In Manipur CM’s Stoking of Ethnic Tensions, a Lesson From the Northeast’s History

Biren Singh may not resign yet, despite the demand from the BJP’s national leaders, because it could mean the end of his political career. But his actions over the past few years are reminiscent of Golap Borbora’s in the late 1970s in Assam.

This is the second of a two-part series on how disturbances in countries that India shares a border with contribute to internal violence. The first part reflects on how upheavals in countries bordering the Northeast lead to internal disturbances in the region from time to time. The second part cites examples of prominent leaders from across the political spectrum trying to build their electoral future from these disturbances.

New Delhi: On Friday morning, news was abuzz in Imphal that the BJP’s top brass has finally asked Manipur chief minister N. Biren Singh to step down. While news reports speculated that Singh was to hand over his resignation to the governor on Friday afternoon, he decided not to do so after his supporters gathered near his home and asked him not to do so.

While there may be more twists to this story, the fact that it came to this point indicates that the Narendra Modi government has run out of options in the strife-torn state.

Clearly, Modi and other top BJP leaders need not have waited so long to take this call, had it not been to manage the optics of a BJP-ruled state being brought under the President’s rule for the breakdown of the law and order situation. After all, unlike in 2017, the second Biren Singh regime is a full-fledged BJP government in Manipur. The onus of bad governance in the northeastern state will rest wholly on the party and its chief minister – something that the national leadership must have wanted to avoid, especially after the Karnataka debacle.

The pressure on Biren Singh to resign – after helplessly watching rampant violence that killed many and displaced thousands in the last two months – must, however, be placed in the context of northeastern political history.

Violence and ethnic skirmishes displacing thousands have been an ugly reality of the post-independence history of the Northeast as a whole. Even if you take only Manipur into account, the ongoing community versus community clash is but an echo of its socio-political history, hinged on the victim-perpetrator fear – a phenomenon oft-sighted across the communities of the region. But what has remained a constant is this: pointing of fingers, particularly by a majority community at a minority group, has spiralled into a mass movement of sorts whenever a state chief minister has played with fire to counter a challenge to his leadership from within his party.

Biren Singh. In the background is a photo of Manipur tweeted by MC Mary Kom.

There is at least one prominent example that proves that if a weak chief minister, in a bid to gain popular support, plays with public sentiment, the situation can spiral to a point where it becomes difficult to put the genie back in the bottle.

To understand this, you will have to flip back to the Assam of the late 1970s, the challenges to the leadership of the incumbent chief minister, and its connection with the first sparks of the anti-foreigner agitation in that state. The parallels between what is unfolding in Manipur today under N. Biren Singh and in the late 1970s in Assam under Golap Borbora are rather uncanny.

In the ongoing clash, Manipur’s majority community, the Meiteis, claims that the Kukis, a minority, have been harbouring “illegal immigrants” from a disturbed Myanmar. In the 1970s, Assam’s majority community, the Assamese, were also accusing the Muslims and Hindus of East Bengal origin, a minority, of sheltering “illegal immigrants” from war-torn East Pakistan.

These two prominent examples, from different eras, underline that conflicts across the international borders of a northeastern state that displace ordinary people can trigger public unrest over the arrival of refugees and cause an internal disturbance. But another facet that needs to be highlighted is that the weak leadership of a chief minister can be lethal in such cases if New Delhi doesn’t act quickly.

Back in 1978, Assam had got its first non-Congress government, a Janata Party regime under the chief ministership of Golap Borbora. However, in early 1979, a dissident group within the Janata Party sprung up under the leadership of a formidable Assamese leader, Tarini Mohan Barua. Thus, chief minister Borbora’s leadership was challenged. He came under tremendous pressure to find ways to remain in the chair. It was also the time when the Jan Sangh was trying to replace Borbora with their nominee, Renuka Devi Barkataki, a minister of state in the then Morarji Desai government. The Jan Sangh sought Borbora’s removal because he was “too secular”. A reason for that ‘secular’ tag by was because Borbora was accused by the Jan Sangh of being silent on the alleged immigration of Muslims from Bangladesh through the open border.

Come March 16, 1979, Borbora made a tactical statement in the Assam assembly, seemingly to gain public support and remain in power. He claimed that the influx from Bangladesh and Nepal “was assuming alarming proportion and that his government has taken a firm stand on the matter”. By doing so, he at once sided with powerful sub-nationalist forces like the All Assam Students Union (AASU) and Asom Sahitya Sabha, which were then unhappy with the arrival of bohiragoto (outsiders).

Days later, the Election Commission of India (ECI) announced the dates for the bye-election to a parliamentary seat in Assam which included a sizeable population of Bengali-origin Muslims. A Janata member, Hiralal Patowary, had passed away, necessitating the bye-election in Mangaldoi. Borbora, on June 7, 1979, had a long meeting with Prime Minister Desai in Delhi. Soon after, the ECI decided to extend the dates for the completion of the bye-election. The rest is history as Borbora famously facilitated the AASU’s demand to the ECI for the suspension of the bye-election until the electoral rolls in Mangaldoi were reviewed and the names of ‘illegal immigrants’ were weeded out. Those were the first sparks of the anti-foreigner agitation. The fall of the Desai government ensured the end of the Borbora government too – but the sparks soon became an inferno that spread uncontrollably.

A rally in the Assam anti-foreigners movement. Photo: Wikipedia/CC BY-SA 4.0

Cut to Manipur 2023. Since the time Biren Singh was made the chief minister in 2017, there has been minor bickering within the BJP about the national leadership’s decision to hand the top job to a former Congressman. That minor rebellion, led by a CM hopeful, Thongam Biswajit Singh, gradually gained heft among several other BJP MLAs. In mid-2020, a coup of sorts was launched against Biren Singh by his own party colleagues and some allied parties. New Delhi intervened and ensured that status quo was maintained.

However, when Biren Singh was picked as the Manipur CM once again after the 2022 assembly polls, dissent raised its head. Once again, there was a rush of groups of party MLAs to the BJP headquarters in Delhi seeking a leadership change ensued.

With New Delhi looking the other way, Biren Singh became more and more autocratic. He perceived the national leaders’ nonchalance as a license to go after any MLA he chose to. However, his domineering approach to governance and to intra-party affairs was not lost on the common public, particularly the majority community of Meiteis, who have a say in 40 of the state’s 60 assembly segments.

It is here that one will have to place the chief minister’s sudden swerve from ‘go to the hills’ policy to propping up a few Meitei groups influenced by Hindutva and ultra sub-nationalism to flog the bogey of the hills (the Kukis) harbouring “illegal immigrants” from Myanmar. The 1970s Assam template is instructive to comprehend who could benefit politically from an agenda pivoted on public sentiments.

Still, even after the BJP national leaders’ directive, Biren Singh will leave no stones unturned to remain in the CM’s chair – primarily because his resignation may warrant the end of his political career. This bout of violence under his watch will not be forgotten anytime soon, not by the public nor by the rebels within his party and the opposition. Even if the BJP returns to power in the state, his return as chief minister may not be so smooth if he vacates the chair now.

Also Read: Despite Delhi Ignoring It, Upheavals in Countries Bordering the Northeast Have Always Led to Turmoil

Yet another Northeast example

In Mizoram too, the sentiments of the majority community, firmed up by a conflict unfolding across its international border, is being used for political ends by the chief minister. If you go by the state’s political observers, chief minister Zoramthanga is hoping to return to power at the end of 2023 by banking on such a phenomenon.

The Zoramthanga government has openly refused New Delhi’s directive to hand over refugees from Myanmar to the military junta, not so much on humanitarian grounds but because the Chins share ancestry with the Mizos. Many refugees have been welcomed by the ordinary Mizos. Several Myanmarese political leaders and security officials have also reportedly taken refuge in Mizoram. That lot, residing in rented accommodations in Aizawl, are said to be under the protection and watchful eye of the Assam Rifles.

Add to it the Manipur skirmish across the state’s border. The Kukis also have a close bond with the Chins, evoking similar public sentiments in the local population. The arrival area of the Lengpui airport in Aizawl, for some weeks now has an exclusive police desk for passengers arriving from strife-torn Manipur to record their migration. As per media reports, nearly 9,000 people of Kuki-Zo-Chin families of Manipur have taken shelter in Mizoram due to the ongoing conflict.

Zoramthanga. Photo: PTI

That desk is not only a marker of internally displaced Kuki-Zo people but also a dubious first: people from one northeastern state fleeing to another due to a local conflict are no longer dependent only on the land route. None could have thought that better air connectivity between the Northeastern states would also serve such a purpose.

With Mizoram heading to polls later this year, the outreach efforts of the Mizo National Front (MNF) government towards refugees from Myanmar, so also the Kukis of Manipur, must also be viewed from the electoral lens, particularly when the anti-incumbency sentiment against the Zoramthanga regime is on the rise lately. The sweep of the civic body polls by a new regional party, Zoram People’s Movement (ZPM) this past April, was seen by the state’s political observers as signalling the beginning of the end for the MNF.

Gauhati HC Asks Assam to Move Six Detention Centres Out of District Jail Premises

The court passed the directive highlighting that such a practice goes against the Supreme Court directions in 2012 and the subsequent guidelines issued by the Ministry of Home Affairs.

New Delhi: The Gauhati high court has asked the Assam government to take the required steps to move out the six foreigner detention centres from the district jail premises.

Since 2009, a portion of three jails in the northeastern border state – in Goalpara, Kokrajhar and Silchar – have been functioning as foreigner detention centres. In the past five years, three other such centres were set up inside the premises of the Jorhat, Dibrugarh and Tezpur district jails.

On October 8, Justice Achintya Malla Bujor Baruah, hearing a petition filed by Abantee Dutta, Dipika Sarkar and Santanu Borthakur, passed the directive to the state government, highlighting that such a practice goes against the Supreme Court directions in the Bhim Singh vs Union of India case in 2012 and the subsequent guidelines issued by the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) to the state governments and Union Territory administrations on the matter in September 2014.

The petitioners raised the issue to question in what manner the detention centres are required to be operated by the authorities for the purpose of keeping the foreigners/undocumented migrants and others who are awaiting deportation/repatriation to the countries of their origin or waiting an adjudication of the respective claim.

The high court quoted from the MHA guidelines that had clearly stated that all state governments/UT administrations are required to comply with those directions and set up “sufficient number of detention centres/holding centres/camps for restricting the movement of illegal migrants/foreign nationals awaiting deportation/repatriation after completion of sentence due to non-confirmation of nationality, under the provisions of Section 3 (2) (e) of Foreigners Act, 1946.”

As per the MHA guidelines, the concerned state governments may decide on the number of such detention centres, holding centres or camps. Clause 2 of the guidelines clearly states that such centres “should be set outside the jail premises” and all basic amenities should be provided to the inmates.

In April 2019, speaking to The Wire for a video report, some former detainees had spoken about the deplorable living conditions inside these centres in Assam.

Also Read: Detention Centres in Assam Are Synonymous With Endless Captivity

On October 8, the court said since ten years have passed by since a part of the Goalpara, Kokrajhar and Silchar jails were declared detention centres, it could not be “understood to be temporary arrangement” anymore.

It also felt that considering the MHA’s directives, “there is requirement on the part of the State authorities to set up detention centres. In Matia area of the state’s Goalpara district, the state government has been constructing a large detention centres with funds from the MHA.

In some other states too, such detention centres are being built.

After hearing the argument by senior advocate Nilay Dutta on behalf of the petitioners, R.K.D Choudhury, the senior state government pleader, and A. Gyan for the Union of India, the single-judge bench of the high court said:

“We require the authorities in the State Government, Home and Political Affairs to submit an action taken report within the next returnable date on the steps that have been taken to set up detention centre outside the jail premises and if necessary by following the requirement of the two communication dated 07.03.2012 and the 10.09.2014 as well as the Clause 4.1 and 4.4 of the model manual which requires that if suitable government accommodations are not available for the purpose, the authorities may also be required to hire any private premises for the purpose.”

The next hearing in the case has been slated for October 16.

Assam Discharges Foreigners’ Tribunal Member Who Wrote Letter With Communal Overtones

Kamlesh Kumar Gupta said the relief fund collected by members of the Baksa tribunal should not be used to treat COVID-19 patients who participated in the Tablighi Jamaat congregation.

New Delhi: The Assam government has discharged from duty Kamlesh Kumar Gupta, a member of a Foreigners’ Tribunal (FT), who courted controversy this past April by writing a letter to state health minister Himanta Biswa Sarma that contained communal overtones.

The state’s political department, which handles the FTs and is headed by chief minister Sarbananda Sonowal, said in an order dated May 22 that Gupta has been released from duty “in the interest of public service” and his conduct was “found to be unbecoming of a responsible FT member”.

Gupta, who headed a Tribunal in Baksa district of the state, said in the letter written on April 7 to Himanta Biswa Sarma that he, along with 12 FT members and staff of the tribunal, had collected a fund of Rs 62,999 for the Assam Arogya Nidhi, set up by the state government to fight the COVID-19 pandemic.

He said, “Our only prayer is that the help may not be extended to the members of violators of Tabligi Jamaat jihadi and jahil”.

An initial spurt in Assam’s COVID-19 cases was traced to those who attended the Tablighi Jamaat congregation in Delhi’s Nizamuddin area.

Also Read: Assam: Foreigners’ Tribunal Members ‘Communalise’ COVID-19 in Letter to Health Minister

Following an uproar in the state over Gupta’s communal condition set to the state government for spending the fund, the FT member said he had withdrawn the letter on April 11. The other FT members were thereafter sent a show-cause notice by the political department of the state, leading them to backtrack, saying they were not consulted by Gupta during the drafting of the letter.

Congress MP from Barpeta constituency, Abdul Khaleque, wrote a letter to Sonowal on April 16 seeking action against Gupta “for the highly communal” and “reprehensible” letter.

The tribunals deal with the cases filed by the state’s border police against persons suspected to be foreigners or undocumented Bangladeshis. The FTs also take up cases of people who have been termed doubtful or D-voter by the Election Commission of India.

In its May 22 order, the political department said, “In the interest of public service and in continuation of the department’s earlier notification dated May 16, 2020, Kamlesh Kumar Gupta, member, Foreigners Tribunal, Baksa, stands released with effect from May 23, 2020 (afternoon) as his conduct has been found to be unbecoming of a responsible FT member.” It said, Bimal Sarma, member, FT, Nalbari, would hold the additional charge of the Baksa Tribunal.

Gupta’s term was to end this May and the state government reportedly didn’t renew it, leading to his discharge from duty.

What 787 Cases in the Gauhati HC Tell Us About How ‘Suspected Foreigner’ Cases Are Decided

Two recent verdicts of the Gauhati high court have highlighted the human cost brought by procedural and systemic issues and reflect a failure of the justice system to employ a humane approach.

Two widely reported recent orders of the Gauhati high court have drawn attention to the issue of documents submitted by ‘suspected foreigners’ being deemed insufficient by Foreigners Tribunals to establish Indian citizenship. These tribunals, quasi-judicial authorities in Assam, have been deciding on matters pertaining to citizenship in order to identify foreigners. The process begins by the border police or the Election Commission referring the case of a suspected foreigner to the Foreigners Tribunal. The tribunal calls on the person to appear before it and prove that they are not a foreigner, and then passes an order in favour or against them.

Anowara was declared a foreigner by a tribunal in Bongaigaon in 2018 on the ground that “none of the link documents… stood proved through the legal testimony of the issuing authority”. The human cost in terms of loss of their identity, loss of belonging, and loss of the right to live in the country, due to procedural and systemic issues reflect a failure of our justice system in employing a humane approach before permanently altering a person’s life.

Persons appearing before Foreigners Tribunals need to produce identity documentation proving that they were born in India and are descended from persons who entered India before March 24, 1971. Such persons are allowed to produce secondary evidence such as university certificates or gaon panchayat certificates for this purpose. However, in order for such secondary evidence to be considered valid proof of their presence in India pre-1971, the person issuing the certificate must appear before the tribunal to testify and prove that the document is genuine. This would mean that the principal of a university/school or the head of a gaon panchayat must appear before the Foreigners Tribunal to testify on the contents of the document and its authenticity. In Anowara’s case, the head of the gram panchayat and headmaster of her primary school failed to appear before the tribunal.

Also Read: Gauhati HC Comes to Rescue of Man Declared ‘Foreigner’ in Spite of Inclusion in 2 Voters’ Lists

Failure of issuing authorities to appear 

The authors analysed 787 orders and judgments of the Gauhati high court to understand how matters of citizenship were being decided. One in two people are declared foreigners because issuing authorities fail to appear before the Foreigners Tribunals to testify that the documents produced are genuine and true to their knowledge. As all the cases analysed were filed by the persons who were declared to be foreigners (the authors did not come across any cases at the high court which were filed by the state regarding the citizenship of persons), there is a need to understand how the state government and the high court are handling this issue since the court has reversed the findings of the Foreigners Tribunals in only 3% of the cases.

Although not classified as criminal cases, cases filed against persons suspected of being foreigners are litigated between the concerned person and the state. In criminal cases, courts issue notices to witnesses to depose before them. If a witness fails to appear before the court, the court can even issue an arrest warrant against the witness to ensure their appearance before the court. If such measures can be taken in a regular criminal case, should not such measures be taken to secure the presence of key witnesses before declaring a person a foreigner and deporting them from the country they live in? The lack of adequate capacity or will on the part of issuing authorities to appear before the Foreigners Tribunals and the lack of state capacity to ensure their presence is deeply unsettling and problematic. The consequence of this lackadaisical approach is a drastic loss of right and liberty.

A person who does not find her name of the NRC will have to now appeal to a Foreigners Tribunal. Photo: Hussain Ahmad Madani

A Foreigners Tribunal in Assam’s Goalpara. Photo: Hussain Ahmad Madani

In addition to concerns of capacity to ensure the appearance of witnesses, the lack of adequate capacity to adjudicate upon these cases raises concerns on the delivery of justice. A five-judge bench of the Supreme Court in the case of Madras Bar Association vs Union of India had held:

“There seems to be no doubt, whatsoever, that the Members of a court/tribunal to which adjudicatory functions are transferred, must be manned by judges/members whose stature and qualifications are commensurate to the court from which the adjudicatory process has been transferred.”

Foreigners Tribunals allow for advocates with no judicial experience to decide upon cases related to suspected foreigners. Further, members are appointed on a contractual basis, with studies having found that only members who declare a high number of persons as foreigners are retained, with the performance of others deemed ‘unsatisfactory’ and their contracts terminated. With Foreigners Tribunals adjudicating upon an issue as sensitive as citizenship and loss of identity, it must be ensured that cases are adjudicated upon by members with judicial experience and whose tenure does not depend upon ‘satisfactory performance’ to be determined by the state government.

Judicial delay

Further, cases relating to foreigners also suffer from the problem of judicial delay. Anowara’s case was filed in 2007 and was pending for 11 years before the Foreigners Tribunal declared her a foreigner. The Gauhati high court cases analysed by the authors revealed that on average, these cases took 2,466 days (6.7 years) to be decided between the time a case was filed before the Foreigners Tribunals and the case was disposed by the high court. On average, persons accused of being foreigners live in an uncertain and terrifying limbo about their citizenship for 6.7 years, some of them even in detention for most part of this period.

Based on the Foreigners Tribunal case numbers, the authors attempted to arrive at an approximate time taken to decide these cases by assuming the date of filing to be the middle date in the year of filing the case. It was found that Foreigners Tribunals take 1,208 days (3.3 years) on average to decide such cases, give or take six months. When the authors analysed how frequently their cases were heard in the high court, they found that the average number of days between hearings was 116 days, and the high court took 477 days (1.3 years) on average to decide these cases.

Also Read: Judiciary ‘Complicit in Perpetuating Exclusion, Abuse’: Amnesty Report on NRC

In order to put these numbers in perspective, the authors also analysed the progress of other cases in the Gauhati high court, as per data available in the database of DAKSH, a non-profit organisation. For these cases, the average number of days between hearings at the high court was 31 days, and the overall time taken to dispose cases was 277 days (0.7 years). The cases filed against the orders of Foreigners Tribunals were taking considerably longer than other cases before the high court, even though these did not involve complex questions of law. The reasons for this difference are unknown.

Further, on analysing the number of cases filed before the Gauhati high court against decisions of the Foreigners Tribunals, the authors found that there was a large spike in the number of cases filed in 2016 with the number of cases being close to double that of the previous year. Coincidentally, it was in 2014 that the Government of Assam set up 64 Foreigners Tribunals in addition to the then-existing 36. If it takes approximately three years before a case is decided by the Foreigners Tribunal and a challenge is filed in the high court, perhaps this explains a spike in the number of cases filed before the Gauhati HC.

Implications of the NRC

With over 19 lakh people excluded from the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam, the work of the Foreigners Tribunals and the Gauhati high court will increase exponentially if cases of these people are referred to them. Between 1985 to October 2019, there were 4,68,905 cases referred to Foreigners Tribunals. As per statistics of the Gauhati high court, it disposed a total of 14,552 cases in 2018. If this is an indication of the number of cases they can dispose of annually, adding 19 lakh cases to their workload is going to have a severe effect on their efficiency and access to justice for citizens.

This is apart from the cost to the litigants themselves, many of whom will end up running through their savings. Further, the burden on government offices that have to search for thousands of documents and government officials who have to shuttle around the state giving evidence, cannot be ignored.

The authors would like to thank their interns Sahana R., Tanya Reddy and Rasmiika Punnoose for their assistance.

Shruthi Naik and Leah Verghese are with DAKSH, a nonprofit based in Bengaluru.

Floods in the Time of NRC: A Toss up Between Life and Citizenship

The sight of people in Assam refusing to leave their submerged homes is a heartbreaking snapshot of the struggle to prove that one belongs to the land one considers home.

Growing up in Kolkata, I used to wait for the northwesterly winds and cloudy skies in the evenings; for the sultry afternoon sun to recede behind clouds, covering the city in long shadows. Then the rains came, hard pellets hitting the streets, pounding windows, strong gusts of wind blowing through the city. Memories of rain spattered afternoons – when Calcuttans unfurled their Mohendra Dutt umbrellas, walked in the downpour, water lapping at their feet, wind blowing against their faces – used to be a joyous prospect.

Not anymore.

As the Earth heats up, rains grow harder, and floods become endemic, people watch the skies with anxiety, not longing. For tens of thousands, living along precarious coastlines and in low-lying areas, in houses of doubtful durability, the onset of the monsoon can be a harbinger of death and destruction.

In 2019, we find a new layer to this emerging narrative. This layer, inserted by politics, is currently playing out in the race to prove one’s citizenship in this country. At this moment, thousands of people in Assam, a majority of them poor, are living in houses where water levels have risen to alarming heights. But people in these submerged houses are unwilling to move to places of safety. They have the noose of a July 31 deadline tightening around their neck. The final National Register of Citizens (NRC) will be published at the end of this month, barely two weeks from now. Till then, flood-affected people – however vulnerable they are to rising, perilous waters – are resolved to guard their documents.

The situation is a toss-up between life and citizenship. You may survive the floods but still not be able to prove your bonafide claim to go on living in the country you have inhabited for decades. What would the survivor of a natural calamity do if she cannot escape the punitive fiat of a “strong” state? She may find herself transported to a detention camp, reduced to the status of a stateless refugee, having to move from place to place filled with anxiety and fear. Her destiny lies in the documents that may or may not prove her citizenship.

Also Read: You May Think You Are an Indian Citizen, but Can You Convince the State?

It’s heart-breaking when you think of the condition of these homes going under water. These are not glitzy advertorial apartments with swanky safes or lockers built in to ensure the safety of important belongings. Neither do many of those affected have bank accounts and secure vaults. A compassionate state (if that very invocation is itself not an anomaly) committed to protecting the poor and vulnerable would frame rules keeping the interests of such precarious populations in mind. But as history shows, it is the poor, who, without fail, who feel the brunt of ill-conceived policies.

An Indian Express report on Wednesday revealed the predicament of people trying to cope with the ravages of floods and the stringent citizenship test. Many of those stuck in flooded areas are simply refusing to leave their houses, said the report. Parvesh Kumar, a rescuer from the National Disaster Response Force (NDRF,) was trying in vain, for two days, to persuade Rina Begum, a resident of Tulsibari village in Assam’s Morigaon district, to leave her half-submerged house. “Over the last 48 hours, as rescuers shuttle her neighbours from their marooned homes to dry land, Begum, a 50-year-old grandmother of four, watched but remained defiant. “How can we leave our home?” she says, standing in waist-deep water,” the report states.

The reporter goes on to say, even when many families agree to leave their homes, they insist on ensuring the safety of their documents. It quotes Parvesh Kumar saying: “So many times, we brought them to safety only to go back again because they realise they have forgotten their document.” Land and home are defining identity markers in minority-dominated areas of Assam. “This could be one of the reasons that they feel so scared to leave their homes,” a local official told the Indian Express.

Villagers use a makeshift raft to cross a flooded area on the outskirts of Agartala, India July 15, 2019. Photo: REUTERS/Jayanta Dey

Climate, culture and refugees

The convergence of floods and the last days and weeks leading up to the final NRC paint a picture of what the world is going to increasingly look like in the days, months and years ahead. Perpetuating cycles of migrants in search of safety and livelihood, refugees produced by climate change and state action will walk in lock-step. The crises of climate and culture will converge to create new refugees. Proving citizenship is going to become the next big battle ground, and the state will step up its demand to produce increasingly more documents to prove that one belongs to the land one considers home.

India knows the trauma of refugees, knows it intimately, and on many fronts. If the 1947 Partition, and the 1971 Bangladesh war of liberation produced one kind of refugees, the displacement of tribals by massive economic projects produced another mass of landless people. Stripped off their homes and lands, residents become migrants become refugees. Against this backdrop, the NRC has opened yet another flank, further muddying and complicating an already fractious political discourse.

Also Read: Centre, Assam Move SC Over NRC ‘Sample Re-Verification,’ Deadline Extension

This Tuesday, home minister Amit Shah once again indicated his government’s resolve to make the NRC a nationwide project. He was responding to a supplementary question raised by Samajwadi Party member Javed Ali Khan. “Currently, the NRC is a part of Assam Accord. The Centre – as per its election manifesto – is dedicated to weaning out illegal immigrants from every inch of this country. We will make sure that all such immigrants are deported as per international law,” said Shah.

The NRC’s implications are huge. It has set off new tensions in an already existing atmosphere of anxiety and fear. We are witnessing the trauma, bewilderment and helplessness of the people excluded from the register in Assam. It’s difficult to grapple with what the consequences of such a nationwide exercise and what they will look like.

Debate: Miyah Poetry in the Time of Nationalism

Acknowledging that we live in xenophobic times is not equal to misrepresenting or wrongly painting the entire people of Assam.

On June 10, the Northeast Collective of IIT Bombay organised a public talk titled “Miyah Poetry: Translating Protest in Times of Xenophobia.” The talk was delivered by the much acclaimed young poet and translator from Assam, Shalim M. Hussain. The Northeast Collective, an initiative by some students of IIT Bombay, is committed to voice socio-cultural concerns of Northeast students through academic debates, public lectures, workshops and cultural events. We are against use of the term ‘Northeast’ to represent a homogenous sociopolitical space, but we rather use it consciously to broaden the term as a spatial metaphor for the heterogeneity and multiplicity of people in this region.

Now, the ongoing debate about Miyah poetry has shaken public life in Assam of late. The subject matter of the debate is mixed, ranging from issues of language, dialect, identity and politics, and yet they all seem to be connected to nationalism and citizenship. While these debates are perennial to the region, they have escalated since the new third wave Miyah poetry roughly after 2016. The debate has taken a new turn after a series of recent events, of which the talk organised by NEC-IITB is one, and it has received much criticism from some intellectuals and public personalities of Assam, who are mostly men. It is in this respect that we wish to respond as to why even at the risk of appearing ‘anti-Assamese’ we organised the talk around the theme of xenophobia.

Critical thinking invites us today to question and break the idols of regressive, dehumanising universals of a bygone era. Critique at least must not play into the hands of the majoritarian fervor gripping a community. The Hegelian Owl of Minerva cannot afford to wait for the night to fall. Seeing early signs, it must prevent history from repeating itself. We are all aware of what aggressive ethno-nationalism ultimately led to in Assam in the 80s. In times like ours, institutions of higher learning must be the final bastions remaining to instill a sense of reproach and dissent in society. Failing to do so surely raises a question mark on the moral ground of these institutions.

Also Read: Assam: Ten Poets, Activists Booked for Poem on Citizenship Row

Now, why is it high time for the Assamese society to acknowledge the xenophobic times that we are living in, perpetuated socially as well as personally? To begin with, the term ‘xenophobia’ is derived from the Greek words ‘xenos’ (stranger or foreigner) and ‘phobos’ (fear). Xenophobia is the fear of strangers, foreigners or simply the ‘other’. However, in its present usage, the term has come to mean not only fear, but it also includes other manifestations of fear like hatred, resentment and subordination of people who are seen as foreigners, based on their ethnicity, religion, language or race. All modern western polities have struggled with supremacist ideals that have led to civic exclusion and subordination of people considered foreigners or simply the ‘other’. Most often, xenophobic sentiments are manifested in a casual manner without acknowledgment or awareness. From our lived experiences, allow us to draw a few examples.

Most often, xenophobic sentiments are manifested in a casual manner without acknowledgment or awareness. Credit: PTI

“Land hungry illegal immigrant”

When one of us was a child growing up in Jorhat, there used to be a Muslim rickshaw puller, who left his ancestral home in Dhubri after the death of his wife. Occasionally, he used to ferry us to our bus stop in the morning and back home in the afternoon. He was a man of few words and barely anyone knew his actual name. Everyone called out to him “Oi Miyah!” Blindly following the world around us, as children we used to call him “Miyah Uncle”. One day he met with an accident and nobody knew what happened to him after that. Sometimes in the street one overheard passing comments that it was better without him, better with one less ‘land-hungry illegal migrant’.

Academic output on landless migrants of East Bengal origin, mostly Muslims, usually portray them as ‘land-hungry’, ‘land-grabbing’ people. From “Report on Illegal Migration into Assam,” submitted by S.K. Sinha, then governor of Assam, to the president of India in 1998, we know that such references first appeared in the colonial censuses of 1911 and 1921 in Assam and then most notably in the census of 1931 by C.S. Mullan. But why continue such ill-considered colonial categories today? It is most saddening to see that these categories have been used without further interrogation by even the most left-oriented academicians, writers and commentators, whose seminal works have motivated us. Why? Following these writers, many subsequent young scholars have used such categories without consideration. We are not questioning the academic credibility of any of these writers. We merely want to point out why such entrenched and dangerous intellectual habits must be abandoned sooner than later. Saying ‘poor landless peasants’ is one thing and ‘landhungry’/‘land-grabbing’ is another. There is a subtle transition from portraying the peasants as victims of cruel poverty to demonising them. And through demonisation, their everyday civic ostracism is normalised, producing the demeaning street-slang like the ‘Miyah’.

Also Read: Miyah Poetry Weaves a World of Suffering and Humiliation in Contemporary Assam

How can we aspire for a genuine peasant movement rooted in socialist ideals if we first demonise the peasants? However bizarre this might sound, why are Hindu refugees from East Pakistan who settled all over Assam after Partition in 1947, not called ‘land-hungry’? Or the tribal and near-tribal communities that migrated from Southeast Asia into Brahmaputra and Barak Valleys at various stages of history much before these recent migrations? Is it because it happened before colonial times or because there were no ‘sons of the soil’ then to call them migrants? We are not trying to argue that migration should continue unabated. On January 11, the NEC-IITB organised a protest march in the campus against the proposed Citizenship Amendment Bill, 2016. It is clear that the label of original ‘sons of the soil’ does not apply to most communities in the region. It is good to remember that British-induced migration from East Bengal in the 20th century was also a response to a humanitarian crisis, and today’s Assamese society may avert a Nellie-like crisis in the future only when we accept our own histories of migration rather than fabricating arguments of indigeneity. One is reminded of Pahom, the peasant protagonist in Tolstoy’s story How Much Land Does a Man Need?, whose greed for land only intensifies as he owns more of it, perpetually driving him into a life of discontent and unhappiness. What he could finally take away from the good-natured Bashkírs – the merry making ‘foreign’ folks – at his untimely death was only the six feet of land required for his burial.

A protest against the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill at the Assam Administrative Staff College, Khanapara, in Guwahati. Credit: PTI

Commodifying land

Certain intellectual circles argue that the seeds of all current conflicts in the region were sown with purpose by the colonial rulers and that contemporary issues cannot be delineated without considering the context of colonialism. Without doubt, it is well-established that the policy of promoting migration to Assam was part of the internal dynamics of the colonial economy. Lockean governmental technologies of the British like categorising already inhabited land that lacked notions of property and profit as ‘wasteland’ were all formative factors in commodifying the region’s land. Colonial migration strategies created new contradictions for the so-called ‘indigenous’ people of the valley on the one hand, and gave rise to a crisis over citizenship for the migrants as well as ‘indigenous’ communities on the other. As the post-colonial state established modern institutions and the legal vocabulary, these contradictions only took new forms that continue to affect the region. Yes, there is no denial of these events and processes. But what is the significance of still using these alibis to validate a sense of insecurity to foment mistrust against the latecomers?

The leveling essentialism implicit in the linguistic-cultural nationalism of a people disparages all aspects of what it considers as its other. To speak plainly, it is nothing but everyday institutionalisation of ethnocentrism, almost always carried out casually. Needless to say, it is in engaging with the other that our ethics has any meaning. We believe that in engaging with Miyah poetry, a small step was taken in that direction. By choosing poetry as a means to express a lifetime of suffering and affliction in the char-chaporis, it is desperately trying to make itself felt among the Assamese living in the heartland of Assam. Would feeling at one with precarious humans make you an anti-national? Or a reactionary? Or even a foreign-funded comprador? Let people write in whichever dialect they can to bring out the realities of their life-world. It certainly cannot be a threat to Assamese identity. Language is always historically contingent and is forever subject to the winds of change. But communication between different multilingual practices can only strengthen the plurality of a society, as Mrinal Miri has rightly shown us in Philosophy and Education.

Also Read: Debate: Miyah Poetry in the Assam Context

Recent students following the NCERT curriculum must have read “The Last Lesson” by Alphonso Daudet in their Class XII English course. In the story, as the Prussian Empire takes over France and orders arrive from Berlin to replace French with German in all French schools, a French teacher who delivers his last lesson in French after 40 years of teaching it poignantly bids adieu to his class writing “Viva La France!”

The fear of losing one’s language and identity seems to be widespread, and in no way it is unique to the Assamese. Will this fear make us perpetrators of systemic violence upon another people? The adivasis are organising ‘adivasi mahasabhas’ across Assam to obtain regional acceptance for their vernacular language.Will they, too, become a threat to the Assamese identity? It is good that a dialogue has now begun in the academic circles that will slowly seep into the general masses too. Acknowledging that we live in xenophobic times is not equal to misrepresenting or wrongly painting the entire people of Assam. It is only a critical call, one that only warns us of the early signs of a spectre looming over Assam for long. And Daudet may be precise in saying that “when a people are enslaved, as long as they hold fast to their language it is as if they had the key to their prison.”

Since this story was published, reports have come in of two more FIRs having been registered against the Miyah poets, who have reportedly gone into hiding. The bail hearing of ten poets booked for a poem is on Monday, June 15.

Rintu Borah recently completed his M.Phil in Planning and Development and will soon be joining the Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay as a doctoral candidate. Prithiraj Borah is a doctoral student in sociology at Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay.

Some Bangladeshis Have Been Slipping Into India Through Riverine Border: Centre

Minister of state for home G. Kishan Reddy said the government does not have exact data on such undocumented immigrants and any demographic change in north-eastern states due to it.

New Delhi: The Ministry of Home Affairs has stated through a written reply in parliament that “some illegal migrants” have been slipping into India particularly through the riverine part of the border with Bangladesh.

In response to an unstarred question (No.1744) by Naranbhai Kachhadiya, a BJP Lok Sabha MP from Gujarat, the minister of state for home affairs, G. Kishan Reddy, said on July 2, “Some illegal migrants are able to enter in a clandestine and surreptitious manner (to India), mainly due to (the) difficult riverine terrain in parts of the long international borders with Bangladesh.”

This, he said, is in spite of border guarding forces conducting “regular patrolling, lay nakas (barriers) and establish observation posts and carry out anti-tunnelling exercise to stop illegal infiltration.”

The MoS said, “A technological solution in the form of Comprehensive Integrated Border Management System (CIBMS) has been implemented in some vulnerable border areas.”

Assam shares a 263 km boundary with Bangladesh, out of which nearly 120 km is riverine. The possible existence of undocumented migrants from that country has been a festering issue in the state. This led to update of the National Register of Citizens, currently underway.

Also Read: Assam: Since 1985, Ex-Parte Tribunal Orders Have Declared Almost 64,000 People as Foreigners

In March, then union home minister Rajnath Singh inaugurated a CIBMS module along a 61 km stretch in the state’s Dhubri district. He told reporters that the BOLD-QIT (Border Electronically Dominated QRT Interception Technique) launched on that border “will equip the unfenced areas along the riverine border with sensors, enabling the troops to take prompt action against intrusion.”

The All Assam Students Union (AASU), which spearheaded the anti-foreigner agitation in the state between 1979 and 1985, is, however, not too impressed by this move by the Narendra Modi government. On June 5, speaking to The Wire in Guwahati, AASU advisor Samujjal Bhattacharya said, “Technology can’t fully stop illegal migration on the riverine border. What is required is a physical barrier. If the government can think of building pillars in the middle of the Brahmaputra, why can’t it do the same on the border?”

G. Kishan Reddy. Photo: Screegrab via PTI

No accurate data

The MoS, however, stated that the government has no accurate data on the number of “such illegal immigrants” entering the country.

Kachhadiya also asked if the Centre has “any inputs suggesting that due to such infiltration, an unfavourable impact has been made on the demography of that area and if so, the details in respect of north-eastern states, state-wise.” Reddy replied, “There is no accurate central data regarding exact number of such illegal immigrants and any demographic change in the north eastern states.”

This is important because several Assam BJP leaders like Himanta Biswa Sarma have said that “migration of Muslims from Bangladesh” has led to a demographic change in the state. Using this bogey, the saffron party’s leaders have tried to nudge the majority Assamese community towards supporting the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill. Introduced by the Modi government in 2016, Sarma said the Bill would “protect their (Assamese) identity”. The minister of state for home, however, has said the Centre has no accurate data to confirm such a claim.

Also Read: In Assam, Rising Share of Bengali Speakers Doesn’t Necessarily Point to ‘Infiltration’

Reddy also said that the Centre has already issued instructions to all state and union territories to ensure that no Aadhaar card is “issued to illegal migrants” and also to “cancel other state level identification documents fraudulently obtained by illegal migrants, such as, voter card, driving license, ration card, etc. and initiate deportation proceedings as per the provisions of law.”

In the Guise of Protest Music, Assamese Artists Churn out Hate Speech

Many popular songs have references to violence and blame “immigrants” for a range of Assam’s problems.

The protest against the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill 2016 (CAB) in Northeast India, particularly from popular artists, remains conveniently ignored and even accepted, despite their overarching xenophobic content.

There is a social economy that maintains and even promotes this popular culture, materially and culturally. Assam’s popular culture affirms responsibility to its elite by singing the exact verses of untruth and bigotry that it wants to hear.

In this article, we argue that popular culture in Assam has largely given impetus to xenophobic voices of a variety, adding to social distinction by reinforcing discourses and imageries of segregation with and without CAB.

Popular mediums of expression leave long-lasting imprints and are elastic in nature. In the case of Assam, xenophobic statements are passed down as acceptable beats, to be consumed and shared. Take for instance, the rap song ‘Bangladeshi’ which effortlessly announces:

axomote aani bule bhorabo bidexi
tuli lau jodi hengdang
dangi theng, ari lungi polabo bangladeshi

(Foreigners maybe brought and filled up in Assam
If we pick up our hengdang (sword),
the Bangladeshi will run lifting their legs, leaving their lungi)

It declares that each of us, perhaps Assamese, owns a sharp sword and can be used to cut a ‘Bangladeshi’. It goes on to use Lachit Borphukan, the 17th century Ahom general who fought against the Mughals, to invoke strength, patriotism and valor by referring to his blood.

The song continues:

atithi bhogaban amar karone
kintu bahiragotok mar dhai dhai
kati korim duseu jodi uthey prosno
aai matrir astitva uporot
xokolu ghorote ase toruwal
ase dhar, ase kar mor-har
pahuwal asomiya ulai aah
koru aami luit roktakto

(The guest is godlike for us
But beat up the foreigner repeatedly
We will cut them into half if question arises
of the existence of motherland
Every house has a sword
It is sharp, whoever has the courage to die,
Come out, you brave Asomiyas,
Let us make the Luit red.)

In an attempt to eradicate the ‘Bangladeshi’, it calls out the young Assamese and to turn the river Lohit red with blood.

Nancy S. Love, who has written on white power music in America, considers compositions as hate music if they are ‘overtly racist and/ or ultranationalist’ and are ‘directly associated with violence towards historically oppressed groups’.

Bangladeshi’, as a composition, not only fulfills both criteria, but the impunity with which such forms of hate music perpetuate in Assam reveals the apparent complicity of its civil society towards expressions of hatred and xenophobia.

Also Read: The Soundtrack of the Sixties Demanded Respect, Justice and Equality

Such a popular culture serves ruling class politics by disseminating a monolithic Assamese identity which can only be identified by use of the symbols of Lachit Borphukan and the gamusa (an Assamese attire). To “save one’s motherland” and create an enemy out of a “Bangaldeshi”, it creates a homogenous Assamese identity, destroying plurality and all other forms and issues of resistance.

Yet another rap song that became immensely popular was penned by Rahul Rajkhowa. Apart from making some rightful noises about miners in Meghalaya and the divisive policy of the ruling party, he enters a territory which thrives on untruth and false claims. In one breath, he claims that unemployment, erosion and man-elephant conflict is caused by immigration.

The song claims as follows:

And now you want new immigrants to be a part of this,
to be a part of this?
Poaching, no jobs, a result of this.
Deforestation, erosion, result of this.
Man-eliphant conflict, result of this…

Is this not hate speech? Rajkhowa’s composition is built upon a narrative of vulnerability where ‘immigrants’ are perceived to be responsible for a spectrum of Assam’s problems that range from economy to ecology. Artists like Rajkhowa only give impetus to such discrimination and marginalisation, and in the process, subvert the rationale of protest music. Yet, it is looked at as a shining light, reported as a voice of resistance.

Many of these songs are modeled on a hip hop rhythm and almost all of them invoke folk elements by drawing from the cultural repertoire of Assam. The former developed as a dissent against racism and disenfranchisement that was articulated by vulnerable minorities in New York. Similarly, folk music represents juxtaposition against commercially sustained meta-cultural narratives. Despite this, popular culture in Assam has shown a surprising capability to turn such genres on their head and co-opt protest music for furthering xenophobic political projects.

Also Read: In Assamese Singer’s Protest, a Sign That BJP’s Politics in Assam Has Run Aground

A closer observation of the musicians reveals that their nature of engagement is more apparent than substantive. In fact, many of these compositions are deeply depoliticising for such forms of music. On one hand, they cast an indiscriminate cynicism over politics/politicians and then provoke forms of responses that defy the minimum benchmarks of democracy, equality and justness.

In a song ‘O Aai (Hey Mother) by local band Cultivators, the musician demonises politicians by building a provocative analogy with an unscrupulous trader who attempts to auction his mother’s tears. Here, the image of the mother is used to refer to Assam.

aair binoni aji
nilam koribo buli
itihaxe koi siyori

(That the cries of mother
shall be auctioned
History yells to say)

The song thereafter exhorts people to chase away the politician, in the guise of a trader, by picking up the hengdang.

O aai kokai bhai
haate haate dhori roi
boniyak khedu goi bol

[Oh mother and brother(s)
As we wait holding each others hands
Let us chase the traders (politicians)]

O aai kokai bhai
haate haate dhori roi
hengdang tulibo hol

[Oh mother and brother(s)
As we wait holding each others hands
It is time to lift the hengdang]

Popular culture in Assam has failed to shape any progressive political imaginations and rather, normalises reactionary forces. During the CAB protests, singer Zubeen Garg admonished politicians for misleading people in their lust for power and urged them not to play politics – ‘politics nokoriba bondhu’. Yet, it is the same singer who facilitated the inroad of Hindutva politics in Assam by invoking a familiar imagery involving Lachit Borphukan as he sang the BJP’s campaign song in 2016.

‘eikhone xekh ron xoraighatore’
‘axomor astitwa rakhibole’

(This is the last battle of Saraighat
To preserve the existence of Assam)

Zubeen Garg Credit: Twitter

One can see a generous use of Borphukan’s image and the sword (hengdang) to articulate conformity and protest. The reference to the battle of Saraighat, along with the other two, completes an ecology of caste Assamese politics that thrives on making the ‘outsider’ the “other”. Seemingly, these images and selective history are being used to both promote the BJP as well as to oppose them and the ideology they stand for.

We have had a group of musicians and cultural figures travelling across Assam in 1960 calling for peace in the face of “language riots”. We have also had Xur Bahini, led by Jayanta Hazarika, taking to the streets in 1977 to help flood victims. Jyoti Prasad Agarwala, a humanist and cultural icon from Assam, would have deemed such efforts as the soul of what music is all about – to create beauty and light among people and in society.

Also Read: On Assamese Cultural Icon’s Death Anniversary, BJP Pushes Communal Agenda

It is saddening to see that what is produced and consumed as ‘protest music’, and more so, the political literacy that artists in Assam hold and promote today, stands contrary to what Hemango Biswas and Jayanta Hazarika would have envisaged.

Suraj Gogoi is a doctoral candidate in sociology at the National University of Singapore and tweets @char_chapori. Abhinav P. Borbora is a political commentator based in Guwahati.

The Death of Amrit Das and the Search for Foreigners in Assam

Detention has become a default option in Assam.

Seventy-year-old Amrit Das died in a detention centre in a prison in Goalpara, Assam on April 6, 2019. Das was declared a foreigner on May 20, 2017 by a Foreigners Tribunal and sent to a detention centre.

His family observed his health deteriorate in front of their eyes. He developed asthma sleeping on the cold floor of the prison with inadequate access to healthcare. Das’s death is not the first inside a detention centre.

In May 2018, 38-year-old Subrata De died in the same detention centre. In October of the same year, 61-year-old Jobbar Ali died in another detention centre in Tezpur.

These deaths have turned the spotlight on a state-mandated system of indefinite immigration detention in Assam.

As on March 13, 2019, there are at least 938 individuals who are being detained for being foreigners in six detention centres housed inside prisons across Assam. Most of them do not know what the future holds. Some of them have appealed against official decisions deeming them as foreigners. Some have been in custody for many months, and some for years without access to parole.

Also read: On the NRC, Even the Supreme Court is Helpless

There is no statutory limit on the period of detention nor is detention periodically reviewed. These individuals are not segregated from convicts and undertrial prisoners within the prison. They have limited contact with their families. Such incarcerated individuals facing potential statelessness have to deal with anxiety, depression and failing health while in detention.

The Foreigners Act, 1946 under which these detainees are tried, provides for non-custodial alternatives such as requiring the person to reside in a particular place, imposing restrictions of movements, requiring the person to check in with authorities periodically, prohibiting the person from associating with certain people or engaging in certain activities.

Yet, detention has become a default option in Assam.

The process of declaring people as foreigners has accelerated since 2015 when 64 new Tribunals were set up. Out of a total of 468,934 referrals to the Tribunals between 1985 and 2016, 80,194 people were declared foreigners. This figure increased drastically in 2017, reaching 13,434 in just eleven months, averaging nearly 1221 every month.

The pressure is not just on Tribunal members, it is alleged to also be on the Border Police to find suspected foreigners. This has resulted in systematic abuse of individuals suspected to be illegal migrants, spreading panic and uncertainty.

Alongside the process of referring people to Foreigners Tribunals to prove their citizenship is the process of updating the National Register of Citizens (NRC). This process is being supervised by the Supreme Court. Forty lakh names were excluded from the first draft of the NRC. This has led to a climate of fear and stigmatisation.

There have been at least 23 instances of people taking their own lives for fear of losing their citizenship. This uncertainty has created a climate of fear where anyone who seems like an outsider is under suspicion. The anti-foreigner sentiment and xenophobia that remains central to the politics of Assam creates simplistic insider-outsider binaries, erasing a long and complicated history of borders, partition, migration and identity.

Citizenship and belonging have been long contested issues in Assam.

The Assam agitation that went on from 1979 to 1985 demanded detection of all foreigners, their deletion from the voters’ lists, and their deportation; 855 Assamese died in the agitation. The most violent manifestation of the agitation was the Nellie massacre on 18 February, 1983 when according to some accounts 3,000 people, mostly Muslim peasants of Bengali origin were attacked and killed. The agitation ended with the signing of the Assam Accord in 1985 which provided that all Bangladeshis who entered Assam after 1971 would be ‘expelled’.

The Accord also carved out special provisions to determine Indian citizenship applicable only to Assam. No state government including the one led by Prafulla Mahanta the leader of the Assam Agitation, has made a concerted effort to identify or expel these ‘illegal immigrants.’ The issue simmered for years and once again came to a boil in 2005 when Sarbananda Sonowal, the current chief minister of Assam challenged the Illegal Migrants (Determination by Tribunal) Act, 1983 before the Indian Supreme Court. The Act was struck down as being lenient on illegal immigrants.

Since then, Foreigners Tribunals determine the issue of citizenship under the Foreigners Act, 1946. The person accused of being a foreigner has to disprove that he is a foreigner unlike criminal statutes where the burden of proof is one the prosecution. Lawyers working on cases before Foreigners Tribunals in Assam say that as a result of the reversal of burden of proof, investigations have become shoddy and lackadaisical.

Once a person’s case is before the Foreigners Tribunal, they end up in a confusing labyrinth of documents and legal processes. The documents needed to prove citizenship need to be original or certified copies. Certified copies are issued by government offices and the process of getting them can take months. Clerical errors such as varying spellings in different documents or contradictions between answers given in cross-examinations and what is written in the documents are treated with suspicion.The process is biased and is divorced from the reality of documents in India.

Also read: 31 Lakh People Left out of NRC Final Draft File Claims

Many Indians, especially those belonging to poor and marginalised communities, do not have identity documents that meet the rigorous standards of the Indian Evidence Act, to prove their citizenship.

Nearly 30% of the detainees in detention centres as on 4 February 2018 were declared foreigners in proceedings in ex-parte proceedings or proceedings in their absence. Many such persons fail to appear before the Tribunal because notice was not served on them properly. They invariably find out about the loss of their citizenship only when the police reach their doorstep to arrest them and take them into custody.

Although the proceedings under the Foreigners Act are not criminal as per the Act itself, the consequences for persons declared as foreigners are loss of liberty and deportation.

The stigmatisation, harassment and abuse of people, whom a certain group thinks should not be in the NRC list within the tribunals, inside prisons or outside of it is a dangerous template. It is similar to the one used in Assam during the agitation years of 1979 to 1985. It encourages xenophobia and creates a climate of impunity for discriminatory acts. It has also allowed political parties to easily polarise the Assamese population on the grounds of religion and dehumanise immigrants with the usage of pejorative descriptors like ‘termites’.

Amrit Das’s death just a few days before Assam goes to the polls on April 11, brings into sharp focus the tragic consequences of the narrative of intolerance that frames Bangladeshi immigrants as dangerous and parasitic. The Supreme Court in the course of hearing a public interest litigation on humane treatment inside detention centres has asked the Assam government to inform it of ways to release those being held in detention for prolonged periods.

It is too late for Amrit Das but it is a ray for other detainees.

On February 9, 1983, a few days before the Nellie massacre, in an editorial in Saptahik Janakranti, an Assamese weekly, journalist Homen Burgohain underlined how different elements in Assamese society were opposed to the unity and merger between societies and cultures and all they wanted were alienation, hatred and hostility. His words ring true in 2019 as well.

Arijit Sen is a journalist and Fellow at Centre For Contemporary South Asia, Brown University. Leah Verghese is a Fulbright Scholar and legal researcher.

Debate: Ignoring Assam’s Colonial Past While Discussing NRC Is Academic Escapism

The seeds of present tensions and conflicts – recently exploding into a tumultuous movement against the Citizenship Act Amendment Bill – had been sown deliberately in colonial times.

It is a pity that some people are going all-out to dismiss the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam with thin arguments, apparently armed with selective history and socio-economic criteria divorced from the concrete social and political history of India’s Northeast.

Western liberal theories must not be borrowed for application in a decontextualised manner to explain issues of the Indian Subcontinent, and, specifically, those of the Northeast. A tactical ploy colouring this kind of narrative is a flat denial of the role of colonialism in shaping the circumstances that still keep the region subject to periodic convulsions. Any serious student who has closely studied the problems of this region realises that the seeds of the present tensions and conflicts – recently exploding into a tumultuous, region-wide movement against the Citizenship Act Amendment Bill – had been sown in colonial times deliberately, and aggravated by other, later factors; they are becoming almost intractable.

The only way out of this menacing situation is for all parties to sit together and negotiate a viable democratic solution to the complex problem – perhaps to be implemented in phases. Completion of the NRC could be part of it. Otherwise, as I have pointed out many times, the region will be caught up in an unending series of bitter and bloody conflicts leading to periodic massacres and human tragedies. This is bound to involve concessions and compromises. Any approach leaving the solution to armed intervention by the state or some future ‘revolutionary’ regime will be tantamount to arrant cynicism.

This necessarily includes the perception that unresolved questions for the region are part of the can of worms we have inherited. Using lofty academic condescension to dismiss them as garbage will only betray a lack of maturity in handling complex socio-political issues. I feel compelled to add that the current concerted move in certain academic circles to erase colonialism from the consciousness of the people in dependent countries appears to me a part of a global plan to obscure the neo-colonial role of world capital today. Furthermore, we can only overcome this lethal legacy with a ceaseless struggle to spread and deepen democratic ideas and values – both in social movements and academic culture.

Also read: Debate: Professor Hiren Gohain, Let’s Talk About Assam Again

True, such nations or nationalities also bear within them elements of class conflict and various other forms of social oppression, but these cannot be overcome in a vacuum without coming to terms with national questions. It is one thing to prescribe programmes for the oppressed from a safe academic distance and quite another to work them out in close touch with those in the throes of democratic social movements in concrete situations.

Let me give here a brief resume of the salient facts I have treated elsewhere in greater detail. In the early decades of the nineteenth century, the British seized the kingdom of Assam from Burma (present-day Myanmar),which had occupied it following a devastating civil war. They also invaded and occupied various  other adjacent kingdoms and hill-tracts inhabited by free tribes, and joined them together to form the province of Assam under the colonial Indian Empire. There was no logical historical rationale for this political arrangement except the convenience of colonial exploitation of resources of the region and an administrative arrangement suited to that end.

In order to facilitate the processes of exploitation, immense numbers of people were imported within a few decades as labour for colonial plantations, farmers for revenue exploitation and assistants for clerical and technical work. Migration continued even after needs of colonial rulers had been met and the number of immigrants rose to be equal to, if not larger than, that of the indigenous people.

The migrants found in Assam tribal groups used to primitive shifting cultivation across extensive fertile areas to sustain their livelihood, and subsistence peasants pauperised by colonial rack-renting, becoming landless due to heavy indebtedness. Some were tempted to take advantage of their weakness. And, of course, there was not the least bit of concern on part of the colonial rulers regarding whether this demographic imposition might lead to future conflicts and complications. The irony is that neither the indigenes nor the immigrants have ever questioned the role of colonialism in bringing them to this kind of impasse.

At various stages of social development, those various groups of new settlers remained apart from natives and seldom thought of building bridges with them – with some exceptions. Passive objects of colonial policy, they remained content to function within the security of colonial rule and law. Among them, Bengali Hindus were ahead of the others in their adaptation to modernity and development of national identity. They were conscious of their advantage and treated the local people with some hauteur.

Again, there were exceptions. Bengali Muslim peasants remained largely outside the process of the development of Bengali national consciousness and, from the 1920s to the 1940s, got drawn into the mass assertion of a separate Muslim identity and demanded the merger of Assam with the proposed state of Pakistan. While driven by desperately poor landless peasants’ desire for land, this call for Pakistan greatly alarmed the natives of different communities. Suspicions against immigrant Muslims lingered long afterwards, even triggering sporadic violence against them in Kamrup district in the early 1950s.

Also read: Debate: Colonial Policy Created the Northeast’s Citizenship Problem

A fairly long process of negotiation between their leaders and the Assamese leaders gradually reduced tensions, especially after they accepted Assamese as the medium of instruction in new schools founded by them and agreed to declare Assamese as their mother tongue in censuses. However, unfair it sounds, it was the only way to overcome obstinate prejudice and carry on with normal life. There are today prosperous farmers, businessmen, government officers, lawyers and doctors among them and many have become known writers in Assamese.

Even so, some Assamese chauvinists still voice alarmist fears about their role from time to time, especially since the Assam Movement, when the RSS surreptitiously entered public life and discourse in Assam. This is very much a colonial legacy and it is still bedeviling our social and political life, which is more than a sum of class and caste factors. There had been friction with Bengali Hindus, with its own unpleasant aspects, on the question of language too. But it weakened after Assamese became the official language of the state, with Bengali as an associate official language in Barak valley in 1960. People moved on.

It needs to be recalled that, on this issue, the Bengali immigrant Muslims sided wholeheartedly with the Assamese. The Assamese middle class played the leading part in all these events. The  Assam Movement, which dragged on for six years and was covertly manipulated by RSS elements stoking old prejudices into burning hatred, led to recurrent violence – reaching an horrific climax at Nellie. The immigrant Muslims were so scarred by such events that they refused to accept the Assam Accord, which set the date to determine citizenship on March 25, 1971. But the mutual suspicion and hostility led to a complete breakdown of the social contract and the situation was further aggravated by the rise and spread of insurgency as well as the ham-handed military response to it by the state.

There was such an atmosphere of insecurity and unrest – punctuated by uncontrolled eruptions of violence and consequent tragedies – that normal life was becoming impossible. At that moment, saner political elements from all native communities and civil society activists came together on a platform for the restoration of peace and normalcy; and influential Muslim clerical leaders came on board and firmly committed themselves to the Assam Accord and its cut-off date falling in 1971. Things gradually improved and peace returned to the land after nearly 20 years. T

he demand for an NRC settling once for all the vexed issue of citizenship was then accepted by all, with the exception of some die-hards. Hence, the NRC is not some vicious plot against people of immigrant origin, though the BJP and the RSS have lately been hard at work to make it just that.

Questions have been raised about the class interests of the regionally dominant middle class – and justly so. In this connection, a remark of mine on its role as the Centre’s agent in suppressing aspirations of smaller and weaker ethnic groups and nationalities has been quoted from an article of mine published in 1981. However, it is on record that I revised my views by 1982 sufficiently to consider the Assamese themselves as victims of the Centre’s policies, adopted in the interest of Indian ruling classes (see Assam, A Burning Question, Guwahati, 1984).

Instead of real economic development for people racked by colonial plunder, after independence too, they had been fobbed off with short-term benefits and the lure of power. The colonial pattern of plunder and dependency characterises its economy even today, with the successor state and Indian ruling classes more or less playing roles similar to those of colonial rulers.

This is not to deny its own oppressive role, which has now been weakened considerably by tribal resistance – with the Centre sometimes playing the honest broker. In this complex situation, greater and wider extension of democracy through tough negotiations appears to be the only fruitful approach as the alternative to protracted and wasteful violence. The national question (also involving honest acceptance of the federal element in the constitution) thus casts its shadow, much as some people might like to wish it away by mouthing academic formulas.

Let us face it. Mindsets developed during that long colonial chapter in the country’s history not only fuel major communal and venomous narratives today, but are also haunting regional discourses and politics. The middle class is composed of both accomplices of this plunder and potentially democratic, deprived elements. In the absence of a powerful ideology making due allowance for national aspirations, the latter may become unwitting agents of fascist reaction.

Let me make it clear that the word ‘immigrant’ holds no toxic association for me, as it might for some. It simply encapsulates a political and social reality. Immigrants, over a long period of time, become natives – unless they resist this process consciously – while keeping some precious part of their own heritage intact. This has happened in India at large and also in Assam. But let me also call the unprejudiced reader’s attention to certain indisputable historical horrors.

The US was settled in by multitudes of Europeans, most of them wretchedly poor labourers and petty traders or craftsmen, fleeing exploitation and oppression at home. But in the process, they drove millions of native Americans out of their homeland; they pillaged and massacred them to near-extinction. The Americans took a long time to look this truth in the face. Meanwhile, those atrocities got covered up in rich folklore about the heroic endurance, sacrifice, courage, hard work and incessant vigil against ‘savages’. In our student days, we used to lap all this up as legends of the Frontier and the staple of popular ‘Western’ films glorifying the shooting down of ‘red Indians’ by the dozen.

In Israel, you have another example of poor and persecuted refugees and migrants from Europe turning on native Arabs – who in 1935 formed over 75% of the population of Palestine – and ruthlessly driving millions of them out of their ancient homeland with unbridled terror. That these migrants included some fervent socialists made no difference. Hence, let us not give unqualified and unconditional support to all migrants. Let us also not forget that the Bengali peasants had been the wretched victims of ruthless Zamindari exploitation under colonial laws and were exploding into unrest when the wily colonial rulers found a safety valve for maintaining their rule by opening the doors to Assam.

Hindus from Bangladesh had later entered Assam as refugees – again as a result of the partition of the country, masterminded by colonial rulers. In our time, millions of Syrian refugees have sought shelter in Europe, wrenched out of their beloved hearths and homes by the continuation of Western colonial politics under the guise of extending the blessings of democracy.

I am sorry if I cannot find sober, sanitised academic words for such horrors. A compassionate but careful approach to the complex, fraught issues left behind by colonialism and ignored by Indian rulers is therefore indispensable for resolving them. The development of a national (some choose to call it sub-national) consciousness and outlook in Assam took place in a colonial environment and consequently lacked the power to fulfil its aspirations for all-round growth out of the morass of colonial poverty and under-development.

That is the reason why the Assamese middle class enthusiastically joined the Indian freedom movement and hoped to acquire through it the power and resources to build a strong and healthy nation in their homeland. Middle class leaders did go down to the villages and, by the 1920s, organised peasant masses into a pulsating mass movement. But thanks to wily British manipulations, Congress leaders got distracted into rivalries with Bengali Hindus and challenges from Muslim communal politics. They spent more time consumed with these intrigues than in alleviating the misery of the masses.

Colonial constitutional reform afforded little scope for it. In the years after independence, there were initially sincere efforts to build a base for future development covering all sections of society – benefits of education were spread to different backward regions and medical and engineering colleges were built to train the youth for the task of national reconstruction. But the state government’s resources were small. Tea gardens did not pay income-tax and gave sales-tax to West Bengal because auctions took place in Kolkata. Oil was taken over by the Centre as early as 1948 and, for decades, Assam reaped little financial reward for oil extracted from its soil.

Then corruption began to drain away much of what came by way of plan money, and the Assamese middle class grew rich on it while starting to neglect the rural poor and the tribals. However, the lower middle class still projected less complacent and popular democratic ideals.

In my opinion, the concentration of planning and decision-making in Delhi harmed regions like Assam. The number of MPs it sent was too small to influence major policy decisions. And the business class from outside the state used development schemes in the state to their own advantage – sharing a fraction of the excess profit with the middle class. The poor and the tribals were gradually left in the lurch while a section of the enterprising, hard-working immigrant Muslims made the best of the new economic opportunities to improve their conditions without any assistance from the government.

A striking event in 1957 should open the eyes of neutral observers to the nature of the situation. Under the leadership of socialists and communists, with covert support of the state government, a mass movement was organised – with tremendous popular participation – to force the Centre to build an oil refinery in Assam, which then accounted for the bulk of the oil produced in India. The people themselves had to compel the Centre to take a small step in starting modern industry in Assam and train local youth in the necessary skills for such work.

Thus, the environment became inimical to the development of a modern economic outlook and common people began to depend more and more on government doles and leftovers from the general loot. A telltale example was plunder from so-called flood protection. Hundreds of kilometres of embankments were built with sub-standard materials and utter lack of proper scientific planning, leading to annual increases in flood ravages and loss of land, which was the sole support for sustenance of the rural population and unearned income for contractors, engineers and politicians.

Such a situation could have been avoided had the state government been left with resources and power to take policy decisions for development. In the meantime, the Congress had become a highly centralised party in which regional forces had little weight. When regional forces held power in the state, they too were soon co-opted into the structure of power that decided allocation of resources and access to wealth.

In this colonial-type situation, the common people could not depend on their own initiative and became utterly dependent on the government. Control of the government became the major contentious issue for communities and sectarian ideas, instead of democratic ones, struck deep roots – leaving a fertile soil for varieties of chauvinism. One fears the same scene is being played out in tribal-dominated states to the ultimate distress of the common people.

However, it is an idle hope to pin one’s faith solely on class-based struggles and junk the national question. It is a necessary phase to settle it on the basis of ideas of social justice and widening of democracy. As we have seen, powerful all-India reactionary forces can intervene to spread discord and disorder to undermine this vital project. Scuttling the NRC under the cover of promoting subaltern classes and caste interests will, I repeat, drown the whole region in endless internecine conflict and lead to its engulfment by dark reactionary forces.

Regional chauvinism has no problem in ganging up with bigger national forces that now assist ruthless corporate power. Democracy and social justice must be the main parts of our agenda today. Nationalism will remain relevant as long as neo-colonial onslaughts on the world’s poorer and backward peoples continue. The national question remains essential for unlocking progressive forces embedded in the people, provided democratic understanding and tolerance are accepted as proper conditions for success of the enterprise.

Hiren Gohain is a Guwahati-based scholar and intellectual.