholders, and incorporating 14 carefully considered amendments. The process was rigorous, transparent, and far more inclusive than any previous changes to the Waqf Act. And yet, opposition voices cry foul, claiming they were sidelined. But were they truly unheard, or is it simply that their grip over Waqf properties is slipping?

Yesterday, the nation stood witness to the protest staged by the All India Muslim Personal Law Board (AIMPLB) at Jantar Mantar. The rhetoric was fiery, but the ground reality? Tepid. This was no Shaheen Bagh. Despite grand proclamations that Muslims would take to the streets en masse, the turnout was underwhelming. The absence of heavyweights—Mamata Banerjee, Arvind Kejriwal, Rahul Gandhi, and other supposed champions of minority rights—spoke volumes. Even the Chief Ministers of Karnataka, Telangana, and Himachal Pradesh—Siddaramaiah, Revanth Reddy, and Sukhvinder Singh Sukhu—were conspicuously missing. Instead, they sent little-known faces, a feeble attempt at token representation. The message was clear: the opposition knew this was not a battle worth fighting.

I couldn’t help but draw parallels to the protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA). I recall the orchestrated hysteria, the false claims that Muslims would lose their citizenship, be herded into detention camps, and deported en masse. And yet, here we are in 2025, with not a single Muslim citizen affected by the Act. The fearmongering was just that—fearmongering. Today, the same playbook is being dusted off, with allegations that Waqf properties, mosques, and shrines will be “usurped.” The difference this time? The audience isn’t buying it.

One crucial factor is that the financial backing for such protests has dried up. Restrictions imposed by former U.S. President Donald Trump on dubious foreign funding streams have significantly cut off external influence. In previous protests, well-oiled ecosystems thrived on these funds, sustaining a manufactured outrage. Without that backing, the opposition’s claims are crumbling faster than they can rebuild them.

What truly frustrates me is the hypocrisy of the Waqf Board’s defenders. If they were genuinely committed to community welfare, they would proudly showcase the schools they have built, the hospitals they have established, and the scholarships they have provided. Instead, the board has become a citadel for land mafias, serving the interests of a select few while neglecting the very people it claims to protect.

The opposition, too, senses the futility of resisting this bill. I saw it in AIMIM chief Asaduddin Owaisi’s veiled threats to leaders like Nitish Kumar and Chandrababu Naidu, warning them not to support the amendment. But bluster cannot mask reality. The bill will pass because the numbers in Parliament are against them. The opposition, despite securing a significant number of seats in the 2024 elections, appears politically paralysed, afraid to alienate the 80% Hindu majority by openly opposing the bill.

And so, here we are, at the cusp of a long-overdue reckoning. The days of unchecked Waqf control, of political parties exploiting minority fears for electoral gains, are ending. The passage of this bill is not just a legislative move—it is a shift in power, a signal that the old games no longer work. The opposition may cry foul, but deep down, they know the truth.

The Waqf Board, in its current form, is living on borrowed time. And as history has shown us, when the tide turns, no amount of noise can stop it. The bill will pass—whether in this session or the next. And with it, an era of unchecked impunity will come to an end.

A famous couplet comes to mind: 

"Jhooth bola hai to qayam bhi raho us par 'Zafar'  

Aadmi ko sahab-e-kirdar hona chahiye." 

(If one chooses to lie, they should at least have the strength to stick to their falsehood rather than wavering. A person should possess firm character—whether in truth or deception.)

But the opposition lacks even the strength to stand by its own falsehoods. When their lies are exposed, they neither feel ashamed nor apologise. All the noise we hear now is merely empty rhetoric.