By Mehr un Nisa
When a mosque is desecrated, liquor bottles are placed inside its prayer space and threats are issued in the name of religious supremacy, the incident goes far beyond a single crime scene. The attack on Mainama Jame Masjid in Tripura’s Dhalai district was not random vandalism but the result of a climate that has steadily legitimised hostility towards Muslims across India. The attempted arson, threatening note and Hindutva slogans indicate calculated intent rather than impulse. Such acts emerge from an ideological ecosystem in which Islamophobia has been normalised socially, politically and institutionally. These attacks are not random, they are sanctioned from the top, targeting faith, identity and dignity. The Tripura incident is a warning, when hatred is tolerated at the highest levels, places of worship become battlegrounds and Muslims remain exposed.
This environment was blatantly visible when Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath invoked Surah Al-Fatiha on the floor of the state Assembly, declaring that his political opponents would not be left “even fit for Fatiha to be read.” Al-Fatiha is not a metaphor. It is a sacred chapter of the Quran, recited daily in prayers and commonly read for the deceased. To weaponise it as a threat of annihilation is not political rhetoric, it is religious humiliation.
A sitting Chief Minister, occupying a constitutional office, deliberately used a minority religious practice to signal death, erasure and intimidation. This was not accidental phrasing. It was a conscious choice to draw imagery from Islam to threaten, degrade and dehumanise. When such language is used by a constitutional authority, it sends a clear message: Muslim faith can be mocked, instrumentalised and violated without consequence.
The Tripura Mosque attack fits squarely within this pattern. The attackers did not target a Hindu temple. There are no routine reports of mosques vandalising mandirs, burning idols, or placing offensive material inside Hindu places of worship. This is not because Muslims lack grievances or political awareness. It is because Islamic belief fundamentally prohibits the desecration of religious spaces. Respect for places of worship, regardless of faith, is rooted in Islamic ethics. Muslims are taught restraint, not provocation; dignity, not domination.
Yet the question persists why are Muslim religious spaces repeatedly attacked? Why are mosques burned, Quranic verses mocked and Islamic rituals dragged into threats and slurs? The answer lies in power asymmetry and ideological conditioning. Islamophobia has become socially permissible. Targeting Muslims no longer invites automatic condemnation; it invites justification, silence, or procedural delay.
The Tripura incident demonstrates this clearly. Despite the recovery of a threatening note, a Bajrang Dal flag and evidence of attempted arson, no decisive police action followed immediately. This administrative inertia reinforces a dangerous belief that intimidation of Muslims does not demand urgency. In contrast, even minor allegations involving Hindu religious sentiment often trigger immediate arrests, nationwide outrage and political mobilisation.
Islamophobia thrives on this imbalance. It thrives when Muslim pain is treated as routine, when attacks on mosques are framed as “law and order issues,” and when political leaders feel confident invoking Islamic rituals in threatening language without apology or accountability.
Legal experts have rightly pointed out that Yogi Adityanath’s remark violates both Article 21 and Article 25 of the Constitution. Threatening the denial of last rites strikes at dignity beyond death. When that threat is articulated through a minority religious practice, it becomes discriminatory by design. Such speech does not merely replicate prejudice, it institutionalises it.
What happened in Tripura is not an aberration; it is the ground-level manifestation of elite discourse. When Muslim religious symbols are publicly demeaned by those in power, it emboldens extremist groups to act on that hostility. Flags, threats, arson attempts and desecration follow words. Muslims are repeatedly asked to prove their patriotism, restraint and commitment to peace. Yet even when they respond with dignity, by filing complaints, appealing for justice and avoiding retaliation, their places of worship continue to be violated. This is not coexistence; it is enforced vulnerability.
Islamophobia in India today is not limited to prejudice, it is structural. It operates through selective outrage, uneven policing, political dog whistles and the repeated targeting of Muslim identity. Until this reality is acknowledged, attacks like the one in Tripura will continue and accountability will remain elusive.
A society that allows mosques to be burned and sacred verses to be weaponised in legislatures cannot claim moral neutrality. The question is no longer whether Islamophobia exists. The question is how long it will continue to be excused, defended, or ignored, until the damage becomes irreversible.
The author is the head of the research and human rights department of Kashmir Institute of International Relations (KIIR). She can be contacted at the following email address: mehr_dua@yahoo.com, X @MHHRsays