More brinkmanship on our borders

The Himalaya has come to us with a question — in the form of Sonam Wangchuk. Old by our standards, it’s still young in mountain-years — a mere 50 million. This young-old giant asks: do you really think I’m just a pile of rocks and rubble? Do you ever stop to hear my voice, to feel the pain of this sentry you take for granted? You may once in a while toss some coins at me, but do you think my care is so cheap? You want to tell me about ‘development’? Do you even know the difference between development and destruction?

To tell the truth, it isn’t even asking. Like a figure out of our own mythology, the Himalaya has come to warn us, to knock on the door of our collective conscience.

Sonam Wangchuk is no ordinary man. He’s not just the inspiration behind Aamir Khan’s character in 3 Idiots. Nor just a pioneering educationist. Nor only an engineer-innovator of radical new technologies. Nor even just the activist raising his community’s demands. Wangchuk is a visionary of alternative development, a scientist of re-creation, so to speak. Sonam Wangchuk is India’s pride, Ladakh’s own Gandhi.

It is this very Sonam Wangchuk who confronts us with an issue that is larger than himself. Both the apex bodies of Ladakh — the Leh Apex Body (LAB) and the Kargil Democratic Alliance (KDA) — stand behind it. This is not one man’s concern; it is the concern of the whole of Ladakh. Every political party in Ladakh has supported these demands. Even the BJP promised it in its manifesto.

Today, therefore, Leh’s Buddhist community and Kargil’s Muslim community stand shoulder to shoulder. Ladakh is clearly, unitedly, resolutely saying: no Sonam Wangchuk, no dialogue with Delhi.

Why a loyalty test for Ladakh?

When Article 370 was scrapped, the people of Ladakh thought they were finally free of Kashmir’s grip on their affairs, that they would now be free to chart their own destiny. That is why Wangchuk, in good faith, welcomed the move and even congratulated Prime Minister Modi. But in the six years since, Delhi has betrayed Ladakh’s aspirations. Leave alone statehood, it doesn’t even have an elected UT Assembly along the lines of Puducherry.

So, once they were free of the cold indifference of Srinagar, Ladakhis found themselves trapped in Delhi’s colonial chokehold. When Ladakh asks for democracy, Delhi throws money at them. When its youth ask for jobs, the government recites a laundry list of schemes.

The Himalaya insists: even if you ignore their other demands, what possible objection can there be to bringing Ladakh under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution? That provision empowers the Centre to set up autonomous councils in tribal areas, and grants elected local representatives the power and freedom to regulate their cultural affairs and the use of natural resources without outside interference.

In Assam, the Bodo and Karbi Anglong councils function on these lines. If extended to Ladakh, the tribal communities there too would get their own autonomous councils, reducing tensions between groups. The danger of outsiders grabbing their resources would recede.

But Delhi has been stonewalling these demands — and Ladakh’s suspicion has grown. The people of Ladakh are wondering if Delhi is preparing to hand over their land to big corporations. Lurking behind the façade of the Centre’s development rhetoric, Ladakhis see imminent dispossession and destruction.

Govt showing colonial mindset in Leh: Prashant Bhushan, Yogendra Yadav

The Himalaya leans in to ask: will you admit that Ladakh’s gentle insistence over the past six years is a model of non-violent protest? The people of Ladakh submitted memorandums, held sit-in demonstrations in minus 20 degrees, went on indefinite fasts, marched a thousand kilometres from Leh to Delhi. And yet the government did not stir, testing Ladakh’s patience, as if waiting for it to snap, so it could pounce on the opportunity.

The surprise is not that a handful of young men lost control — the real surprise is that the movement stayed non-violent for six long years. And we should bow our heads to the leadership that condemned violence and had the courage to suspend the agitation.

The Himalaya laughs at our stony eyes. To accuse Sonam Wangchuk of inciting violence, with not even a shred of video evidence, would be laughable if it weren’t so outrageous. The Ladakhis, who fought in the Indian Army in Kargil and in every clash with China, cannot be called traitors!

Quit worrying about my safety, the Himalaya says; worry about the nation’s. How long will you keep treating yourself as the landlord of this country, and everyone else as pesky tenants? First Kashmir, then Punjab, then Manipur, and now Ladakh — how many borderlands will you turn into alienated outposts? How many sentinels of the nation will you brand as its enemies?

The Himalaya has seen it all, and those who do not heed its words are doomed to face its wrath.

Translated from the Hindi original

Yogendra Yadav is a political activist and long-time psephologist. More of his writing may be read here