In a political landscape increasingly defined by identity and exclusion, Assam’s Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma has emerged as one of the most polarizing figures. His governance has taken a distinct and aggressive approach, particularly targeting the state’s ‘Miya Muslims,’ a community he claims are infiltrators from Bangladesh. This strategy, while appealing to a segment of Assam’s indigenous population, has deepened religious and ethnic divisions in the state. Sarma’s rhetoric is blunt and unapologetic. He has openly declared that he is the Chief Minister for only “some” of Assam’s people, pointedly excluding the ‘Miya Muslims’ from his purview. These statements, while shocking to some, have resonated with a portion of the indigenous Assamese population, who see Sarma as a protector of their interests against what they perceive as a demographic and cultural invasion by Bengali-speaking Muslims. The ‘Miya Muslims’ have long been a contentious issue in Assam. Often portrayed as illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, they have been accused of altering the state’s demography, occupying significant portions of land, and overwhelming the native population. Sarma has capitalized on these fears, positioning himself as a defender of Assam’s indigenous identity.
One of Sarma’s most controversial policies has been his crackdown on madrasas, which he has linked to crimes against women. His use of bulldozers to demolish these institutions, coupled with his tough stance on issues like child marriage, has won him support among those who believe in strong, decisive action. However, these moves have also drawn criticism for targeting a specific community under the guise of law enforcement. Sarma’s latest campaign focuses on banning polygamy, a practice he associates with the ‘Miya Muslim’ community. The Assam Assembly’s recent passage of the Assam Compulsory Registration of Muslim Marriages and Divorces Bill, 2024, is a clear indication of his determination to regulate Muslim marriages, further encroaching on personal and religious freedoms. Critics argue that Sarma’s actions are less about governance and more about stoking religious and ethnic tensions. The opposition, led by the Congress, has accused him of exploiting these divisions for political gain. They warn that his policies could ignite unrest in a state already fraught with tension.
Sarma’s rise to power is as much about his political acumen as it is about the failures of his rivals. A former Congress leader, Sarma defected to the BJP after a falling out with Rahul Gandhi, whom he accused of treating him with disdain. This personal slight seems to have fuelled his ambition, and he has since become one of the BJP’s most prominent leaders in the Northeast. While Sarma’s policies have made him a hero to some, they have also drawn sharp criticism from those who see them as divisive and dangerous. The opposition’s warnings of potential unrest are not unfounded, as history has shown that such deep-rooted tensions can easily flare into violence. As Assam navigates this fraught political landscape, the question remains: Will Sarma’s hardline approach bring stability and security, or will it deepen the divisions that have long plagued the state? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain—Assam’s future is being shaped by a leader who is unafraid to take bold, controversial steps, regardless of the consequences.