Indian Muslims grapple with loss amid home demolitions

Shahid Malik is fighting for a home that no longer exists. For the past two years, Malik, an accountant by trade, has been seeking justice alongside a local lawyer for the demolition of his house and more than two dozen others in Kharak Riwara Satbari, a neighborhood in southwest Delhi, reports Al Jazeera. 

In October 2022, the Delhi Development Authority (DDA), responsible for urban planning, housing, and land management, demolished the homes without prior notice or surveys. The demolition followed a court ruling transferring land control to a private builder.

Malik has filed two cases—one on behalf of the Resident Welfare Association and another for his own home. However, the hearings have faced repeated delays. "The hearings are constantly postponed, and we haven't had the chance to voice our grievances. How long must we wait?" he laments.

Malik's loss extends far beyond the destruction of his house. His son, Ziyan, was born with cardiovascular complications just two months before their home was razed. "His condition worsened after we were forced out into the cold," Malik recounts, gesturing toward the rubble that once was his home.

The same evening their house was demolished, Malik rushed his crying infant to a doctor. Over the following six days, Ziyan was moved between hospitals before being placed on a ventilator in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit at the All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS), New Delhi. One frigid October morning, the couple watched helplessly as Ziyan's body turned blue. He passed away, struggling to breathe. 

For the family, Ziyan's death was a direct consequence of losing their home. "Doctors told us the dust exposure made it even harder for him to breathe," Malik says. "My wife and I still tremble with pain when we think of Ziyan. We were given no notice—authorities stole both our home and our son."

Malik's story is not unique. In recent years, hundreds of Indian Muslims have seen their homes demolished without notice or legal justification. These homes, where generations lived and dreamed, are often destroyed under the guise of urban development, beautification drives, or clearing "illegal encroachments." In many cases, however, these demolitions are framed as punitive measures against activists or government critics in states governed by Prime Minister Narendra Modi's Hindu-majoritarian Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Leaders like Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath and former Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan have earned nicknames like "Bulldozer Baba" and "Bulldozer Mama," respectively, for their aggressive demolition campaigns—campaigns that have disproportionately targeted Muslims.

"The claims of 'unauthorised constructions' are inconsistent and repeatedly target one specific community," says Najmus Saqib, a lawyer with the Association for Protection of Civil Rights, a civil rights advocacy group. "In this climate, it becomes increasingly difficult to convince the community to trust judicial institutions. A pervasive sense of hopelessness has taken hold."

In June 2022, authorities in Prayagraj, Uttar Pradesh—formerly known as Allahabad—demolished the home of activist and community leader Javed Mohammed. He was charged under the National Security Act and labeled the "mastermind" of violence that erupted in the city following derogatory remarks made by then-BJP spokesperson Nupur Sharma about Prophet Muhammad.

The irony of the situation, according to Saqib, is striking. "The Prayagraj Development Authority, which oversaw the demolition, has itself failed to produce a sanctioned map of its own office building," he says. The development body did not respond to requests for comment from *Al Jazeera* about allegations of misconduct.

The impact of these demolitions lingers long after the bulldozers leave. Families are forced to rebuild their lives from scratch, often in makeshift tents, new neighborhoods, or distant cities. Their struggles are compounded by limited access to healthcare, nutrition, safety, sanitation, and irregular water and electricity in these new locations.

In June 2024, Salma Bano's home was among 1,600 houses bulldozed in Akbar Nagar, Uttar Pradesh, to make way for the Kukrail riverfront development project in Lucknow. Over 1,000 Muslim families were evicted, and saplings were planted over the debris of their homes to create a forest. 

"Our entire neighborhood was surrounded by bulldozers, and within hours, everything was turned to dust. We didn't have anything to eat for the next two or three days," Bano recalls. Now living in a government-allocated house in Vasant Kunj, 15 km (9 miles) from her old home, she says her family is still struggling. "Every day, we have to think about how much we eat because we don't have enough income. I have five children—how can I feed them when my home and my world are shattered?"

Bano's concerns extend to her children's education. Their old school was much closer, but now the family cannot afford the school fees or transportation costs. To add to their challenges, the family must repay the government for the house in instalments. "Everyday essentials are much more expensive here than they were in Akbar Nagar. Inflation is eating us alive. I feel like our future is completely ruined."

Her husband, Mohammad Ishaq, adds that the demolition has fractured their family. Previously, his parents and brothers lived with them. "There's no space for them in this tiny new flat. I also lost my job and had to take a loan to buy an auto rickshaw so I can earn a living. I don't know how long I can keep this up," he says. "Can we ever get our old life back?"

In a recent judgment, the Supreme Court of India ruled that government authorities cannot demolish property belonging to individuals accused of a crime without following due legal process. The ruling mandates that property owners must be given advance notice and an opportunity to contest the order.

This decision is "a great relief," says Kumar Sambhav, founder of Land Conflict Watch, a research initiative analyzing land conflicts in India. However, he points out that the judgment only addresses punitive demolitions. "Homes built on public land are exempt from this order, leaving an ambiguous gap that may continue to enable the targeting of minority communities. Without the right to housing, the landless and homeless often live on common lands, and their homes are always at risk of being labeled as encroachments."

The psychological toll of these demolitions is immense, mental health professionals warn. "There's an irreparable sense of displacement," says Zulekha Shakoor Rajani, a Bangalore-based psychologist. "Personal trauma is compounded by collective trauma, severely impacting the mental health of many Muslims across the country. People feel abandoned, unsupported, and unsafe even in their own homes, leading to a distorted sense of reality."

This lack of support often fosters a deep sense of isolation and despair.

Javed Mohammed, the community leader, was in jail when authorities demolished his home in Prayagraj on June 12, 2022. His primary concern was ensuring the safety of his wife and daughters, Afreen Fatima and Sumaiya Fatima. 

"But many people close to us were hesitant to help," Mohammed recalls. "They were afraid. I think they feared their own homes might also be arbitrarily bulldozed if they supported us. I understand their fear because what happened to us was unlawful and arbitrary. At that time, we felt utterly alone."

After months of struggle, the family managed to secure a rented home in Prayagraj. However, the landlord faced frequent harassment from local police for providing them shelter. Even now, more than two years later, Mohammed's social relationships remain strained. 

"I was once well-connected in my city, interacting regularly with many individuals and organizations. But after this ordeal, people are scared to associate with me," he explains. "People I used to see daily now avoid me or refuse to speak to me on the phone. My social life has never recovered, and that sense of loneliness lingers."

The widespread use of bulldozer demolitions against Muslims in India acts as psychological warfare, analysts say. 

"For healing to begin, the violence must stop," notes psychologist Zulekha Shakoor Rajani. "We are witnessing a rise in complex post-traumatic stress disorder cases, where recurring flashbacks, ruminating thoughts, and nightmares prevent people from moving past their losses."

In August 2023, authorities in Nuh, Haryana, bulldozed over 1,000 Muslim homes, shanties, and small businesses. They accused the community of participating in violence during a provocative and armed Hindu supremacist procession that marched through Muslim neighborhoods.

Saddam Ali (name changed for anonymity) lost both his home and his medical store in the demolitions. "We had no idea this would happen. Now, while I try to rebuild my home, I am watching my son sink into depression," Ali says. "He has become dependent on antidepressants."

"The pain of losing everything he had worked so hard to build—reduced to rubble in mere minutes—was too much for him to bear."