On a cold afternoon in Leh, the capital city of Ladakh, India, the district court was unusually crowded.
About 39 men stood in the open, talking in low voices — a rare sight in a region where crime rates are among the country’s lowest.
They were arrested on charges of violence during last month’s deadly protests, which called for greater autonomy and statehood for the Buddhist-Muslim enclave in the Himalayas, which borders both China and Pakistan.
Protesters are also demanding job quotas for local residents and special status for Ladakh that would allow the creation of elected local bodies to protect its tribal areas.
While the men have since been released on bail, they share a deep sense of uncertainty.
Among them was Thinles Dorje, a man with a fearless look on his face. As others hesitated to speak, Dorje stepped forward, saying loudly, “It’s time to break the silence.”
Dorje said he was arrested while returning home from work. He denies taking part in the violence but admits that the anger in Ladakh has been simmering for years.
“For the last few years, no one was listening to our demands and talks with central government kept getting delayed,” he told DW. “What we saw … was years of anger and frustration that exploded on the day of the protest.”
Standing next to Thinles Dorje was Tundup Namgyal, a former soldier, who alleged that during his questioning by the Ladakh Police, he was asked about “Chinese and Pakistani funding” and even claimed to have been called “anti-national” by authorities — a label that has left many in the region angry and hurt.
Dorje and others expressed their frustration over being accused of colluding with foreign elements.
“We are deeply pained when we are labeled as anti-national. Our people have sacrificed their lives for this nation and now we are being treated like criminals,” Dorje told DW.
He recalls how his family and neighbors volunteered to serve in the Indian army, especially in 1999 during the so-called Kargali conflict with Pakistan, when, as nuclear powers, the two countries clashed.
Locals told DW that almost every family has supported the armed forces, by carrying supplies or providing vital border intelligence, for example.
Why are people in Ladakh protesting?
The roots of the current discontent go back to 2019, when the India’s Hindu-nationalist government revoked the special autonomous status of the nearby Muslim-majority state of Jammu and Kashmir.
The move carved out Ladakh as a separate union territory, which means it is directly governed by the Indian central government in New Delhi.
The locals in Buddhist-majority Leh celebrated this move, hoping it would bring autonomy and development.
However, after a few years, the excitement faded as promises failed to materialize, leading to widespread unemployment. The unmet promises eventually fueled the protests on September 24.
At the office of Leh Apex Body, the main group campaigning for Ladakh’s autonomy, members say that New Delhi’s “negligence” and “unfulfilled promises” have deepened mistrust.
“Our demands for statehood and greater autonomy will continue,” he told DW, adding that their demands are very important in order to protect the ethnic population.
“The special demand for autonomy will help us to control our land, local customs, and save our region, which is ecologically fragile, from exploitation and outsiders.”
Protests turn deadly
India’s Ministry of Home Affairs said the September 24 demonstrations were triggered by “provocative” speeches by climate activist Sonam Wangchuck, who had been on hunger strike since September 10.
This led to a call by organizers for a local shutdown with protesters taking to the streets.
Angry about what protesters described as government “indifference,” the demonstrations turned violent.
Mobs set fire to government buildings, including the local office of India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in Leh.
Officials said a police vehicle was also torched and that more than 30 police and personnel were injured. Locals say security forces opened fire, leaving four people dead and dozens injured.
“I’m angry because of how the police handled it,” said Deskit Angmo, a resident of Leh. “People were unarmed. It was an illegal use of force on us.”
Wangchuk is in jail accused of inciting violence under the National Security Act — a charge he strongly denies.
Soon after the violence, a curfew and internet shutdown brought Leh to a standstill, and dozens of people were detained on charges of rioting and arson.
At Leh’s district jail, an elderly man stands at the gate, speaking to the guards. It’s the third time this week that Tsering Dorje has come hoping to see his son, who is among those arrested. He has only been allowed one visit since his detention.
“We are so worried,” he said quietly. “My wife and daughter miss him terribly. He was arrested without doing anything wrong,” Tsering told DW, while waiting to meet his son.
Locals fear growing alienation
Ladakh sits on India’s northern frontier bordering China and Pakistan. Analysts warn that New Delhi’s approach risks alienating the very population that acts as its first line of defense.
“Any sense of alienation should be addressed immediately — trust is the foundation,” said Siddiq Wahid, a historian and political analyst. “Ladakh has shown faith in New Delhi for 75 years. If that trust erodes, it would be worrisome.”
Many locals say that while the region plays a critical role in India’s national security, its people remain politically voiceless, a contradiction that fuels both anger and despair.
In 2020, Indian and Chinese soldiers clashed hand-to-hand in the Galwan Valley, leaving casualties on both sides. The incident marked one of the deadliest confrontations between the two neighbors in over four decades and underscored Ladakh’s strategic vulnerability.
At the Ladakh police headquarters, a meeting was underway between government officials and local representatives.
DW made attempts to speak with the director general responsible for security. He declined to comment, and DW’s request for an interview with the lieutenant governor, New Delhi’s representative in the region, was also turned down.
Tashi Gyalson, the BJP representative in Ladakh and the Chief Executive Councilor of a local autonomous body, acknowledged the public frustration.
“Yes, there was anger,” Gyalson said. “But such violence, such anger, we never anticipated it. Everyone must take some responsibility. Mistakes were made, whether willfully or not,” he told DW.
Back at home, Thinles Dorje sits with his wife and daughter, sharing his experiences at the court. He says he is worried but resolute.
“All our demands are for the future — for my children and the generations after them,” said Dorje, looking at his daughter. “This struggle will continue.”
Edited by: Keith Walker
