Ever since the military seized power in Myanmar by toppling the Aung San Suu Kyi-led popular civilian government, the Tatmadaw has gone on a rampage, killing ethnic natives, displacing half a million Myanmarese within the country and forcing more than 50,000 ethnic Chin and others to seek refuge outside. The death estimates vary widely: Human Rights Watch (HRW) puts the number at 1,700 and the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project claims it to be 12,000. While the exact figure may never be known, the HRW has accused the junta regime of perpetrating “crimes against humanity”.
On the first anniversary of the coup, UN Human Rights chief Michelle Bachelet remarked that what had started as a popular uprising in the wake of the coup has morphed into a “civil war”, with the popular forces putting up a stiff fight under the banner of the People’s Defence Forces (PDF). The PDF largely comprises young people who prefer to call themselves “revolutionaries”, and professionals like doctors, engineers, academics and defected police officials. Against all odds, they seem determined to take the fight to its logical conclusion — to liberate Myanmar from the junta and restore genuine democracy.
One of the spin-offs of the political turmoil in Myanmar has been an unprecedented schism between the Indian government and the Mizoram state government. The state has been in the eye of a storm that has gathered over its decision to take in Chin refugees — their number has swelled to more than 30,000. The Chin refugees currently in Mizoram are not refugees who have simply run away to save their lives. They are rebels who have opted to go into self-exile and continue to extend support to the PDF and other anti-Tatmadaw militias like the Chin Defence Force and the Chin National Army.
What is notable about the centre-state schism is the Mizoram government’s defiance of the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) orders to “detect and deport the refugees”. The state government, backed by the civil society at large, has not only extended a warm welcome to everybody wanting to come in but has also strongly communicated to New Delhi that it cannot be “indifferent” to its concerns. Despite an MHA advisory “… to stay alert and take appropriate action to prevent a possible influx into Indian territory” and further reminding the Northeastern states of Arunachal Pradesh, Manipur, Nagaland, and Mizoram that share borders with Myanmar that they have no powers to grant “refugee status to any foreigner”, the Mizoram government has exhibited exceptional magnanimity to the refugees — something which is usually expected of the Centre, since such issues fall squarely within its purview.
The contrast in the responses of the two governments emanates from the security-centric approach of the Centre and the people-centred focus of the Mizoram government. While the Centre’s tough stance could be rooted in geopolitical considerations, what is puzzling is its invocation of India’s non-ratification of the 1951 UN Convention on the Status of Refugees and its 1967 Protocol as a ground for denying asylum. Not being a party to the Convention does not preclude any state from granting asylum. Moreover, even non-signatories are bound under customary international law to follow the principle of non-refoulment that protects the rights of asylum seekers not to be deported or pushed back to the country they have fled to escape violence in the first place.
The roots of the state government’s open defiance lie in the common history of the Mizos and Chins and the unique social-political realities between the two people at the India-Myanmar international border. They share a strong ethnic bond predating India’s Independence, as they come from the same larger Zo tribe. The two are also bound together by a common religion: Mizos are predominantly Christians, as are the Chin people of Buddhist-majority Myanmar.
Along the largely unfenced Mizoram-Myanmar border, people from both sides have traditionally moved in and out freely. The Free Movement Regime (FMR) in 2018 between India and Myanmar legalised this practice. The FMR allows both the Mizos and Chins on either side to go up to 16 km on the other side and stay up to 14 days. This has facilitated ease of movement wherein a large number of borderlanders routinely cross over on either side for work and to meet relatives. Cross-border marriages are common, and so is trade in essential commodities.
There is also a fairly long history of mutual empathy and solidarity between the Mizos and the Chins. From the 1960s to the 1980s, the Chin people extended open support and sanctuary to the members of the Mizo National Front, who were fighting for secession from the Indian Union. Similarly, when the Chins were subjected to brutal repression at the hands of the junta regime during the 1988 pro-democracy movement in Myanmar, the Mizos extended a helping hand. A large number of people from the Chin State of Myanmar who had come into Mizoram then decided to stay on and eventually got integrated into the social fabric of the Mizo society.
Given all this, it appears that the Centre has probably gauged the sensitivity of the issue from the vantage point of the Mizos and has somewhat softened its aggressive posture towards both the Mizoram government and the Chin refugees after more than one year of their stay in the state. It may do even better by owning up to the refugees and helping the state government sustain the relief work, which the latter might not be able to carry out on its own in the long run: Given the volatile situation in Myanmar, the Chin refugees are likely to stay put for long. Much would depend on how the Centre recalibrates its policy toward the refugees and their hosts. As the largest democracy in the world, India must reach out to the freedom fighters in Myanmar who are spearheading a civil disobedience movement to restore what was until recently a fledgling democracy.
The writer teaches at the department of political science, Panjab University, Chandigarh
