I have seen Ladakh in its stillest hours: Dawn breaking over Pangong Lake, prayers whispered at Thiksey Monastery, markets closing in Kargil. To wake up in that extraordinary calm in Leh, and then to walk across to hear His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, during one of his annual visits, is to understand how inspiration and serenity coexist in this fragile frontier.
To imagine this stillness broken by gunfire is to feel the fragility of our republic’s peripheries; four dead in the recent eruption of violence cannot be dismissed as a mere law and order issue. Ladakh has given India its warriors, its faith, and its trust. A frontier that has stood by India deserves nothing less. Delhi, to its credit, has always recognised Ladakh’s unique place in the republic and must now redouble its efforts with empathy, resolve, and imagination to ensure an early return to Ladakh’s traditional peace and quiet.
Ladakh has always been one of India’s most steadfast frontiers. Its people and soldiers fought where few could even breathe and stood firm when other peripheries faltered. When raiders poured across the frontier in 1947, the Ladakh Scouts were raised from local volunteers who knew the mountains as second skin. In 1962, they resisted overwhelming odds against the Chinese. In 1971, they helped secure India’s northern defences. Most memorably, in 1999, during the Kargil War, they earned the title of Snow Warriors, fighting in terrain where survival itself was an act of defiance. Colonel Chhewang Rinchen, twice decorated with the Maha Vir Chakra, became a legend. Sonam Wangchuk’s (a colonel in the Indian army at the time, not the man at the centre of the current protest) leadership in Batalik during Kargil remains unmatched. Kushok Bakula Rinpoche, the statesman monk, secured Ladakh’s place in the Union while protecting its spiritual inheritance and serving as India’s ambassador in Mongolia, extending India’s influence into Buddhist Asia. Ladakh’s loyalty has never wavered. Delhi knows this, and it is precisely this record of sacrifice that has ensured Ladakh’s special place in the national imagination.
When Union Territory status was granted in 2019, Ladakhis celebrated. For the first time, they felt liberated from Srinagar’s shadow. The promise was of direct empowerment and a closer bond with the Union. Centralisation was inevitable in the early stages of UT governance, particularly given Ladakh’s geostrategic location at the confluence of Chinese and Pakistani frontiers. Delhi has acted with caution, mindful that this is not just a region of monasteries and pashmina but also of sensitive borders where every administrative decision has national security implications. Yet, the Centre must recognise that empowerment is essential. As Prime Minister Modi has repeatedly emphasised, integration must be accompanied by development and dignity. That delicate balance between security, ecology, and empowerment is Delhi’s challenge today.
For decades, Ladakh’s grievances were muted. Its politics was quieter, its youth less restless, its discontent rarely spilling onto the streets. That changed after UT status. Ironically, Leh and Kargil, historically divided by religion and politics, now stand united. The Leh Apex Body and the Kargil Democratic Alliance, once adversaries, have forged an unprecedented common cause. When Buddhists and Muslims of this frontier speak in one voice, Delhi must listen. There are already signs that New Delhi is opening channels of engagement. Quiet conversations have taken place, and officials who know Ladakh intimately are being asked to take the lead. One such figure is S D Singh Jamwal, the police commissioner, who is among the few administrators who truly understand Ladakh, its people, its rhythms, its silences.
Within Ladakh’s new politics, Sonam Wangchuk, the celebrated innovator, commands support amongst a section of the youth, but given Delhi’s deep suspicions of him, he would serve Ladakh better by stepping aside from direct political engagement so that negotiations are not clouded by mistrust. For this reason, the Centre should prefer collective leadership, represented through the Apex Body and the Kargil Democratic Alliance, rather than individual icons. This is wise. Ladakh’s voice is strongest when it speaks collectively. And Delhi, for its part, is committed to ensuring that a vacuum does not develop, for it is in such vacuums that foreign actors and vested interests have historically tried to fish in troubled waters. That must never be allowed in Ladakh, one of India’s most loyal frontiers.
It is true that New Delhi has been cautious in extending Sixth Schedule protections or considering statehood. These are not simple matters. They carry constitutional complexities and national precedents. Ladakh’s small population and enormous strategic sensitivities demand prudence. But caution does not mean indifference. Rather, Delhi’s approach must reflect the weight of responsibility: ensuring that empowerment for Ladakh goes hand in hand with preserving national security, ecological sustainability, and constitutional integrity. Ladakh today is not alienated, but assertive. Its people seek partnership, not separation. This is a moment of opportunity, and Delhi is well-placed to seize it. By acting decisively and compassionately, it can secure Ladakh’s trust for generations.
The way forward is clear. The Leh Apex Body and Kargil Democratic Alliance must be engaged as legitimate representatives, and dialogue must be broadened to include youth, women, and voices from remote hamlets. Hill Councils should be strengthened immediately, and a path for legislative empowerment sketched out, whether through a reformed Union Territory model, gradual devolution, or innovative provisions of the Sixth Schedule adapted for Ladakh’s unique status. Mega solar projects may power India’s green transition, but they cannot displace fragile ecosystems or pastoral livelihoods. Pashmina, Ladakh’s pride, must be preserved alongside renewable energy ambitions. Empowering Ladakh’s people strengthens, rather than weakens, India’s hand on this sensitive frontier with China and Pakistan. And national parties must rise above short-term politics. Ladakh is not a vote bank; it is a living frontier that strengthens India’s democracy.
The recent tragedy in Leh was not about stones thrown or vehicles torched. It was about dialogue deferred. When Leh and Kargil came together, the Centre could have seized the moment. Delay deepened frustration, and lives were lost. But it is not too late. Delhi has the institutions and the leadership, and must now demonstrate the will to act. History shows that the republic grows stronger when it listens to its peripheries with respect. Ladakh, which has stood guard for India through snow and storm, deserves nothing less. Delhi must now act with statesmanship that is firm, empathetic, and imaginative. That is not only in Ladakh’s interest, but in India’s national interest. Ladakh has always stood by India. Today, India, through Delhi, must demonstrate that it will always stand by Ladakh.
The writer is dean and professor, School of International Studies; former member, National Security Advisory Board (NSAB)
