Ladakh is only seeking security within India’s constitutional framework

FOR MOST OF INDEPENDENT INDIA’S HISTORY,  Ladakh symbolised peace, resilience, and patriotism. It has stood firm at the nation’s northern frontier, both geographically and ideologically. Yet today, the region finds itself in turmoil. What began as a peaceful demand for constitutional safeguards has spiralled into violent clashes—an alarming development in a border region where national security and democratic stability are deeply intertwined. 

Recent protests in Leh and Kargil saw stone-pelting, arson, and police firing, resulting in at least four deaths, one of whom was a Kargil war veteran  and over seventy injuries. This is perhaps the most serious escalation in Ladakh since the early 1990s. The tragedy marks a shift from constitutional assertion to public frustration, and the Union government can no longer afford to treat these demands as peripheral.

The roots of the current crisis lie in the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act of August 2019, which revoked Article 370 and bifurcated the erstwhile state into two Union Territories—Jammu & Kashmir, with a legislature, and Ladakh, without one. 

At the time, many in Ladakh welcomed the decision, believing it would empower them with direct access to the Centre and shield them from neglect by Kashmir-based administrations. Public figures such as Sonam Wangchuk, now a leading voice in the protests, had initially expressed cautious optimism. But five years later, expectations of inclusive governance lie unfulfilled. 

Ladakh today has no legislative assembly, no local law-making authority, and no constitutional safeguards for land, jobs, or culture. Decisions are made by unelected bureaucrats under the Lieutenant Governor, invoking Article 239 of the Constitution, which centralises authority in Union Territories. This creates what constitutional scholars describe as a “democratic deficit”—a condition where administrative control replaces representative governance.

The present movement is centred on two principal demands: full statehood for Ladakh and its inclusion in the Sixth Schedule of the Indian Constitution. Statehood is seen as essential for political representation and self-governance, while the Sixth Schedule offers cultural and economic safeguards that no ordinary law can guarantee. The Sixth Schedule, under Articles 244(2) and 275–279, applies to tribal-majority areas in Assam, Meghalaya, Tripura, and Mizoram. It provides for the creation of Autonomous District Councils (‘ADCs’) with legislative, financial, and judicial authority. These councils have the power to make laws on land and forests, agriculture, local customs and traditions, and dispute resolution. Importantly, their powers can override state law unless the Governor explicitly alters them. This provides a degree of permanence and security for indigenous communities, protecting their land, culture, and economic interests from potential displacement.

Ladakh’s eligibility for inclusion is undeniable. In 2019, the National Commission for Scheduled Tribes (‘NCST’) noted that 97 percent of Ladakh’s population qualifies as Scheduled Tribes and recommended immediate inclusion under the Sixth Schedule. Yet this recommendation remains unimplemented, leaving Ladakhis fearful of losing control over their resources and identity. For them, the Sixth Schedule is not just a legal provision but a constitutional shield of permanence.