By Patricia Mukhim
On September 27, the Khasi Students Union, NEHU Unit organised a discussion (not debate) on the ‘Inner Line Permit – to have or not to have.’ Some enlightened individuals came armed with documents to bolster their arguments almost as if they had to prove a point. Others came with notes they had made. Still others came mentally prepared and did not need to consult their notes. It does not in any way mean that they were unprepared. Those with bulky documents seemed to have come to the discussion with the notion that the Inner Line Permit (ILP) has to be implemented, come hell or high water and that there are no two ways about it. Hence they were impatient to even listen with respect to what others had to say. This is typical of people afflicted with the one-dimensional thinking of an anarchist whose stated position on most issues is, “It’s my way or the highway.” But there is merit in having an open mind because in a democracy there are as many views as there are people and it is important to allow the fresh flow of ideas before we take a moral high ground and stick to our opinions. Freezing on a single idea almost as if it is sacrosanct, reeks of fascism. It is also unfortunate that such opportunities for public discussions should become platforms for xenophobia and jingoism.
I have been reading Alexander Mackenzie’s book, “The North East Frontier of India” originally published in 1884 under the title, “History of the Relations of the Government with the Hill Tribes of the North East Frontier of Bengal.” I have also read other literature on the Eastern Bengal Frontier Regulation Act of 1873. Because Mackenzie’s book is purely a British colonial administrator’s view of events it gives us an insight into the manner in which the tribes were viewed by the British. I quote from chapter XX111 of Mackenzie’s book (pages 370-373) to prove to those who believe that the Eastern Bengal Frontier Regulation act which birthed the ILP is meant to safeguard the tribes, that it was never so. Mackenzie says, “Those of us who long ago contended that in no other way could permanent security be won, may rest content with the eventual triumph of their views; but we may perhaps be pardoned a passing expression of regret that so many lives should have been lost and so many valuable years wasted, while the vain endeavour was made to shirk the full burden of responsibility imposed on us by local circumstances and by the high necessities of our paramount position. Even now it cannot be safely assumed that the ‘arbitrary line’ which bound our present jurisdiction to the east of the Angami country will long suffice. We have left outside the sphere of our direct control not a few tribes of Nagas who may still prove troublesome to both hills and plains; We have secured and strongly occupied the navel of the hills; we have settled the limits of Manipuri interference; and we may have, it may be hoped effectively protected the tea planters and cultivators of the plain from outrage and plunder.”
Talking about the present Mizoram, Mackenzie states, “…we may have ourselves to go in and occupy in force this land of the Lushais, in order to superintend effectively the settlement of the various tribal units, to prevent a regime of tribal massacre upon our border, and to obviate all risk of outrage upon the settled district of Cachar. ….no one can look at the map and fail to see that the port of Chittagong is destined to be someday the proper outlet for the teas of Cachar and the products of Manipur and the source from which the Surma valley must draw those supplementary supplies of food which its yearly growing population will more and more require.” These statements more than illustrate that the ILP is an instrument to fence what the British called the savage tribes within their territories so that they do not harass or ambush the plains people who work for the British in their tea gardens etc. It is a colonial instrument to contain unmanageable populations. If we now choose to believe in British benevolence then we have manipulated or misread history. But is this intentional? Is it not true that even today for most of us tribals, the white man can do no wrong?
Another interpretation of the colonial intent was given by VS Jafa in his paper, “Administrative Policies & Ethnic Disintegration Engineering Conflict in India’s North East,” published for the South Asia Terrorism Portal (SATP). Jafa says, “The Inner Line was first defined in 1873 to stop hill tribal raids into the plains. However, within a few years of the British occupation of these hills, restrictions ceased on the movement of hill tribes, and they were allowed to fish, hunt and attend markets freely on both sides of the Line. But the plainsmen were never allowed to enter the hills without a pass. The hill tribals, whose activities had prompted the creation of the Inner Line Regulation, were thus exempted from the application of its provisions. Ironically, the restrictions applied only to the people of the neighbouring plains districts of Bengal and Assam for whose protection the Line was initially defined. In the long run, therefore, the Inner Line was neither designed nor enforced to serve its original purpose. Then what purpose did it serve? If the Lushai and Naga raids had ceased by 1897, why was the Inner Line continued as long as the British rule lasted in India?”
Jafa argues that the ILP helped create a controlled environment in which programs of a more lasting significance could be undertaken. The hill tribes had been successfully tamed by the end of the 19th century. This is borne out by Mackenzie’s chronicles which observes, “In the Garo Hills there is now a fair semblance of order. Raids have ceased. Feuds are vanishing… The Khasias who might, from their warlike character and tribal organisation have given us more trouble than any other hill people, have as we have seen, been for years the most peaceable of our subjects…” The civilising mission of the British via the Bible seemed to have succeeded in taming the tribes.
For us at this juncture of modernity to believe that the ILP was an instrument designed by the British to protect the hill tribes, or some hill tribes from being exploited by plainsmen is a naivety that requires an incisive re-reading of history. That someone in the audience should believe that the British would actually mention in the Eastern Bengal Frontier Regulation Act of 1873 that the Act is meant to keep the tribes away from harassing British officials posted in distant tribal outposts and from killing some of them is queer indeed. Many British officers had lost their lives in these tribal incursions from excluded areas into British occupied territory. History is replete with these examples and Mackenzie’s accounts no less. An Act cannot possibly reveal the game plan behind it. To understand the nuances of the Indian Constitution one has to fall back on the hundreds of pages of the Constituent Assembly debates that took place among the members of the drafting committee.
There were some elements of the discussion on September 27 which jarred. A theologian proposed that he preferred to live in the good old days where transaction between the hills and plains was minimal. The problem with such discussions is that realism flies out of the window while idealism sits pretty. Would the reverend give up his mobile phone or the other creature comforts of modernity? We are talking to a bunch of young people with aspirations. But they are also concerned about losing their opportunities and prospects to the “other;” in this case the ubiquitous non-tribal (bar- jylla) and the alien (mynder) from Bangladesh. We are living at a very significant juncture of history where opportunities beckon but the road is long and arduous. We can no longer expect cushy government jobs. In the private sector, slogging is second nature. Ask those who work in these sectors to share their experiences. Many of them are already well adjusted in working conditions that demand a work culture of the developed world. There are no compromises. There are no holidays allowed each time someone in the locality dies or there is a family celebration. The globalised world offers opportunities but very few options. A person may have the opportunity to work in the best organisation in the country but she cannot choose her timings or define her work profile. It’s the organisation that does that. They pay well but the person must earn her pay. Simple. There is no time to stand and stare or to get into polemics on pedantic issues. These are the leisure of the unemployed who have all the time in the world to find fault with everything and everyone but fail to lift a finger to set things right.
To my mind, the only way to control influx is to plug all the opportunities that people from outside come here to find. As long as there is employment opportunities, people will come in. This is a universal phenomena and not a problem of Meghalaya alone. Even the United States is with its 14 million illegal migrants and aliens who have slipped in through the notoriously tough borders of that country. Of course we need instruments to control influx but leaving that to the Government alone to design and implement is to court disaster. Why are we not even speaking about the existing institutions and mechanisms that have become defunct? What are the District Councils which are meant to safeguard tribal land, forests, water bodies, trading etc, doing? If they have lost the way should we not take stock and hold them accountable or dismantle them if they have become redundant? And what about the Land Transfer Act? What is it in this Act that is deficient? Let’s call for a discussion on this issue and plug the loopholes. It’s time to come up with solutions. For too long we have, ourselves, been part of the problem.