Judicial Oversight of Religious Property Laws: Challenges to the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025

The Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025 has triggered intense legal and public debate, not just for what it aims to do but for how it seeks to do it. Framed as a reform measure to tighten the administration of waqf properties—charitable endowments under Islamic law—the Act has come under scrutiny for allegedly expanding the powers of Waqf Boards while cutting down on basic legal remedies. This has raised serious constitutional questions, especially about access to justice, property rights, and equality before the law.

The idea behind waqf is deeply rooted in Islamic tradition—a permanent dedication of property for religious or charitable purposes. Over time, state-level Waqf Boards have been tasked with managing these properties. But the system has often come under fire for inefficiency, corruption, and disputes over land ownership. The 2025

amendment, according to the government, was meant to bring clarity and improve governance. Yet in doing so, it may have overstepped.

One of the most controversial changes is the blanket bar on civil courts from hearing waqf related disputes. The amended law insists that only Waqf Tribunals can adjudicate these matters. On the surface, this may seem like an administrative streamlining effort—but in practice, it could mean cutting off the public’s access to a more neutral and robust judicial process. Many petitions have now reached various High Courts, arguing that this provision violates Article 14 (right to equality) and Article 300A (protection of property) of the Constitution.

These are not minor concerns. Imagine a situation where a non-Muslim landowner suddenly finds their property declared as waqf. Under the new law, they can’t even approach a civil court to challenge it. Instead, they’re forced to go before a Waqf Tribunal—a body that is often closely linked to the same Waqf Board that made the initial claim. This is not just a legal problem; it’s a justice problem.

Judicial precedents are clear on this point. While the courts have long recognized the special nature of waqf under personal law, they’ve also emphasized that statutory bodies and religious institutions must operate within the constitutional framework. In Azeez Basha v. Union of India, the Supreme Court made it clear that when religious bodies function under state regulation, they’re not above constitutional oversight.

This is where the judiciary has an important role to play. It’s not about invalidating the idea of Waqf Tribunals, but about ensuring that they function fairly, transparently, and with adequate checks. Excluding civil courts entirely creates a dangerous precedent—not just for waqf, but for any system where one statutory body could become the judge, jury, and executioner in property matters.

There are also wider implications. India is a religiously diverse country, and communal tensions can easily flare up around issues of land and religious rights. When the law seems to favour

one group without offering others a fair legal path, it doesn’t just create legal issues—it undermines social harmony and public trust in institutions.

The way forward isn’t to throw out the amendment altogether, but to refine it. Civil courts must be allowed to act as a final safeguard. Waqf Tribunals can serve as the first step, but they should be subject to appeal and review in regular courts. That’s the only way to balance efficient administration with constitutional justice.

In the end, the judiciary’s role in overseeing religious property laws must be guided by both the spirit of the Constitution and the realities on the ground. Fairness, transparency, and access to justice cannot be sacrificed at the altar of administrative convenience. And in a democracy, no law—religious or otherwise—should be beyond constitutional scrutiny.