The Bill Pecks A Raw Wound

- Abdul Gani

ON a cool September morning, Dhanjeet Baishya went out to meet his friends in his village on the foothills of the eastern Himalayas close to the Indo-Bhutan border in Assam’s Udalguri district. That was the last time Sabitya Baishya saw her 24-year-old son. A few weeks ago, words reached the village that Dhanjit has joined the United Liberation Front of Asom-Independent (ULFA-I), waging an armed war for Assa m’s secession from India.

At the birthplace of the militant organisation in Tinsukia district, hundreds of miles east of Udalguri, ULFA commander-in-chief Paresh Barua’s nephew, Munna Barua, 24, also joined the outfit, this November. In between, at least 15 youngsters are confirmed to have joined the banned outfit and are now said to be in ULFA’s camps in Myanmar. Among these new recruits is a Class X student, Karishma Mech of Tinsukia district. There are unconfirmed reports of dozens of others joining ULFA, underscoring fears that the militant organisation, almost written offas dead and gone, is showing signs of revival. This also raised fears of renewed bloodshed in the state.

But beyond the all-too-familiar story of militancy in the Northeast lies what many believe to be the real reason for the renewed appeal of arms to the youth of Assam. “It’s only because of the Citizenship Amendment Bill,” says Anup Chetia, the general secretary of an ULFA faction which came ‘overground’ in 2015.

“The bill shouldn’t have been brought at all. They (government) didn’t respect the sentiments of the people. It’s already very late…,” Chetia adds. The contentious bill, tabled in Parliament by the BJP-led government in 2016, aims to ease the process of granting citizenship to non-Muslim migrants—from Afghanistan, Bangladesh and Pakistan—who came to India before December 31, 2014.