Rokan's Journal

Brig Gen HRM Rokan Uddin (Retd)

The Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) have long been one of Bangladesh’s most fragile frontiers. Rugged hills, dense forests, and a border touching both India and Myanmar make the region strategically vital. Whoever controls the CHT holds a gateway to the Bay of Bengal and a corridor to India’s vulnerable Northeast. Yet, since the birth of Bangladesh, the hills have remained restless—an arena where separatist dreams, foreign interference, and national sacrifice have collided. The betrayal began during the Liberation War itself. While Bengalis shed their blood for freedom in 1971, many tribal elites in the hills sided with the Pakistani occupation forces. They saw opportunity in chaos—collecting weapons, receiving training, and preparing for a struggle of their own. For them, the birth of Bangladesh was not a unifying victory but an opening to pursue the idea of an independent “Jumma Land.”

That ambition revealed itself shockingly early. By 1973, posters appeared on trees in Dighinala carrying the words: “Bangali’r rokto niba, pahari hoba shadhin”— “With Bengali blood, the hill people will be free.” These were not idle threats. They were statements of intent, timed when the new republic was at its weakest. Sheikh Mujibur Rahman’s government was already overwhelmed by famine, political instability, and radical unrest. Into that fragility stepped tribal leaders like Manabendra Narayan Larma, and later his brother Shantu Larma, demanding autonomy, rejecting integration, and planting the seeds of secession. The regional context made matters worse. India, fresh from its 1971 victory, faced its own insurgencies in Nagaland, Mizoram, and Tripura. New Delhi feared that Dhaka might one day allow rebels to use the CHT as a corridor into India’s troubled Northeast. Instead of helping Bangladesh stabilize its frontier, India chose a more cynical course: turn the CHT into leverage against Dhaka. By offering safe havens across the border, cultivating tribal elites, and subtly encouraging the idea of a distinct “Jumma identity,” India ensured that the hills remained unsettled. Bangladesh was forced to fight for sovereignty not only against insurgents but against the shadow of its most powerful neighbor.

The logic was clear. An unstable CHT meant the Bangladesh Army was always tied down, unable to focus on national development or independent foreign policy. Whenever Dhaka resisted Indian demands—on transit, trade, or water sharing—trouble in the hills could flare up. The CHT became a pressure valve, a way to remind Bangladesh of its vulnerability.

For the tribal separatists, India’s backing was oxygen. During the 1970s, they organized under the Parbatya Chattagram Jana Samhati Samiti (PCJSS), forming the armed wing known as the Shanti Bahini. Guerrilla camps sprouted across the border in Tripura and Mizoram. Armed with weapons smuggled from their Pakistani collaborators and later supplied with Indian blessings, they launched ambushes, assassinations, and attacks on Bengali settlers. Bangladesh’s response was heavy and costly. The army deployed brigades, patrolled unforgiving terrain, and fought an elusive enemy who struck from the shadows and then disappeared into Indian sanctuaries. Many young officers and soldiers laid down their lives in those years. For them, the CHT was not just a battlefield but a crucible of sacrifice—a place where the unity of the republic was defended with blood.

But if the insurgents failed to win outright, they succeeded in another way: poisoning the relationship between communities. Bengali settlers were massacred; pro-government tribal leaders were assassinated. Fear became a weapon as much as bullets. The slogans of 1973, once dismissed as empty provocation, turned into a live nightmare for thousands. By the time the 1990s arrived, the conflict had stalemated. The insurgents could not defeat the state, but the state could not eliminate them either. India continued to play its double game—denying involvement publicly while ensuring that camps and networks thrived privately. The CHT remained a wound that refused to heal.

The lesson from those early decades is clear. The separatist dream of Jumma Land was never spontaneous. It was cultivated in betrayal, nourished by foreign patronage, and timed to exploit Bangladesh’s moments of weakness. The posters in Dighinala were not just crude slogans; they were the first shots in a long struggle against the sovereignty of Bangladesh. Half a century later, the methods of insurgency have changed—from ambushes in the jungles to propaganda on social media—but the objective remains the same. The hills are still seen by separatists, and by India, as a lever to weaken the republic. That is why remembering the origins of the crisis is vital. To forget how it began is to risk repeating the same mistakes.

Recent unrest in Khagrachhari and other parts of the Chittagong Hill Tracts is not merely local conflict. In many cases, it is the result of provocations by self-interested forces across the border. These actors fuel agitation through funding, false propaganda, and manipulation of local grievances, all aimed at weakening the unity of Bangladesh. The state must respond quickly, decisively, and within the framework of law to neutralize these threats.

First, intelligence operations must uncover the sources of external involvement, financial channels, and leadership links; such evidence should also be raised in international forums. Second, security forces must conduct targeted operations—border checks, cutting off arms flows, and dismantling terrorist networks—but always within constitutional and human rights boundaries. Third, a strong digital response is essential. False or edited propaganda spreads quickly online, so government cyber units must detect and counter misinformation with verified evidence, witness accounts, and transparent communication. Fourth, genuine engagement with local communities is vital. Expanding education, jobs, and basic services will make young people less vulnerable to outside manipulation. Community leaders, teachers, and local administrators should work together to build networks of vigilance that can detect trouble early and alert authorities. Fifth, bold diplomacy is needed. With documented evidence, Bangladesh must expose the role of external powers—particularly India—in fueling unrest and hold them accountable in global platforms.

Most importantly, every step must remain transparent, lawful, and evidence-based, so that even strong security actions are seen as legitimate. Ultimately, the most powerful weapon is national unity. If the people remain aware and united, no foreign conspiracy can succeed in destabilizing Bangladesh or undermining its sovereignty. The Chittagong Hill Tracts are not a distant periphery. They are a frontier of sovereignty. The blood spilled there—by soldiers, settlers, and loyal tribals—was spilled for the unity of Bangladesh itself. The hills must remain ours, not only in maps but in the hearts of our people. The lesson of 1973 endures: vigilance is the price of sovereignty.