Rishabh JainIn the ancient, winding gullies of Varanasi, a new strain of religious nationalism is unfolding. It moves in silence and spectacle, in sandalwood and saffron, through alleys once devoted to quiet devotion. Now, it is tearing apart India’s religious and social fabric.
Right-wing Hindutva groups, such as the Sanatan Raksha Dal (SRD) and The Group for Protection Of Santan, have taken it upon themselves to ‘reclaim’ what they believe were once Hindu temples, allegedly destroyed or converted into mosques by the Muslim Mughal rulers. Such groups have appointed themselves custodians of a restoration campaign.
Dressed in saffron robes and bearing the sacred chandan (sandalwood) marks on their foreheads, members of these groups traverse ancient cities, armed with unproven historical claims and local folklore. Their mission? To unearth and restore traces of Hindu temples they claim were demolished or repurposed by the Mughal leaders, who ruled most of India between the 16th and 19th centuries.
For Hindu nationalists, these claims are part of a broader effort to restore Hindu supremacy and “decolonise” India from its Muslim and British past.
This, however, seems to have been spiraling out of control. The RSS, the ideological parent of the BJP, has voiced concern over escalating mosque- temple disputes, with the leadership urging restraint and questioning the logic of targeting thousands of mosques. The current tenor of messaging reflects RSS’s growing loss of control over the fringe groups it once supported.
Amrit Sinha, International President of Sanatan Rakshak Dal, asserts that testimonies from community elders and Brahmins (upper-caste Hindus) serve as their guiding evidence. Recently, his group identified a temple in Madanpura, a Muslim-majority neighbourhood in Varanasi. They argue that the site, reportedly closed for 40 years, is a 250-year-old Hindu temple.
“You will find that most of these sites are either in Muslim areas or there are now mosques above them, or even in some cases, a graveyard,” Sinha tells TRT World, underscoring the ideological core of the movement.
Varanasi’s Kashi Vishwanath Corridor, hailed as a symbol of spiritual revival, threatens to erase Dalmandi’s Muslim traders’ legacy and livelihood.
Gaining momentum
What began as isolated efforts in a few cities has gained unprecedented traction following the Supreme Court’s 2019 ruling in the Babri Masjid case, which awarded the contested site in Ayodhya to Hindu claimants.
That ruling, which handed over the contested land of the Babri Masjid to Hindu claimants, effectively granted legitimacy to what had, until then, been viewed by many as a fringe campaign. Since then, temple recovery efforts have multiplied with renewed zeal and unsettling force.
Since then, similar campaigns have emerged nationwide, drawing on the ruling as justification. Critics argue that these actions—once dismissed as fringe efforts—are now fuelling communal tensions countrywide.
In March 2025, unrest erupted in Nagpur over the tomb of the 17th-century Mughal emperor Aurangzeb. On March 17, 2025, members of right-wing Hindu nationalist groups, including the Vishva Hindu Parishad (VHP) and Bajrang Dal, staged protests demanding the removal of Aurangzeb's tomb. The demonstrations escalated into violent clashes, resulting in injuries to over 30 individuals, including police officers, and leading to the imposition of an indefinite curfew in parts of Nagpur.
Just a hundred miles away, in Kanpur, Pramila Pandey, a local BJP legislator, has taken charge of what she calls a historic reclamation initiative: to identify and restore 125 temples across the city, many of them located in Muslim-majority neighbourhoods.
Her campaign, though framed as preservationist, carries clear political overtones. Leading the effort herself, Pandey argues that these temples were abandoned, neglected or illegally occupied. However, her campaign has sparked controversy, with critics warning that such efforts could inflame religious discord.
In Aligarh, in Uttar Pradesh district near Delhi, a chilly December evening marked another site of contested sanctity. Right-wing groups, including Bajrang Dal and Karni Sena, entered a neighbourhood mosque area with local BJP leaders in tow.
Under police protection, they unlocked what they claimed was a long-lost temple. The following morning, local Hindu spiritual leader Yogi Kaushal Nath, arrived at the site and performed a puja, a sacred act of worship, claiming the site now belongs to Hindus.
This is not about enforcing syncretism. But a cause of concern for some: If a non-compliant item such as meat is found in the neighbourhood, that could be reason enough to potentially trigger communal discord.
The pattern repeats in towns like Sambhal, where a court-ordered survey of the Jama Masjid (mosque) — intended to determine whether it was originally a Hindu temple — triggered violent clashes. The unrest left five dead and led to the arrest of 74 people, mostly Muslims.
Similar flare-ups now shadow towns and cities across India, wherever mosque-temple disputes remain unresolved.
In a society increasingly shaped by propaganda films and political provocations, history is not being remembered—it is being weaponised.
Legal labyrinth
Beneath the religious theatre is an increasingly strained legal framework. Currently, 18 cases concerning the status of 10 mosques and Muslim shrines are pending in Indian courts. Recognising the potential for escalating conflicts, the Supreme Court has temporarily halted lower courts from hearing new petitions or issuing rulings on places of worship.
At the centre of these legal battles is the Places of Worship Act, 1991, a law passed in the aftermath of the Ram Janmabhoomi movement, designed to preserve the religious character of places as they stood in 1947. The Act carved out one notable exception: Babri Masjid. That single exemption now risks paving the way for fresh disputes.
In Mathura, legal petitioners have targeted the Shahi Idgah mosque, claiming it was built on the birthplace of Lord Krishna. In Varanasi, the Gyanvapi Mosque is under similar scrutiny. A court-ordered survey there unearthed what Hindu petitioners allege is a Shivling—a symbolic representation of Lord Shiva. Muslim groups argue it is a centuries-old fountain.
“The ex-Chief Justice has caused us major harm in all this,” says SM Yasin, Joint Secretary of the Association of Mosques’ Management Committee. “He has not just harmed Muslims but the entire India. If there had been no order on the survey, then there would have been no Gyanvapi issue,” he tells TRT World.
Spaces shrinking for Muslims
Beyond the temple reclamation movement, the demolition of mosques under various legal pretexts has deepened fears among India’s Muslim community.
In Gorakhpur, a two-storey mosque was voluntarily demolished by its own management following a notice from the local Development Authority, which deemed it noncompliant with zoning laws. To many, it felt like a coerced retreat.
Yasin challenges this justification: "If the mosque already had one storey and was in use, then why was there a need for additional permissions? These laws are meant for commercial buildings, not places of worship."
Others speak of a more insidious form of displacement.
Muslim leaders argue that access to religious sites is being systematically curtailed. Committees representing the community have lodged numerous complaints with authorities, but they claim little action is taken.
“The government should decide what they have to do. Their job is to ensure that the law is not violated. But they are violating the Supreme Court’s order, which stopped any action on other places of worship,” says Azam Qadri, President of the Sunni Central Waqf Board’s sub-committee in Ayodhya.
Ayodhya’s Waqf Board officially lists 125 graveyards and 100 mosques. Qadri claims many of these are under threat—encroached upon by construction projects or targeted by religious groups, often with tacit official approval.
The BJP government’s long proposed amendments to the Waqf Act, 1995 by granting the government more control, including requiring valid documents for waqf property claims and allowing non-Muslims on waqf boards. The controversial bill since passed also introduces judicial intervention and a centralised registration system for waqf properties.
The rise of this trend is more apparent in younger generations, and carries grave implications for Islamophobia in the United States.
Fragile legal pause
In a rare legal reprieve for Muslims, the Supreme Court has temporarily frozen petitions under the Places of Worship Act, 1991, until it hears arguments on its constitutionality.
Advocate Anas Tanwir, Founder of the Indian Civil Liberties Union, hails this decision as a landmark moment.
“I am quite hopeful that the Supreme Court will understand and will reiterate the principles on which this act rests, which is the principle of secularism. If we start going into the historical wrongs, it will scuttle our progress into the modern world,” he told TRT World.
As tensions mount, religious leaders, legal experts, and community organisations stress the urgent need for dialogue and stronger legal protections. Qadri underscored the broader issue: "The government’s job is to ensure that laws are upheld, not violated. We must move beyond temple-mosque disputes and focus on development and national goodwill."
Tanwir agrees. “If we continue to correct perceived historical wrongs, we risk derailing India’s progress,” he says. “The judiciary has an urgent role in setting clear legal precedents to prevent such conflicts from escalating further.”
