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By:

Hridbina Chatterjee

29 August 2024 at 3:43:30 pm

The Northeast’s Fragile Lifeline

Violence and retaliatory blockades on the Assam–Meghalaya corridor show how quickly local grievances can become a regional economic crisis The equilibrium of Northeast India is frequently tested along its inter-state boundaries, but flashpoints that erupt on the streets of Shillong resonate far beyond mere physical lines on a map. When public demonstrations organized by local pressure groups deteriorate into targeted vandalism against out-of-state commercial vehicles, a localized...

The Northeast’s Fragile Lifeline

Violence and retaliatory blockades on the Assam–Meghalaya corridor show how quickly local grievances can become a regional economic crisis The equilibrium of Northeast India is frequently tested along its inter-state boundaries, but flashpoints that erupt on the streets of Shillong resonate far beyond mere physical lines on a map. When public demonstrations organized by local pressure groups deteriorate into targeted vandalism against out-of-state commercial vehicles, a localized law-and-order failure rapidly mutates into a regional economic crisis. The subsequent retaliatory blockades established by transport unions along the Guwahati-Shillong corridor - specifically at key transit points like Jorabat and Khanapara - effectively sever the vital lifeline connecting Assam to Meghalaya. This immediate disruption leaves hundreds of commuters, freight transporters, and everyday citizens stranded, exposing how quickly localized agitations can paralyze the primary commercial artery of the Khasi Hills. Underlying Grievances The complicated combination of socio-economic unrest, employment shortfalls, and ongoing arguments about identity and the rights of indigenous peoples is responsible for the ongoing disturbances. Pressure groups like the Khasi Students' Union have been pushing for reforms in the fields of governance and monitoring of how rules about residency are put into action, as well as insisting on the need for transparency in the hiring process at various government agencies like the Meghalaya Public Service Commission. These demands originate from the belief among the local youth that the presence of corruption in the system, the lack of any clarity in the administration, and various issues with employments deprives them of access to equal opportunities for earning. However, the moment the participants of the peaceful protests start using violence against workers from other ethnicities, and against vehicles from other states, the issue of governance reform is completely overshadowed by ethnic conflict, fears, and emergencies. Cascading Impact The financial damage from this round of hostilities is both immediate and devastating to Meghalaya's development efforts. The tourism industry is one of the key cogs in the state’s economy and provides jobs for taxi drivers, homestay hosts, tour guides, and micro-businesses in hospitality across the Khasi and Jaintia hills. The tripling of incidents of vehicle vandalism, along with the dissemination of video clips showing roadblocks and official warnings against traveling, leads to a rash of cancellations in hotels and discourages tourists. The process of regaining its reputation as a friendly and safe destination takes time and effort, and this reputation can be tarnished in a single day of disorder. When the interstate travel becomes a dangerous venture, the same communities that should benefit from the tourist inflow suffer. The Vulnerability of Inter-State Economic Interdependence Furthermore, the crisis points to the acute vulnerability of the overarching economic ecosystem that exists between Assam and Meghalaya. Neither state exists in isolation, with Assam being the main supplier of critical goods, oil and medical products that enter Meghalaya, while Meghalaya has essential trade routes and markets for businesses of the region. Through this interdependence between the two states in terms of supply and transportation, we see how this mutual benefit is exploited when members of transportation unions choose to impose retaliatory blockades based on vehicle registration plates. Those who suffer the most are the daily wage earners who are not part of the ongoing negotiations or student protests, and are being forced to keep waiting at the border. Reactive Governance The repeated occurrence of such border and transport crises points to a fundamental flaw in how regional conflicts are managed by political leadership. The standard administrative response of deploying security forces, enforcing temporary curfews, forming Special Investigation Teams, and scheduling high-level joint communiqués between Chief Ministers typically functions as a reactive fire-fighting measure rather than a preventative strategy. While top-tier political dialogue between Assam and Meghalaya is necessary to diffuse immediate tension, these high-level meetings rarely address the root causes of public anxiety or the operational gaps in ground-level policing along the National Highway 6 corridor. Without proactive, institutionalized conflict-resolution frameworks, state governments remain perpetually stuck in a loop of managing crises after the damage has already been done. Paving a Sustainable Path Toward Regional Stability Achieving enduring stability along the Assam-Meghalaya axis necessitates a twofold strategy based on effective governance and strict law enforcement. Firstly, the state government should take substantial steps to alleviate the grievances of young people by introducing credible, merit-based recruitment systems and ensuring the availability of employment options outside the public sector. Secondly, civil society organizations must understand that unleashing violence against the trade flow and innocent civilians adversely affects their political credibility. It is vital to treat the unimpeded movement of citizens and goods as a matter of legal obligation. Until both state authorities implement efficient procedures for the protection of transport routes and establish real dialog with all parties involved, the Guwahati-Shillong route will continue to be a source of instability. (The writer is a policy analyst with special focus on the Northeast, maritime security and the Indo-pacific. Views personal.)

Bharat’s Jetson Cities, Light-years Away from Nature

Updated: Jan 20, 2025

Jetson Cities

One thing is for certain: our Bharatiya cities, the big metros and towns, are fast becoming like the ‘Jetson’ cities. For those who are unaware of Jetson cities, these were first shown in the famous Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, the Jetsons, set in the 2100s, where cities are air-tight glass globules tethered to the ground, and the only way to get in and out are the flying cars. Yes, we, the city-dwellers, aspire to tall skyscrapers, spectacular bridges, world-class tunnels, swooshing metro trains, and we are building Jetson-like flying cars. A few HD drone images here and there, during the day and at night and around twilight, and we are content that our cities have become the cynosure of our own eyes. We want our cities to be brightly lit, with neon signs, laser shows, and large billboard videos. We would then fulfil our inner desire to have a city on par with Tokyo, New York, and Shanghai.


Our buildings, designed for the next 30 years, are well air-conditioned, shielding occupants from a soupy dust bowl of brown smog, soot, particulate matter, and fine dust. It is said that most new home buyers invest at least 10% of their property’s price in enhancing the interiors, soundproofing their homes, using air purifiers and conditioners, and disconnecting from the outside world for that much-needed solace. Indeed, large builders promote their projects as close to nature amidst tranquillity. However, there is always another builder eager to get one plot of land ahead of yours to enjoy that nature. To be truthful, access to nature now comes at a premium - even the skies.


Let’s assume the working-age population is occupied in the leisure of our Jetson cities, but how many of their young school and college-going kids have seen the long arm of the Milky Way galaxy from their cities? How many have witnessed a comet zooming by? How many know about endemic plants with medicinal properties? When did they last see a chirping house sparrow? How many know that the nearest sewage drain was once a freshwater stream? When did they last find their suburban beach prettier than the resort beaches of Maldives?


The intent to ask these questions is simple: Bharat is currently at a crossroads. Pundits are enthusiastic about a cultural renaissance on the horizon. Corporate leaders, on the other hand, want us to invest hundreds of hours each week to pay our dues to the growth of the national GDP. But no one asks, if a cultural renaissance is to occur, who will generate the new understandings and insights of nature that arise typically during such a period of human advancement? No one is actually asking, for whom are we building the nation if there is no time for children, or worse, if there is no time or intent to have children. In the process of growing rich, we are about to become old. By 2047, 65% of the population under the age of 35 will grow beyond 35 all at once, and we’d have an enormous population in advanced ages with a tapering young population, a graph that looks like a banyan tree. Unfortunately, that young population will have no access to the knowledge that nature has to offer, neither flora and fauna nor the seas and the skies.


Our urbane lifestyles need tempering. Such tempering can occur only if we ensure the revival of natural sciences during this period of cultural renaissance and nation-building. Let’s not rely solely on the educational system. With Indian Knowledge Systems, constructive changes are underway, and academic curricula are poised to improve for the greater good. However, true knowledge arises only when parents and grandparents introduce children to nature. Genuine understanding also develops from extracurricular activities in schools and colleges that encourage kids to observe, journal, and act on their discoveries. On the positive side, our country’s forest cover is increasing, as announced by the government. However, efforts must be made to ensure that every school or college, whether in Mumbai, Vijayawada, Gorakhpur, Ratlam, Thrissur, Bhuj, Faridabad, Imphal, Manali, Cuttack, or Ajmer, guarantees that their students are well aware of the endemic nature of their surroundings and are regularly observing and recording data on whatever interests them. Let kids observe rivers and understand the volume of water that flows through them. Let children learn about the decline of house sparrows in their cities and what steps should be taken to revive their populations. Let them study the bees in their nearby groves and recognise the vital role these bees play in nature.


Of course, you need to learn AI, robotics, fintech, the next generation of management courses, and all the engineering bells and whistles. However, we must not leave the next generation with inadequate comprehension and skills for understanding nature. We must ensure that nature conservation is not merely lip service or a tool for politicised green activists. This can be achieved if natural sciences are given the respect they deserve at the school, undergraduate, and postgraduate levels.


Indeed, I am a plebeian, and you might feel that you, too, could write a rant about the plight of our urban lives. Urban development and municipal experts have many solutions to propose, but few are willing to take action. However, that is not the issue I wish to highlight. I aim to illustrate a much larger concern—that Indian city dwellers are disoriented and devoid of nature, lacking a guiding star to lead them toward a brighter future. Our cities of Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, Ahmedabad, Kolkata, and Chennai have taken on characteristics reminiscent of Jetson-like cities. We show little regard for the Nagar Devata, Gram Devata, and Van Devata, who have protected the cities, towns, and forests that once surrounded us. We wait for formal governance to clean up our beaches, rivers, and ponds without making sufficient efforts to prevent pollution in the first place.


For those striving to grasp spirituality not through the Puranas and Aadi-Granth but through new-age podcasts, I recommend watching Vinay Varanasi’s podcast on Bhagavan Vishnu’s Dashavatar. If it is clear that Bhagavan Vishnu does not tolerate disregard for Bhudevi or Mother Earth, why do we, the devotees of Bhagavan Vishnu, continue to pollute our Mother Earth—her air, soil, waters, and sounds? Or have we taken Elon Musk's words at face value, assuming our next destination is Mars after destroying Earth, only to ruin Mars later, even worse than its current clinically sterile state? If that is the case, then bear with me when I say this: these Jetson cities stand on precarious pillars of ego, victimhood, apathy, and consumerism, waiting to be toppled either by the true harbingers of order or by false prophets. Therefore, teach the next generations to observe nature, appreciate our coexistence with other species, and venerate the forces of nature. By doing so, we humans will be good, at least for the next thousand years. If not, prepare for a bleak future by the end of this century.


(The author is a Space and Emerging Technology Fellow at the Centre for Security, Strategy and Technology, Observer Research Foundation, Mumbai. Views personal.)

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