Meer Faisal
On April 29, bulldozers rolled into the densely populated Muslim neighborhood of Danilimda in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, kicking off one of the most sweeping demolition drives in recent years. Over two phases, on April 29 and May 20 to 21, thousands of homes were razed under what authorities called an “anti-encroachment” initiative, supposedly aimed at clearing public land and restoring a historic water body.
But for the thousands displaced, mostly working-class Muslims, this was not a question of illegal encroachments. It was a brutal erasure. Homes, mosques, graveyards, and decades-old communities were destroyed, often without proper notice or rehabilitation.
Bulldozers, Raids, and the Loss of Home
Rafiq, a 40-year-old security guard, stood by the ruins of his home.
“My parents came here 45 years ago,” he said. “When officials arrived, they said they were removing ‘Bangladeshis.’ But we are legal residents. They gave us documentation years ago.”
What began with verbal promises quickly devolved into chaos. Families were told to pay ₹3 lakh and submit forms for new homes, but before the process began, the demolitions started.
Three days earlier, police conducted a late-night raid detaining nearly 900 people, including 214 minors. Authorities claimed they identified 143 undocumented immigrants, mostly Bangladeshi. But over 600 were released after proving Indian citizenship.
Ashraf Khan, whose family home was also destroyed, said, “There was no warning, no notice. They only demolished Muslim homes. Not the 200 Hindu homes nearby, not even their temple.”
He recalled being beaten by police when he pleaded to retrieve his belongings. “They told us they had orders from the top. It felt like they wanted to bury us in the rubble.”
Journalist Sahal Qureshi noted, “The media won’t report this. Over 600 of the detained were Indian citizens. Everyone wants development, but not at the cost of crushing the poor.”
Ahmedabad’s stark Muslim Ghettoisation
Ahmedabad has long been shaped by its vibrant culture, but also by painful chapters of division. One of the darkest moments came during the 2002 Gujarat riots, which followed the Godhra train burning. What began as a tragic incident quickly escalated into widespread violence, where over 1,000 people, mostly Muslims, lost their lives and many more were displaced. The scars of those days still linger.
Even today, tensions persist.
In 2025, Muslim worshippers in Vatva were attacked after evening prayers, and young Muslim students in Danilimda continue to face challenges, like being denied a public library despite repeated requests.
Meanwhile, laws like the Gujarat Disturbed Areas Act, though intended to prevent unrest, have instead deepened segregation by making it harder for Muslims to move into certain neighborhoods.
The “Bangladeshi” Label as a Weapon
Labeling Muslims as “Bangladeshi” has become a recurring tactic to justify demolition and displacement. Bashir Sheikh Allahdin, a resident since 1974, was furious.
“There are no Bangladeshis here,” he said, showing his documents. “They just want this land for development, maybe a stadium or a park. We are the scapegoats.”
The targeting of Muslims under the pretense of national security and urban renewal echoes a broader shift in India’s citizenship framework. Though India’s laws were once largely religion-neutral, the 2019 Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) marked a turning point. By fast-tracking citizenship for non-Muslim refugees from neighboring countries and excluding Muslims, the law laid the groundwork for selective legal status.
In Assam, for example, the National Register of Citizens (NRC) excluded nearly 2 million residents, including 500,000 Muslims, many now trapped in legal limbo. The BJP-led state government has since proposed deporting “illegal immigrants,” reinforcing a dangerous binary of “rightful citizens” versus “infiltrators.” In this climate, being called a “Bangladeshi” carries devastating consequences.
“These narratives are not accidental,” said a legal advocate working on rehabilitation efforts. “They are calculated, and they serve the project of a Hindu-first nation.”
Demolition as a Political and Economic Tool
While the Indian state claims security and legality as the basis for these actions, many analysts argue the demolitions serve a larger ideological and economic purpose.
What is unfolding in India mirrors settler colonial practices seen globally, from Israel’s clearance of Palestinian homes to France’s bulldozing of Algerian communities. But unlike settler states that expand into new lands, Hindu supremacists in India displace Muslims not for survival but for dominance and expansion.
“They already have land,” said one activist. “This is not about necessity. It is about hatred, control, and profit.”
Indeed, demolition has become a business. Bulldozer manufacturers, transportation companies, and real estate developers all profit. “Even in their hatred,” the activist added, “they are calculative enough to squeeze out profits.”
Crushed Faith and Disregarded Rights
Rukhsar Mohisin, a young resident, broke down describing the destruction of three mosques, including the funeral space used to wash the dead.
“They buried Qurans under the rubble. They told us they came for Bengalis. But we are Indian. Where is our place now?”
She now lives outdoors, surrounded by mosquitoes, without clean water or medical aid.
Residents appealed to the Gujarat High Court, citing constitutional rights and due process. The petitions were dismissed, with judges citing a 2024 Supreme Court ruling that unauthorized structures on public land, especially water bodies, cannot be protected.
State officials defended the demolitions. Gujarat’s Advocate General called the area a “hub for illegal activities,” while police reported over 7,000 people were “identified” and 1,000 power connections cut. The Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation plans to develop the cleared land into a public park.
A Future Without Shelter
For the displaced, development means little without a home.
Ashraf Khan said, “We want to educate our children, build a better life. But now we don’t even have a roof.”
Rukhsar echoed, “We have only Allah now.”
The question remains, where will India’s 200 million Muslims go if the state continues to criminalize their very existence?
As the bulldozers move on, the rubble left behind is not just of homes, but of trust, belonging, and a nation’s promise to protect all its people.
Meer Faisal is an independent multimedia journalist based in New Delhi. He covers human rights, politics and religious violence in India.
