Ladakh: Clamour for statehood, dignity, control over land

Ladakh is witnessing one of its strongest political movements in its history – this time for full statehood and constitutional safeguards.

The irony is striking. In 1988, the Ladakhis agitated for UT status to escape perceived neglect under J&K’s Kashmir-centric politics. That demand was fulfilled in August 2019, when Article 370 of the Constitution was revoked and J&K was bifurcated. Leh’s Buddhist-majority population, in particular, welcomed the change, hoping for empowerment and development.

But optimism soon gave way to frustration. With no legislature, Ladakh’s administration was left entirely to Delhi-appointed bureaucrats. Residents say they have little voice in decision-making, while fears of demographic change, ecological exploitation, and cultural erosion have grown sharper.

By 2021, two powerful coalitions emerged — the Leh Apex Body (LAB) and the Kargil Democratic Alliance (KDA). Historically divided along religious and regional lines, Leh’s Buddhists and Kargil’s Muslims found rare unity in demanding statehood, a Public Service Commission for local jobs, and safeguards under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution.

Modelled on protections for tribal regions in the Northeast, the Sixth Schedule would empower Ladakh’s Autonomous Hill Councils with legislative control over land, forests, and cultural practices. For locals, it represents a bulwark against outside corporate interests and unchecked settlement.

“Ladakh is India’s glacier capital, a fragile ecosystem that sustains millions downstream. It is also the frontline against China. Without safeguards like the Sixth Schedule and an elected Assembly, we risk losing our land, culture, and dignity. Statehood is not a luxury – it is survival,” said Sonam Wangchuk, educationist and climate activist, a leading voice in the agitation. From Kargil, senior KDA leader Asgar Ali Karbalai, warned of growing restiveness: “We had faith in dialogue, but Delhi is compelling us to agitate. Ladakh sits between the borders with two hostile neighbours – Pakistan and China – yet its people have no say in shaping their future. Statehood and constitutional protections are essential to secure our rights.”

For New Delhi, Ladakh’s strategic geography complicates the statehood demand. The region borders Pakistan to the west and China to the east – both seen as hostile. The 1999 Kargil war highlighted its vulnerability on one side, while the 2020 Galwan clash underscored the continuing threat on the other.

Officials argue that direct control of New Delhi allows faster decision-making on infrastructure, military coordination and security projects. Politically, granting statehood could also encourage similar demands elsewhere, undermining the centralising logic of the 2019 reorganisation. “This is not just about administration. Ladakh is where our two biggest enemies meet,” said a senior security official.

The movement underscores a paradox. In 1988, Ladakhis sought UT status to shield themselves from marginalisation within J&K. After finally securing it three decades later, they feel even less empowered. Now, LAB and KDA are pressing for statehood and Sixth Schedule protections as a way to reclaim agency, dignity, and control over their land.

As protests, Delhi marches, and hunger strikes gather momentum, the Modi government faces a difficult choice: balance Ladakh’s democratic aspirations with national security imperatives or risk alienating a frontier population whose trust is as critical as its territory.