Papers Please: The Heart of the Waqf Verdict

 

The Supreme Court yesterday delivered its verdict on the Waqf Act.

A perfectly sober, legalistic order — the kind that should have been discussed in calm seminars by constitutional lawyers. But in our republic, nothing remains sober for long. By the time the ink dried, every party had turned the ruling into a street parade of victory.

The Court’s message was plain: the Waqf Act stays. No grand striking down, no headline about the end of mosques or dargahs. But a few stitches were added: state Waqf boards may include up to three non-Muslims, the Central board up to four. And the great free-for-all called “Waqf by user” is over; if you claim a property is Waqf, bring papers, not just loud lungs.

That is common sense. If a piece of land is indeed meant for charity or worship, surely its custodians can produce a title deed. But common sense is poison to the Indian political palate. What we relish instead is myth, grievance and applause.

So, out came the dramatis personae. Congress lawyers — who had argued the case as if the Holy Grail were at stake — emerged from court flashing smiles that could shame toothpaste models. Mamata Banerjee’s brigade tweeted garlands before reading the fine print. Tejashwi Yadav promised to carry the “good news” to Bihar’s Muslims. Samajwadi and RJD leaders congratulated one another as if they’d won the Ranji Trophy.

Even the petitioners could not resist theatrics. Some hailed a “partial success” while pledging to “fight on”. Others, like Owaisi, thundered that justice was denied. In truth, nobody had either won or lost. The Court had merely trimmed a shaggy law, clipped a few claws, and demanded order.

Meanwhile, the BJP — which loves to pretend it doesn’t care about minority votes — enjoyed a quiet chuckle. It had the best of both worlds: the statute survives, so no accusation of vendetta; but the gravy train of undocumented land grabs has been told to park at the station. And there’s a token place for non-Muslims on Waqf boards — a spoonful of pluralism to sweeten the pill.

The heart of the ruling lies in registration. For decades, people declared a field, pond, or orchard to be Waqf merely because someone once prayed there. Records? Titles? That was for fools. Now the Court has said: if it’s sacred property, prove you own it or at least that you have the right to gift it. Otherwise, stop waving the green flag over every patch of earth.

That, naturally, pinches. Paperwork is dull; shouting is fun. So leaders are already peddling the idea that the verdict is a people’s victory against a wicked government, or, depending on which rally you attend, an insult to faith. Expect sermons in Bihar, Assam and Bengal about how “our struggle saved your mosques”. Nobody will mention that the real task is digging out old sale deeds and paying stamp duty.

I once said (and I repeat) that Indians like their politics like they like their cinema: plenty of melodrama, a smattering of song, and preferably no homework. The Waqf story fits perfectly. It is easier to sell lollipops than to explain why the Court wants a clean ledger of community assets.

Let us be clear. The verdict does not diminish Islam, nor does it crown any government with halo and wings. It merely asks Waqf managers to be responsible custodians, not freebooters. And it allows, modestly, a seat or two for citizens outside the faith — a gesture that might even enrich debate if people choose to speak sense instead of slogans.

But sense is rarely popular in election season. Over the next few months, expect rival camps to wave this judgment like a cricket trophy, each claiming it for their team. The losers will claim betrayal; the winners will distribute laddoos. As for the ordinary Muslim, he may simply want to know whether his local graveyard is safe from encroachment — and whether he’ll need to queue up at the sub-registrar’s office.

If there’s a moral to this tale, it is that governance is not a tamasha. Community property, whether temple land, church trust or Waqf, is meant to serve the poor and preserve heritage. Transparency is not an enemy of faith; it is its ally.

The Supreme Court has spoken in the language of law. The rest is noise. And, as often happens in India, the noise may drown out the substance — until the day a quiet clerk asks for a copy of the title deed, and the crowd realises it has been celebrating a rule book.