Ladakh on the Boil: Arrest of Wangchuk Exposes Delhi’s Fear of People’s Voice

The arrest of Sonam Wangchuk in Leh marks a critical turning point in Ladakh’s long and simmering struggle for constitutional safeguards, statehood, and protection of its fragile ecology and tribal identity. What began as peaceful protests has now escalated into a confrontation between an increasingly alienated population and a central government that appears unwilling to engage meaningfully. The unfolding events mirror a familiar pattern: criminalisation of dissent, defamation of popular leaders, and an excessive reliance on coercion rather than dialogue.

The crisis did not emerge overnight. Since August 2019, when Article 370 was abrogated and Jammu and Kashmir was bifurcated, Ladakh was carved into a Union Territory without a legislature. At that time, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) celebrated the move as a “historic decision,” with some Ladakhi leaders initially welcoming the new status. But disillusionment grew rapidly as promises of development, jobs, and constitutional protections evaporated. In particular, the demand for statehood and inclusion under the Sixth Schedule—meant to protect tribal land and cultural rights—became the rallying cry of two powerful umbrella groups: the Leh Apex Body (LAB) and the Kargil Democratic Alliance (KDA). Together, they represent an unusual unity across Ladakh’s Buddhist and Muslim communities, something rarely witnessed in the region’s complex socio-religious landscape.

At the heart of this agitation lies a simple truth: Ladakhis fear becoming a minority in their own land. The Sixth Schedule of the Constitution provides protections for tribal populations in states like Meghalaya and Mizoram, safeguarding land ownership and local governance. With Ladakh’s population barely 3 lakh, of which nearly 97 percent are Scheduled Tribes, activists argue the safeguards are essential for survival against external corporate and demographic pressures. Yet, after nearly five years of repeated assurances, Delhi has failed to deliver.

The anger boiled over on September 24, when protests in Leh spiraled into violence, leaving four dead and around 90 injured, including 40 police personnel. For many, it was the breaking point after years of peaceful mobilisations that went unheard. The government’s immediate response was not to acknowledge the grievances but to scapegoat Wangchuk, Ladakh’s most recognisable face internationally due to his work in sustainable education and climate activism. The Union Home Ministry alleged that his speeches were “provocative,” even citing references he made to “Arab Spring-style protests” and “Gen Z movements in Nepal.” Officials claimed these remarks instigated the unrest, conveniently overlooking the deeper structural causes—unemployment, broken promises, and ecological concerns.

Data tells its own story. Ladakh has one of the highest youth unemployment rates in the Himalayan belt, with estimates ranging between 18–22 percent, far above the national average of 8 percent.

Recruitment drives for government jobs have been minimal, and private sector opportunities remain scarce due to the region’s geographic remoteness and infrastructural limitations. Promises of massive central investments have largely remained on paper, with locals accusing Delhi of prioritising strategic military infrastructure over civilian development. Climate-related anxieties compound these grievances. Glacial retreat in Ladakh is among the fastest in the Himalayas, threatening water security and agriculture, yet policy responses remain superficial.

Wangchuk himself has consistently framed the protests as an outcome of these frustrations. His hunger strike, begun on September 10, was an attempt to spotlight Ladakh’s demands peacefully. Yet, when violence erupted, he was swiftly painted as the mastermind. On September 26, as he prepared to hold a press conference to deny allegations of foreign funding, he was arrested by a team led by DGP S D Singh Jamwal. By evening, the Home Ministry cancelled the foreign funding license of his NGO, SECMOL, alleging discrepancies in accounts, including a transfer from Sweden. His other institution, the Himalayan Institute of Alternatives Ladakh (HIAL), is now under CBI scrutiny for alleged FCRA violations.

This sequence reveals a clear pattern. First, dissent is delegitimised by invoking foreign funding or national security concerns. Then, leaders are targeted through legal and bureaucratic harassment—sedition cases, tax raids, land disputes, or now, FCRA probes. Finally, coercive measures like arrests and curfews are deployed. This script was evident in the farmers’ protests, the anti-CAA movement, and even in Manipur’s ethnic violence. Ladakh has become the latest stage for this authoritarian playbook.

Critics, including some within the BJP, argue this strategy is counterproductive. By arresting Wangchuk, the government risks transforming him from a local activist into a national symbol of resistance. His warning—“Sonam Wangchuk in jail may cause them more problems than free Sonam Wangchuk”—is not idle rhetoric. The arrest has already galvanised wider solidarity, with student groups, environmental activists, and civil society organisations across India condemning the move.

International attention is also likely, given Wangchuk’s global reputation as a climate innovator.

The government’s claim that talks are ongoing also rings hollow. A High-Powered Committee (HPC) was constituted to engage with the LAB and KDA, but its meetings have been inconclusive. The next round, scheduled for October 6, now stands clouded by mistrust following Wangchuk’s arrest. The Home Ministry insists that “politically motivated individuals” are sabotaging dialogue, but the reality is that Delhi’s reluctance to concede even minimal demands—like Sixth Schedule protections—has eroded faith in the process.

Beyond the politics lies the human cost. Four families are mourning loved ones lost in Leh’s worst violence since 1989. Dozens of young men and women, both protesters and police, are nursing injuries. The imposition of curfew and heavy paramilitary deployment has created an atmosphere of siege. For a region already sensitive due to its strategic proximity to China and Pakistan, such alienation is dangerous. Security analysts warn that continued unrest could undermine both social cohesion and national security in a frontier region that Delhi cannot afford to destabilise.

The broader question is whether the Modi government is willing to treat Ladakh’s aspirations with respect or continue to crush them under the weight of suspicion and coercion. Arresting a climate activist will not solve unemployment. Cancelling an NGO’s FCRA license will not guarantee ecological sustainability. Deploying police and CBI may silence protests temporarily, but it will not erase the demand for dignity, rights, and recognition.

What Ladakh needs is wisdom, not cleverness, as Wangchuk himself said. A genuine political dialogue leading to constitutional safeguards is the only sustainable solution. Otherwise, the cold desert could soon become a hotbed of permanent discontent, with consequences that extend far beyond its borders.