When the first list of the National Register of Citizens (NRC) was released in Assam in 2018, it excluded 4 million residents. They had to reapply to be included and submit their biometrics. That day, lawyer Aman Wadud got a call from a 77-year-old Bengali Hindu retired professor seeking help.
Wadud, 38, defends those Indians with long family histories in this country, who struggle to prove their citizenship in Assamâs quasi legal âForeigners Tribunalsâ.
It is largely thanks to people like Wadud that we first realised something deeply problematic was happening in the border state. When he helped release Moinal Molla after 2 years, 11 months and 29 days of detention, he posted an image of the frail book binder with the caption: âMoinal Mollaâs Long Walk to Freedomâ. âBy then I had read Nelson Mandela, and the post went viral,â he said.
He introduced a wider audience to a dystopian world where the most marginalised were labelled âBangladeshisâ or âD (doubtful) votersâ for the tiniest discrepancies in their carefully preserved identity documents; and âdetention centresâ where people were summarily taken after being declared âillegal migrantsâ, and where they stayed for years, estranged from families. In 2018, the Central government commissioned the countryâs largest 15.5 acre Matia âtransit campâ in Assam. It opened last year.
Peopleâs rights
Now, after a decade of fighting hundreds of citizenship cases pro bono, Wadud wants to âplay a bigger roleâ and fights all types of constitutional law cases. He has joined the Indian National Congress and was recently appointed joint convenor of the partyâs leadership development mission in Assam.
It all has to do with a thought that struck him when the professor called. Wadud told the gent that the countryâs top court had ratified the NRC process and that, if he was on the list, he had no option but to submit his biometrics. âThere was a pause, his voice choked, he broke down, saying âit hurts my dignity, I cannot submit my biometricsâ. He said this repeatedly and it made me think, in the 4-5 years I had been working for citizenship, no one had spoken about dignity.â
Wadud asked clients who had been released from detention centres how the ordeal had made them feel. They listed anger, despair, resignation. Some viewed it as a test from god. âThey didnât speak about the indignity they faced,â Wadud said. âThe professor had articulated his thoughts in a way I hadnât heard before.â
Thatâs around the time he began talking to people about how the state was violating their dignity. âItâs important to talk about constitutional rights to people, they are still very ignorant about their rights,â he added. Wadudâs ideology is best encapsulated in the one-pager that is our Preamble.
Foray into politics
Looking back at his own life, Wadud saw many points where his dignity had been attacked. Like the time a classmate in Guwahati called his teenage self a Bangladeshi. âIt was an expression of indignity, to show me Iâm not equal, I donât have the same rights as other students in that class. That Iâm different, even without committing any wrong,â he said. When he moved to Bengaluru in 2005 to study law, he spent a large chunk of his money in the cityâs bookstores, reading Nehru, Gandhi, Maulana Azad, Benjamin Franklin and Anne Frank.
At first, Wadud wanted to be a âbig shot lawyer like Kapil Sibal, Abhishek Manu Singhviâ. But the guilt that he was not doing anything to help people back home gnawed at him during his stint in the capital after he graduated from law school. âI realised I wasnât making a difference,â he said. âI wanted to be the voice of my people, change the narrative.â He did just that when he returned to Assam and put faces and stories to Indians who were being stripped of their citizenship.
When he switches on the TV, Wadud said, he watches the dignity of Assamâs Muslims eroding. âThe way elected functionaries address us is a perennial violation of our fundamental right to live with dignity. Not just detaining or accusing us as Bangladeshi, the entire discourse is very undignified,â he said.
Politics is a different struggle, one that requires financial heft and influence. âIn politics you need money and a godfather, both of which I donât have,â he said. âBut Iâm trying to make my presence felt through my work.â Wadud hopes to contest the 2026 State elections.
Every time he presents a case before the Foreigners Tribunal, a thought crosses his mind: âWhat if my classmate was a police officer? Then I would have been the one defending my citizenship.â
The author is a Bengaluru-based journalist and the co-founder of India Love Project on Instagram.