The arrest of renowned climate activist and education reformer Sonam Wangchuk marks yet another grim chapter in India’s handling of dissent. On Friday, police in Ladakh detained Wangchuk under the stringent National Security Act (NSA), only days after protests demanding statehood for Ladakh and inclusion under the Sixth Schedule turned violent, leaving four people dead and nearly 90 injured. According to officials, Wangchuk was taken into custody at 2:30 pm by a police team led by Ladakh Police chief S. D. Singh Jamwal and later lodged in Rajasthan’s Jodhpur jail. The arrest comes alongside the suspension of mobile internet services in Leh, effectively choking channels of communication in a region already simmering with discontent.
The BJP-led central government has accused Wangchuk of inciting violence, but the activist firmly denied the allegations. “To say it was instigated by me is to find a scapegoat rather than addressing the core of the problem,” Wangchuk stated. His words reflect the growing frustration among Ladakh’s youth, who see the government’s broken promises as the real catalyst for the unrest. The situation has worsened further with the cancellation of the FCRA licence of SECMOL (Students’ Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh), an organisation founded by Wangchuk. The Union Home Ministry cited “financial discrepancies” and transactions against “national interest.” Critics, however, view this as another attempt to silence one of the most respected voices in Ladakh. Opposition parties have rallied against Wangchuk’s arrest, calling it a blatant misuse of power. The Congress termed the move a cover-up for the Centre’s “abysmal failure” to maintain law and order in Ladakh. Senior leader Jairam Ramesh accused the BJP of betraying Ladakhis, reminding the public that the party had promised Sixth Schedule protections during the 2020 Leh Hill Council elections—a promise that now lies in tatters. The Trinamool Congress (TMC) went further, with Sagarika Ghose accusing the Modi government of treating all dissent as “anti-national.” Similar condemnations came from regional leaders like Omar Abdullah and Mehbooba Mufti, who labelled the arrest “unfortunate” and “deeply disturbing.” The AAP’s Arvind Kejriwal also joined the chorus, describing the crackdown as a direct attack on democracy.
Wangchuk is not just a climate activist—he is a symbol of Ladakh’s aspirations. By invoking the NSA against him, the government has sent a chilling message: raising your voice for constitutional rights and environmental justice can land you behind bars. Instead of engaging with the legitimate concerns of Ladakhi’s—demands for statehood, constitutional safeguards, and protection of fragile ecosystems—the Centre has chosen to criminalize dissent. This heavy-handed approach risks deepening alienation in a strategically sensitive region that borders both China and Pakistan.
The arrest of Sonam Wangchuk is more than just the silencing of a climate activist—it is a test of India’s democratic fabric. When peaceful advocates for constitutional rights are branded as threats to “national security,” it raises uncomfortable questions: Is dissent still a democratic right in India, or has it been reclassified as a crime? For Ladakh, this arrest does not mark an end but rather an escalation of its struggle. And for the rest of India, it should serve as a wake-up call: today it is Wangchuk, tomorrow it could be anyone who dares to demand accountability from those in power. The arrest of Sonam Wangchuk under the National Security Act is not just about one man—it is a reflection of how the government has chosen to deal with Ladakh’s grievances. Instead of listening to the voices of its people, who have been peacefully demanding statehood, Sixth Schedule protections, and environmental safeguards for years, the Centre has opted to stifle dissent through fear, intimidation, and draconian laws. This sends a troubling signal, both to Ladakh and the rest of the country: that those who dare to question authority, however peacefully or constructively, can be branded as “anti-national” and silenced. What makes this move especially alarming is that Wangchuk is not a fringe agitator but a globally respected educator and environmentalist, whose life’s work has been devoted to building institutions, empowering youth, and protecting Ladakh’s fragile ecology. By criminalising his activism, the government risks not only delegitimising his struggle but also delegitimising its own credibility in the eyes of Ladakhi’s. The cancellation of SECMOL’s FCRA licence only adds to the impression of a coordinated attempt to erase his influence and weaken the people’s movement.
But repression cannot substitute for dialogue. Ladakh’s young generation is already frustrated, and ignoring or suppressing their demands will only intensify alienation in a region that is strategically vital for India’s security. Arrest of Sonam Wangchuk Government Crackdown on Dissent Exposes Ladakh’s Growing Unrest what is unfolding today in Leh is not merely a local law-and-order problem; it is a crisis of broken promises and betrayed trust. Ultimately, Wangchuk’s arrest highlights a larger, dangerous pattern in India’s democracy—where dissent is equated with sedition, and where governments increasingly view criticism as a threat rather than an opportunity to listen and reform. For a nation that prides itself on being the world’s largest democracy, the question is stark: do we want to be remembered for silencing our thinkers, or for protecting the rights of our people to speak, question, and demand justice?