CAA Was the Trigger, Not the Cause: Why Muslims Took to the Streets

As soon as the NDA government re-floated the idea of the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill two months ago, unrest spread across India. Mobilisation against the law began in Delhi in early December. Meetings of Muslim students at JNU, the call to Jantar Mantar by United Against Hate, protest marches at Jamia Millia Islamia, the roadblock at Shaheen Bagh, and then the violent police action at Jamia—all unfolded within the first fortnight of December. Soon after, Aligarh Muslim University was attacked, and the killing of Muslims in Uttar Pradesh further agitated public sentiment, drawing even more people to the streets.

Over the last two months, protests, marches, and rallies have become a regular feature of Muslim localities across Indian cities. Muslims have finally come out in large numbers to demand their rights—and that, in itself, is a significant achievement, the first step towards political awakening.

Over the last few years, Muslims in India have become increasingly conscious of the discrimination they face. The unilateral revocation of Jammu and Kashmir’s autonomy and the prolonged lockdown, the criminalisation of Muslim men through the Triple Talaq law, the Babri Masjid verdict, and numerous other developments haunted the community in 2019 alone. The five years preceding that saw a steady rise in lynchings, routine targeting of Muslims, and increasingly caustic anti-Muslim rhetoric becoming mainstream. These experiences have only reinforced a deeper realisation—shaped over seventy years since Independence—that Muslims have consistently been treated as second-class citizens, and at times subjected to mass violence by both the state apparatus and right-wing mobs.

It would therefore be a mistake to reduce Muslim discontent to a single issue such as the CAA. The NRC-CAA framework is better understood as a tipping point—a trigger rather than the origin. What we are witnessing is a protest against decades of systemic oppression, not merely an isolated legislative act. Acknowledging this is crucial to understanding the scale and intensity of the current mobilisation.

What are we saving?

A debate has emerged around the idea that Muslims are on the streets to “save the Constitution”. Many voices in civil society, along with some well-meaning Muslims, subscribe to this framing. However, conversations with the Muslim masses reveal a more complex reality. A significant section does not clearly understand what the Constitution is, or what it has meant for them historically. This itself raises a question: are Muslims really protesting to save the Constitution?

There exists a substantial body of scholarship and opinion that challenges the assumption that the Constitution is as inclusive or radical as it is often presented to be. Several constitutional provisions and institutional arrangements have, in practice, contributed to the marginalisation of Muslims over the last seven decades. Issues such as centre-state relations, the definition of “Hindu” (particularly in relation to Dalit Muslims), cow protection laws, and the First-Past-the-Post electoral system have all played a role in denying Muslims a fair share in power.

At the same time, the present struggle is fundamentally about survival. The citizenship regime introduced by the CAA poses an existential threat. Those fighting for survival cannot be expected to prioritise saving the secular character of a polity that has rarely acted in a secular manner towards them. If India were truly secular, Dalit Muslims would have been recognised long ago, and Dalits would not lose their status upon converting to Islam. The denial of this right exposes the hollowness of claims about secularism. To suggest that Muslims are out on the streets to save secularism risks misleading the masses.

Moreover, the Constitution is ultimately interpreted by the judiciary, leaving ample room for institutional bias. The Babri Masjid verdict stands as a stark example: the court acknowledged the illegal demolition of the mosque, yet awarded the land to those responsible for its destruction. With minimal representation in the executive and legislature for decades, Muslims have rarely found sympathetic voices in governance. After the Babri verdict, the judiciary too is widely perceived as compromised.

Muslims are anxious because the threat of statelessness is real. They are on the streets to save themselves. If saving themselves requires amending the Constitution, then that must be part of the conversation.

Means of protest

With Muslims mobilised in large numbers, scholars and activists have two crucial roles to play. The first is sensitisation and political education—connecting with people, helping them understand their history, and situating their experiences within a broader narrative of state power and marginalisation. Many have heard of massacres; those living near borders are familiar with citizenship disputes dating back to Partition; most have directly experienced executive excesses. This moment presents an opportunity to connect these fragments into a coherent political understanding through sustained engagement—at protests, sit-ins, and via door-to-door outreach.

The second task is to develop an effective plan of action that compels the state and political parties to respond. The means must remain peaceful, but they must also be effective. Road blockades have proven to be one such method. Shaheen Bagh demonstrated this power by choking a key Delhi-Noida route for over a month—something unprecedented elsewhere in the country. The next step is to create many more Shaheen Baghs, bringing the country to a halt in protest against a brazenly communal act and forcing public attention to Muslim anxieties.

The role of less endangered citizens

While NRC and NPR threaten all citizens, the CAA makes Muslims disproportionately vulnerable by explicitly excluding them from its promise of citizenship. Even if the process is not easy for others to navigate, the discriminatory intent cannot be dismissed. It constitutes a direct assault on Muslim citizenship.

In this context, we expect all secular citizens to treat this struggle as their own. The anti-CAA movement is not merely about minority rights; it is also about defending secular values in society. That responsibility falls especially on members of the majority community. However, solidarity cannot come with conditions. The terms of this struggle cannot be dictated to Muslims who are fighting for their citizenship while facing targeted hostility. Alliances must be based on mutual respect, dignity, and recognition of Muslim humanity—not on the imposition of a hollow constitutionalism or illusory secularism.

A meaningful contribution from other communities would be to mobilise within their own social spaces in support of the anti-CAA and NRC movement, strengthening the protests across regions and localities.

Opportunistic politics

The anti-CAA and NRC movement is not an electoral campaign. The BJP will remain in power for four more years under the Constitution itself. Muslims must therefore resist being drawn into electoral manoeuvring. This tension was visible at Shaheen Bagh, where political parties showed little interest during the early days of protest but arrived once international media attention grew, turning protest sites into platforms for campaigning.

Muslims must ensure that this movement is not hijacked for short-term electoral gains within a political system that has consistently failed to represent their genuine interests.

Constitution vs the spirit of the Constitution

Our resistance to state-sponsored hate and violence is rooted not merely in constitutional text but in its spirit. The distinction may appear abstract, but it is essential. Just as the human body may be impaired while the soul remains free, the Constitution too has a form that may be flawed, while its spirit—enshrined in the Preamble—endures.

Texts can change through amendments; the soul is timeless. Our arguments rest on this constitutional spirit rather than on every article of the document. For this reason, provisions such as Articles 44 and 48, restrictions under Article 19(2), the First-Past-the-Post electoral system, and the exclusion of delimitation from judicial review deserve serious re-examination. A broader debate and paradigm shift in state policy are long overdue.

The way forward

At a time when majoritarianism threatens to eclipse constitutional values, it is imperative to rebuild public faith in state institutions—the legislature, executive, and judiciary. These institutions must act in good faith and work to regain the trust of minorities. The executive, in particular, must take restorative measures. Ignoring these warning signs risks escalation. As an American slave song cautions: “God gave Noah the rainbow sign, no more water, the fire next time.”

The court has granted the government four weeks to respond. Whether it takes four weeks or four months, the struggle to defend the spirit of the Constitution will continue. There will be many Shaheen Baghs. People will continue to take to the streets, peacefully and persistently, until this obdurate government is forced to listen to legitimate concerns.

(The views expressed are those of the authors.)