Bigger changes: The larger symbolism of Lachit Borphukan

 The belief that history or, more accurately, the writing of history stands still and is cast in stone is both naïve and untenable. As much as historians may debunk the temptation of reading the past in the light of the present, the reality is that each generation reshapes history in the light of contemporary perspectives. This is as much true of antiquity as it is of relatively more recent developments. 

India is a land where the past is constantly being reviewed. A recent circular by the University Grants Commission, advising institutions of higher learning to observe Constitution Day as an occasion when India reclaimed its democratic heritage dating back to the janapadas, occasioned many snide comments from historians who seem loath to allow amateurs, not to speak of politicians, intruding into their turf. Antiquity apart, the advent of the Narendra Modi government in 2014 has witnessed significant changes in the projection of India’s national movement. The elevation of Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose to new heights — including the installation of his statue in the canopy overlooking Delhi’s iconic India Gate — was calculated to suggest that the freedom struggle had multiple strands and was far richer than the overemphasis by earlier Congress governments on Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru. Likewise, the deification of Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel — including the creation of the world’s tallest statue in Gujarat — was aimed at suggesting that post-Independence India was offered alternative routes of development in 1947 which, unhappily, were not pursued.

It is in this context that the grand celebrations to commemorate the 400th birth anniversary of Lachit Borphukan may be viewed. This Assamese general of the Ahom kingdom won a famous victory over the advancing Mughal army of Emperor Aurangzeb in the naval battle of Saraighat in 1671. Although the history of the Ahom kingdom, which lasted until the British conquest in 1826, is replete with both victories and defeats against invading foreign armies, the battle of Saraighat and its architect, Lachit Borphukan, occupy a key place in Assam’s collective consciousness, so much so that a separatist group opted to name its militia Veer Lachit Sena. Lachit Borphukan, the 15th-16th  century religious and literary figure, Srimanta Sankardev, and the 20th-century nationalist leader and Assam’s first chief minister, Gopinath Bordoloi, constitute the three icons on whom modern Assamese identity is based. 

Yet, it is unfortunate that all the three names resonate only in Assam or, at best, in the Northeast. Their importance in the making of India is scarcely appreciated in the rest of India. Lachit Borphukan was a contemporary of Chhatrapati Shivaji and his victory in Saraighat initiated a process of resistance that, with numerous ups and downs, culminated in the final ouster of the Mughals from the Ahom kingdom in 1682. However, while independent India has honoured Shivaji far beyond Maharashtra, Lachit Borphukan’s stellar role in the national resistance to the Mughals is known only in Assam. Some modest progress was made in 1999 when the National Defence Academy in Pune instituted a gold medal in his name that is awarded each year to the best cadet. But overall, Lachit Borphukan has suffered from the condescension of historians who have written their own version of Empire history of the Mughals. This week, to complement the celebrations in Assam, there will be events in Delhi, to be attended by both Prime Minister Narendra Modi and the home minister, Amit Shah, to showcase Lachit Borphukan to a national audience.

The chief minister of Assam, Himanta Biswa Sarma, who has taken the lead in organising the 400th anniversary celebrations, was quite explicit in stating its larger purpose. “For long, Indian history has been about the conquests and glory of the Mughals as if they were the rulers of entire India. They could not conquer the Northeast or vast areas of southern India. We are celebrating Lachit Borphukan’s anniversary in Delhi so that the world gets to know that there were many heroes and kingdoms who defeated the Mughals.”

The trend may well be gathering momentum. In central India, the local folk memory of Rani Durgavati of the Gondwana kingdom who played a heroic role in resisting the advance of Akbar’s armies is being elevated to the status of formal history. Jabalpur University has already been renamed after her. Additionally, there is a concerted move to ensure that heroic and inspirational figures from history belonging to subaltern communities are given due recognition in the pages of history books. Like the bid to delineate the linkages between Kashi (Varanasi) and Tamil civilisation, there is an unending endeavour by the Modi government to enlarge the scope of history and use it to promote the idea of India’s civilisational unity.

In the case of Lachit Borphukan, there is an additional dimension. For very long, Assam and the northeastern states have experienced both a political and emotional detachment from national politics. This, coupled with the lack of sufficient understanding of the historical specificities of each region, was a principal factor behind the spate of insurgencies that affected nearly all the states. The mollycoddling of corruption as a way of co-opting local elites also took a huge toll, as did the indifference to investments in infrastructure, allegedly for ‘strategic’ reasons. 

Since assuming office, the Modi government has been in a rush to make up the infrastructure deficit and ensure the Northeast’s connectivity with the rest of India. Additionally, India’s Look East foreign policy and better relations with Bangladesh and Myanmar could yield instant results, especially if Chittagong port opens up to the India trade. Most important, however, the decision to earmark at least 10% of Central spending for the Northeast is a game-changer for a region that has always felt shortchanged. Finally, in political terms, the growing importance of Assam and the Northeast in the ecosystem of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party marks a new beginning for the region. 

There has been a mood shift in Assam and in the Northeast that is visible to all. The Lachit Borphukan celebrations are more than symbolic precisely because it takes place on the back of a larger transformation.

Swapan Dasgupta

Source: The Telegraph, 24/11/22

IIM Bangalore joins hands with Assam Govt to launch CM’s Young Professional Programme

 

It will be a blend of academic and district-based work with a staggered academic program spanning 40 days in Guwahati (i.e. off-campus programme).

The Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore (IIM Bangalore) today signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) with the Government of Assam to jointly operate the ‘Chief Minister’s Young Professional Programme’ (CMYPP).

The Chief Minister’s Young Professional Programme has been designed by IIM Bangalore and anchored by the school’s Office of Executive Education Programmes. This programme is meant for early career individuals with a post-graduate degree in any field and willing to work in the district. It will be a blend of academic and district-based work with a staggered academic program spanning 40 days in Guwahati (i.e. off-campus programme).The first batch of CMYPP will see more than 65 professionals being recruited jointly by the Assam Government and IIM Bangalore. Upon successful completion of the two-year programme, the participants will be awarded a certificate in public policy and management by IIM Bangalore.

Further details regarding the application process and remuneration will soon be announced in the coming weeks. The details will be available at the official IIM Bangalore website — iimb.ac.in.

‘This is a unique initiative where highly skilled people will get an opportunity to contribute at the grassroots level as well as gain academic expertise from a prestigious institute like IIM Bangalore. Endeavours such as these will open the doors of the government to talented people. More detailed announcements relating to this programme will be made shortly. My thanks to the team of IIM Bangalore for partnering with us,” Chief Minister of Assam, Himanta Biswa Sarma, said.

Edited by Deeksha Teri

Source: Indian Express, 14/11/22

Assam’s Muslims: why some have been declared ‘indigenous’ and some left out

 Last week, the Assam Cabinet approved the identification of five Assamese Muslim sub-groups — Goriya, Moriya, Julha, Deshi, and Syed — as “indigenous” Assamese Muslim communities. This effectively sets them apart from Bengali-speaking Muslims, who — or whose ancestors — had migrated at various points of time the region that was once East Bengal, and later became East Pakistan and now Bangladesh.

How many Muslim groups live in Assam?

While many sub-groups exist, this aspect of population dynamics is best understood by looking at Muslims of Assam as belonging to two broad categories. Muslims outside these two categories would account for very small numbers relative to Assam’s large Muslim population. The larger of these two categories comprises Muslims who speak Bengali, or whose roots lie in Bengal, and who settled in Assam at various times after undivided Assam was annexed to British India in 1826. These Muslims are often referred to as Miyas.

The numerically smaller broad category comprises the “Assamese Muslims”, who speak Assamese as their mother tongue, and who trace their ancestries in Assam back to the Ahom kingdom (1228-1826). By and large, they see themselves as part of the larger Assamese-speaking community, together with Assamese Hindus, and many of them are very conscious about being distinct from Bengal-origin Muslims.

“Assam has a significant Muslim population. Within that, there is a section that has migrated to Assam at different points of time. However, there are certain Muslim groups, too, who are native to the state, and have long agitated to safeguard their cultural identity. We have recognised their struggle, and identified these groups as ‘indigenous’ or khilonjiya Assamese Muslims,” Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma said following the Cabinet decision.

And what are these groups?

These are described in the report of a sub-committee on ‘Cultural identity of indigenous Assamese Muslims’ constituted by the state government in July last year. It was on the basis of the report of this committee, headed by journalist and commentator Wasbir Hussain, that the Cabinet took its decision on the five sub-groups.

DESHI: Believed to be among the first batch of people in Assam to have embraced Islam, Deshis trace their lineage to Ali Mech, a Koch-Rajbongshi chieftain who converted to Islam during the invasion of Bakhtiyar Khilji around 1205 AD.

SYED: Sufi preachers settled in Assam at various times, the earliest by some accounts being Syed Badiuddin Shah Mada (Madan Pir) in 1497, and the best known being Syed Moinuddin Baghdadi (Azaan Pir or Azaan Fakir) around 1630. The Syed community comprises descendants of their followers.

GORIYA: In a series of attempted invasions by the Mughals between 1615 and 1682, the Ahom regime took several soldiers prisoner. Many of these belonged to Gaur in ancient Bengal, and hence got the name Goriya. “These people settled in Assam and married local women and gradually became a part of the Assamese society,” the report says. It also mentions tribals/Hindus who converted to Islam during Azaan Pir’s time; they too became subsequently known as Goriya.

MORIYA: These too are descendants of prisoners of war, captured by the Ahoms after an attempted invasion by Turbak Khan in the 16th century. They “took to working in brass, an occupation which their descendants, who are known as Moriyas, carry on to this day”, the British historian Edward Gait wrote in 1933 (A History of Assam).

JULHA: A small community, originally from undivided Bihar, Odisha and West Bengal, and believed to be converts from Adivasis. They migrated to Assam in two phases: as weavers during the Ahom regime, and as tea garden workers brought by British tea planters in the 19th century. Julha is listed as an MOBC community in Assam.

Prominent Assamese Muslims through history include the navy general Bagh Hazarika who fought under the Ahom general Lachit Borphukan against Mughal invaders in 1671; Sir Syed Muhammad Saadulla, Assam’s first prime minister during colonial rule; the 20th-century poet Syed Abdul Malik; and India’s late President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed.

What are their numbers?

The census of 2011 counted 1.06 crore Muslims (34%) in Assam out of a population of 3.12 crore, but does not record a break-up by ethnicity. The sub-committee report to the Assam government puts the current Muslim population at 1.18 crore, out of which it estimates the five “indigenous” groups at 42 lakh. That implies that out of every 3 Muslims in Assam, 1 is “indigenous”. Of these 42 lakh, the report estimates the Deshis at 20 lakh, and the Moriyas at 2 lakh.

So, who are not “indigenous” as per the report?

The omission of the Bengali-origin Muslims, or Miyas, is apparent. But the definition also leaves out at least one Muslim group with a long history in Assam. In south Assam’s Barak Valley, dominated by Bengali-speaking Hindus and Muslims, there is also a group called Kachari Muslims, who trace their origins to the Kachari kingdom (13th century to 1832). They consider themselves distinct from the Muslims who migrated from East Bengal.

Atiqur Rahman Barbhuyan, president, Society for Indigenous Muslims of Barak Valley, called the Cabinet decision a “great injustice” to the Muslims of Barak Valley. “Our ancestry is not of migrant origin. Our history goes back to the 1600s,” he said, adding that he had made a presentation to the committee before it filed its report.

What is the point of this exercise?

The demand came from within the community itself. In a state whose history and politics have been shaped by migration, some Assamese-speaking groups and individuals have long sought to be identified as distinct from the Bengali-speaking Muslims.

Assamese Muslims “are bracketed as Muslims, along with the Bengali-speaking Muslims”, the report says, citing “…the lack of a separate identity bestowed upon the Assamese Muslims”.

Apart from recognition as indigenous, the report recommends greater political representation including reservation of a Rajya Sabha seat, reservation in jobs, and various measures for preservation of Assam Muslim culture.

How do Muslim groups feel about it?

The All Assam Goriya-Moriya Deshi Parishad welcomed the move. Its president Hafizul Ahmed said Assamese Muslims were “losing their identity” because they were often clubbed with the “Bengali Muslim migrant community”. “Since we have similar sounding names, it is easy to confuse us but our culture and history is very different,” he said.

Others are concerned that the move would lead to further marginalisation of Bengali-origin Muslims. AIUDF MLA Aminul Islam earlier told The Indian Express that the panel’s proposals were part of a “political rhetoric” to “isolate Bengali Muslims further”.

Yasmin Saikia, professor of history and endowed chair in peace studies at Arizona State University described the move as “shortsighted”. “To me, as an Assamese humanist, it is very sad. The labels given to various Muslims are a strategy to divide the Muslim community,” she said. “If the aim of this move was to improve the socio-economic status of Muslims in Assam, why neglect a chunk of them? Identifying a tiny group within a group, giving them identity cards and certificates is unlikely to serve any purpose. In fact, it will lead to more vulnerability, greater socio-economic problems, and more antisocial elements,” she said.

Written by Kabir Firaque , Tora Agarwala

Source: Indian Express, 13/07/22

Assam floods: Diary from a deluge

 Night was falling on the skyline of Silchar. The mighty Barak had by then made its detour through the second-largest urban conglomeration of Assam. Turbid waters were gushing through the breached portion of an important embankment. Three-fourths of the 27 square-kilometre landmass that makes Silchar had been completely submerged. The Barak was flowing with gusto at more than 1.5 meters above the danger level. And waters were rising thick and fast to make things even more horrific in the engulfing doom and despair.

In the heart of the town, euphemistically known as the “posh” enclave, where the real estate prices are perhaps some of the highest in the country, 18 families including ours were huddled in a five-storey housing complex to see before our disbelieving eyes how ravaging the river could be. But the day started on an otherwise normal note for us, even as reports of waters sneaking into the low-lying areas of the town had been pouring in since the previous evening. There were incessant rains over the past few days. Old-timers of the town were trying to recall if they had ever experienced downpours of such lethal intensity in the Barak Valley.

Weather offices confirmed that Assam and Meghalaya had by then recorded the highest June rainfall in 121 years with 858.1 mm, breaking the earlier record of 789.5 mm in 1966. Not to miss the matter of fact statistics, flash flood had lashed Silchar in 1966 as well. To put things in perspective, the government initiative to build embankments along the Barak to save Silchar from frequent floods was first seen in the aftermath of the devastating inundation of 1966. Various dykes along the town-side of the course of the river continued to be constructed in intervals from the Sixties till the Eighties.

The entire Barak Valley in general and its headquarters, Silchar, have always been vulnerable to recurring floods due to the Barak going in spate resulting from heavy rains upstream, around Manipur and Mizoram. The recorded history provides information on the mammoth flooding in 1916, 1929, 1966, 1985, 1986, 1989, 1990, 1991 and 2004. On other occasions too, the Valley went through minor floods. Partial accounts of the deluge of 1929 are available in two important individual memoirs. Both from the Silcharer Kadcha (Silchar Diary) by Kaliprasanna Bhattacharjee (ed. Amitabha Dev Choudhury, 2008) and a report on the great floods of 1929 by Sundari Mohan Das, published in the renowned Bengali periodical from the then Calcutta, Prabasi, edited by Ramananda Chatterjee in the same year, we come to know of the degree of devastation caused by the river systems of the Barak-Surma twin Valley. The similarity between the two great floods, separated by seven-years-less-than-a-century, mainly lies in the fact that both the Surma and the Kushiyara rivers in Sylhet were equally in spate as the Barak. Also, both the natural disasters happened in June. Some archival photographs reproduced in the memoirs by Bhattacharjee along with his narration tell us how waters were flowing at the first-storey height along the Central Road of Silchar. There are ghastly stories of corpses floating on the water. There was death, squalor and devastation all along. That was 1929. That was India under British rule. That was the time when the Barak had no dykes to stop surging waters

But more than nine decades on, in the third week of June 2022, we, the residents of a middle-class housing society, were experiencing a chill down the spine when waters were inching up, one after another of the staircase leading up to the first floor of the building. The ground floor of our housing complex, Sukumari Apartment, a 15-year-old building located in the lane that ends at the south Assam headquarters of the indomitable Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, was already submerged. Marauding waters had filled the lift shaft of the building and five steps of the staircase went under the water. The central power panel of the housing society was just four inches above the water level. The whole area had plunged into darkness as the APDCL office had disconnected supply fearing short circuits.

That was the beginning of the travail for survival for us, like at least four lakh other Silcharites. The town, which started municipal administration as far back as 1882, and which was recently declared as a municipal corporation by the Government of Assam, saw the fury of nature at its worst. The people of the town were yet to recover from the fear and losses inflicted by the first round of floods just a month back. Communication and connectivity systems went haywire. The May floods from torrential rains and the resultant heavy landslides in the Dima Hasao district had already thrown life out of gear. Rail communication in the Lumding-Badarpur section of the North East Frontier Railway remained snapped since the May mayhem. Severe landslides on the national highway in Meghalaya closed the surface transport as well. When the Valley was under siege and its hapless dwellers in a beleaguered spot, in came the second round of floods.

The stock of water in the overhead tank of our building was fast depleting. Inverter batteries were being dried in the flats. Mobile towers were not working. Internet connectivity got a beating as there was no power to supply electricity to the modems. The middle-class has long forgotten the use of lanterns and candles. Kerosene is no more a lighting fuel. Nights in the marooned Silchar were getting asphyxiating. With the sky loaded with dark and heavy clouds overhead, the meteorological department forecasting more rains and babbling waters underneath, we were hearing stories about people getting drowned. With an uncanny resemblance to the anecdotes of 1929, we saw the visuals of abandoned dead bodies looking for a piece of dry land.

The government machinery got activated to look for the “miscreants” who had dug the dyke. A credible segment of the local media reported that a canal had been cut through the embankment on May 22, in the aftermath of the first round of floods to allow the stagnant waters in the Mahisha Beel (a natural reservoir where the town canals offload their water flow back to the river as there was no sluice gate to do so). That the locals had breached the dyke was no state secret. It was already in the public domain and the line agencies were very much in the loop. The good 20-odd days in the interregnum could easily be used to refill the canal and mend the dyke. But that was not to be. Those who pierced the protection of the town and those who almost oversaw the deed were equally convinced that the problem of regular inundation of the catchment area had a solution. The ruling political class in the district knew of the development. And none of them, it appears, had any idea as to what was in store for Silchar. But the disaster was a “manmade one”, they began to say, when the deluge set in.

The name of an otherwise obscure location — “Bethukandi” where the dyke had been breached — suddenly became a global cynosure as the people who did the damage to the dyke and the majority of the townsfolk swept by the floods belong to two different communities. Flood waters will recede, life will reboot losses and pains will remain mere accounts in the annals of history. But elections will surely arrive. And, unfortunately, they will usher in a new tagline — flood jihad. Hopefully, the state that failed to guard the river will succeed in saving the social fabric.

Written by Joydeep Biswas

Source: Indian Express, 11/07/22

Behind the unprecedented pre-monsoon devastation in Assam

 

While the monsoons are yet to arrive, Assam has already been beset by floods and landslides that have left 15 people dead and more than 7 lakh affected.

The monsoons bring destruction to Assam like a clockwork almost every year. However, this year, while the monsoons are yet to arrive, the state has already been beset by floods and landslides that have left 15 people dead and more than 7 lakh affected. The hill district of Dima Hasao, in particular, has been ravaged by flash floods and landslides, with connectivity to the rest of the state snapped.

What is behind this unprecedented devastation?

Experts point out that there are a combination of factors. First, extraordinarily acute pre-monsoon rains. While the average rainfall for the period of March 1 to May 20 in Assam is 434.5 mm, the corresponding number for this year is 719 mm. That amounts to a 65 per cent excess. That is a “large excess”, according to the Indian Meteorological Department. The neighbouring state of Meghalaya has recorded an even greater excess: of 137 per cent.

“Normally we have rains coming in June and July when we experience big floods,” said Dr DC Goswami, an eminent environmentalist and a retired professor of hydrology from the Gauhati University. “This time it has come with a bang. The difference is the timing and scale.” Goswami attributed the changes in “rainfall intensity, arrival and departure times” to climate change.

Partha Jyoti Das, who heads the Water, Climate and Hazard Division of the Guwahati-based environment non-profit Aaranyak, concurred. “Because of climate change, there are more and more concentrated rain and heavy rainfall episodes,” said Das.

He added that it was even more worrisome since the southwest monsoons were expected early (end May) in the northeast region this year. “There may be little respite between the recession of this pre-monsooBut it is not just floods that have wreaked destruction. There have been several episodes of landslides, especially in south Assam’s Dima Hasao and Cachar districts. At least three people have been buried alive in Dima Hasao’s Haflong. In a particularly horrific incident, mudslides washed away a portion of the rail tracks that connect the south of Assam with the rest of the country. The New Haflong railway station was also severely damaged with bogeys of a train at the station overturning under the force of landslide-induced debris. Portions of the road connecting Guwahati to Dima Hasao, and beyond to Barak Valley districts, have caved in.nal flood and the advent of the first monsoonal flood surge, especially in Assam,” he said.

But what is causing these landslides?

Das said that while landslides in that part of the state are not unheard of, the scale and the intensity was higher than usual. Das blamed this on the “undesirable, unpragmatic, unplanned structural intervention on the fragile landscape of hills”.

A case in point is the Lumding-Badarpur railway line. The affected railway line that connects Lumding in central Assam to Badarpur in south Assam and passes through the hill district of Dima Hasao was expanded into a broad gauge in 2015. The expansion work of this much-delayed project had begun in 1997, but the tricky landscape meant progress was woefully slow. Besides, the expansion project was marred by several red flags and even after its  inauguration, there have been accusations about it having flouted safety norms.  The current spate of landslides have affected the line in at least 58 spots, said railways officials. The trains in that section stand cancelled till July 1.

Das said that the damage to the line suggested what many had been pointing out for years: that corners may have been cut in carrying out the construction.

Apart from the railway line itself, residents of Dima Hasao say that the district has seen hectic construction, both of public infrastructure like roads and private property, in recent times. “Over the years, there has not only been massive deforestation for the extension of the railway line and the four-line highway, there has also been rampant riverbed mining often done in collusion with the district authorities,” said Uttam Bathari, a historian and professor at Gauhati University, who hails from Haflong.

Also, allegations abound of roads being built over streams and spring water sources – the reason, many say, so many roads have caved in.

Mirza Zulfiqur Rahman, an independent researcher based in Guwahati, said similar hastily carried out infrastructure developmental work in Arunachal Pradesh had led to an increase in landslides in the state in recent years. This month itself, five people have been killed. “Construction is sped up in the name of national security in Arunachal and improving connectivity elsewhere in Northeast India,” alleged Rahman.

Das of Aaranyak said that construction needed to be “tuned to the ecological fragility of the region”.

Goswami also spoke of “conscious construction” and an “integrated holistic approach across state boundaries”.

Rahman suggested keeping “traditional knowledge systems in mind” and involving  the local community to build “sustainable infrastructure”. “As long as it is top-down it will depend on the masculinist engineering bureaucracies,” he said.

Blaming climate change for everything was not enough, said Rahman. “We have to look back at the mess we have created on the ground level in combination with climate change to account for such disasters.”

Written by Tora Agarwala

Source: Indian Express, 21/05/22

What the Assam Accord of 1985 said about immigrants

 In the late 1970s, an extraordinary student movement had taken root in Assamese soil. The Mangaldoi constituency, which was voting in a bypoll after the death of its MP Hiralal Patwari, was under the spotlight. The seat, with a very high concentration of immigrants from East Bengal, drew national attention due to a sudden rise in the number of voters compared to the previous election two years earlier. Even as reports suggested a large-scale immigration from Bangladesh into the state, on June 8, 1979, the All Assam Students Union went on a 12-hour general strike demanding the ‘detention, disenfranchisement and deportation’ of all foreigners. What followed in the next few months and years was a spree of protest movements, several rounds of negotiations with the government and ultimately the signing of the Assam accord in 1985 that listed down a number of measures to be taken for the state to deal with the issue of immigration.

It has taken 33 years for this crucial piece of the Assam Accord to finally fall into place. On Monday, when the final draft of the National Register of Citizens was released, close to 40 lakh residents of Assam were disappointed to find their names missing from the list. With the Opposition, especially West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee slamming the move, BJP president Amit Shah reminded everyone that the accord was signed in 1985 under the Rajiv Gandhi-led Congress government. “Rajiv Gandhi signed the Assam Accord in 1985, which was similar to NRC. They did not have the courage to implement it, we did,” he said in the Rajya Sabha on Tuesday.

What was the Assam movement?

The issue of immigration had rankled ethnic relations in Assam since the years preceding Independence. American political scientist Myron Weiner, carrying out a census study in Assam, had noted – based on the projection of the 1891 census – that immigrants and their descendants would then number 8.5 million as opposed to locals and their descendants at 6.5 million. However, after free India was born the issue was brushed under the carpet until 1979, when the Assam movement began. What kept the immigration issue at bay was the centrality of language issue in defining the boundaries of ethnic conflicts for a long time.

While the immigration issue did come up once in a while, it was only in 1979 that it shook the state, defining the contours of ethnic and religious relations for years to come. “It ruptured carefully nurtured ethnic coalitions that were at the foundation of political stability in the state, setting the stage for a prolonged period of political turmoil,” writes political scientist Sanjib Baruah in his article ‘Immigration, ethnic conflict and political turmoil- Assam 1979-1985’.

The 12-hour strike of June 8 was soon followed by the formation of the Assam Gana Sangam Parishad (AGSP) for conducting a coordinated statewide movement.

“An unprecedented mass popular upsurge followed in the form of sit-ins, picketings in front of government offices, strikes, and symbolic disobedience of the law,” writes Baruah.

Between 1980 and 1982, close to 23 rounds of negotiations took place between the movement’s leaders and the central government. Even though the Assam movement had sufficient support, there were many against it as well, considering the size of the immigrant population in Assam and the political cost of agreeing to the demands of the movement.

By the end of 1982, however, an agreement was reached between the Centre and the movement’s leaders that all those who made it within the Indian borders between 1951 and 1961 would be given citizenship status, while those who came after 1971 would be deported. But the status of those who entered between 1961 and 1971 was not resolved.

Also, there was no agreement on the procedures to be used in order to conclude the status of a resident. In the meantime, the movement had gained sufficient momentum to be able to disrupt the functioning of the government including the 1980 parliamentary elections, and the Assembly elections of 1983.

Negotiations between the movement’s leaders and the central government were once again initiated in 1984. By this time the Janata Party was no longer in power, and the government lay in the hands of Rajiv Gandhi. Consequently, an accord was signed on August 15, 1985, according to which, all illegal aliens who entered the state between January 1966 and March 1971 would be disenfranchised for 10 years, and those who came after March 1971 would be deported. Once the accord was signed, the state government was dissolved as fresh elections were held based on revised electoral rolls in December 1985.

What is the Assam Accord?

The Assam Accord of 1985 began with the assurance that the “government has all along been most anxious to find a satisfactory resolution to the problem of foreigners in Assam.” Consequently, it put together a list of resolutions to be implemented in order to solve the immigration issue in Assam.

As per the accord, all people who came to Assam prior to January 1, 1966, would be given citizenship. Those who moved in between January 1, 1966, and March 24, 1971, would be “detected in accordance with the provisions of the Foreigners Act, 1946 and the Foreigners (Tribunals) Order 1964”. Their names would be deleted from the electoral rolls and they would remain disenfranchised for a period of 10 years. Lastly, the accord provided a resolution to the case of those who entered Indian borders after March 24, 1971.

“Foreigners who came to Assam on or after March 25, 1971, shall continue to be detected, deleted and practical steps shall be taken to expel such foreigners,” said the accord.

The signing of the accord ensured that the agitation came to an end. However, several clauses mentioned in it are yet to be implemented, and that in turn has kept the issue burning along ethnic, religious and geographical lines for the last three decades.

Source: Indian Express, 2/08/2018

Defining who is ‘Assamese’: attempts, challenges

 Last week, the Assam government informed the Assembly that nearly 1.44 lakh foreigners had been identified in the state until January 31 this year based on the 1985 Assam Accord, and around 30,000 of them had been deported. It added that definitions of phrases mentioned in the Accord such as ‘Axomiya janagan’ (Assamese people), ‘khilonjia’ (indigenous) and ‘adi basinda’ (original inhabitants) were yet to be determined.

Who is a foreigner under the Accord?

The Assam Accord was signed in 1985 by the Centre and the Assam government with the All Assam Student Union and the All Assam Gana Sangram Parishad, which had spearheaded the 1979-85 Assam Movement against migration from Bangladesh. It set March 24, 1971 as a cut-off. Anyone who had come to Assam before midnight on that date would be an Indian citizen, while those who had come after would be dealt with as foreigners. The same cut-off was used in updating the National Register of Citizens (NRC).

Why is it important to define ‘Assamese people’?

Clause 6 of the Assam Accord promises “constitutional, legislative and administrative safeguards to protect, preserve and promote the cultural, social, linguistic identity and heritage of the Assamese people. Clause 6 is important because many felt the 1971 cut-off was inadequate to address the impact of migration. It is seen as a provision that would guarantee certain benefits to the Assamese people to compensate for the 1971 cut-off.

Why is the definition difficult?

Dr Kaustubh Deka, from the political science faculty at Dibrugarh University, pointed out that ‘Axomiya’ or ‘Assamese’ is a contested term and there is no specific universal definition. Many feel people whose ancestors were living in Assam before 1826, when Assam was merged with British India, are Axomiya. Others feel ‘Axomiya’ include residents of Assam before 1951, when the first NRC was drawn up. Still others feel anyone speaking any indigenous language is an Axomiya, and many are in favour of extending the definition to include Bengali-speaking residents of Barak Valley, where Bengali is the local language.

Have any definitions been proposed?

Over the years, several committees have been set up to determine a definition, but none adopted. In 2015, then Assembly Speaker Pranab Kumar Gogoi prepared a report proposing that ‘Assamese people’ mean anyone belonging to the state, speaking the Assamese language or any tribal dialect of the state, or local language of the region in the case of Cachar district and adjoining areas (Barak Valley), and families living in Assam since 1951 or earlier.

Another key committee came in 2019, when Assam was rocked by protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA). The government set up the committee to quell the protests. According to its recommendations in 2020, all citizens who are part of the Assamese community, any person of indigenous tribal community of Assam, any other indigenous community of Assam, all other citizens of India residing in the territory or Assam on or before January 1, 1951 and descendants of these categories would be considered Assamese. No movement has happened on this.

According to this committee’s recommendations, all citizens who are part of the Assamese community, any person of indigenous tribal community of Assam, any other indigenous community of Assam, all other citizens of India residing in the territory or Assam on or before January 1, 1951 and descendants of these categories would be considered Assamese. In essence, this definition includes not only the indigenous people but also all other Indian citizens, irrespective of mother tongue, as long as their ancestor

What are the other terms for which no definition has been finalised?

Khilonjia refers to indigenous communities. The question is who would be considered indigenous; some are in favour of communities living in Assam before the 1826 annexation with British India. Adi basinda, also undefined, is generally used to describe tribes who have lived for several generations in Assam.s were staying in Assam before 1951.

Written by Debraj Deb

Source: Indian Express, 22/03/22

Time to bid goodbye to AFSPA

 

It’s only prudent to repeal this Act now. Study its record to strengthen the foundation of Indian democracy

As far back as 1776, Adam Smith in The Wealth of Nations reflected on the harmful effects of laws that “often continue in force long after the end of the circumstances that first gave rise to them and once made them reasonable”. In that passage, however, Smith didn’t consider laws that were not reasonable even in the circumstances in which they were made.

The Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) is one such law. Since the full force of this onerous law comes into play only in “disturbed areas”, one must welcome the government’s announcement to reduce the number of such areas. But not to consider the repeal of this anachronistic law, which is now almost as old as the Republic, is a missed opportunity to reflect on why this law has or has not been successful, and to learn from this history and strengthen the foundation of our democracy.

AFSPA allows civilian authorities to call on the armed forces to come to the assistance of civil powers. Once a state — or a part of a state — is declared “disturbed” under this law, the armed forces can make preventive arrests, search premises without warrants, and even shoot and kill civilians. Legal action against those abusing these powers requires the prior approval of the central government — a feature that functions as de facto immunity from prosecution.

A disturbed area proclamation under AFSPA has uncanny similarities with emergencies or states of exception — including martial law and states of siege. Critics charge that it effectively suspends fundamental freedoms and creates a de facto emergency regime.

AFSPA was adopted in 1958 during the early days of the Naga uprising to apply to what was then the state of Assam and the union territory of Manipur. It is hard to believe that to contend with a small group of armed rebels in a remote infrastructure-poor region it was found necessary to have a law modelled on a colonial ordinance devised to tackle the Quit India Movement — the most serious challenge faced by British colonial rule since the rebellion of 1857, as the then Viceroy of India saw it. ThaThe counterinsurgency campaigns against the Nagas were counterproductive. The suffering brought by the forced displacements during village regrouping, for example, only broadened the support for the rebels. Senior government officials who knew the region well soon regretted the way such decisions were made. “It may well be asked how such a ghastly tragedy could have been enacted at all with civilised and intelligent human beings at the helm of the administration,” wrote Nari Rustomji of the Indian Civil Service, who held positions such as the chief secretary of Assam and adviser on tribal areas to the governor. During the Mizo uprising of the 1960s and 1970s what is now the state of Mizoram went through a similar devastating ordeal.

In the following decades, as new states were formed in Northeast India, AFSPA was amended to accommodate the names of those states.

Seven of the region’s eight states have been at the receiving end of AFSPA at one time or another.

Over the past six decades, AFSPA’s use has extended well beyond the actual conduct of counterinsurgency operations. Multiple state and non-state armed actors have operated under its shadow. For instance, in Assam in the 1990s, death squads — or “secret killers” as they were called — carried out a wave of extrajudicial killings. These could not have occurred without the cover provided by AFSPA’s disturbed area designation.

In 2012, the Extra Judicial Execution Victim Families Association of Manipur petitioned the Supreme Court to investigate as many as 1,528 cases of fake encounters that allegedly occurred in the state between 1979 and 2012. The Supreme Court appointed a three-member commission to inquire into the first six of the 1,528 cases in the petition so that it could be “fully satisfied about the truth of the allegations”. None of the small sample of six cases was found to be an actual “encounter”. Drawing on these findings, the Supreme Court bench decided that the allegations could not “be summarily rubbished”. Its interim judgment of July 2016 said that “there is some truth in the allegations, calling for a deeper probe”.

In the court’s view, AFSPA clearly provided the context for these killings. The practice of deploying the armed forces to assist civil power, the ruling stressed, is premised on the assumption that “normalcy would be restored within a reasonable period”. If the civil administration and the armed forces fail to achieve this, that “cannot be a fig leaf for prolonged, permanent or indefinite deployment of the armed forces”. That would be a mockery of “our democratic process” and “a travesty” of the constitutional distribution of powers between the Centre and the states, which provides the legal foundation for the practice.t such a law remains in force till this day does not speak well of our experiment with democracy.

This is not the only time the apex court has been critical of AFSPA. It is often forgotten that when it pronounced AFSPA constitutional in 1997, it also recommended some changes. Among them was the stipulation that a “disturbed area” designation be subjected to review every six months. In some parts of Northeast India, AFSPA is now routinely extended every six months. But there is little evidence that any meaningful review occurs at those times. A statement made by an Assam official in August 2018 when AFSPA was extended in the state for six months is illustrative. “The situation is peaceful,” said the state’s police chief casually, “but we will not take a decision on withdrawing AFSPA till the NRC exercise is over.”

Edmund Burke, a contemporary of Adam Smith, wrote of the circumstances in which the repeal of a law becomes necessary and appropriate. Since “laws, like houses, lean on one another”, he said, repealing a law can be difficult. But when a law’s “transgressions against common right and the ends of just government” are considerable, it is only prudent to abrogate and repeal that law. This is true of AFSPA.

Written by Sanjib Baruah

The writer is professor of Political Studies at Bard College, New York.

Source: Indian Express, 4/04/21

Assam-Meghalaya border: the dispute, and what’s been settled

 

The chief ministers of Assam and Meghalaya have signed a pact to resolve part of their five-decade-old boundary dispute. What is the root of the conflict? What is the current pact? Who gets what?

On Tuesday (March 29), the chief ministers of Assam and Meghalaya signed a pact in the presence of Union Home Minister Amit Shah to resolve part of their five-decade-old boundary dispute. Over the years, the 884-km border between the two states has witnessed frequent flare-ups.

What is the root of the conflict?

During British rule, undivided Assam included present-day Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh, Meghalaya and Mizoram. Meghalaya was carved out in 1972, its boundaries demarcated as per the Assam Reorganisation (Meghalaya) Act of 1969, but has held a different interpretation of the border since.

In 2011, the Meghalaya government had identified 12 areas of difference with Assam, spread over approximately 2,700 sq km.

Some of these disputes stem from recommendations made by a 1951 committee headed by then Assam chief minister Gopinath Bordoloi. For example, a 2008 research paper from the Manohar Parrikar Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses refers to the Bordoloi Committee’s recommendation that Blocks I and II of Jaintia Hills (Meghalaya) be transferred to the Mikir Hill (Karbi Anglong) district of Assam,, besides some areas from Meghalaya’s Garo Hills to Goalpara district of Assam. The 1969 Act is based on these recommendations, which Meghalaya rejects, claiming that these areas originally belong to the Khasi–Jaintia Hills. On the other hand, Assam says Meghalaya does not have the requisite documents to prove these areas historically belonged to Meghalaya.

A number of attempts had been made in the past to resolve the boundary dispute. In 1985, under then Assam chief minister Hiteswar Saikia and Meghalaya chief minister Captain W A Sangma, an official committee to resolve the issue was constituted under the former Chief Justice of India Y V Chandrachud. However, a solution was not found.

Key turn but twists ahead

Meghalaya was carved out of Assam in 1972, and has held a different interpretation of the border since. The resolution at six of the 12 areas under dispute is significant, but the remaining points of friction are more complex and may prove to be a bigger challenge.

What is the current pact?

Since July last year, Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma and his Meghalaya counterpart Conrad Sangma have been in talks to solve the long-standing dispute.

Both state governments identified six out of 12 disputed areas for resolution in the first phase: 3 areas contested between West Khasi Hills district in Meghalaya and Kamrup in Assam, 2 between RiBhoi in Meghalaya and Kamrup-Metro, and 1 between East Jaintia Hills in Meghalaya and Cachar in Assam.

After a series of meetings and visits by teams to the disputed areas, both sides submitted reports based on five mutually agreed principles: historical perspective, ethnicity of local population, contiguity with boundary, peoples’ will and administrative convenience.

A final set of recommendations were made jointly: out of 36.79 sq km of disputed area taken up for settlement in the first phase, Assam would get full control of 18.46 sq km and Meghalaya of 18.33 sq km. The MoU signed on Tuesday was based on these recommendations.

So, who gets what?

From the 2011 claims made by Meghalaya government, an area of roughly 36.79 sq km was taken up for resolution in the first phase.

According to presentations by both states, the area has been roughly divided into equal parts, and a total of 30 sq km is being recommended to be within Meghalaya.

What are the next steps?

The next step will involve delineation and demarcation of the boundary by Survey of India in the presence of representatives of both governments. It will then be put up in Parliament for approval. The process may take a few months.

Officials said six areas taken for study did not have large differences and were easier to resolve, and were hence taken up in the first phase. “The remaining six areas are more complex and may take longer to resolve,” said an Assam government official.

Is there any opposition?

Former Meghalaya CM Mukul Sangma, who is now part of the Trinamool Congress that is the principal opposition party in Meghalaya, criticised the government’s approach. “This is a piecemeal resolution. They have taken up only 36 sq km for resolution. The larger, more complex areas (such as Langpih, Block I and II) are yet to be resolved and it will not be so easy,” he said. “The reality on ground zero is different – as far as I know, many people have not accepted the settlement and the agreement is almost like an imposition,” he said.

In Assam, too, Opposition leaders criticised the state government for rushing through the issues, and not consulting stakeholders. In January, Leader of Opposition Debabrata Saikia of the Congress had alleged that CM Sarma had gone ahead and submitted a proposal to the Union Home Minister “without even a discussion in the State Assembly.” “This is irresponsible and unconstitutional,” said Saikia, asking that the recommendations be rescinded and demanding a special session in the Assembly.

Written by Tora Agarwala ,

Source: Indian Exprss, 1/04/22