Hindus flee homes, 150 arrested in Bengal Waqf Act chaos—Mamata, BJP trade blame over deadly unrest

Why did protests erupt in West Bengal over the Waqf Act?

West Bengal witnessed a surge in communal tension this week as violent protests erupted in Murshidabad and adjoining districts, triggered by opposition to the recently amended Waqf Act. The unrest, which has so far claimed three lives and led to over 150 arrests, began with demonstrations against provisions of the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2024, a central legislation that protestors claim infringes on land rights and religious balance.

The Waqf Act, originally enacted in 1995 to regulate and manage Muslim charitable endowments, has long been a point of contention in several states. The recent amendment, introduced by the central government, aims to bring greater transparency in the management of waqf properties and curb alleged misuse. However, critics argue that the law disproportionately empowers waqf boards and overrides local land governance structures. In West Bengal, where communal sensitivities run deep, the legislation has triggered fears that it could lead to forcible land takeovers and increase religious polarization.

What happened in Murshidabad and how did it escalate?

The situation in Murshidabad deteriorated quickly after a local protest against the Waqf Act spiraled into violent clashes between communities. According to state officials, the initial demonstrations were peaceful but were soon infiltrated by politically motivated groups who allegedly incited violence by spreading misinformation about religious land encroachments.

Eyewitness accounts from the affected areas describe scenes of arson, stone-pelting, and targeted attacks on homes. Over 400 people, primarily from the Hindu community, are reported to have fled their residences fearing further violence. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) claims that these families were “forced to flee” due to the law-and-order failure and accused the state government of turning a blind eye to growing radicalisation.

In response to the deteriorating situation, the Calcutta High Court issued a directive ordering the immediate deployment of central paramilitary forces. The court, calling the situation “grave and volatile,” emphasised the need for swift action to prevent communal flare-ups from spreading further. Internet services were suspended in key areas of Murshidabad as a preventive measure.

What is the political fallout and how has each party responded?

The West Bengal government, led by Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee, has rejected allegations of administrative apathy. Speaking at a press briefing, Banerjee urged citizens to maintain peace and assured them that the state would not implement the central government’s version of the Waqf Act. She described the violence as a politically orchestrated attempt to destabilise the region ahead of the 2026 state elections, blaming “external agents” for spreading communal hate.

In contrast, BJP’s Leader of the Opposition Suvendu Adhikari took a confrontational stance, accusing the Trinamool Congress (TMC) government of “appeasement politics” that has emboldened fringe elements. He claimed that Hindus in the affected regions were deliberately targeted and demanded central intervention to ensure justice for displaced families. Adhikari also raised concerns over the opacity of land records and accused state agencies of suppressing the truth under political pressure.

The BJP has called for a detailed National Investigation Agency (NIA) probe into what it terms a “communal conspiracy,” while the TMC maintains that any violence will be dealt with under the state’s jurisdiction and within constitutional boundaries.

What historical factors make the Waqf Act sensitive in Bengal?

West Bengal has a history of religious and land-related tensions, with memories of Partition, the 1971 influx of refugees, and multiple incidents of communal violence still resonating among its citizens. The state’s complex demography—home to a substantial Muslim population and large rural Hindu communities—makes land governance a politically charged issue.

The Waqf Act has often been viewed by sections of the population as giving undue authority to minority institutions over land rights. In the past, opposition parties have flagged alleged irregularities in waqf land allotments. A 2011 report by a central parliamentary committee had highlighted lack of oversight and frequent disputes between private owners and waqf boards, especially in states with higher Muslim populations.

The current unrest taps into long-standing fears about land alienation, religious identity, and political exploitation of communal divisions. As such, the issue resonates far beyond the technicalities of legal reform, becoming a lightning rod for social unrest.

How is the legal system responding to the escalating violence?

The Calcutta High Court’s decision to bring in central forces underscores the gravity of the situation. In its remarks, the court criticised the apparent delay in restoring normalcy and held that the state’s assurances alone were insufficient to protect vulnerable communities.

Legal experts point out that the court’s intervention reflects a broader pattern seen in other states where communal violence has erupted following land or religious disputes. Courts have often stepped in when political or administrative measures fail to provide quick redress. However, they also caution that the use of central forces must be proportionate and limited in duration to avoid perceptions of state overreach.

The Centre has so far refrained from commenting directly on the Bengal government’s handling of the situation, though sources within the Ministry of Home Affairs have reportedly sought detailed reports on the law-and-order breakdown.

What does this mean for communal harmony and governance in the state?

The violent fallout from the Waqf Act protests has reopened deep societal rifts in West Bengal, bringing to the fore questions about governance, identity, and the rule of law. For Mamata Banerjee’s government, which has projected itself as a bulwark against Hindutva politics, the incident poses a critical challenge in managing communal perceptions while retaining its traditional voter base.

For the BJP, the violence offers an opportunity to consolidate support among rural Hindu communities by positioning itself as a protector of majority rights. The political narrative in the state is increasingly polarised, with both sides using the Waqf Act as a proxy to push broader ideological agendas.

Observers fear that if the tensions are not swiftly contained, they could lead to further instability in districts already prone to electoral volatility. The deployment of central forces, while necessary in the short term, must be coupled with community outreach and transparent legal processes to rebuild trust among the population.

Ultimately, the Murshidabad unrest serves as a stark reminder of how legislative reforms—especially those intersecting religion, land, and identity—can become flashpoints in politically fragile regions. As the state continues to grapple with its response, the rest of India watches closely, aware that West Bengal often sets the tone for larger national debates on secularism, federalism, and communal harmony.