Qalam Times News Ntework
Patna, May 30: At long last, the day has arrived when those who sold their community’s conscience are being duly rewarded for their loyalty. The Bihar government has finally reconstituted the State Minority Commission—and in a move that has outraged many within the Muslim community, the most prominent reward has gone to Ghulam Rasool Balyawi. A devoted spokesperson for the ruling Janata Dal (United) and a sycophant at the political altar of Chief Minister Nitish Kumar, Balyawi has been appointed as the Chairman of the Minority Commission.
This appointment is being widely interpreted as a political payback for Balyawi’s conspicuous silence on the controversial Waqf Amendment Bill—a legislative act that has sparked widespread protest and dismay among Indian Muslims. Instead of voicing the community’s concerns, Balyawi chose complicity and courted favour from the very establishment accused of undermining Muslim interests.
Known for repeatedly betraying the sentiments of the Muslim electorate, Balyawi has long been criticized for commodifying religious identity into a vote bank. His most infamous act remains the shocking attempt to bestow upon Nitish Kumar—the architect of several anti-Muslim policies—the title “Imam-ul-Hind.” That very same leader has now rewarded him with a plum post in the name of minority welfare.
The community, particularly its youth, sees this as nothing less than a betrayal. Once hailed as spiritual healers of the wounded soul of the nation, certain clerics today appear to be rubbing salt into the community’s festering wounds. Balyawi’s active glorification of the regime—combined with his deafening silence on sensitive religious matters like Waqf—makes his moral bankruptcy all too evident. Power has blinded his conscience, and ambition has bent his knees.
His statements during election campaigns have stirred deep resentment. In one such rally, he brazenly declared: “The loyalty of Muslims to India will be proven only if they vote for Nitish Kumar.” What could be a greater betrayal of faith than reducing Islamic identity to allegiance with a political figure?
When faced with mass opposition to the Waqf Amendment Bill, Balyawi refused to criticize the government and instead urged Muslims to read the bill “with an open mind”—as if the community lacked understanding, and he alone was their benevolent interpreter. But the truth is clear: Balyawi has long functioned as a political agent rather than a religious representative.
This duplicity did not go unnoticed. In a recent rally in Katihar, angry youth hurled shoes and slippers at Balyawi—a spontaneous outburst that symbolized years of suppressed fury. This act was not an isolated incident but a signal of an emerging political awakening. It was a message: the community will no longer tolerate betrayal from within.
What is truly tragic is that the very person who once sought votes in the name of the community has now become a silent spectator to the systematic erosion of one of its most sacred institutions—Waqf. His appointment as Chairman is not a “fruit of patience” but a stab in the back of the very people he claims to represent.
Balyawi’s name now joins the ignoble ranks of historic traitors—like Ibn Ghaniya of Andalusia, Abu Abdullah of Granada, and Mir Sadiq of the Deccan. These were men who betrayed their people under the guise of leadership, serving instead as pawns of power. It is high time the Muslims of Bihar pulled the mask off such so-called leaders. The community must reject these emotional charlatans—political merchants wrapped in religious garb. What the community needs is principled leadership, not flattery; dignity, not submission; courage, not cowardice.
If we remain silent today, tomorrow our children will look upon the likes of Ghulam Rasool Balyawi as our representatives. And that will be the greatest tragedy for the Muslim community.
