Do Assam’s People Need Guns—Or Just Better Governance?

State Government Decides to Issue Arms Licences to ‘Indigenous’ Residents

May 31, 2025

The Assam government’s decision to issue arms licences to “indigenous” residents in remote areas, under the pretext of protection from “illegal immigrants,” marks a retreat from the state’s core responsibility to ensure public security. It also legitimises exclusion and replaces public trust and institutional justice with a politics rooted in fear.

According to the decision, the arms licences will be limited to those deemed “indigenous,” a policy that actively reinforces identity boundaries and implies that some citizens are more entitled to state protection than others.

Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma has identified districts like Dhubri, Morigaon, Barpeta and South Salmara, where Muslims constitute a majority, as areas where Hindus need to be armed. It is inflammatory, sending a message that those living in proximity to religious or linguistic minorities must prepare to defend themselves, as if coexistence were no longer possible. The move hardens existing communal divides and pushes residents further into suspicion and resentment.

The Sri Lankan experience during the 1980s offers a warning. As the conflict between the Sinhalese-dominated state and Tamil separatists escalated, the Sri Lankan government began tacitly supporting and arming Sinhalese civilian defence groups, particularly in Tamil-majority areas, under the justification of maintaining order and resisting insurgency. These groups, often composed of local youth, operated with impunity and were accused of attacking Tamil civilians, looting property and contributing to the cycle of retaliatory violence.

Rather than containing the Tamil insurgency, Sri Lanka’s strategy fuelled deep resentment, widened ethnic divisions and undermined any remaining legitimacy of the state among Tamil populations. It also blurred the line between state-sanctioned action and communal aggression, accelerating the breakdown of civic trust. What began as a so-called security measure ended up institutionalising ethnic conflict and played a key role in pushing Sri Lanka into a devastating civil war that lasted nearly three decades.

Assam has a long and fraught history of violence rooted in anxieties over identity, belonging and resource access.

The Assam Agitation of the late 1970s and early 1980s, driven by demands to expel so-called illegal immigrants, led to widespread unrest and culminated in the 1983 Nellie massacre, where more than 2,000 people—mostly Bengali-speaking Muslims—were killed.

Language has also been a flashpoint, with tensions erupting between Assamese speakers and linguistic minorities, including Bengalis and Bodos. These cultural anxieties were reflected in the insurgencies of the 1990s and early 2000s, led by groups like ULFA, which expressed dissatisfaction with both state and central governments and fears of Assamese identity being eroded.

More recently, the implementation of the National Register of Citizens (NRC), a list to verify citizenship, and the push for the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), a law offering fast-track citizenship to non-Muslim migrants from neighbouring countries, triggered widespread protests.

Each wave of conflict has compounded mistrust between communities and between the state and its citizens. Introducing civilian arms into this volatile mix risks aggravating these tensions and undermining any fragile peace that still holds.

The policy also brings to mind the failed Salwa Judum operation in Chhattisgarh, where tribal youth were armed to “protect” their villages from Maoists. The consequences were devastating: thousands were displaced, rights abuses became rampant and the Supreme Court ultimately deemed the entire experiment unconstitutional in 2011.

The state’s monopoly over the use of force is central to democratic legitimacy. When governments hand that authority to private citizens, they relinquish control over law and order and break the social contract – the implicit agreement between the state and its citizens, where people give up certain freedoms in exchange for protection and governance.

Chief Minister Sarma’s claim that earlier arms licences might have prevented land alienation is speculative at best and effectively endorses vigilante justice in place of policy and lawful resolution.

If the police and Border Security Force (BSF) cannot offer adequate protection—and that is assuming a genuine threat, which remains unsubstantiated—the state’s response should be to strengthen those institutions, not substitute them with armed civilians.

Once the state begins arming select groups, it ceases to be a neutral authority and starts acting as a partisan force. The timing of the policy, just ahead of the 2026 elections, reinforces the suspicion that this is political engineering with live ammunition.

By stoking insecurity and offering weapons as reassurance, the state positions itself as the protector of a threatened majority. But what it actually delivers is instability, fear and a dangerous precedent. 

You have just read a News Briefing by Newsreel Asia, written to cut through the noise and present a single story for the day that matters to you. Certain briefings, based on media reports, seek to keep readers informed about events across India, others offer a perspective rooted in humanitarian concerns and some provide our own exclusive reporting. We encourage you to read the News Briefing each day. Our objective is to help you become not just an informed citizen, but an engaged and responsible one.