Peace talks between India’s government and insurgent groups in Nagaland have long been tentative at best, but our progress of the past half decade or more was put at threat by lives lost in a shocking turn of events over the weekend. At least a dozen civilians and an Indian soldier were killed in a botched operation by security forces and its aftermath. Reports suggest that a false tip-off on rebel movement in Mon district of Nagaland led our Army to mistakenly ambush a vehicle carrying local miners. Word of six miner deaths resulted in retaliatory attacks on security personnel, whose defensive actions cost further lives. The Indian Army was quick to admit the gravity of its error, Union home minister Amit Shah has promised justice, and an inquiry is to be conducted by a special investigation team. Yet, the matrix of insurgency in this Northeast state is such that political analysts expect its most prominent flag-bearer, the National Socialist Council of Nagalim (Isak-Muivah), or NSCN-IM, to harden its stance in talks with the Centre and perhaps also use Sunday’s horror as a pressure tactic to co-opt other splinter groups that seemed more open to a settlement. The sooner a credible probe lets the country assign responsibility and punish the guilty, the easier it will be for New Delhi to contain the fallout. For the sake of peace in insurgency-hit states in general, however, we should also reopen our national debate on a special shield that we gave our forces decades ago.
Enacted in 1958, the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) grants security forces a cover of immunity from prosecution under regular laws in a handful of border states where it is in force. At a time when India’s attraction as a union of states was more political than economic, it was regarded as a necessary tool for our forces to quell armed uprisings against Indian rule and thereby ensure stability. Today, we must ask ourselves if the AFSPA has survived past its utility. The country’s allure was enhanced by its economic emergence, but disaffection in several remote regions has persisted even after we upped outlays on welfare and development. An ear to the ground would point to the role played by vicious cycles of violence that track frequently fraught relations between our soldiers and local residents. So long has the Army had troops on hair-trigger alert in these parts that mutual antagonisms have congealed, with the result that almost all Army killings attract suspicion and anger. Local cynicism over the national interest being served is fanned to a significant extent by the existence of AFSPA and perceptions of military court martials being both rare and loaded in favour of the accused personnel. So infamous is this particular law that it is often held up as ‘proof’ of justice denial and unequal treatment meted out to citizens who live where it applies.
Previous calls to revoke the AFSPA ran into the argument that it was a key enabler of anti-insurgency operations. While our soldiers do face war-like conditions and we mustn’t hobble their ability to fulfil their assigned duties, it is about time we reviewed that law. Its extended use and potential for misuse could have turned it into a liability from an asset in our quest for peace and stability. In Nagaland, much hope rests on a framework agreement that the NSCN-IM signed with the Centre, but a final pact remains elusive. Even if it can be salvaged, we still need to show that everyone has an equal right to justice. Let’s rethink the AFSPA.
