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Strife Series: Post-Conflict Political Economy & Development - Introduction

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People arrive at dawn to Awerial settlement fleeing the conflict in Bor, South Sudan (2014). Photo Credit: Oxfam, Licensed under Creative Commons

Since the mid-twentieth century, the distinctions between “wartime” and “peacetime” have been increasingly blurred. Beyond the battlefield, the outbreak of violence impacts institutions both seen and unseen, with implications that often outlast active conflict. War-to-peace transitions have been widely studied through a range of analytical frames. Yet, rarely are such transitions linear from a state of violence to a state of peace. To address such conceptual grey areas, scholars have approached these intersections through lenses such as “positive” and “negative” peace, or “violent peace,” which capture nuance in classification but do not always address subtleties within and across various contexts.

The “survival of the war economy” series aims to provoke questions surrounding political economies of violence in such settings. The implications of using “peacetime” institutions as weapons in conflict, and the transformation of “wartime” institutions and practices into peacetime pose key challenges for academics and policymakers alike in grappling with the implications of violence and its aftermath.

The two pieces approach this theme from contrasting perspectives. While “Sinews of War” disentangles the lifeline that wartime funding mechanisms provided to the French resistance during World War II. “The Entangled State” points to the muddling of boundaries between (non)state institutions and actors, examining Northern Ireland and Liberia as case studies. Both pieces, nevertheless, highlight the importance of nuanced approaches to conflict and peacebuilding and the ways in which “illicit,” “extra-legal,” or “non-state” spaces may provide opportunities for resilience and adaptation.

From these articles, key debates surrounding agency and collaboration emerge, wherein civilian actors and institutions are bound by contexts that are neither straightforward nor simple. These two pieces offer a glimpse into these spaces and the insight they offer for academics and practitioners alike.

Strife Series: Colonial Legacies – Afghanistan - Haunted by its Colonial Borders

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British Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab visits the Afghanistan-Pakistan border, September 2021. Photo credit: Number 10, used under Creative Commons

Afghanistan’s border with Pakistan is a powder keg. Last year, Taliban fighters were recorded shouting ‘Death to Pakistan’ and warning ‘if you come a step further, I will fight you’. Actual confrontations have become commonplace in recent weeks: the Taliban has attempted to destroy sections of fencing, and skirmishes have caused several deaths on both sides. To better understand this current crisis, we must look at Afghanistan’s history.

At first glance, Afghanistan stands out as an anomaly. Unlike most states in South Asia, it was never directly colonised by Europeans, and its reputation as the ‘graveyard of empires’ highlights the difficulties it has posed to numerous invaders. Yet, Afghanistan itself was a colonial conception. How can we explain this paradox, and how do the legacies of colonialism continue to afflict Afghanistan?

The British Empire was never able to conquer Afghanistan, despite repeated attempts. In one instance, the Afghans utterly humiliated a supposedly ‘superior’ force, slaughtering thousands of soldiers and civilians in 1842.[i] But such defeats were tactical, not strategic. In fact, Britain’s primary goal was always to protect India—the Empire’s ‘jewel in the crown’—from Russian expansion. In this imperial rivalry (known as the ‘Great Game’), complete control over Afghanistan was only one way of turning it into a buffer state. A ‘semi-colonial’ arrangement suited the British just fine; it was easier, in fact equally effective, to influence Afghanistan’s politics from afar.[ii]

This ‘semi-colonialism’ enabled the British to define the borders—and thus the fundamental meaning—of ‘Afghanistan’ as a nation-state. Before British meddling, Afghanistan did not exist as the clearly defined territorial entity that it is today. That was until 1893 when Mortimer Durand set out to demarcate Afghanistan’s frontier with British India. The resulting Durand Line carved the Pashtun people, a significant ethnic group, in two. Like most artificially designed colonial boundaries, the line ignored existing demarcations and cut through villages and even individual homes. Paying little heed to such consequences, the British mapped the border along with topographical features that would block mountain pathways into their sphere of influence. The Western Pashtuns were incorporated first into British India, and then Pakistan following the partition in 1947.[iii]

Much of Afghanistan and Pakistan’s present difficulties stem from this traumatic separation. The Afghan government has never accepted the Durand Line, which President Karzai called ‘a line of hatred that raised a wall between… two brothers’. Afghanistan’s repeated demands for an independent ‘Pashtunistan’ have heightened tensions surrounding the border. Pakistan, though, does recognise the Durand Line, seeing it as fundamental to preserving its territorial integrity. Like Afghanistan, Pakistan is an artificial construct, and it has struggled to hold itself together. In 1971, East Pakistan fought a war of independence against West Pakistan and became Bangladesh. Subsequently, Pakistan has clung to the Durand Line, fearing that its extensive Pashtun population would seek independence too, and the country would collapse.[iv]

It is this border dispute, and the history of British colonialism, that help to explain the Taliban’s rise. Ever since its imperial subjugation, Afghanistan’s rulers have been made dependent on external resources. [v] Emir Abdur Rahman, for example, relied on cash subsidies from British India and therefore had to accept the Durand Line.[vi] The Afghan mujahidin were also hampered by dependency. They had defeated the Soviet invaders but were unable to fill the power vacuum that emerged. They possessed little unifying ideology and splintered into competing factions, a reflection of wider Afghan society, whose tribal divisions became deeply entrenched due to British rule. What’s more, the United States and Saudi Arabia no longer wished to fund Afghanistan after the Soviet Union collapsed and the Cold War ended.

Pakistan, however, kept a close eye on its neighbour, seeking to establish a sympathetic regime that would be dominated by Pashtuns. It found its answer in the Taliban, a deeply fundamentalist Islamist group, which by 1998 controlled almost all areas of Afghanistan. During the Soviet-Afghan war, Pakistan had become a rear base of operations for some mujahidin factions and the Pakistani-Taliban relationship had been formalised. While the security the Taliban provided was popular, its oppressive religious doctrine was not, and it led to the Taliban’s isolation from the international community. Thus, it increasingly sought the backing of Pakistan and Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaeda.[vii] Despite officially changing its policy after 9/11 and declaring that it would join the ‘war against terrorism’, sympathies toward the Taliban persist in Pakistan.[viii]

The contested nature of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border has had significant implications for the War on Terror. On a map, the Durand Line appears clear, but on the ground, neither Afghanistan nor Pakistan possesses true sovereignty.[ix] Though they were quickly routed following the invasion of Afghanistan, Taliban and al-Qaeda members were able to escape across Pakistan’s porous border, where the social code (Pashtunwali) compelled Pashtuns to provide hospitality.[x] Many prominent al-Qaeda leaders—including Osama bin Laden—remained undetected there for years. Had US special forces teams been able to trap them within Afghanistan, the war would not have dragged on for so long.

Yet, thanks to its permeability, the Durand Line became a hotbed of the insurgency in Afghanistan, characterised by brutal violence. In 2008, CIA director Michael Hayden warned that the border ‘presents a clear and present danger’. The Taliban taking refuge there targeted Pakistani soldiers and police with suicide attacks and IEDs.[xi] US drone strikes, which have killed more than 9,000, including 1,000-2,000 civilians, have further violated the border’s sovereignty. Recently, the Taliban’s return to power has created an extensive refugee crisis, with many attempting to cross into Pakistan. Citing national security concerns, Pakistan has closed its border with Afghanistan and is attempting to complete the many miles of fencing being constructed across the Durand Line.[xii]

Afghanistan’s colonial borders also account for the failure of state-building there. Unable to subsume it into their empire, the British viewed Afghanistan as a ‘savage frontier’ that needed to be isolated from ‘civilization’. The Durand Line symbolised this marginalisation. Thus, Afghanistan was subjected to external control without any of the ‘benefits’ brought by outright colonisation; when the British left India, new elites could use pre-existing institutions to build a postcolonial state that imitated European ideals of behaviour. This was not possible in Afghanistan, yet the country is still expected to act as a Weberian state.[xiii]

During their occupation of Afghanistan, the US and the international community attempted to impose state institutions from the top down. They poured billions of dollars into the country for little gain, with one official claiming they were ‘given money, told to spend it and did, without reason’. Vast sums found their way into the hands of corrupt officials and warlords, many of whom had committed or profited from human rights abuses. Several of these same actors quickly sided with the Taliban when the opportunity arose.[xiv]

When these policies failed, the US blamed Afghanistan and its culture for failing to meet its expectations of statehood. Alternative social formations, such as the jirga process (an assembly of tribal leaders aiming to solve disputes through consensus), were condemned for undermining the state-building process. However, due partly to Britain’s colonial policies, Afghan society is based on customs and norms, and the state does not possess any universal monopoly or legitimacy, being only one of several competing forces.[xv]

Nor did President Biden take sufficient responsibility for the US’ disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan, which left thousands stranded, including those who had fought hard for incremental increases in their liberties. Instead, he blamed the Afghans, remarking that ‘we gave’ them ‘every chance to determine their own future. What we could not provide them was the will to fight for it’. The United States was shocked by the pace at which the Taliban was able to destroy the systems they had constructed over the course of two decades. But, given Afghanistan’s history of colonialism, should this be so surprising?

[i] Christian Tripodi, ‘Grand Strategy and the Graveyard of Assumptions: Britain and Afghanistan, 1839–1919’, The Journal of Strategic Studies, Vol. 33, No. 5 (2010), p. 713

[ii] Ibid., pp. 710-711

[iii] Nick Cullather, ‘Damning Afghanistan: Modernization in a Buffer State’, The Journal of American History, Vol. 89, No. 2 (2002), pp. 512-537, and Thomas Johnson and Chris Mason, ‘No Sign until the Burst of Fire: Understanding the Pakistan-Afghanistan Frontier’, International Security, Vol. 32, No. 4 (2008), pp. 67-68

[iv] Elisabeth Leake and Daniel Haines, ‘Lines of (In)Convenience: Sovereignty and Border-Making in Postcolonial South Asia, 1947–1965’, The Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 76, No. 4 (2017), pp. 973-974, and Johnson and Mason, ‘No Sign Until the Burst of Fire’, pp. 67-68

[v] Thomas Barfield, ‘Problems in establishing legitimacy in Afghanistan, Iranian Studies, Vol. 37, No. 2 (2004), p. 285

[vi] Nivi Manchanda, Imagining Afghanistan: The History and Politics of Imperial Knowledge (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2020), p. 81

[vii] Barfield, ‘legitimacy’, p. 288

[viii] Ijaz Ahmad Khan, ‘Understanding Pakistan’s Pro-Taliban Afghan Policy’, Pakistan Horizon, Vol. 60, No. 2 (2007), p. 141

[ix] Leake and Haines ‘Lines of (In)Convenience’, pp. 963-985

[x] Johnson and Mason, ‘No Sign Until the Burst of Fire’, p. 63

[xi] Ibid., p. 65

[xii] https://thewire.in/south-asia/pakistan-afghanistan-ties-come-under-strain-after-taliban-opposes-border-fencing

[xiii] B.D. Hopkins, The Making of Modern Afghanistan (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), pp. 168-173, and Manchanda, Imagining Afghanistan, p. 86

[xiv] Kimberly Marten, ‘The Danger of Tribal Militias in Afghanistan: Learning from the British Empire’, Journal of International Affairs, Vol. 63, No. 1 (2009), p. 163

[xv] Hopkins, Modern Afghanistan, p. 172

Strife Series: Colonial Legacies - How has the colonial past of Myanmar influenced the attitude of the ruling elites today with regard to the coup and ongoing genocide?

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Protest in Myanmar against Military Coup 14-Feb-2021. Source: Wikipedia Commons, licensed under Creative Commons.

The targeting of the Rohingya communities in Myanmar today is nothing short of a ‘textbook example of ethnic cleansing’ [1]. To this day, 900,000 Rohingya refugees have sought shelter in the neighbouring state of Bangladesh [2], driven out by military-led attacks in the Northern Rakhine State. This is a surprising fact considering the supposed ‘democratic’ nature of Aung Sung Suu Kyi’s government. Furthermore, given the country’s announcement of its intention to transition from an authoritarian state (controlled by the military, the Tatmadaw) to a democratic one in 2011, how can we understand this obvious abuse of power?

At present, there are two key narratives which can explain why the Rohingya have been targets of targeted ethnic violence. Firstly, during the military regime (1962-2011) the Rohingya came to be identified as ‘illegal immigrants’ by the passing of new exclusionary legislation and secondly, that they posed a security threat because of their ‘expansionist’ agenda. The origins of both of these narratives can be traced back to colonial times. However, whilst they didn’t actively discriminate against the Rohingya, colonial policies shaped the Rohingya into a vulnerable target to be scapegoated both by the military and majority Burmese and extremist Buddhist groups later on.

So, what has been the response of the civilian government to this humanitarian crisis and how has the military justified its blatant ethnic violence? In 2019, the then Prime Minister and Nobel Peace prize winner, Ms. Suu Kyi testified in front of the International Court of Justice, defending the military against allegations of ethnic cleansing. Ms. Suu Kyi’s response was vague, referring only to the possibility that a disproportionate use of force had been applied [3]. This highlights the fragility of the civilian government in Myanmar and that its continued existence is dependent on good relations with the military elites. Myoe (2011) argued that so long as democratisation occurred within the confines of the 2008 military Constitution, the democratic rule would be tolerated [4]. For example, given Ms. Suu Kyi’s party, the National League for Democracy’s (NLD) increased majority after the 2020 elections [5], it is unsurprising that the Tatmadaw initiated a military coup. Even with their fixed 25% of parliamentary seats, the military would have been unable to oppose the NLD’s popular agenda to pass constitutional reforms. Ultimately these reforms would have prevented the military from blocking liberalising reforms in parliament, resulting in the limitation of their political power.

Against this backdrop, how has colonialism contributed to this current state of affairs? On the most basic level, the colonial period in Myanmar saw the re-configuration of ethnic identity, which can be argued to set the foundations for the Rohingya to be resented by the majority groups and later actively discriminated against during the military regime. The use of ‘divide-and-rule’ is a common strategy of colonial powers, involving the separating and re-organisation of sub-national groups in society and is used to assert colonial power more efficiently [6]. This strategy re-configured how society viewed ethnic identity [7] and ultimately resulted in a ‘highly polarised multi-ethnic society, where ethnic consciousness was significantly enhanced’ (Cornish, 2021, 14). This shift was important because it occurred over a long period, meaning that as different ethnic groups were consolidated within themselves at different times, different groups ended up having different experiences of British colonialism. Therefore, the British period increased the salience of ethnic identity, which is often argued to be the source of conflict in multi-ethnic states.

This leads to my second point, one that emphasises the origins of the Rohingya community in Myanmar, which is arguably one of the key root causes of the current conflict and has been used to legitimise anti-Rohingya violence. Britain’s occupation of Myanmar was achieved in three stages, starting with the colonisation of Arakan and Tannaserrim states in the South [8]. During this first stage of colonization, the British encouraged the flow of migrant workers from British occupied Chittagong, India into the Rakhine state [9]. This is incredibly important because the military regime used this to denounce the Rohingya as ‘illegal immigrants’ and being of Indian rather than Burmese descent. For example, the 1982 Citizenship Act revoked citizenship for approximately 600,000 Rohingya on the basis that they were not an indigenous group. Not only did this strip over half a million previous citizens of political rights, but it denied their existence as one of the 135 recognised ethnic groups by the state, further stripping them of the ability to acquire jobs or healthcare. This was the first time that belonging to one of the ‘national races’ had become a prerequisite for citizenship. So, whilst the politicisation of ethnic identity occurred after the end of British rule, it is unlikely that such a policy would have been passed without Britain’s re-organisation of ethnicity into separate identities, and labour migrant policies during the first stage of occupation.

Now with regard to the second narrative mentioned earlier; that the Rohingya are perceived to be a threat to the Buddhist majority, we can again trace the origins of this narrative to colonial times. Prior to the Second World War, the Rohingya were already resented by other ethnic groups because of favouritism from the British [10]. This was exacerbated during the War when the British promised the Rohingya their own homeland in return for their support; a stark contrast to the Burmese majority supporting the Japanese. Bearing this in mind, the perception of the Rohingya as a separatist ethnic minority can be better understood. In a sermon delivered by a leading radical Buddhist monk and leader of the anti-Rohingya ‘969 Movement’, U Wirathu claimed the Rohingya would seek to prioritise the survival of their own ethnic group above that of the nation. In other words, he claimed the Rohingya associated with their ethnic identity, over their national identity. This insight into the attitude of a leading extremist Buddhist figure reinforces the notion that developments during and since the Second World War have consolidated the Rohingya’s reputation as a group that threatens the unity of Myanmar.

To sum this all up, the instigators of violence towards the Rohingya were not rooted in colonial times, but the conditions which made the Rohingya susceptible to scapegoating and vulnerability were created by the British regime. Today the Rohingya’s portrayal as a secessionist seeking, outsider group with no formal ties to being a national race or indigenous ethnic group within Myanmar can explain the current policies that seek to remove them from Myanmar’s history.

References

[1] OHCHR. “Mission report of OHCHR rapid response mission to Cox’s Bazar.” (2017).

[2] UN News. ‘Security Operations by Myanmar Show “Established Pattern” of Domination over Ethnic Groups – UN Expert’, 1 February 2018. https://news.un.org/en/story/2018/02/1001741.

[3] UN News. ‘Aung San Suu Kyi Defends Myanmar from Accusations of Genocide, at Top UN Court’, 11 December 2019. https://news.un.org/en/story/2019/12/1053221.

[4] Myoe, Maung Aung. “The soldier and the state: the Tatmadaw and political liberalization in Myanmar since 2011.” South East Asia Research 22, no. 2 (2014): 233-249.

[5] BBC News. ‘Myanmar: Aung San Suu Kyi’s Party Wins Majority in Election’, 13 November 2020, sec. Asia. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-54899170.

[6] Ansar, Anas. “The Unfolding of Belonging, Exclusion and Exile: A Reflection on the History of Rohingya Refugee Crisis in Southeast Asia.” Journal of Muslim Minority Affairs 40, no. 3 (2020): 441-456.

[7] Cornish, Grace. 2021. ‘The Rohingya Conflict: Origins of Violence and The Buddhist Narrative’. Undergraduate Dissertation, University of York, 2021.

[8] Ganesan, Narayanan. “Democratization and its implications for the resolution of ethnic conflict in Myanmar.” Asian Journal of Peacebuilding 5 (2017).

[9] Rahman, K.A., 2015. Ethno-political conflict: The Rohingya vulnerability in Myanmar. International Journal of Humanities and Social Science Studies, 2(1), pp.288-95.

[10] Schonthal, Benjamin. “Making the Muslim other in Myanmar and Sri Lanka.” Islam and the state in Myanmar: Muslim-Buddhist relations and the politics of belonging (2016): 234-257.

[11] Tech Truth. “The Holy Buddhist Monk Ashin Wirathu Addressing His People”. YouTube video, 00:21.4 April, 2021. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epZ1bboWSdw.

Strife Series: Colonial Legacies - Seeds of Violence - A Colonial Tale of Undivided Assam and its tryst with Ethnic Conflict

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Achik Matkrik Elite Force (AMEF) members surrender to Police, 22 January 2016. Photo Credit: Vishma Thapa, Licensed under Creative Commons

The strategic importance of the North Eastern states of India could not be disputed during the long stretch of colonial rule in India. Unifying the North East into British India was of absolute political necessity, concerning the relations with what was then known as Burma. The physical geography of North Eastern India, especially states like Assam, is mountainous. The presence of a plethora of tribal groups including the Miris, Mikirs, Lushai, Jaintia and Khamptis made the task of colonial administration very tricky in these spaces of both geographical and political upheavals. The margins of linguistic diversity and cultural practices in this region renders it an exciting place for any form of anthropological excavation. It is still considered a “miniature India,” marking the presence of such diverse ethnic groups. Ethnicity has played a major role in the politics of Assam since colonial times. Therefore, in order to make sense of the post-colonial developments in Assam, one needs to contextualize its colonial roots first. The nature of militarization, the rise of insurgent groups demanding secession, and frequent violent clashes between ethnic groups that we witness now in Assam in the 21st century, all have roots set in its colonial legacy.

The rationale of colonial interest in Assam was purely monetary in nature. The colonization of Assam’s tea estates was the beginning of the larger scheme of division and exploitation. The language policy in the valley was suppressive, making the Bengali community more dominant compared to the “Assamese” in language training. The creation of a new top-down hierarchy of Bengali officials made the landscape of Assam more divided, marking the onset of both social and economic exploitation. One of the most important waves of migration, during the colonial years, was the migration of peasants from East Bengal. This also marked demographic changes in the sub-region, provoking public pressure. The “Line System” was conceived in 1916 in response to these demographic changes in Assam, which made the Assamese-speaking population more susceptible to “otherized” communities. The Line System was an administrative decision of drawing a line between the tribal tracts in the hilly areas and the general districts of Assam. This exercise of boundary drawing set a limit to district jurisdiction and started defining areas of autonomy and areas of control. The inception of drawing the Inner Line can be narrowed down to the Bengal Eastern Frontier Regulation of 1873. The drawing of administrative lines bifurcated the supposedly “hill tracts” and “plain areas”. The British interest in administering these spaces was twofold. Firstly, for revenue-generating concerns and secondly, the political significance of governing the North East. British interest in tea plantations, and surveying of land for this purpose, forced them to arrive at conflicting standoffs with hill tribes. Under these contexts, the boundaries were drawn to administratively focus on plain areas and keep the hill tracts under autonomy. This colonial mindset precipitated the hardened bifurcation between the hills and the plains.

The larger British political interest in the North Eastern Frontier grew more concrete with French involvement in Burma in the 1890s. And subsequently, the rise of China in South East Tibet. These concerns forced the British to spearhead the “line system” even further, with the creation of buffer states. The politics of boundary-making and autonomy around the hill tracts created consolidated cultural identities and a sense of alienation of the hill tribes in post-colonial India as well. The construction of categories like excluded areas, and backward tracts became a framework of governance even after Independence where identities had grown political wings. The neglect of plain tribes like the Bodo Kacharis and their conflict with the umbrella identity of “Assamese” in post-colonial India, was a breeding ground for the streaks of ethnic violence one witnesses in this region.

Independent Assam was built on the colonial understanding of divisive institutionalism. The constitutional protection of autonomy under the Sixth Schedule was granted to states like Assam, to maintain their own autonomous district councils. This gave considerable autonomy to the hills and frontier tribes of Assam. But the alienation of the plains tribes like the Bodo Kacharis, and their general political neglect, made it a breeding ground for future insurgencies. The very division of hills and plains was a colonial construct, which had little significance in contemporary Assamese Politics. The creation of consolidated racial identities, along with political under-representation—created a cocktail strong enough to spit ethnic fires for decades to come.

Currently, Assam, and North Eastern India more generally, are dominated by large insurgent groups like the Bodoland Liberation Tiger—often clashing with other ethnic groups. These clashes were perpetuated by a series of migrations from neighbouring countries like Bangladesh in the 1970s and 1980s. This influx of “other”, “foreign”, and “alien” immigrants into the plains of Assam, further inflamed the already delicate situation. With the politicization of “Muslim” immigrants, the conflict soon took on a religious aspect within the wider political context of the 1990s. Ethnic cleansing in villages of the Kamrup District in July 2012 exemplifies the dark side of ethnic strife between Bodos and Bengali Muslims in Assam. Last year on 26th July, we witnessed clashes with the Assam and Mizoram Police forces as well. These examples are important as they draw attention to the history of such inter-state boundary related disputes, which have a colonial legacy. The colonial tendency to draw lines for administrative reasons and revenue sharing concerns has planted infinite seeds of racial alienation. The creation of institutions of autonomy in post-colonial India has ultimately caused more damage than repair.

References:

  • Baruah, S (2001): India Against Itself (New Delhi: Oxford University Press).
  • Baruah, S (2010): Ethnonationalism in India (New Delhi: Oxford University Press)
  • Brass, Paul. (1991). Ethnicity and Nationalism, Theory and Comparison. New Delhi: Sage.
  • Gait, S Ε (2003): A History of Assam (New Delhi: Surjeet Publication)
  • Goswami, Sandhya (2001), “Ethnic Conflict in Assam”, The Indian Journal of Political Science, Vol 62, June 2001.
  • Hussain, Monirul. (1992), “Tribal Question in Assam”, Economic and Political Weekly, Bombay, May 6.
  • Misra, Udayan. (1989) “ Bodo Stir: Complex Issues, Unattainable Demands”, Economic and Political Weekly. Bombay. May 2.
  • Murshid, Navine (2016) “Assam and the Foreigner Within”, Asian Survey, Vol 56, June 2016.

Strife Series: Colonial Legacies - Re-Drawing the Lines: The Construction of India’s Geopolitics and Its Impact on the Rise of Insurgencies and Separatist Movements Post-Independence

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A. J. Johnson’s 1865 map of India and Southeast Asia. Public Domain

In 1947, the Independence from British rule promised both political and religious freedom for India. However, through the last-minute implementation of partition, the British secured independence for India at the cost of a massive displacement and rise in discontent among the population. Branding India painfully, Partition has become central to modern identity in the Indian subcontinent. During this time, Partition represented the shift of political borders cutting through India to create Pakistan resulting in riots, mass casualties, and a colossal wave of migration which still weighs heavily in the hearts of many today. This event saw the movement of around 16 million Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims to what later became known as modern India. Across the Indian subcontinent, communities began experiencing a massive outbreak of sectarian violence with Hindus and Sikhs on one side and Muslims on the other. Why does it matter? To this day the redrawing of India’s borders continues to play a role as social division and separatist sentiments have given rise to insurgencies and separatist movements.

As a mosaic of ethnicities, languages, and religions, India faces the challenge of being a single homogenous state. Once ruled under different rajas, the India known to the world today is a product of British colonial legacies. Bearing in mind previous cases of the British dividing their former colonies, it comes as no surprise that most of their former colonies currently face secessionist movements. Likewise, since the independence of the country, the Indian separatists and insurgent movements have been a big issue for the country. Inheriting borders and divisions created by the colonial masters, post-colonial countries such as India continued similar policies of emphasizing existing ethnic, racial, and religious divides to manage dissent.

In addition to this factor, the Theory of deprivation states that insurgencies are preceded by a mismatch in social, economic, and political conditions along with the belief that governments are incapable of maintaining social order (339)[1]. Facing relative deprivation, India’s rise of insurgencies post-Partition, as further explored in this article, comes as no surprise.[2] India’s social division and separatism link most insurgent groups with the desire to control a particular area. Considered to be the country’s most important internal security threat, the rise of the Maoist insurgency in India can be traced back to British colonial rule. Shivaji Mukherjee highlights that ethnic/land inequality and weak development/state capacity created by the British colonial administrators set up the political opportunity structures for insurgency and secession movements[3].

To rule India, the British depended on indirect rule through princely states and zamindars known as the landlord revenue system. Through the administration of princely states, native rulers were allowed to oversee administration, taxation, and law with the condition of obeying the British[4]. Although this gave rulers substantial autonomy, past studies suggest that princely states tended to be on the lower ranks of development, bureaucratic quality, and institutions and produced prominent levels of social exclusion for the poor[5]. Despite indirect rule institutions being banned in 1947, Mukherjee points out that their effects persisted from 1950 to 1970. Therefore, capitalizing on the inequalities left behind the British rule, rebels have been able to use weak state capacities with low development and grievances to heighten their influence to become a prominent threat.

Since its Independence, India has contended with ethnic movements in various states based on demands for complete secession from India—for example, the state of Punjab wishing to form a separate country called Khalistan. Other movements are those pushing for insurrections to earn autonomy within India—for example, the Maoist Insurgency. The Khalistan movement and Maoist Insurgency in India, used indirect rule institutions, sustained ethnic/land inequality and weak development/state capacity to their advantage to expand their ideological frames. By adding a new dynamic order which drastically changed the existing social and economic order, many princely states continued to struggle to redress the grievances of their population. The Indian government’s response to the movements has varied widely, ranging from violent repression or partial accommodations to demands.

Case Studies

Khalistan Movement: In the 1980s, Punjab experienced a nationalist group imposing violent extremism to demand a separate country, ‘Khalistan’, based on the Sikh religion.[6] These claims to a new nation have been rooted as early as independence. In due course after India’s Independence, tensions between the Sikhs and the Hindus in Punjab surfaced, leading to grievances from the Sikhs against the Indian government. Disappointed by the outcome of the partition, Sikh leaders had wanted a state along Pakistani lines for the creation of a Sikh nation. Separated into the states of Punjab, Haryana, and Himachal Pradesh in 1966, many Sikhs saw their original state being further divided along linguistic lines and religious beliefs. As a result, between 1980 and 2000, the Khalistan movement gained traction for its attempts to create an independent state followed by a series of violent events including bombings, the assassination of Indira Gandhi, kidnappings, selective killings, and massacres of civilians. In 1984, the movement took to the international stage as Canada-based Khalistan separatists conducted an attack on an Air India flight en route from Toronto to New Delhi.[7] As the movement continued and the violence escalated, tensions between the Hindu and Sikh communities furthered. On the one hand, anti-Hindu propaganda encouraged violence against the Hindus and on the other, the Indian Government with the local Punjab police responded with force, at times committing human rights abuses to end the militancy.

Naxalite-Maoist Insurgency: India’s Naxalite-Maoist started in the 1920s as an anti-colonial struggle when the country was still ruled by Britain. The first radical Marxist movement arose shortly after independence in the southern state of Andhra Pradesh. The first armed uprising was launched in 1967 when a landlord killed a landless worker in Naxalbari village for ploughing a patch of land (253).[8] Encountering the Communist Party of India-Marxist-Leninist (CPI-ML), the Naxals and the Communists united to overthrow the ‘semi-colonial and semi-feudal Indian state’ through a people’s war which was put down by force after 72 days (about 2 and a half months). However, while the attack was officially shut down other actors were inspired to take up the cause. During the following eight years, the movement splintered, and grievances witnessed a decline. With the liberalization of the Indian economy in 2004, the movement relapsed as the exploitation of forest resources by the private sector grew. Following the merger of the CPI-M-L (People’s War) and the Maoist Communist Centre of India (MCCI), the Naxals became a powerful agrarian movement to establish a socialist-communist rule. Estimated to be around 11,500 fighters and 38,000 fighters armed with basic weapons (bows and arrows and machetes), the Naxalites fought for anti-mining agitation, land acquisition and discrimination based on caste[9]. Due to the resulting Naxalite threat, the Indian government took drastic measures against the movement as 84 million tribal became victims of violence and counter-violence with the eradication of the group[10]. While the government was successful in crushing the insurgency, the impact of the British colonial legacy remains to be a root issue of the grievances faced by many including those who attempted to take on the Naxalite-Maoist insurgency.

Seven and a half decades later, India continues to be impacted and shaped by its colonial past. Constituting diverse ethnic backgrounds and religious beliefs, when governed as a homogenous place, India faces the risk of abetting insurgencies and separatist movements. While insurgencies are extremely difficult to defeat once entrenched, by addressing community grievances and recognizing the importance of inclusive politics it is possible to prevent them from taking root in the first place. Thus, moving forward the rise of radical politics with inflammatory language is a serious threat to India’s stability.

[1] Gurr, Ted Robert. Why Men Rebel. London: Taylor & Francis Group, 2010.

[3] Mukherjee, Shivaji. “Colonial Origins of Maoist Insurgency in India: Historical Institutions and Civil War.” The Journal of conflict resolution 62, no. 10 (2018): 2232–2274.

[4] Fisher, Michael H. 1991. Indirect Rule in India. Residents and the Residency System, 1764- 1858. Delhi, India: Oxford University Press.

[5] Wucherpfennig, Julian, Philipp Hunziker, and Lars-Erik Cederman. 2016. “Who Inherits the

State? Colonial Rule and Post-Colonial Conflict.” American Journal of Political Science

60 (4): 882-98.

[6] Gupte, Pranay. 1985. “THE PUNJAB: TORN BY TERROR.” The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/1985/09/08/magazine/the-punjab-torn-by-terror.html.

[7] Chakraborty, Chandrima. 2019. “Canada”s indifference to the 1985 Air India bombing is disturbing.” Quartz. https://qz.com/india/1652007/canadas-indifference-to-the-1985-air-india-bombing-is-disturbing/.

[8] Ahlawat, Dalbir. “Maoist Insurgency in India: Grievances, Security Threats and Counter-Strategies.” Journal of policing, intelligence and counter terrorism 13, no. 2 (2018): 252–266.

[9] Kumar, Kamal. 2013. “Analysis: India”s Maoist challenge | Features.” Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2013/8/24/analysis-indias-maoist-challenge.

[10] Ibid