If RAW and MHA Knew, What Was Assam Police Really Probing?

Assam’s political theatre has once again delivered a spectacle—loud allegations, SITs formed in haste, dramatic promises of revelations, and finally, a convenient silence wrapped in technicalities. At the center of it stands Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma, who for weeks thundered about Congress MP and Assam Pradesh Congress Committee (APCC) chief Gaurav Gogoi’s alleged “Pakistan connection.” And yet, when the much-anticipated SIT report date arrived on September 10, nothing concrete emerged—only another round of rhetoric.

The Assam Mahila Congress president, Mira Borthakur, has rightly called out the hollowness of this political exercise. “Gaurav Gogoi didn’t visit Pakistan illegally, and this was known to the R&AW and the Ministry of Home Affairs,” she told reporters, pointing out the obvious: if the country’s premier intelligence agencies and the Home Ministry were aware, how did a state-level SIT expect to conjure up evidence of wrongdoing?

This controversy, however, raises deeper questions that go beyond party politics.

Why was the Chief Minister so sure about September 10?

From February to September, the Chief Minister has repeatedly asserted that Gogoi’s foreign visit carried shades of illegality. Then he boldly announced that on September 10, the “truth” would be revealed. Such confidence demands scrutiny. Was there an actual report that promised explosive findings? Or was the date chosen merely to stretch a controversy until it could no longer be sustained? Today, Sarma’s statements sound more measured and logical—but why didn’t he strike that tone months ago?

And here lies the irony: the SIT had until September 10 to file its report. No extension was requested, yet the Chief Minister himself confirmed that he hasn’t even read it. His words now convey a careful retreat: “I will have to read the report first… If I find it very serious, I may have to talk to the Prime Minister or the Home Minister. Not serious, then there will be another procedure.”

In plain terms, the grand promise of disclosure has been reduced to bureaucratic hesitation.

Can an SIT even investigate this?

Foreign visits by parliamentarians fall strictly under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of External Affairs and, in sensitive cases, under the watch of R&AW and IB. A state-level SIT, supervised by a Superintendent of Police, lacks the mandate and access to probe diplomatic or confidential international movements. Confidentiality clauses in MEA procedures would ensure that much of the critical information remains outside the SIT’s reach. This makes the entire exercise appear less like an investigation and more like a political stunt designed to fuel suspicion.

Different rules for Pakistan?

Another question arises: do the rules change for an MP travelling to Pakistan? In reality, no. Whether an Indian MP visits France, Germany, or Pakistan, the procedure remains the same—intimation to the MEA, clearance if required, and monitoring by intelligence agencies. If Gaurav Gogoi had travelled in violation of these rules, the matter would have escalated to the Parliament and national security apparatus, not just the Assam Police. The silence from New Delhi speaks volumes.

The Politics of Postponement

Reliable opposition sources now hint that the SIT report’s disclosure may be “postponed” due to the Prime Minister’s visit to Assam on September 13. If true, this delay underscores the tactical nature of the entire controversy. Why rush to conclude the matter before the Prime Minister arrives, when keeping it alive serves electoral optics better?

The Larger Betrayal

At its heart, this controversy reveals a deeper betrayal—not of Gogoi or the Congress, but of the people of Assam. Citizens were promised revelations and shown the spectacle of their MP painted as a “Pakistani agent.” They were told to expect a bombshell on September 10. Instead, they are left with smoke and mirrors. Meanwhile, critical issues of governance, inflation, floods, unemployment, and law-and-order fade conveniently into the background.

Mira Borthakur’s remarks cut through this fog. “The Chief Minister might have thought the public’s memory is short,” she said. Perhaps that is the calculation—that noise can substitute for truth, and controversy can hide failures.

But memory in politics is not always as short as leaders hope. If the SIT exercise collapses under its own contradictions, this controversy may return to haunt those who engineered it—not Gaurav Gogoi, but the very state leadership that weaponized it.

Also Read: No More Bluster: September 10 Demands Evidence, Not Rhetoric