Bulldozer justice

The best way to promote liberal values is to educate children. Historically, prosperous, well-functioning and successful societies have always emphasised the importance of education. Societies that have invested in higher education have generally experienced a rise in the middle class, experienced fewer human rights abuses, promoted democracy, and have been less discriminatory. From Plato’s vision of the philosopher-king, through the rise of medieval universities under the influence of Christianity in the 11th century, to the Enlightenment of the 17th and 18th centuries and into the present day, entrenched orthodoxies have repeatedly obstructed humanity’s pursuit of knowledge and truth.

Muhammad Ali Johar University in India stands on the brink of demolition. Authorities allege that 38 of its 40 buildings were constructed in violation of land acquisition regulations. The university is located in the Rampur district of the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. Fifty per cent of the population of this district is Muslim, and there are almost 3,000 students, most of whom are Muslims, receiving higher education in this university and now face the unfortunate prospect of an abrupt end to their educational pursuits. The university’s Chancellor, Azam Khan, established the Muhammad Ali Johar Trust in 2003 and is a founding member of the Samajwadi Party. Since the BJP came to power in Uttar Pradesh in 2017, more than one hundred criminal cases have reportedly been registered against him. Khan spent approximately two years in jail before being granted bail by the Supreme Court in 2022. Since the early 1980s, he has repeatedly represented his constituency in the Uttar Pradesh Legislative Assembly and has also served as the Leader of the Opposition.

As an independent political analyst and as a person who himself professes at a university, I look at this issue from three dimensions – legal, political and social. Legally, the issue has been framed as a violation of the rule of law, and the matter will be best decided by judicial scrutiny. The University’s Vice-Chancellor argues that the village in which the campus is located came under the jurisdiction of the Rampur district administration (RDA) only in 2024. Consequently, he contends that no prior approval from the district authorities was required for the university’s construction. However, the RDA has cautioned the university that it will take down the illegal buildings by 5 August 2026. There is also this question of the legal framework: was the RDA effective at the time of construction of the university? Why were no notices issued to the university for noncompliance with regulatory rules earlier? The university must have some kind of documents and records for approval. An urgent judicial oversight is needed for a likely administrative action that seems arbitrary.

Politically, the proposed demolition has fueled perceptions that the action is discriminatory towards a minority community. Critics argue that it reflects selective enforcement of the law, noting that no comparable punitive action appears to have been taken against any other university under similar circumstances. They also question the timing: if the alleged violations have existed for years and the BJP has governed Uttar Pradesh since 2017, why has demolition now become an urgent priority rather than being pursued earlier?

Socially, the proposed demolition raises questions that extend well beyond planning regulations. The most fundamental of these is whether the state can afford to view the university merely as a physical complex of buildings. A university is far more than its infrastructure; it is a social institution that creates opportunities, shapes aspirations and transforms lives. For thousands of students – many of them from the Muslim community and a significant proportion of whom are women – this institution represents access to higher education that might otherwise remain beyond their reach. It also stands as a symbol of educational advancement within the community while supporting the livelihoods of faculty, administrative staff, and countless others whose economic well-being depends on its continued existence.

A more fundamental question is whether demolition constitutes a proportionate response to the alleged violations. If the objective is to enforce planning and regulatory laws, could less destructive remedies have achieved the same purpose without jeopardising the education of thousands of students? This question assumes added political significance in the context of India’s changing political landscape since Prime Minister Narendra Modi came to power in 2014. The rise of Hindu nationalism and the growing influence of the idea of a Hindu Rashtra have fueled concerns among many observers that Muslims have become increasingly vulnerable to discriminatory state action. Against this backdrop, critics have frequently characterised the BJP government’s use of demolition drives against properties linked to Muslims as a form of ‘bulldozer justice’. Critics point to a series of demolition drives in recent years, including those in Jahangirpuri, New Delhi (2022), where shops and the entrance to a mosque were demolished; in Madhya Pradesh (2022), involving a commercial and residential development associated with Muslims; in Haryana (2023), where Muslim-owned homes and businesses were razed; in Mumbai (2024), where properties belonging to Muslims were demolished; and in Akbar Nagar, Lucknow (2024), where thousands of residential structures were cleared.

In a constitutional democracy as large and diverse as India, there should be no place for what critics describe as ‘bulldozer justice’ if planning and regulatory laws are enforced consistently, transparently, and without discrimination. The rule of law demands that the same legal standards be applied to every institution, irrespective of its political affiliations or the religious identity of those associated with it. Equally important, due process must be respected: clear notices should be issued, adequate time provided to respond, and enforcement measures should always remain proportionate to the violation. Universities, for their part, must also ensure full compliance with planning and regulatory requirements. Above all, the continuity of students’ education should remain a paramount consideration, with every effort made to prevent legal disputes from disrupting their academic future. Finally, an active civil society, an independent media and vigilant human rights organisations have a vital role to play in ensuring that public debate remains objective, evidence-based and accountable. Only through the combined observance of legality, proportionality and institutional oversight can such deeply regrettable outcomes be avoided.