Siang Sings in Protest, Not Progress

The Siang River, a lifeline of the eastern Himalayas, now finds itself at the heart of a storm brewing over forced development, militarisation, and the violation of indigenous rights. On May 23, amidst the fragile peace of Arunachal Pradesh’s Siang and Upper Siang districts, an unprecedented sixth protest erupted—this time in Beging, where villagers and members of the Siang Indigenous Farmers’ Forum (SIFF) rallied once again against the pre-feasibility survey for the proposed 11,000 MW Siang Upper Multipurpose Project (SUMP).

Behind the banners and peaceful sit-ins lies a much darker narrative—one of state overreach and eroded democratic values. Armed paramilitary personnel, deployed with chilling efficiency, stand as the government's answer to local dissent. What should have been a dialogue has been reduced to deployment. What should have been consultation is now confrontation.

The villagers—farmers, elders, students—speak a language of fear and fury. They have not eaten for days, tormented by the looming spectre of displacement. Their lands, culture, and identity, they say, are being trampled beneath the boots of central forces and the hum of drilling machines.

A Protest Stifled, A Voice Suppressed

The protestors were denied access to Beging despite prior permission. Stopped near Geku Model Village by police, SSB, and district administration officials, the villagers regrouped and held their protest in Geku instead. The sheer presence of armed personnel in villages like Geku, Yingkiong, and Boleng has paralysed public movement, igniting a wave of anxiety across the valley.

The government’s stance is unyielding. An order dated December 9, 2024, from the undersecretary of the home department, ordered force deployment across the region. One company each in Geku, Uggeng, and Jengging. Five companies—flanking both sides of Beging and Parong villages. One more at the NHPC office in Boleng. This is not facilitation; this is occupation.

The administration claims that communities have consented to the pre-feasibility report (PFR). But SIFF vehemently refutes this, stating that even the powerful Adi Baane Kebang (ABK) has not passed any resolution in support of the project. Minutes from an internal meeting are being passed off as collective endorsement. This manipulation of facts is not governance—it is gaslighting.

What’s more disturbing is the behaviour of certain officials. In a recorded instance, the Superintendent of Police in Boleng was seen addressing villagers as if campaigning on behalf of the dam developers—urging them to accept the survey, suggesting the inevitability of the project, and admitting that future governments will force it through anyway.

From Peace Bonds to Paramilitaries

Instead of addressing legitimate fears, the government is threatening protestors with "peace bond agreements." Legal intimidation replaces listening. And while villages like Parong, Komkar, and Riew have repeatedly raised concerns, no action has been taken against the surveyors. Instead, the bulldozers roll in.

The very idea of a “pre-feasibility” survey assumes open consultation and voluntary participation. Here, it is being conducted under the watchful eyes of the Indo-Tibetan Border Police and the CAPF, dressed in civilian clothes to mask the militarisation.

The SUMP is being sold as a national imperative—a shield against China’s 60,000 MW Medog Dam. But is the solution to one authoritarian act another act of authoritarianism within our own borders? The government has not released full details of the project to the affected communities. What’s being hidden, and why?

The National Institution for Transforming India (NITI Aayog) had earlier proposed a 10,000 MW version of this project. But what began as a flood-mitigation proposal is now morphing into an 11,000 MW leviathan with no new environmental or social impact studies—only intensified suppression.

The Cry from Siang

“We are Arunachali, we are Indian citizens. We deserve to be heard,” say the protestors. Their plea is simple: no dam without consent. No survey under siege. No displacement in the name of development they neither asked for nor agreed to.

Let us be clear—this is not just an environmental issue. This is a human rights crisis in the making. It is a test of whether India's democracy extends beyond city boardrooms and courtrooms into its remote valleys and indigenous heartlands.

It is not the power of the dam but the dignity of the people that is on trial in Siang. And if this silence continues, the river may soon run not just with water—but with the erosion of trust, truth, and justice.