Governance vs. Faith: Who Should Manage Religious Properties?

Who actually possesses a religious institution—the individuals worshiping in it, the community that maintains it, or the state that to some degree regulates it? The answer is usually not straightforward when the religious institution is not only a place of worship but also occupies some of the most valuable land on which an institution can sit.

India has been reminded of this complexity by the Supreme Court's suspension of certain key parts of the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025. This action raised questions that essentially go beyond legal jargon. Should places of worship have autonomous management over the property they own? Is the state required to supervise the management of religious institutions and their assets because of the principles of transparency, equity, or even the virtue of governance?

This presents a legal question, but at its essence, it is about a human belief and the unresolved tension between spiritual liberty and the role of governance.

The Waqf Act Explained: The confluence of faith and governance

Imagine a centuries-old mosque—not simply a place of worship, but a custodian of farmlands, rental houses, and shops. At this point, the question arises: who should manage those properties—the community or the state? This is what the Waqf Act was brought in to do: to protect and steward properties donated for religious and charitable purposes. But the numbers are staggering. India has over 8 lakh Waqf properties, making the Waqf Board—in total land area—the third largest landholder in the country, after Railways and the Defence Department. This includes mosques, graveyards, schools, hospitals, and large swaths of land. Of course, this raises questions. If Muslims make up only 14% of India’s population, how do Waqf land holdings become so significant? Is this due to centuries of devotion, or does it imply encroachment? To address some of these questions, Parliament passed the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025, a set of legislative changes that tightened land verification, but some felt increased government oversight. Again, more questions were raised, fearing the changes might give too much power in their implementation to the government, which may have motivations to interfere with faith. After the changes were made, in September 2025, the Supreme Court suspended certain provisions of the Acts, and then the question returned again: should governance govern sacred property, or should faith trump authority?

The Supreme Court's Suspension: A Watershed Moment

On September 15th, 2025, the Supreme Court issued a ruling that reignited the debate that has circulated widely throughout the country. The Court suspended sections from the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025, on the grounds of fairness, constitutional rights, and federalism. The Court argued that some amendments (for instance, the authority of the government to broadly review or reclaim waqf properties) challenged the rights of minority institutions and the role of the government. For some, this felt like a protective intervention of faith against political overreach. For others, it reinstated needed reforms with the hope of curbing illegal occupancy, eliminating deception, and bringing transparency to the legitimacy of land ownership. The verdict did not settle the debate; the debate intensified. Suddenly, television panels, columns in the newspaper, and texts and messages on WhatsApp were inundated with inquiries: Is the state overstepping its bounds? Or is it simply trying to regulate massive landholdings that affect the lives of millions of people? More than a legal decision, the suspension has become a symbolic moment that illustrates how the management of religious property is not simply about land (or property itself) but about identity, trust, and the politics that manage the balance between state and faith.

When the Sacred Space Meets the Everyday Life

Waqf properties are not just legal instruments; they shape people's lives. Consider Rahul, a tailor, who had a small shop located on land later claimed by the Waqf board. Under the old Waqf law, he had no legal means to challenge the claim. His livelihood and income source were suddenly in jeopardy, and he found himself in a powerless position. Rahul's story is not a unique one. There are over 8 lakh waqf properties in India, and due to illegal occupations and mismanagement, numerous families have been displaced, small businesses disrupted, and community services dependent on these assets hampered. This is where it becomes essential for the government to step into the frame and regulate the situation. The 2025 amendment to the Waqf Act was designed to create an oversight and verification mechanism for addressing improper claims and ensuring waqf properties are functioning as intended, all while ensuring ordinary citizens are protected against wrongful claims. Regulation is not about regulating faith; it is about ensuring mosques, schools, hospitals, and small businesses like Rahul's tailoring shop are able to operate safely and fairly. The reality is that the state protects both property and people by creating some accountability for boards. The state demonstrated that sacred spaces can remain sacred and still be just.

Faith and Governance: Finding the Balance

The Waqf debate goes far beyond law, highlighting the tension between faith and governance. Religious communities stress that places of worship are sacred, and government interference can risk undermining spiritual freedom. Since millions of people depend on these properties for hospitals, schools, and small businesses like Rahul's tailoring shop, governance experts stress openness, equity, and asset protection. Livelihoods and community services may be directly impacted by poor management or unlawful occupation.

The 2025 amendment aimed to achieve this balance by making sure that holy properties benefit the people for whom they were intended, not by regulating belief. The incomes of regular people can be protected, healthcare and education can be supported, and assets can be shielded from abuse through oversight.

In the end, this argument is a tale of cohabitation. Justice need not be impeded by faith, and belief need not be suppressed by governance. The state can support the preservation of holy and just spaces by encouraging openness, responsibility, and equity. It serves as a reminder that religious freedom and civic duty can coexist and that well-managed religious property can bring people together rather than drive them apart.