<p>The fires in Karbi Anglong did not erupt from sudden rage—they flared up from a broken constitutional promise that tribal lands would remain in tribal hands. When that promise breaks, so does faith in the Constitution itself. A second failure lies within the first. </p><p>On December 22, 2025, when police removed several hunger strikers for medical care, a simple, truthful government statement could have prevented what followed. It did not come. Within hours, a mob had torched a house. Within two days, at least two people were dead.</p>.<p>This is a story about what happens when governments fail to communicate at moments when communication matters most.</p>.<p>The Karbi Anglong encroachment crisis began when approximately 7,184.7 acres of protected tribal grazing reserves fell under illegal occupation. In February 2024, when KAAC issued eviction notices, settlers challenged the order in the Gauhati High Court, which imposed an interim stay that has persisted for nearly two years, leaving tribal communities waiting indefinitely, while the government allegedly pursued no additional legal remedies.</p>.<p>On the early morning of December 22, police removed nine hunger strikers from Phelangpi for medical evaluation at Gauhati Medical College Hospital (GMCH)—a decision that was widely misrepresented as “arrests”, and the authorities concerned failed to communicate otherwise immediately. </p>.<p>Within hours, misinformation spread on social media: protesters believed their leaders were being jailed, social media and messaging apps circulated distorted and doctored claims, and anger mounted. By afternoon, KAAC CEM Tuliram Ronghang’s ancestral house had been torched. By December 23, violence had left at least two people dead and over 45 injured.</p>.<p>According to the situational crisis communication theory (SCCT), crises escalate when organisations fail to be “first responders” to information. Silence—especially in polarised contexts—creates a vacuum that misinformation fills, often with the worst interpretations.</p>.<p>What should have happened: Within 30 minutes of the removal of strikers, the government should have issued a statement such as, “Nine hunger strikers are being taken to GMCH for medical evaluation. This is standard protocol. We support their right to protest.”</p>.<p>Instead, silence spoke. And when official communication finally came from Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma and KAAC CEM Tuliram Ronghang, it came after the fire and emphasised legal constraints: “We cannot evict without court orders.”</p>.<p>But this reveals a deeper failure. For nearly two years, the government remained silent on why the High Court stay had not been challenged and why tribal communities were left waiting indefinitely. Studies show that organisations that wait to communicate until forced by events suffer reputation damage that extends far beyond the crisis itself. </p>.<p>In the absence of timely, authoritative messaging, the “arrests” narrative spread. Real-time government communication could have stopped false narratives in their infancy. With no clear government statement on the medical nature of the pickups, the crisis was interpreted through ethnic lenses rather than constitutional ones. </p>.<p>The real issue—illegal encroachment on tribal lands that were protected under the Sixth Schedule—was obscured by mistrust and rumour. How does the government rebuild trust?</p>.<p>Commit publicly to implement NCST findings. Tribal organisations have documented 7,184.7 acres of encroachment over years, and a transparent response is essential.</p>.<p>Explain the High Court process. The government should clarify why the interim stay has persisted, outline plans to approach higher courts if needed, and acknowledge that indefinite delays contradict constitutional intent. </p>.<p>Host regular KAAC meetings explaining eviction status to tribal communities directly. They should be briefed in real time on legal and administrative developments, not discover them later through rumours.</p>.<p>Why does this matter beyond Karbi Anglong? India’s Sixth Schedule was designed to protect tribal self-governance. If these protections erode not because the law is weak but because governments cannot enforce or communicate about them effectively, the entire framework risks losing legitimacy. Tribal communities across the Northeast are watching. If Karbi Anglong shows that constitutional promises can be indefinitely delayed through technicality and silence, faith in constitutional solutions will diminish.</p>.<p>The fires may have died. But the deeper question remains: has the government learned that transparency, timeliness, and empathy in crisis communication are not optional niceties but constitutional necessities? Karbi Anglong’s future depends not just on court orders and eviction drives, but on whether the government can finally communicate to tribal communities that their constitutional rights matter. That communication should have begun long before December 22. It is not too late to start now! </p>.<p><em>(The writer is a communication specialist and a socio-political commentator)</em></p>
<p>The fires in Karbi Anglong did not erupt from sudden rage—they flared up from a broken constitutional promise that tribal lands would remain in tribal hands. When that promise breaks, so does faith in the Constitution itself. A second failure lies within the first. </p><p>On December 22, 2025, when police removed several hunger strikers for medical care, a simple, truthful government statement could have prevented what followed. It did not come. Within hours, a mob had torched a house. Within two days, at least two people were dead.</p>.<p>This is a story about what happens when governments fail to communicate at moments when communication matters most.</p>.<p>The Karbi Anglong encroachment crisis began when approximately 7,184.7 acres of protected tribal grazing reserves fell under illegal occupation. In February 2024, when KAAC issued eviction notices, settlers challenged the order in the Gauhati High Court, which imposed an interim stay that has persisted for nearly two years, leaving tribal communities waiting indefinitely, while the government allegedly pursued no additional legal remedies.</p>.<p>On the early morning of December 22, police removed nine hunger strikers from Phelangpi for medical evaluation at Gauhati Medical College Hospital (GMCH)—a decision that was widely misrepresented as “arrests”, and the authorities concerned failed to communicate otherwise immediately. </p>.<p>Within hours, misinformation spread on social media: protesters believed their leaders were being jailed, social media and messaging apps circulated distorted and doctored claims, and anger mounted. By afternoon, KAAC CEM Tuliram Ronghang’s ancestral house had been torched. By December 23, violence had left at least two people dead and over 45 injured.</p>.<p>According to the situational crisis communication theory (SCCT), crises escalate when organisations fail to be “first responders” to information. Silence—especially in polarised contexts—creates a vacuum that misinformation fills, often with the worst interpretations.</p>.<p>What should have happened: Within 30 minutes of the removal of strikers, the government should have issued a statement such as, “Nine hunger strikers are being taken to GMCH for medical evaluation. This is standard protocol. We support their right to protest.”</p>.<p>Instead, silence spoke. And when official communication finally came from Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma and KAAC CEM Tuliram Ronghang, it came after the fire and emphasised legal constraints: “We cannot evict without court orders.”</p>.<p>But this reveals a deeper failure. For nearly two years, the government remained silent on why the High Court stay had not been challenged and why tribal communities were left waiting indefinitely. Studies show that organisations that wait to communicate until forced by events suffer reputation damage that extends far beyond the crisis itself. </p>.<p>In the absence of timely, authoritative messaging, the “arrests” narrative spread. Real-time government communication could have stopped false narratives in their infancy. With no clear government statement on the medical nature of the pickups, the crisis was interpreted through ethnic lenses rather than constitutional ones. </p>.<p>The real issue—illegal encroachment on tribal lands that were protected under the Sixth Schedule—was obscured by mistrust and rumour. How does the government rebuild trust?</p>.<p>Commit publicly to implement NCST findings. Tribal organisations have documented 7,184.7 acres of encroachment over years, and a transparent response is essential.</p>.<p>Explain the High Court process. The government should clarify why the interim stay has persisted, outline plans to approach higher courts if needed, and acknowledge that indefinite delays contradict constitutional intent. </p>.<p>Host regular KAAC meetings explaining eviction status to tribal communities directly. They should be briefed in real time on legal and administrative developments, not discover them later through rumours.</p>.<p>Why does this matter beyond Karbi Anglong? India’s Sixth Schedule was designed to protect tribal self-governance. If these protections erode not because the law is weak but because governments cannot enforce or communicate about them effectively, the entire framework risks losing legitimacy. Tribal communities across the Northeast are watching. If Karbi Anglong shows that constitutional promises can be indefinitely delayed through technicality and silence, faith in constitutional solutions will diminish.</p>.<p>The fires may have died. But the deeper question remains: has the government learned that transparency, timeliness, and empathy in crisis communication are not optional niceties but constitutional necessities? Karbi Anglong’s future depends not just on court orders and eviction drives, but on whether the government can finally communicate to tribal communities that their constitutional rights matter. That communication should have begun long before December 22. It is not too late to start now! </p>.<p><em>(The writer is a communication specialist and a socio-political commentator)</em></p>