Every time Asaduddin Owaisi opens his mouth, the word ‘Samvidhan’ (Constitution) makes a cameo — almost like a catchphrase in a B-grade political drama. It’s getting repetitive, tiresome, and frankly, insulting to anyone with even a basic understanding of the Indian Constitution. Owaisi, the AIMIM chief and Hyderabad MP, seems to have assumed the dual role of a walking Constitution and its self-declared interpreter. And while he might be a decent man personally, his public persona is soaked in theatrics, misinformation, and a baffling amount of selective amnesia.
Let me get one thing straight: the Constitution isn’t some frozen-in-time relic to be blindly worshipped. It’s a living document — amended over a hundred times to reflect India’s evolving realities. And no, Mr. Owaisi, quoting Dr. B.R. Ambedkar in every other sentence doesn’t automatically make your arguments sacred.
Ambedkar himself would probably disown half the things Owaisi attributes to him. The truth is, many of the provisions Owaisi defends — from Article 370 to the archaic Triple Talaq practice — were either opposed by Ambedkar or inserted by political compulsions of the Nehruvian era.
Take Article 370 and 35A — temporary provisions, mind you — shoehorned into the Constitution not by Ambedkar but by Nehru, primarily to appease his comrade Sheikh Abdullah. These Articles allowed Jammu & Kashmir to function like a semi-sovereign state with its own Constitution and even its own flag (as if one flag wasn’t enough). When the Modi government finally had the spine to scrap these outdated provisions, Owaisi and his ilk cried foul, predicted bloodbaths, and declared it “unconstitutional.” Fast forward — not a drop of blood, and Kashmir today is on a path of real development, democracy, and dignity. The Supreme Court upheld the move, and ironically, the state now has a democratically elected government again — led by none other than the National Conference.
So, who’s got egg on their face now?
Then came the hullabaloo around Triple Talaq. According to Owaisi, criminalizing this regressive practice was an assault on Islam. Reality check: millions of Muslim women breathed a sigh of relief. The community didn’t rise in rebellion. No mass exodus. No blood on the streets. Just peace, progress, and legal protection for the vulnerable.
And let’s not forget the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA). Owaisi’s speeches on this topic could’ve given Alfred Hitchcock a run for his money. Doom. Gloom. Statelessness. Invasions. Theatrics galore. What happened in the end? Absolutely nothing. Not a single Indian Muslim lost their citizenship. But Owaisi managed to spook a section of his community long enough to milk some headlines and maybe a few votes.
Now, he’s at it again — crying foul over amendments to the Wakf Act, claiming it’s unconstitutional and that the Wakf Boards are religious entities. This, despite multiple court rulings — including from the Supreme Court — clarifying that Wakf Boards are charitable trusts that primarily manage land records, not religious scripture. The Constitution does not allow parallel land governance by faith-based boards. So, if anything, it’s their very existence that deserves legal scrutiny.
Let’s talk facts: the Indian Constitution has seen 106 amendments as of November 2024. The very first amendment in 1951 — under Nehru’s watch — tinkered with fundamental rights like Article 15 and 19. Articles 31A and 31B were inserted. Over the years, amendments have ranged from minor procedural tweaks to major overhauls — including during the dark Emergency period when the soul of the Constitution was under siege.
The most recent one? An amendment in 2023 to reserve one-third of the seats in Parliament and state legislatures for women. Somehow, no one cried “unconstitutional” over that.
So why is it that only when reforms benefit Muslim women, clarify land ownership, or challenge old vote-bank politics, Owaisi develops a sudden love for the Constitution? Because it’s not about the Constitution. It’s about control. It’s about keeping the community boxed in, agitated, and conveniently usable as electoral pawns.
What Owaisi fails to realize is that we no longer live in an era where one needs an overseas barrister degree or a library card to understand the Constitution. Today, any teenager with a smartphone can fact-check Article 368 or look up judicial precedents. The age of blind rhetoric is over.
Owaisi barely held on to his own seat in the last election — scraping through by less than a lakh votes against a strong BJP challenger. In my view, with the political tide shifting and groups like the Pasmandas and Ahmadis openly questioning decades of elite dominance within the Muslim community, even his once-safe Hyderabad seat is starting to look wobbly. If the Uniform Civil Code becomes law by 2026, that rug might be yanked out from under him entirely.
So far, Owaisi’s melodramatic lectures on the Constitution are wearing thin. The community is waking up. Bharat is changing. And the Constitution? It’s doing just fine — evolving, adapting, and enduring. Maybe it’s time Mr. Owaisi stopped using it as a political prop and started respecting it for what it is: a living, breathing document meant for all, not just for prime-time posturing.
