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Abstract
This research paper aims to evaluate the progressing legal and socio-political implications of the recently launched ‘Special Scheme for Grant of Arms Licenses to Original Inhabitants and Indigenous Indian Citizens in Vulnerable and Remote Areas of Assam’ with the rationale that possession of firearms would enable “indigenous citizens” to protect themselves from “demographic and security challenges.” The study places the scheme within India’s constitutional framework while considering Assam’s historical backdrop of ethnic insurgency and political identity. It critically analyses whether the scheme redefines security as an extension of cultural rights or perpetuates inequalities in access to arms. The paper employs doctrinal methods of study by examining statutory frameworks such as the Arms Act 1959, its 2019 amendments and their intersection with Sixth Scheule rules. The findings suggest that while the policy aims at identity preservation and protection, it raises constitutional questions on equality, state monopoly on violence, and long-term implications for peace in a conflict-ridden region. The study concludes with suggestions for balancing identity recognition, security concerns, and legal uniformity in arms governance.
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Keywords
Indigenous Rights, Arms Licensing, Assam, Identity Politics, Legal Framework, Security Governance
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Introduction:
The legal regulation of firearms in India is governed by the Arms Act, 1959, which centralizes licensing power under the state while reserving ultimate authority for the Union government. Special security provisions in Assam, including those under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution, provide autonomy to tribal councils but do not directly authorize identity-based access to firearms. Historically, Assam has witnessed both violent insurgencies and ethnic mobilizations. The Bodoland movement, ULFA insurgency, and recurrent ethnic clashes created a persistent demand for state-sanctioned recognition of indigenous security concerns. In this sense, the arms licensing scheme represents a continuation of Assam’s unique negotiation between identity politics and statecraft.
The Assam government’s portal allows indigenous citizens in certain districts to apply for arms licenses with simplified procedures and exemptions. The stated rationale is twofold:
- Identity recognition: Affirming the unique cultural and territorial claims of indigenous communities.
- Security decentralization: Addressing law-enforcement gaps in remote, insurgency-prone regions by arming vetted locals for self-defence and community protection.
Yet, the central definitional issue of who counts as indigenous remains unresolved in legal terms, often depending on political interpretation. This ambiguity renders the scheme vulnerable to challenges on grounds of arbitrariness and discrimination under Article 14 of the Constitution of India.
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Literature Review and Research
Analysing conditions for eligibility under the scheme with respect to Arms Act 1959:
Citizenship: Must be an indigenous citizen from Assam.
Arms licensing is governed nationally by the Arms Act, 1959 and the Arms Rules, 2016 but neither instrument uses “indigenous citizen” as a licensing category. Licensing is by the district authority but the Assam portal says the new portal is only for “indigenous citizens” in notified vulnerable areas (police-station wise). This can be an issue as there is no settled definition: “Indigenous” isn’t defined in central arms law and remains politically/administratively fluid in Assam (variously linked to pre-1971 residency, communities listed in the Assam Accord process, etc.). Legal commentators and rights groups have flagged the definitional vacuum and exclusion risks. That invites Article 14/15 (equal protection/ discrimination) challenges if similarly placed residents are excluded from a central-law licence because of a state label. Additionally, if “indigenous” proof gets tied to legacy documents/NRC-style records, many lawful residents could be screened out despite meeting Arms Act standards. (CHRI and other analyses note documentation gaps and arbitrariness risks in Assam’s identity vetting.)
- Age: Must be at least 21 years old.
The scheme targets “vulnerable” areas (often affected by militancy or banditry), but 18 to 20-year-olds living there cannot be licensed even when they may face the same threats, while they can legally train. That inconsistency can be attacked as under-inclusive, especially if the State’s safety rationale is central. A blanket age 21 bar, without individualized risk assessment could be argued as arbitrary when the same rules envisage responsible, supervised handling by 18- to 20-year-olds.
- Residency: must be a resident in vulnerable and remote areas (in Assam).
Vagueness & discretion: “Vulnerable” is an administrative classification; if criteria and periodic reviews aren’t published, refusals become vulnerable to Wednesbury arbitrariness challenges. Residents just outside a notified thana face unequal access despite similar risk profiles; the scheme’s police-station granularity, which heightens boundary problems.
- Criminal Record: Must not have any criminal background or pending cases.
Section 14, Arms Act 1959 lets authorities refuse a licence for conviction of certain offences within the last 5 years, unsoundness of mind, or “for any reason to be unfit,” etc. It does not say “any pending case = automatic bar.” With high pendency and low conviction rates in many IPC categories, a blanket “no pending case” rule can function as a de facto permanent bar, even for minor/false FIRs, undermining proportionality.
- Medical Fitness: Must be physically and mentally fit. A valid medical fitness certificate must be provided.
The Arms Rules, 2016 require health disclosures, and Form S-3 (Medical Certificate) is part of the application set; MHA has issued clarifications on training/eligibility under the Rules. Additionally, WHO’s Assam health-workforce analysis shows shortages of health personnel per 10,000; India as a whole has ~0.3 psychiatrists per lakh (earlier estimates), far below global needs. In remote districts, getting a timely S-3 certificate (esp. mental-health assessment) can be logistically hard.
Rule 10 requires accredited providers/shooting ranges. Outside a few urban centres (e.g., Guwahati), accredited facilities are sparse, raising cost and travel barriers for remote-area residents whom the scheme targets. (NRAI communications highlight concentration of full-scale ranges in select cities; Assam press items point to limited new facilities like simulators for NCC rather than public S-1 courses.)
The Sixth Schedule of the Indian Constitution
The relevance of this schedule arises due to a major overlap in governance. On one hand, the arms licensing scheme is run under the Arms Act, 1959 (Union law) and Arms Rules, 2016, while on the other hand, in Sixth Schedule areas of Assam (e.g., Karbi Anglong, Dima Hasao, Bodoland Territorial Region until recently), the District Councils enjoy law-making powers in respect of “village or town administration, including village or town police” Also, Paragraph 3(2)of the Sixth Schedule makes all Council laws subject to Governor’s assent, showing that tribal governance is semi-autonomous but not sovereign. So, when this scheme overlays a stricter rule (“no pending cases”) beyond the Arms Act, it can be argued that this centralises discretion and sidelines the local dispute-resolution systems envisaged in the Sixth Schedule. Thus, there are great jurisdiction-based tensions.
Thus, we can recommend the following merits of the Scheme
1. Protection of Vulnerable Indigenous Communities
Many indigenous groups in Assam, particularly in the Bodoland Territorial Region (BTR) and Karbi Anglong, have historically faced violence from insurgent groups and inter-ethnic clashes. Arms licenses could provide self-defence and deterrence in remote areas where state policing is weak. In the 1990s Bodo insurgency, villagers were often targeted by armed insurgent groups. Lack of arms meant entire villages were displaced. A licensing scheme today could help such communities protect themselves against renewed militant violence or ethnic clashes.
2. Cultural Autonomy and Empowerment
Indigenous groups in Assam place a high value on self-governance under the Sixth Schedule. Allowing arms licenses to these groups could be interpreted as recognition of their special socio-political position. In Karbi Anglong Autonomous Council, demands for recognition of tribal autonomy have often included better policing and security powers. By restricting licenses to “indigenous citizens,” the scheme strengthens that sense of localised control.
3. Reduction of Illegal Arms Trade
Assam has long suffered from the circulation of illegal weapons due to insurgency and porous borders with Myanmar and Bangladesh. Formal licensing creates a state-monitored framework that could reduce reliance on black-market arms. In Upper Assam (Tinsukia, Dibrugarh, Sivasagar), illegal weapons smuggled by ULFA and NSCN groups circulated widely. By providing legal channels to indigenous citizens, the State may reduce underground demand.
4. Confidence-Building Measure
For indigenous groups, especially in conflict-prone zones, recognition through arms licensing enhances trust in the state. It signals that the government acknowledges their security vulnerabilities. After the signing of the Bodo Peace Accord (2020), many former militants returned to civilian life. Legal access to arms licenses could reassure Bodo civilians that their security won’t be left solely in the hands of the state, which they historically distrusted.
There are also observable stark demerits:
1. Exclusion of Non-Indigenous Residents
The scheme excludes tea-tribe communities, Bengali Hindus, Muslims, and other non-tribal settlers who also face security risks. This contradicts Article 14 (equality). In the Dhemaji and Tinsukia districts, non-tribal tea-garden workers were frequently targeted in ULFA attacks (e.g., Dhemaji school bombing, 2004). Under this scheme, they would not qualify for licenses despite being highly vulnerable.
2. Risk of Escalating Ethnic Violence
Equipping only certain groups with arms licenses could militarise ethnic fault-lines. If one group is armed legally while others are excluded, it risks new cycles of retaliatory violence. During the 2012 Kokrajhar riots between Bodos and Bengali Muslims, widespread violence and displacement occurred. If arms licenses had been available to only one side, it might have intensified the killings instead of deterring them.
3. Conflict with Sixth Schedule Autonomy
The scheme may interfere with the legislative and policing powers of District Councils under the Sixth Schedule. Councils may view it as a state encroachment. The Karbi Anglong Autonomous Council has previously resisted state intervention in land and policing matters. If arms licenses are issued without Council consultation, it could lead to institutional clashes.
4. Possibility of Misuse
Arms licenses in Assam may be misused not just for defence but for extortion, factional fights, and insurgency-linked activities. In North Cachar Hills (Dima Hasao), licensed arms were reportedly misused by local militant outfits like the Dima Halam Daogah (DHD). A new licensing scheme could unintentionally arm future splinter groups.
5. Ambiguity of “Indigenous Citizen”
The scheme does not clearly define “indigenous.” Assam has dozens of ethnic groups (Bodo, Karbi, Mishing, Rabha, Koch-Rajbongshi, etc.), and also large non-indigenous populations. Exclusion could provoke legal disputes and protests. The Assam NRC exercise (2015–2019) exposed deep divisions over who is considered “indigenous.” If arms licenses depend on the same contested category, it risks mass litigation and unrest.
6. Weak Implementation Capacity
The State often lacks administrative reach in remote areas. Issuing and monitoring arms licenses fairly will be difficult. In remote Arunachal border areas of Assam (e.g., Lakhimpur, Dhemaji), even voter ID distribution faces hurdles. Expecting arms licensing (medical fitness, training certificates, police verification) to function smoothly is unrealistic.
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Suggestions for Reform
To balance identity recognition with constitutional obligations, several reforms are necessary:
1. Broaden Eligibility Beyond “Indigenous” to Include All Vulnerable Residents
The scheme currently limits licenses to “indigenous citizens.” This risks exclusion under Article 14 of the Constitution (equality before law). What can be done is the modification of Section 13 of the Arms Act, 1959, which governs licensing, to include a category for “residents of notified vulnerable areas,” not just “indigenous citizens.” Assam Government can issue a state notification (under Arms Rules, 2016, Rule 20) broadening eligibility to residents of insurgency-hit or border zones. For example, during the 2004 Dhemaji school bombing by ULFA, many victims were from tea-tribe and non-indigenous communities. Under the present scheme, they would remain unprotected, showing why a broader “vulnerability” criterion is fairer.
2. Stricter Vetting & Renewal Mechanism to Prevent Misuse
There is currently a risk of licensed arms being diverted to insurgent outfits or factional militias. Strengthening Rule 24 of the Arms Rules, 2016, which provides for license renewal, by requiring annual police verification in Assam’s “disturbed” districts can help. Also, mandating electronic monitoring of arms through the NDAL (National Database on Arms Licenses) already provided under Rule 58. This can be seen in Dima Hasao (North Cachar Hills), where licensed arms reportedly ended up with the Dima Halam Daogah (DHD) militant group. A more stringent renewal check could have prevented such diversions.
3. Incorporate Sixth Schedule Councils in Licensing Decisions
Licensing powers may conflict with Autonomous District Councils (ADCs) under the Sixth Schedule. To fix the same, we must amend the Assam Arms Licensing Rules (state-specific rules under Arms Act, 1959) to require consultation with ADCs before granting licenses within Sixth Schedule districts (e.g., Karbi Anglong, BTR, Dima Hasao). This could be done via state executive order under Paragraph 12A of the Sixth Schedule, which allows adaptation of state laws within autonomous areas. Example: The Karbi Anglong Autonomous Council (KAAC) has previously opposed unilateral state policing measures. Including them in the arms licensing process would prevent jurisdictional disputes.
- Mandatory Firearms Training & Community Safety Programs
Arms licenses without proper training can escalate violence instead of preventing it. Expansion of Rule 10(1) of the Arms Rules, 2016, which already requires a Form S-1 training certificate, to include compulsory refresher courses every 3 years in Assam’s vulnerable districts would be a viable solution. Awareness can be built by Partnering with Assam Police Training Schools to deliver village-level arms safety programs. We have seen how in Kokrajhar (2012 riots), crude and unregulated firearms use worsened civilian casualties. Structured safety programs would reduce chances of escalation.
5. Clarity in “Indigenous Citizen” Definition
The scheme risks disputes over who qualifies as “indigenous.” Assam has 45+ recognized tribes and sub-tribes. Legal Amendments Needed include inserting a clear definition in Assam-specific rules aligned with the Assam Accord, 1985 (cut-off date: March 24, 1971 for citizenship claims). Alternatively, align with the Scheduled Tribes list under Article 342 of the Constitution to ensure clarity.
6. Balancing Civilian Arming with Policing Reforms
The scheme cannot substitute for state policing in vulnerable areas. There must be active Deployment of Special Police Officers (SPOs) under Section 17 of the Assam Police Act, 2007, in villages receiving licenses. This ensures arms are a last resort, not the primary line of defence. We can also expand Assam’s Village Defence Organisation (VDOs), recognized under state security policy, to coordinate with licensed civilians. Example: In BTAD areas post-2014 violence, Village Defence Parties were crucial in restoring order. Linking the arms licensing scheme with VDOs would create a community-state hybrid security system.
7. Regular Audits & Public Accountability
The Arms proliferation in Assam has historically fuelled insurgency. Without audits, this scheme could repeat past mistakes. The State can introduce a state rule under Section 44 of the Arms Act, 1959, requiring annual public audit reports of licenses issued in Assam. Empowering State Human Rights Commission to receive complaints about misuse of licensed arms may also help. This can aid in avoiding a situation like ULFA (1990s–2000s) which thrived partly because the state lost track of weapons and licenses. Regular audits would plug this gap.
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Conclusion
The Assam Government’s scheme to provide arms licenses to “indigenous citizens” residing in vulnerable and remote areas marks a watershed in the state’s security discourse. It embodies a paradox: on the one hand, it recognizes the chronic insecurity that marginalized populations have historically endured due to insurgency, ethnic violence, and porous borders. On the other, it risks institutionalizing exclusion and potentially aggravating the cycle of armed proliferation. Any attempt to analyze the scheme must therefore situate it within Assam’s broader political history, its legal framework under the Arms Act, 1959 and the Arms Rules, 2016, as well as the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution that governs autonomy in tribal regions.
At a functional level, the scheme’s eligibility conditions such as citizenship, residency in vulnerable areas, age, clean criminal record, medical fitness, and mandatory training under Form S-1, appear designed to balance rights with responsibilities. Yet each requirement also raises concerns. Citizenship and “indigenous” status remain deeply contested in Assam, as evidenced by the NRC process (2015–2019) that left many long-term residents in limbo. Residency-based restrictions may inadvertently exclude migrant or minority communities who have been equally vulnerable to insurgent and communal violence. Medical certification, training, and criminal background checks, while intended to ensure responsible gun ownership, also highlight institutional gaps such as for instance, whether police vetting mechanisms in conflict-prone districts are robust enough, or whether training infrastructure is accessible in remote areas.
From a constitutional perspective, the scheme intersects uneasily with the Sixth Schedule, which grants Autonomous District Councils (ADCs) powers over local governance and customary practices. Paragraph 12A explicitly allows state laws to extend to these regions, but without consultation, the scheme risks undermining local autonomy. Incorporating ADCs into the licensing process would strengthen both legitimacy and compliance, while preventing future jurisdictional disputes.
The socio-political dimensions are equally layered. The stated rationale of “self-defense” resonates in districts scarred by ULFA insurgency, Bodo-Muslim clashes, or targeted killings of tea-tribe workers. However, past experience warns against unchecked civilian militarization. Licensed arms have historically leaked into militant networks, as in the case of the Dima Hasao insurgency. Moreover, arming only “indigenous citizens” risks being perceived as state endorsement of majoritarian identity, undermining the plural social fabric of Assam where minorities, tea tribes, and migrant communities have also been victims of violence.
The scheme’s merits cannot be dismissed outright. It recognizes the state’s inability to guarantee security in every remote hamlet and provides citizens with an instrument of deterrence. It also places formal legal conditions on training, fitness, and police clearance, that distinguish licensed arms from illicit weapons. If implemented with transparency, it could reduce reliance on illegal markets and create a regulated framework of community defense. Yet its demerits like risks of ethnic polarization, arms diversion, definitional ambiguity of “indigenous,” and lack of oversight outweigh its immediate promises unless accompanied by legal and institutional safeguards.
Looking ahead, the scheme must evolve through balanced reforms. These include broadening eligibility to all vulnerable residents, not only “indigenous”; strengthening verification and renewal mechanisms; embedding Autonomous Councils in the decision-making process; mandating refresher training; and introducing annual public audits. Above all, the scheme should be seen not as a substitute for policing but as a complement to broader reforms in community policing and village defense organizations.
In conclusion, Assam’s indigenous arms licensing scheme embodies the tensions of security, identity, and constitutional governance. It reflects a state grappling with insurgent legacies, migration anxieties, and fragile communal relations. The path forward lies not in rejecting the scheme wholesale but in recalibrating it through constitutional principles, statutory amendments, and participatory governance. Only then can the delicate balance between empowerment and regulation be achieved, ensuring that the right to security does not degenerate into the seeds of further conflict.
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Submitted by: Anubha Mathur
College name: Symbiosis Law School Pune