From Promises to Protests — The Arrest of Sonam Wangchuk and the Struggle for Constitutional Safeguards

 Introduction

When an icon of innovation and social change like Sonam Wangchuk is arrested under the National Security Act (NSA), it forces the nation to pause and question: what is going wrong in Ladakh? Once considered a relatively quiet region of high mountains and cold deserts, Ladakh today is the site of a deep political rupture between the people’s expectations and the heavy hand of the state.

On September 24, 2025, Leh witnessed something it had never seen before: fires, clashes, and police bullets in the streets. For a region long associated with quiet resilience and peaceful movements, this was a breaking point. Soon after, Sonam Wangchuk Ladakh’s most respected voice, an innovator and educator was arrested under the draconian National Security Act (NSA). The government blames him for inciting violence. But the story is much deeper than a single protest turning ugly. It is about broken promises, ignored demands, and the silencing of dissent.

In this blog, I’ll walk you through how Ladakh reached this stage: from the 2019 revocation of Article 370, to the demands of its people, to the peaceful protests that turned tragic. I’ll also reflect on Wangchuk’s contributions, why he was targeted, and what this means for Indian democracy.

From Article 370 to Union Territory: A Hopeful Start That Soured

When Article 370 was scrapped in August 2019, Ladakh was carved out as a Union Territory, separate from Jammu & Kashmir. Many Ladakhis celebrated. For decades, they felt ignored under Kashmir-centric politics, and Union Territory status promised direct attention from Delhi.

But there was a catch: unlike Jammu & Kashmir, Ladakh was made a UT without a legislature. That meant no local assembly, no elected chief minister, and very little say in how the region was run. Real authority shifted to a Lieutenant Governor appointed by Delhi. The existing hill councils in Leh and Kargil remained, but with limited powers. Soon, the optimism faded into frustration. Ladakhis realized they had gained separation from Kashmir but lost autonomy over their own affairs.

The absence of constitutional safeguards such as Sixth Schedule protections that shield land and resources in tribal areas deepened the worry. Who would protect Ladakh’s fragile ecology and unique culture if outsiders were free to buy land and businesses here? Who would ensure jobs for Ladakhi youth? This fear planted the seeds of today’s movements.

What Ladakhis Are Fighting For

The protests in Ladakh are not aimless. They are driven by four clear demands:

Statehood for Ladakh: To have an elected assembly and government that can make laws for the region.

Sixth Schedule inclusion: To protect Ladakh’s tribal land, culture, and resources from external exploitation.

Reservation and domicile protections: To ensure Ladakhis get priority in government jobs and land rights.

Environmental safeguards: To preserve Ladakh’s fragile mountains, glaciers, and traditional ways of life from unchecked industrial projects.

These are not separatist demands they are democratic demands rooted in India’s constitutional framework. Ladakhis are asking for guarantees that would allow them to thrive without losing their identity.

 What the Government Has Done and What It Hasn’t :

To its credit, the central government has not been entirely silent. Over the past five years:

Job and domicile rules were introduced, reserving 85% of government jobs for Ladakh residents.

Five languages Hindi, Urdu, Bhoti, Purgi, and English were recognized as official in the UT.

Infrastructure projects were launched, including tunnels, bridges, and renewable energy plants.

Dialogue committees were set up with local groups.

But the heart of the issue remains untouched. There is still no statehood, no Sixth Schedule protection, and no binding commitment from Delhi. Instead of deepening democracy in Ladakh, the government has centralized power further. To many locals, these half-measures look like distractions shiny announcements that leave the core political demand unresolved.

 A Movement Built on Peace

Since 2020, Ladakhis have chosen peaceful protest as their weapon. There were hunger strikes in the freezing cold, silent marches across Leh, interfaith prayer meetings, and mass sit-ins. In September 2025, Sonam Wangchuk himself sat on a hunger strike for 35 days, drawing national attention. The mood was disciplined and non-violent. The message was simple: we want rights, not conflict.

Even as months passed with little progress, the movement avoided aggression. That restraint became its strength. People across India admired Ladakh for keeping its struggle peaceful.

September 24: When Peace Broke

Everything changed on September 24. Two elderly hunger strikers collapsed and were rushed to hospital. News spread quickly, igniting anger among Ladakh’s youth. Crowds gathered at Leh’s Martyrs’ Ground. Shops shut down in protest. Emotions ran high.

By evening, the situation spiraled out of control. Protesters set fire to the BJP office in Leh and damaged police vehicles. Security forces responded with tear gas, lathis, and reportedly live bullets. Four protestors were killed. For the first time in Ladakh’s modern history, blood was spilled in a political protest.

Wangchuk, deeply disturbed, ended his hunger strike the next day and appealed for calm. But the narrative had already shifted. The government painted the violence as the fault of the movement’s leaders.

Why Target Wangchuk?

Why did the government zero in on Sonam Wangchuk? The reasons are obvious:

Moral authority: Wangchuk is not a fringe figure. He is an innovator, educator, and global icon. His influence among youth gives the movement strength.

International visibility: His arrest draws headlines worldwide, embarrassing the government. Silencing him minimizes scrutiny.

Institutional pressure: By canceling the foreign funding license of his NGO SECMOL and revoking land for his alternative university (HIAL), authorities cut off his platforms.

Deterrence: Arresting him under the NSA sends a warning: if someone as respected as Wangchuk can be jailed, anyone can.

Deterrence: Arresting him under the NSA sends a warning: if someone as respected as Wangchuk can be jailed, anyone can.

This is why critics call the case against him political, not legal. His only “crime” was giving voice to his people.

Sonam Wangchuk’s Contributions to Ladakh

To understand the outrage over his arrest, one must understand his life’s work:

Education reform: In 1988, he founded SECMOL (Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh). At a time when most Ladakhi students were failing in mainstream schools, SECMOL created an alternative system based on hands-on learning and mother-tongue education. It changed thousands of lives.

Ice stupas: His invention of ice stupas artificial glaciers storing water for summer irrigation has become a global model for climate adaptation. The project earned him the Rolex Award for Enterprise.

Sustainable architecture: Wangchuk promoted solar-heated mud buildings, allowing Ladakhis to survive -20°C winters without fossil fuels.

HIAL (Himalayan Institute of Alternatives, Ladakh): A bold attempt to build a university designed around mountain innovation teaching sustainable living, renewable energy, and community-driven development.

Youth empowerment: Beyond institutions, his message has inspired a generation of Ladakhis to believe in self-reliance and climate-conscious living.

This is why his arrest feels personal to Ladakhis. It is not just about silencing a protest leader. It is about punishing someone who has devoted his life to uplifting his community.

Democracy at Stake

The use of NSA against Wangchuk raises uncomfortable questions:

Why is peaceful protest equated with sedition?

Why does the government respond with bullets and bans instead of dialogue?

Why are constitutional demands treated as threats to national security?

India has always prided itself as the world’s largest democracy. But democracy does not survive on elections alone it survives on dissent, debate, and dialogue. When those who question the government are silenced, democracy is hollowed out from within.

Conclusion

Ladakh’s journey since 2019 is a lesson in broken promises. People hoped UT status would bring empowerment. Instead, it brought centralization. They asked for statehood, land protection, and cultural safeguards. Instead, they got curfews, internet shutdowns, and an arrested innovator.

The arrest of Sonam Wangchuk is not just about Ladakh. It is about the right of Indian citizens to demand accountability without being branded enemies of the state. If peaceful voices like his are silenced, the question is not whether Ladakh loses but whether India loses a part of its democratic soul.

Ladakh’s fight is not over. Its people continue to demand dignity and democracy. And the rest of India must ask: when citizens asking for constitutional rights are met with bullets and jails, what future are we building for our democracy?

The insight review 

Upasna Sharma