Order may be restored. But unless justice follows, the embers beneath the surface are unlikely to fade – Anita Verma
The burning of the house of Tuliram Ronghang and incidents of arson and attacks on police personnel in Karbi Anglong have rightly shocked the public conscience. Violence against the police or destruction of property cannot be justified under any circumstance. Such incidents point to a breakdown of order that deserves firm condemnation. At the same time, to view these events only as sudden eruptions of lawlessness is to overlook a far longer and quieter history of grievance that has been unfolding over decades.
The present unrest did not emerge overnight. It is the outcome of years, indeed decades... of accumulated anger, perceived betrayal, and constitutional assurances that many residents feel have remained unfulfilled in practice. When grievances persist unresolved for generations, they acquire a depth that cannot be addressed through temporary calm alone.
For generations, tribal communities in Karbi Anglong have raised a consistent concern... the protection of their land, forests, environment, and livelihoods under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution. These demands were not impulsive or unlawful. They were articulated through representations, memoranda, negotiations, protests, and sustained engagement with institutional processes. Faith in the system was repeatedly demonstrated, even when outcomes were slow to arrive.
What followed instead was delay... prolonged, repeated, and increasingly normalised. Files were moved, committees were formed, and discussions were held, yet outcomes remained elusive. Over time, delay ceased to appear exceptional and began to feel routine. When delay becomes institutionalised, it risks being experienced not as an administrative difficulty but as denial.
A Constitutional Promise, Reduced to Paper
The Sixth Schedule was never intended to be a symbolic provision. It was a constitutional safeguard crafted with foresight by Gopinath Bordoloi, a statesman who recognised that the tribal communities of the Northeast required more than formal inclusion. They needed real autonomy over land, culture, and resources in order to live with dignity within the Indian Union.
Karbi Anglong was granted Sixth Schedule status in law. Its lived enforcement, however, continues to be debated. Constitutional protections that do not consistently translate into ground-level authority tend to lose their reassuring force. Autonomy that exists largely in statute books, without corresponding control in daily governance, risks breeding frustration rather than confidence.
Over the years, this promise appears to have weakened gradually... sometimes quietly, sometimes through administrative convenience. While the Autonomous Council exists with defined legislative and executive powers, these are often constrained by financial dependence, delayed approvals, administrative overrides, and the presence of parallel authorities. Decision-making authority frequently remains fragmented, leaving local institutions accountable without being fully empowered.
The result is an autonomy that exists in form but struggles in function... an arrangement that satisfies constitutional text while falling short of constitutional intent.
Land, Forest, and the Cost of Uneven Governance
For tribal communities, land is not merely property. It is identity, inheritance, and survival. Forests are not simply economic assets; they are cultural, ecological, and spiritual lifelines that sustain entire ways of life.
Yet Karbi Anglong has witnessed continuing pressure on land and forests... through encroachments, environmental stress, and depletion of natural resources, despite long-standing demands for enforcement and protection. These concerns are not new. They have been articulated repeatedly over the years and form a central part of local discourse.
What deepens the sense of grievance is not loss alone, but the growing perception of uneven enforcement. When certain violations appear to persist without consequence, while expressions of protest attract swift administrative or police response, confidence in the neutrality of governance begins to erode. A democracy depends not only on the presence of law but also on the belief that law is applied consistently and without preference.
Environmental Law Forgotten on the Ground
India’s environmental jurisprudence is among the most developed in the world, grounded in principles of public trust, intergenerational equity, and precaution. These doctrines recognise that natural resources are held in trust for present and future generations and that irreversible harm must be prevented before it occurs.
On the ground in Karbi Anglong, however, communities observe a different reality. Hills appear altered, forests reduced, water sources stressed, and ecological balance disturbed... often without meaningful local participation or transparent processes. Environmental change unfolds gradually, but its impact is enduring.
For local communities, environmental degradation is not an abstract policy debate. It is displacement unfolding in slow motion. When environmental safeguards weaken, the protective intent of the Sixth Schedule weakens alongside them, leaving communities vulnerable on multiple fronts.
Cultural Erosion:
The Quiet Crisis
Land loss is visible. Cultural erosion is quieter and often more devastating.
As land fragments and economic control shifts, customary practices weaken, languages recede, and younger generations feel increasingly unanchored. Cultural continuity, once sustained through land and community, begins to fray. This erosion is not dramatic, but it is persistent.
This is precisely the future Bordoloi sought to prevent. Autonomy under the Sixth Schedule was meant to preserve continuity, protect identity, and allow communities to evolve on their own terms. When autonomy weakens, cultural erosion accelerates... not by force, but by attrition.
Development without Trust
Development is frequently presented as inevitable, necessary, and urgent. Yet development is never neutral. Its impact depends on how decisions are made, whose voices are heard, and who ultimately bears the cost.
When development proceeds without trust, transparency, or meaningful consent, it risks being perceived not as progress but as displacement framed as policy. Infrastructure alone cannot compensate for the loss of legitimacy. Sustainable development depends as much on inclusion and credibility as it does on investment and timelines.
The Police and the
Cost of Policy Failure
Violence against police personnel is unacceptable and must be condemned unequivocally. Officers injured in the line of duty are not abstract symbols ... they are individuals performing a difficult role under challenging circumstances.
At the same time, such incidents also reflect deeper stresses within society. Police officers often become the most visible representatives of a state that sections of the population experience as distant, inconsistent, or unresponsive. When long-standing policy failures accumulate without resolution, law enforcement is left to manage their consequences on the streets.
This places an unfair burden on those tasked with maintaining order, while the underlying causes remain insufficiently addressed.
What the Unrest Is Signalling
Beyond the immediate turmoil, a consistent pattern becomes visible: grievances raised through lawful means, assurances offered repeatedly, delays becoming routine, and trust eroding gradually.
This sequence does not indicate a rejection of the Constitution. Rather, it reflects an appeal for its faithful and consistent enforcement.
The Constitution has a long memory, even when political priorities shift.
The people of Karbi Anglong are not seeking privilege. They are seeking fidelity... to constitutional safeguards, to environmental protection, to cultural survival, and to commitments made in good faith. These are not unreasonable expectations; they are foundational to the constitutional framework itself.
As calm is gradually restored and administrative processes resume, the deeper challenge remains whether long-standing grievances will finally translate into timely, transparent, and credible action. Order can be restored through force and authority. Trust, however, can only be restored through consistency and justice. Karbi Anglong is watching. Assam is watching. History, too, has a way of remembering.
Order may be restored. But unless justice follows, the embers beneath the surface are unlikely to fade.
(The author can be reached atanna.verma@gmail.com)