In 2024, a CNN news report described the Bangladesh flood catastrophe at length: hundreds of dilapidated roads and houses were submerged meter deep in muddy water, and boats deployed by emergency services were ferrying helpless residents brooding about their past lives. However, a highlight of this issue was not the calamity itself; it was about how Bangladeshis felt aggrieved against their more excellent neighbour: India. 

Hifjur Rehman, 40, a third-generation farmer, collapsed in a paddy field destroyed by floods in Assam. Credits: NYT

“Anti-India” sentiment had alarmingly risen after the Bangladeshi “students-led revolution” that ousted Sheikh Hasina from the prime ministership, and this was being reflected even in this unfortunate incident. There have been speculations that India opened the Dumbur Dam in Tripura without warning Bangladesh. So far, neither side has confirmed the actual chain of events. On India's part, the Ministry of External Affairs dismissed the CNN report in a strong-worded verbal communique.

A note to our readers: This essay was written in 2024. Some references, data, and timelines may no longer reflect current developments.

A few months back, I had the opportunity to attend a seminar on “Tibetan-Ladakhi Political Ecology” by Dr Alexander Davis from the University of Western Australia. The talk primarily focused on the fragile ecosystem in and around the Himalayas and how the British colonial regime neglected the ecology to demarcate unsustainable borders that drain India and China's revenue. For instance, India spends about 5 Crore Rupees daily to sustain the garrison on the Siachen glacier, as per the Economic Times (2019). Furthermore, India and China have been building infrastructure alongside the LAC, where the ecology is incredibly fragile. This ecology is why Ladakh is also demanding the implementation of the Sixth Schedule for safeguarding indigenous people, but the Indian Government has not heeded this call. It is abundantly clear that military buildups help the least when tackling more significant issues such as climate change.

In “Defensive Realist Discourse”, states often accumulate power to maintain the status quo. In such ecologies, posturing and flexing of military power often take the centre stage rather than addressing local issues. For once, one can agree with the “Offensive Realist” definition of buck-passing, witnessed live in the 2020 Indo-Chinese skirmishes. What we see is a projection of power, that is, in turn, an extension of a projection of a leader's capability: PM Narendra Modi's comments in 2020 earned intense criticism when he stated that “no one entered Indian territory” or “took Indian posts”. Similarly, Chinese paramount leader Xi Jinping prided himself on a '1.4 billion strong steel wall' during the 2021 CPC Centenary celebrations.

But what about the people on the ground? Why did major parties fail to pacify Ladakh, which voted for an independent MP in this Lok Sabha election, in contrast to other border areas? The BJP won Arunachal Pradesh with a thumping majority primarily due to the redressal of infrastructure woes, such as transport (the inauguration of the Donyi Polo Airport), the success of the Jal Jeevan Mission, and the protection of sensitive ecosystems. On the other hand, the BJP lost its single seat in Ladakh, which faces the highest resource distress in the entire country. This uneven centralised approach risks undermining inclusivity and diversity in addressing problems that require cooperation, not conflict.

Unlike popular discourse, subaltern theory marks a radical departure from mainstream academia as it offers marginalised groups a space to assert alternate positionalities. An indispensable elite constructs the conflictual narrative; ironically, they reside far from the place of conflict. New Delhi is closer to Lahore than Leh; Beijing is approximately the same distance from Lhasa as Srinagar is from Kanyakumari. In essence, this creates classes of people: Ladakhi and Tibetan voices are, unfortunately, not taken into account by the Indian and Chinese governments and the ruling elites. In the same seminar, Dr Alexander showed us a pristine video of Tibet and the Chinese government's “publicity” campaign of the activities undertaken in the Tibet Autonomous Region. The video contradicted the decrease in glacier size and changes in soil composition, while tourism, human and livestock populations had gradually increased. Undertaking surveys or interviews of the Tibetan people in China is generally not feasible because of the draconian regulations imposed by the Chinese government. This resource extraction phenomenon has been termed ‘Resource Nationalism’ by scholar Gabriel Lafitte.

Hilly areas are not the only domains where this militarisation cycle has proliferated. ‘Hydropolitics’ or water disputes, is a subject of substantial time and research. Chief among them is the ‘Indus Water Treaty’ (IWT) of 1960, signed between India and Pakistan. With borders, practices and canal designs dating from the colonial era, the infrastructure and outdated practices cannot keep up with the burgeoning population. With a vast population, economy and virtual monopoly resources, India cultivates a “Hydro-Hegemony”, as Paula Hanasz states in her working paper.

While Ms Paula rightfully assesses the role of India as a conducive power ensuring political stability in South Asia through its hydro-hegemony, we find the absence of a “levels-of-framework” analysis slightly troubling. Throughout the paper, we see the addressing of states as a monolithic body, eroded by subnational groups, who might be acutely opposed to such developmental projects. Within India, significant opposition has been raised to the construction of dams, such as the Kishanganga Dam on the Jhelum River. Regarding negotiation, this concentration of power with elites reduces directly affected parties to mere pawns in “government-to-government” conflicts. A direct product of this is the current discourse that we see in Bangladesh regarding India's perceived injustice.

Speaking of Bangladesh, it is perhaps the only nation with which India has the most stressed relations in terms of resources. Bangladesh hosts about 54 transboundary rivers that pass through Indian territory. Construction of the Farakka Barrage and the Teesta River dispute are some of the prickly thorns that prevent the harmonisation of the India-Bangladesh relationship. Water sharing is often a calculation that needs to reflect the realities on the ground, as they need to be updated in several cases. Other instances that hurt people-to-people perceptions, and thereby the foreign image of India, are the India-Sri Lanka Palk Strait fishing dispute between Sri Lankan and Indian fishermen and the 'blockades' in Nepal that were perceived to be “Indian-orchestrated”.

Also curiously missing from the analysis is the influence of movements (andolans) and NGOs from the analysis. The famous eco-feminist Chipko Movement of 1974 inspired several other movements in Sweden and Japan. The interaction between state and non-state actors, which influences the state's actions, is barely mentioned. From a subaltern perspective, the voice of the people directly affected by state policies barely finds a mention in academic discourse. In competing frameworks of neorealism and neoliberalism, people from vulnerable areas are ignored because they lack political and economic influence, thereby turning the question of the acquisition of resources into a class problem. The state, in such a framework, tries to construct a narrative stating the projects to be crucial for “self-dependence” or 'national security'; with sheer resources and machinery at disposal; the voices of dissent are muffled, and thereby, the amalgamation of Benedict Anderson's 'Imagined Communities'. The vulnerable minority must sacrifice for the nation's rejuvenation.

Displacement of people, and more broadly, of livelihoods, is a serious concern that should be addressed. For a safe and secure nation, needs should be addressed equitably through justice. Realism, as I argued in my previous writings, gives rise to an ‘ad infinitum’ problem that could not be adequately addressed in a world wherein “rational” actors are indirectly reliant on one another. Common negative externalities such as climate change affect one and all the same. Replicating colonial prejudice and practices in resource sharing is detrimental to the interests of the communities across the South Asian region, whether it be inter or intra-state.

We need to create a trust-based framework amongst all aggrieved parties to move forward and cultivate a shared “violence-free” future. Persistent confidence-building measures, inter-party dialogue, free trade and support for local communities are some of the building blocks forward. Additionally, states in such contentions need to de-link political considerations and prioritise the well-being of vulnerable borderland communities over persistent militarisation and spiralling violence through frequent skirmishes. Ecosystems should be maintained through strict execution of national and international laws, and best sustainable practices should be shared through cross-border informational exchange. India, on its part, should aspire to be a humanitarian superpower and project its soft power through assistance to distressed populations in neighbouring countries. The Bangladesh flood debacle was a missed opportunity to repair Indo-Bangladeshi ties.

State security could only be reinforced through long-lasting, endurable human security. It is high time we implement the same instead of bickering over amendable and re-framable identities.

About the Author: Partha Samal

A graduate from IIT Madras, Partha is former co-head of IFPP's Democracy CPR research group (now Bindu: The South Asia Desk).