The Chakma Refugees in Arunachal Pradesh: India’s Dilemma at the Intersection of Security,Morality,and Diplomacy

Introduction

When we narrate India’s refugee discourse, the iconic narratives of Tibetan monks in Dharamshala or Tamil families fleeing Jaffna come to our mind. This obscures one of India’s most prolonged and politically sensitive refugee crises—the case of the Chakmas and Hajongs of Arunachal Pradesh. They were displaced first by the Partition of India and later by the construction of the Kaptai Dam in East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) and were officially resettled in the North-East Frontier Agency (NEFA) by the Government of India in the 1960s. This state-led initiative, while framed as a humanitarian response, was perhaps not purely benevolent. It was also strategically motivated, aimed at securing border areas after the 1962 war with China.

Over time, however, this population—settled through official policy—was transformed into a contentious issue. Indigenous communities in Arunachal Pradesh began perceiving the Chakmas as demographic and cultural threats. This triggered widespread social exclusion, state apathy, and prolonged statelessness for Chakmas. Supreme Court orders have affirmed their citizenship rights many times, and the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) has repeatedly intervened. Despite this, the majority of Chakmas remain disenfranchised, deprived of basic rights such as education, healthcare, and identity documentation.

My article traces the Chakma issue across four interlinked dimensions: the historical roots of their displacement, the strategic rationale behind their resettlement, the legal and humanitarian failures that followed and contributed to their marginalization, and the broader diplomatic implications for India’s refugee policy. In doing so, it interrogates the uneasy gap between India’s constitutional promises and its administrative practices. Also, while appreciating the good part, it proposes sustainable and inclusive solutions to a crisis that has persisted for over six decades.

Methodology

This study follows a qualitative, interdisciplinary, and interpretive methodology. It draws upon a large number of sources. These include provisions of the Indian Constitution such as Articles 21 and 14, relevant sections of the Citizenship Act, 1955, landmark Supreme Court judgments—especially the 1996 ruling on Chakma citizenship, and government policy documents, including reports by the NHRC (2021).

To get a nuanced understanding of the topic, the study also engages with academic literature from political science, legal studies, postcolonial refugee studies, and human rights scholarship. This helps to build a layered understanding of the Chakma experience. NGO reports and civil society publications, especially from organizations such as the Committee for Citizenship Rights of the Chakmas of Arunachal Pradesh and the Chakma Development Foundation of India (CDFI), were also studied. These will help us understand the lived experiences of Chakmas.

I want to acknowledge that this research is not based on primary fieldwork. It is not easy to get direct access to refugee communities in Arunachal Pradesh because of security and administrative constraints. Therefore, I used more secondary sources to reconstruct the narratives and policy debates. Additionally, my study triangulates multiple sources, which include legal texts, government reports, NGO documentation, and academic analyses, allowing for a reliable and critically deep understanding of the Chakma experience. This was done to compensate for the absence of firsthand data. This also highlights an important direction for future research: to engage directly with the affected communities.

The information was analyzed and organized into historical, legal, humanitarian, and geopolitical dimensions of the Chakma refugee issue.

My article also tries to make a comparative analysis by placing the Chakma issue within the broader context of India’s refugee responses, including those extended to Tibetan, Tamil, and Rohingya populations. This methodological approach allows us to understand that India’s refugee policy is not only shaped by laws and diplomatic agreements, but it is also shaped by ethno-political pressures, institutional inertia, and the moral challenges of statelessness in a constitutional democracy.

Historical Context of Chakma Migration to India

The Chakmas are a tribal people who originally belonged to the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) ¹ of undivided India. The story of their migration into India, particularly to the northeastern frontier of Arunachal Pradesh, is related to the turbulent history of the Partition of India in 1947 (Prasad 2006; Singh 2010). The CHT was given to Pakistan under the Redcliffe Award. This was controversial because the region had a predominantly non-Muslim population.

Their history is complex, shaped by a distinct tribal identity, their strong sense of cultural belonging, scars of colonial legacies, trauma of forced displacement, and regional geopolitical strategy (Singh 2010). The Chakmas are followers of Theravada Buddhism. ² They trace their lineage to the Sakya clan (Chakma Rights and Development Organisation 2020). This is the same clan to which Gautama Buddha belonged. This spiritual association seems to have deeply rooted Buddhism in their cultural life, alongside the preservation of their own distinct language, script, and customs. In simple words, their religious and cultural identity not only distinguished them within East Pakistan but also fostered a natural civilizational affinity with India, particularly during the upheaval of decolonization and the drawing of post-Partition borders.

In 1947, Chakma leaders appealed to remain within India. But the CHT were anyway awarded to Pakistan. This political decision, believed to be influenced by India’s broader diplomatic calculus over Kashmir ³ (Sakya 2022), left the Chakmas within the borders of a nation that saw them as aliens. Their loyalty to India and symbolic resistance, such as the hoisting of the Indian flag in Rangamati after 1947, or perhaps just because they were minorities, led to them becoming victims of religious persecution, marginalization, and state apathy. Over time, they were treated with suspicion, and this led to them getting systematically excluded from full participation in the political and cultural life of Pakistan.

The most significant turning point in their story came in the early 1960s. This was the construction of the Kaptai Dam on the Karnafuli River. The project submerged over 54,000 acres of agricultural land in the CHT, displacing approximately 100,000 people—mostly Chakmas (Sakya 2022; Singh 2010). The project was not only a domestic development initiative but also a part of Cold War geopolitics. It was heavily supported by American multinational corporations and development aid agencies such as the US Agency for International Development (USAID) and the World Bank. The dam represented a tool of modernization, and also, perhaps obviously, a geopolitical alliance aimed at curbing the spread of communism in South Asia. In this process, indigenous communities like the Chakmas got marginalized. They were portrayed through Orientalist language as ‘primitive’ and ‘backward,’ and this justified their exclusion from the nation’s vision of modernity and progress (Jhala 2023).

Faced with both environmental devastation and increasing religious persecution, the Chakmas began migrating to India (Ghoshal 2018; Kumar 2020). They arrived in a hopeless and vulnerable state in the Mizo district of Assam and in Tripura. Between 1964 and 1969, the Government of India initiated a formal resettlement program, relocating approximately 14,000 Chakmas to the sparsely populated areas of the NEFA, ⁴ today’s Arunachal Pradesh (Singh 2010). Along with humanitarian, this relocation was also strategic. After India was defeated in the 1962 war with China, ⁵ settling loyal civilian populations in border areas was viewed as a way to strengthen India’s territorial control and deter China from future incursions (Sakya 2022). The presence of the Chakmas in these frontier zones was thus encouraged to serve as a buffer population, ⁶ reinforcing national security.

While the bulk of Chakma migration occurred during the 1960s, a second major wave arrived in the aftermath of the 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War. These Chakmas were fleeing the intensifying conflict in the CHT and the rise of insurgent movements like Shantibahini. ⁷ Although East Pakistan became Bangladesh, the situation for the Chakmas in the CHT did not substantially improve (Kharat 2003). Religious and ethnic marginalization persisted, particularly under military regimes that pursued Islamization policies. ⁸ Armed conflict between the Bangladeshi state and the indigenous Jumma peoples intensified in the 1970s and 1980s, resulting in continued outmigration of Chakmas into India, including to Tripura, Mizoram, and Assam, as well as into Arunachal Pradesh.

However, unlike the structured resettlement of the earlier period, these later arrivals were left in more precarious legal and humanitarian conditions, compounding the complexity of the Chakma presence in India (Singh 2010). India and Bangladesh signed repatriation agreements in the 1990s, ⁹ including a notable one in March 1997, but not all Chakmas returned to Bangladesh (Government of Bangladesh and Parbatya Chattagram Jana Sanghati Samiti 1997). This was due to fears of continued persecution and broken promises of rehabilitation. These agreements, though diplomatic in tone, did little to resolve the deep-rooted insecurity and distrust faced by the Chakma people regarding repatriation to Bangladesh.

In the beginning, the Chakmas were granted basic civil rights, including access to land, employment, and even voting rights in some constituencies. They were considered to be part of India’s development plan for the Northeast. However, by the mid-1970s, political attitudes seemed to have shifted. Resentment from local tribal populations grew, and the state also feared demographic imbalance and electoral disruption. This led to a gradual erosion of rights and the onset of legal limbo. The once-legally settled Chakmas were now increasingly portrayed as outsiders, excluded from welfare schemes, educational institutions, and state employment, and branded as ‘stateless.’

This long history of Chakmas was thus rooted in spiritual identity, Partition, developmental displacement, strategic resettlement, and post-liberation repatriation. It laid the foundation for the ongoing morality–security–diplomacy dilemma that shapes Chakma’s experiences in contemporary India. It also underscores the complex interplay of internal politics, border security, regional diplomacy, and humanitarian responsibility that underpins India’s handling of refugee populations.

Security and Strategic Concerns

Chakmas came to India via the Lushai Hills. ¹⁰ The refugees were placed in relief camps in Tirat, Lohit, and Subansiri districts of the then NEFA. India’s decision to resettle the Chakmas in NEFA after the 1962 Sino-Indian War must be seen through the lens of national security. NEFA, now Arunachal Pradesh, was a sparsely populated and militarily vulnerable area bordering China. It was a deliberate strategic choice to settle communities considered loyal to India to create a demographic buffer along sensitive border regions. The Chakmas, being Buddhist and pro-India, were seen as reliable settlers. A majority of them live in the Changlang district ¹¹ of the state of Arunachal Pradesh today.

This demographic strategy was aligned with global practices of ‘defensive settlements,’ where states seek to consolidate control over frontier zones by populating them with loyal groups. In the case of Arunachal Pradesh, the idea was to prevent future Chinese claims over sparsely populated territories by integrating loyal citizens into remote areas. However, this security-driven policy over time generated internal friction.

In 1972, NEFA was renamed Arunachal Pradesh and designated a Union Territory. Later, it achieved full statehood in 1987. With statehood emerged new political structures, identity assertions, and heightened anxieties around land ownership, ethnic representation, and resource allocation. The Arunachal Pradesh government began opposing the Chakma presence. It claimed that it would change the region’s demography, strain public resources, and also may potentially undermine the political voice of Scheduled Tribes (Singh 2010).

The change in perception was mainly due to growing political awareness among the indigenous tribes. As the Chakma population grew, indigenous groups like the Adis, Mishmis, Singphos, and Khamtis ¹² began to feel uneasy and threatened. These communities began fearing demographic marginalization and political underrepresentation. Over time, Chakmas came to be seen as outsiders encroaching upon indigenous land, resources, and cultural space. Electoral politics seem to have magnified these anxieties as the expanding Chakma population was seen as a vote bank capable of upsetting traditional balances.

The All Arunachal Pradesh Students’ Union (AAPSU) ¹³ emerged as the loudest voice against the Chakma settlement in the state (Prasad 2007). By the 1990s, AAPSU-led movements demanded the expulsion of Chakmas, organizing mass agitations and enforcing social boycotts (Prasad 2006). In 1994, they went so far as to issue ‘Quit Arunachal’ notices, and the Arunachal Pradesh Legislative Assembly passed resolutions seeking their removal. AAPSU viewed the Supreme Court judgments (NHRC v. Arunachal Pradesh 1996; Committee for C.R. of C.A.P. v. Arunachal Pradesh 2015) ¹⁴ as Delhi’s imposition on regional autonomy (Singh 2010), which is a common sentiment in many northeastern states. Such measures severely strained center–state relations and highlighted how security-oriented resettlement policies can inadvertently produce long-term domestic insecurity.

From a broader regional perspective, the Chakma issue also affected Indo-Bangladesh diplomatic relations (Beniwal 2022). Although India signed repatriation agreements with Bangladesh in 1992 and 1997 for returning Chakmas who had taken shelter in Tripura during the post-liberation insurgency, the majority in Arunachal were not part of that contingent. Nevertheless, political pressure from both states influenced India’s citizenship and repatriation decisions.

The fragile Indo-Bangladesh border, especially in the northeast, has long posed challenges. Sanjoy Hazarika’s Rites of Passage tells us how migrants like Mahesh could cross the border back and forth to meet their families in Bangladesh and work in India by paying bribes to police on both sides (Hazarika 2000). Such porosity indicates persistent vulnerabilities and has kept refugee flows a matter of bilateral tension. Despite this, the Chakmas have consistently demonstrated allegiance to India—a factor that sets them apart from other migrant groups. Also, as noted in multiple sources, most Chakmas born before 1987 or descended from those who were legally entitled to Indian citizenship under Section 3 of the Citizenship Act ¹⁵ (Izzat 2022).

Yet, the refusal of the Arunachal Pradesh government to implement the Supreme Court’s rulings shows us how domestic political calculations often override constitutional mandates. The militarization of the refugee issue—through special censuses, police harassment, and racial profiling—only deepens security tensions rather than resolving them. In reality, continued denial of rights to the Chakmas only increases alienation and limits their integration, paradoxically undermining the very national security that their resettlement was intended to bolster.

To achieve a long-term solution, India must reassess its national security framework. Security must not be understood only in terms of territorial integrity. It also means social cohesion, political stability, and the integration of marginalized communities. Inclusion, rather than exclusion, is the key to sustainable border management. Empowering the Chakmas with citizenship, rights, and civic integration would not put the nation at risk. Rather, it will reinforce national security by transforming a vulnerable, stateless population into one invested in India’s future.

Humanitarian and Legal Dimensions

To think that the Chakma crisis is just a strategic or political issue would be selfish. We need to understand that it is fundamentally a humanitarian one. For nearly six decades, thousands of Chakmas and Hajongs have remained in a state of de facto statelessness despite being born and raised on Indian soil. According to NHRC reports, of the estimated 65,000 Chakmas and Hajongs currently living in Arunachal Pradesh, over 60,000 qualify as Indian citizens by birth under Section 3 of the Citizenship Act, 1955—particularly those born before July 1, 1987, who are automatically citizens by law (NHRC v. Arunachal Pradesh 1996). Still, their citizenship applications remain unprocessed. Even the 1996 Supreme Court order directing the state to accept these applications has not been implemented (Chodan 2022; Izzat 2022). In practice, this means that even legally entitled individuals continue to be denied official recognition and documentation. Entire generations born after resettlement continue to live in limbo—legally citizens, yet administratively invisible; neither fully included nor formally excluded.

Maybe India’s non-signatory status to the 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol, which define who qualifies as a refugee, what legal protections they should receive, and the duties of host nations, has allowed this legal vacuum to persist (D’Sami 2022; Sarker 2017). It is quite surprising that India remains one of the few liberal democracies not to have ratified this framework, despite being home to the largest refugee population in South Asia. While India asserts a discretionary, case-by-case approach to refugees, this often leads to inconsistency and prolonged neglect (Ghoshal 2018). Courts and human rights bodies, however, have taken a more principled stand (Sarker 2017). The Supreme Court’s 1996 judgment was unambiguous: all persons, regardless of citizenship, are entitled to the protection of Article 21—right to life and personal liberty. ¹⁶ It ordered the state to accept Chakma and Hajong citizenship applications under Section 5 of the Indian Citizenship Act ¹⁷ (NHRC v. Arunachal Pradesh 1996).

The Central Government also responded by appointing the S.B. Chavan Committee in 1995, ¹⁸ which recommended granting citizenship to the refugees. But the strong political backlash from groups like the AAPSU ensured that these recommendations were never acted upon (Singh 2010). The 2015 Supreme Court order reaffirmed these directives (Committee for C.R. of C.A.P. v. Arunachal Pradesh 2015). More recently, the NHRC took suo motu cognizance ¹⁹ in 2021 of attempts to racially profile Chakmas and Hajongs through special censuses and other administrative measures. It directed the Ministry of Home Affairs and the Arunachal Pradesh government to uphold constitutional protections and prevent discriminatory action.

Despite these frameworks, Chakmas continue to suffer systemic discrimination (Singh 2010). Without ration cards, they cannot access the Public Distribution System (PDS) ²⁰ ; without official identity documents, they are ineligible for government jobs or state-run scholarships. Even when schools are technically open to them, many children are turned away or denied admission due to lack of domicile proof. ²¹ Healthcare access is sporadic. This leads to avoidable deaths, maternal health crises, and child malnutrition. What emerges is generational poverty, where lack of education leads to limited employment opportunities, which in turn makes upward mobility nearly impossible.

Most Chakma families survive through subsistence agriculture. They work as sharecroppers on marginal land, often under exploitative arrangements with dominant landholding tribes. Their settlements are typically located near riverbanks or forest fringes. This makes them vulnerable to erosion, floods, and displacement. Basic infrastructure like sanitation, electricity, and paved roads is also often absent (Singh 2010). These conditions strip them of the basic rights of dignity and humane living standards, enshrined in both domestic and international human rights frameworks (Prasad 2010).

Grassroots efforts like the Committee for Citizenship Rights of the Chakmas of Arunachal Pradesh (CCRCAP), ²² formed in 1991, have played an important role in keeping the legal battle alive. But the state’s resistance, like legislative resolutions in 1992 and 1994, and the center’s reluctance to override local sentiments seem to have stalled progress. Even compromise proposals like ‘limited citizenship,’ which would exclude land and Scheduled Tribe rights, have been trapped in political deadlock.

In this prolonged humanitarian crisis, it is the youth who seem to suffer the most. Cut off from opportunities at home, many have been forced to migrate to Indian metros like Delhi, Kolkata, and Guwahati. Here, they have no option but to take up informal jobs as factory laborers, domestic workers, salespersons, or guards. They work long hours for little pay, remain unprotected, and are often exploited. Their invisibility in public debates shows us not just state neglect but also gives us another example of the inhuman side of humans. It shows how our broader society remains indifferent toward the rights of marginalized, stateless communities. Thus, the Chakma story is more than just about a refugee population. It is a mirror to the challenges that democratic India faces in treating those who fall between the cracks of law, ethnicity, and politics.

Diplomatic Implications and Policy Recommendations

The Chakma refugee crisis has an important place in the wider frame of India’s foreign policy, particularly its bilateral relationship with Bangladesh (Beniwal 2022). It also touches upon India’s evolving global image as a pluralistic democracy ²³ committed to constitutional values (Debnath and Debnath 2020). The Chakmas’ plight raises difficult questions about how India reconciles its internal refugee policies with international commitments, humanitarian ethos, and strategic interests in South Asia. India has long carried the tradition of sheltering persecuted communities. These include Tibetans, Afghans, Bhutanese, and Sri Lankan Tamils. ²⁴ But its selective responses over time expose inconsistencies in its refugee regime.

In the case of Tibetan and Tamil refugees, the Indian state extended identity documentation, access to welfare, and long-term resettlement with autonomy. At the same time, the Chakmas, though they were settled through a government plan and have shown loyalty over decades, remain stateless and alienated (Chimni 1994). This uneven treatment casts a long shadow on India’s moral credibility.

The 1997 Indo-Bangladesh agreement on Chakma repatriation was a key diplomatic milestone. Framed within the context of the CHT Peace Accord, ²⁵ it aimed to rehabilitate returning refugees (Government of Bangladesh and Parbatya Chattagram Jana Sanghati Samiti 1997). However, implementation remains uneven. Bangladesh has struggled to deliver justice and resettlement, with continued militarization, attacks on indigenous leaders, and failure to return seized land (Chakma 2014). With repatriation unsafe, India must evolve a domestic solution instead of waiting for foreign conditions to improve.

A revealing episode in this legal landscape is the evolution from the Citizenship (Amendment) Bill of 2016 to the Citizenship (Amendment) Act of 2019. The 2016 Bill offered greater potential for Chakma inclusion—it had no cutoff date or territorial exclusions. Chakmas, as Buddhist refugees from East Pakistan, would have qualified directly (Government of India 2016). In contrast, the 2019 Act’s Clause 4 excluded ILP ²⁶ areas like Arunachal Pradesh and imposed a 2014 cutoff, leaving Chakmas outside its scope (Government of India 2019). This shift reflected political concessions to Northeast sentiments but also undermined a humanitarian resolution.

To reconcile these tensions, India must adopt a balanced diplomatic posture. First, implement the Supreme Court and NHRC directives granting Chakmas full citizenship under existing provisions. Second, initiate structured dialogue with Arunachal’s political and tribal leaders to co-create safeguards that protect local rights while integrating Chakmas with dignity. Solutions could include retaining Scheduled Tribe benefits for indigenous tribes, creating separate quotas for Chakmas, and exploring land-sharing models to ease fears of encroachment.

Internationally, India’s restraint in avoiding forced deportation is notable compared to trends elsewhere. Jordan has returned Syrian refugees under pressure; Bangladesh, after hosting over a million Rohingyas, has resorted to fencing camps and pushing repatriation. The US slashed refugee admissions dramatically in recent years, while countries like Denmark and Hungary have taken restrictive positions (Kumar 2024). In this grim context, India’s continuing engagement with the Chakmas—though imperfect—still signals a commitment to constitutional morality.

Efforts by the Supreme Court, NHRC, and NGOs such as the CDFI ²⁷ show us the growing consensus that this population cannot remain indefinitely stateless. These efforts must be institutionalized, not left to ad hoc ²⁸ responses. A durable solution requires rights-based recognition, transparent negotiation, and legal certainty.

From a strategic angle, integration often proves more sustainable than militarization alone. In the face of rising Chinese activity near the Line of Actual Control (LAC) and internal instability, loyal civilian settlements like the Chakmas may serve as natural buffers and reaffirm Indian sovereignty through inclusion.

Perhaps it is also time that India must enact a comprehensive refugee law (D’Sami 2022). A law that could clearly distinguish between economic migrants and those who have fled persecution, ensure procedural timelines, and access to education, healthcare, and livelihood (Prasad 2010). The Chakma case underscores the need for such a framework. Delivering justice to the Chakmas could set a humane precedent and quietly strengthen India’s democratic credentials at home and abroad.

Conclusion

The Chakma refugee crisis reflects the convergence of strategic necessity, legal ambiguity, and what might be called humanitarian neglect, highlighting a tangled mix of internal political resistance, national security priorities, and constitutional contradictions. People who were once welcomed as loyal settlers along a sensitive border have gradually been pushed to the margins: denied basic rights, depicted as outsiders, and caught in a political deadlock that neither recognizes their suffering nor upholds their legal entitlements.

National institutions such as the Supreme Court and NHRC have, at times, stepped in with progressive rulings, yet state-level ethnonationalism and political hesitation have obstructed lasting solutions and created enduring obstacles to refugee integration. This dissonance has been further aggravated by the shift from the inclusive 2016 Citizenship Amendment Bill to the more exclusionary 2019 Act, a move that seems to reflect a broader national trend of political appeasement over consistent humanitarian policy. Compared with other refugees, who generally enjoy legal protections and cultural autonomy, the Chakmas remain in a legal and social limbo, exposing clear asymmetries in India’s treatment of persecuted groups.

India’s ad hoc and discretionary refugee policy has its limitations. The lack of a well-defined framework leads to inconsistent treatment, politicization, and prolonged liminality. Statelessness, especially among Chakma youth, results in generational marginalization, economic exploitation, and increased risk of trafficking and abuse. This weakens India’s national cohesion and conflicts with its constitutional ideals and global aspirations as a pluralistic democracy.

A lasting resolution likely requires moving past case-by-case judgments and short-term political calculations. It must institutionalize the Chakmas’ citizenship rights through administrative action and legislative clarity. Structured dialogues with indigenous stakeholders, legal recognition for Chakma identity, and protection of tribal interests—via safeguards such as retaining Scheduled Tribe reservations and negotiating land access—seem to offer a balanced approach.

At a time when democratic norms and refugee rights are under painful pressure globally, India arguably has an opportunity to set a principled example. Ensuring full and meaningful citizenship for Chakmas would not only transform a historically unsettled borderland into a frontier of inclusion, trust, and national strength, but could also affirm India’s constitutional morality ²⁹ and commitment to human dignity. Because we must remember that humanity is our first duty.