Any community that fails to strengthen itself economically and intellectually over time is destined to be swept away by the current of history – Himangshu Ranjan Bhuyan
The most complex, sensitive, and decisive issue in the contemporary social life of Assam is the rapid transformation of its demographic structure and the existential crisis it has created for the indigenous population. When, within a specific geographical boundary and over a certain period of time, the fundamental composition of the population undergoes drastic and abnormal change, it is not merely the official statistics of that region that are altered; rather, the politics, economy, society, and overall cultural environment of the place undergo profound transformation as well. In the case of Assam, this change is neither an accidental calamity nor a miraculous event that occurred overnight; it is the outcome of a long historical and political process that has now reached a terrifying and irreversible turning point. If we continue to be guided solely by emotion—taking to the streets in protest or venting anger on social media—we will fail to penetrate the depths of the problem. To truly understand how demographic change will determine the future of the Assamese people, it is essential to analyse, with utmost rigour and dispassionate realism, the equations involving numbers, economic forces, land ownership, and political power.
Assam’s fertile land and abundant natural resources have attracted people across the ages, yet in recent decades the character, intensity, and scale of this migration have assumed an abnormal form, giving rise to a deep and rational apprehension in the minds of the indigenous people regarding their future. This fear is not merely about identity; it is the fear of becoming strangers in one’s own home.
If we realistically analyse the primary causes behind this rapid demographic transformation in Assam, we find that it is inseparably linked to our economic weakness, our tendency towards laziness, and our complete lack of control over the labour market. This process, which began during British rule, later acquired a terrifying dimension due to political patronage extended for vote-bank interests and the continuous influx of people from across the border, resembling a flood of rising water. However, blaming only the government or politicians will not reveal the true depth of the problem. The agricultural economy, which once formed the backbone of Assamese society, gradually developed cracks when we began to forget the dignity of physical labour and started looking down upon hard work. As indigenous people abandoned the fields, left the muddy waters behind, and turned towards urban life or chased government jobs, the vast vacuum created in the rural economy was naturally filled by a cheaper and more hard-working class of labourers from outside. There is a simple and ruthless law of economics: where there is demand, supply will inevitably follow. Just as nature abhors a vacuum, so does the economy. The people who arrived to fill the shortage of labour in Assam’s agriculture, construction, and small business sectors did not remain mere labourers; gradually, through the earnings from their labour, they began to establish ownership over land. On the fertile sar (riverine) lands or on plots abandoned by indigenous people, these hard-working individuals produced crops at a rate that the accustomed-to-comfort indigenous farmers could not match. As a result, in economic competition, the lagging indigenous population began to contemplate selling their land and seeking shelter in rented urban accommodations or elsewhere. Thus, with the transfer of land ownership from one community to another, demographic change acquired a permanent character.
A close and honest examination of Assam’s present market system and economic scenario reveals a deeply disappointing picture. From vegetable and fish-meat markets to masonry, carpentry, salons, garages, and even small roadside shops—almost every sector is now dominated by a particular community. This is not a conspiracy; it is the reality of market economics. The community that can provide labour and conduct business at lower margins naturally captures the market. Yet the long-term consequence falls upon demography. When economic power concentrates in the hands of a particular group, their social expansion grows alongside their population increase. When an indigenous Assamese youth sleeps until ten in the morning or hesitates to undertake even slightly strenuous work, people from outside rise at four in the morning, work hard, and build their future. With this economic strength, they not only sustain their own families but also enable ten others from their community to settle here. In this manner, a network is formed that accelerates demographic change. Today, purchasing even a small plot of land or building a house in a city like Guwahati has become a distant dream for an average middle-class indigenous Assamese, whereas many individuals rising from the labouring class have easily acquired such assets.
A community that becomes economically marginalised can never preserve its language or culture through mere emotional nationalism. Without money in the pocket and without ownership over the land that feeds the stomach, emotional patriotism cannot provide protection for long.
In a democratic system, numbers constitute the greatest and most decisive force. Demographic change in Assam is steadily and surely removing the key to political power from the hands of the indigenous people. An analysis of election results and voting trends shows that in many constituencies of Assam, decisive roles are now played by people whose ancestors may have arrived in this land only a few decades ago. When the majority of voters in a constituency belong to a particular community or religion, political parties—even those claiming to be nationalist—are compelled to protect the interests of that community and appease them. As a consequence, issues concerning the indigenous population, the protection of language and culture, and the preservation of heritage become secondary. Although efforts have been made through the recent delimitation process to safeguard the political rights of the indigenous people, there remains serious doubt about how effective such administrative measures will prove in the long term. This is because the difference in population growth rates is glaringly obvious. If one community’s population grows geometrically while another’s remains stagnant or declines, then within ten or twenty years the electoral map will inevitably change again. At that point, no legal safeguard or delimitation exercise may be able to provide political security to the indigenous population. The example of Tripura stands vividly before our eyes, where demographic change reduced the indigenous tribal communities to a minority in their own land and pushed them far away from political power. If a similar situation arises in Assam, there can be no doubt that the future of the Assamese language and culture will become bleak. Politics is a game of probabilities, and probability always favours the majority.
The relationship between Assam’s land problem and demographic change is extremely intimate, complex, and painful. The loss of land ownership from the hands of the indigenous people means the removal of the very ground beneath the feet of the community. The problem is not limited to encroachments on reserved forests, xatra (monastic) lands, or government khas (government-owned) land; the problem runs much deeper. The real issue is the growing tendency among indigenous people to voluntarily sell their ancestral property to outsiders. Driven by the hope of immediate financial gain, inability to cultivate, or inability to meet medical expenses, many Assamese have sold their land. Who purchases it? Those who have accumulated money through relentless hard work. Today, in many villages and regions of Assam where only indigenous people once resided, the demographic composition has changed. Observing who owns flats and land in major cities, including Guwahati, provides a clear indication of the future. Land is not merely a place to stay; it is the primary source of economic production. When a community loses control over the sources of production, it becomes dependent. This dependency renders the community spineless.
The reluctance of Assamese youth to adopt cooperative farming or modern agricultural practices in rural areas, along with their waning attachment to land, is accelerating demographic change. If we truly wish to halt demographic transformation today, merely enacting laws to protect land will not suffice. Transactions continue to evade legal restrictions. What is required is to enhance the economic capacity of the Assamese people so that they do not fall into situations where they are forced to sell land.
The future of language and culture is directly connected to demographic change, because for a language to survive, the number of its speakers and its economic prestige must remain strong. Recent census data have already shown that the percentage of Assamese speakers in Assam is steadily and alarmingly declining, while the proportion of Bengali and other language speakers is rapidly increasing. As demographics change, in many parts of Assam the Assamese language is now reduced from being a language of communication to merely an official or community-specific language. Especially in Lower and Central Assam, the use of Assamese has diminished significantly in markets, roadsides, and places of public gathering. More seriously, when Assamese people become a minority in an area, they are compelled—either by social pressure or business necessity—to adopt another language. This linguistic aggression does not merely alter words or grammar; it engulfs the thought patterns and cultural identity of an entire people. Xatriya culture, Bihu, and other indigenous traditions will remain secure only when those who practise them constitute the majority. Demographic change has indeed given birth to a mixed or hybrid culture, but how strong the main current of Assamese identity will remain within that mixture is a major question. If we remain merely emotional and speak only of the glory of the language without increasing its practical utility, it cannot be denied that under demographic pressure the Assamese language may gradually become nearly extinct.
What the future Assamese society will look like depends entirely upon the resolute steps we take today. If the current pace of demographic change continues unchecked, there is a strong possibility that within the next two decades the Assamese people will become completely insignificant in their own land. It may still be possible for an Assamese individual to become Chief Minister, but that person may not be in a political position to protect indigenous interests. Participation of indigenous people in government jobs and business may become merely nominal. But is there a way to escape this dark future? Slogans, emotional speeches, street protests, and burning tyres will not stop this statistical storm. What is needed is a well-considered, scientific, and rigorously realistic course of action.
First, the Assamese people must abandon the lure of a luxurious lifestyle and cultivate a culture of hard work. As long as we remain dependent on outsiders for household work, farming, or small businesses, their advance will continue. Self-reliance is not merely the name of a government scheme; it must become the only mantra for a people’s survival.
Second, the government must adopt strict population control policies while simultaneously creating awareness among the public. Through improvements in education and health, population growth rates can be reduced—as has been proven in many countries around the world. Unless the light of education reaches those regions of Assam experiencing population explosion, the problem cannot be solved.
In conclusion, demographic change in Assam cannot be denied; it is a harsh and merciless reality. It has brought an existential crisis to the Assamese people—a crisis that no external force will resolve. Yet despair or purely emotional reactions will not provide a solution. We must understand that in the modern world, neither past glory nor tales of heroism can sustain a people. Any community that fails to strengthen itself economically and intellectually over time is destined to be swept away by the current of history.
If the Assamese people wish to survive in the future, they must re-establish their authority over their land, language, and economy. This will require a collective awakening—not merely political, but economic and cultural as well. If we stop selling our land, if we retain control over our markets, and if we develop our new generation into skilled human resources, then even if we lag in numbers, we may still maintain our dominance through quality and economic strength. History bears witness that numbers alone do not determine everything; small nations like Israel and small communities like the Parsis have secured their place in the world through intelligence, hard work, and unity.
The time has now come for introspection and for silently yet firmly strengthening our foundations. Whether the future of the Assamese people will be dark or bright will be determined by our actions today, our sacrifices, and our foresight.
(The author is the recipient of the ‘Yuba Lekhak Sanman - 2025’ from the Government of Assam. He can be reached at himangshur1989@gmail.com.