Indigenous Rights

Voters in Tanzania are heading to polling booths on Wednesday to vote for a new president, as well as members of parliament and councillors, in elections which are expected to continue the ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) – or Party of Revolution’s – 64-year-long grip on power.

Despite a bevy of candidates in the lineup, incumbent President Samia Suluhu Hassan, analysts say, is virtually unchallenged and will almost certainly win, following what rights groups say has been a heavy crackdown on popular opposition members, activists and journalists.

Key challengers Tundu Lissu of the largest opposition party, Chadema, and Luhaga Mpina of ACT-Wazalendo, have been barred from standing, thus eliminating any real threat to Hassan. Other presidential candidates on the ballot lack political backing and are unlikely to make much impact on voters, analysts say.

The East African nation is replete with rolling savannas and wildlife, making it a hotspot for safari tourism. It is also home to Africa’s tallest mountain, Mount Kilimanjaro, as well as a host of important landmarks, like the Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti. Precious minerals, such as the unique tanzanite – a blue gemstone – and gold, as well as agricultural exports, contribute significantly to foreign earnings.

Central Dodoma is the country’s capital, while the economic hub is coastal Dar-es-Salaam. Swahili is the lingua franca, while different local groups speak several other languages.

Here’s what to expect at the polls:

What are people voting for and how will the elections be decided?

Voters are choosing a president, parliament members and local councillors for the 29 regions in mainland Tanzania. A president and parliament members will also be elected in the autonomous island of Zanzibar.

Winners are elected by plurality or simple majority vote – the candidate with the most votes wins.

Authorities declared that Wednesday would be a public holiday to allow people to vote, while early voting began in Zanzibar on Tuesday.

How many people are voting?

More than 37 million of the 60 million population are registered to vote. To vote, you must be a citizen aged 18 or over.

Voter turnout in the last general elections in 2020 was just 50.72 percent, however, according to the International Foundation for Electoral Systems.

Who is President Samia Suluhu Hassan and why is she regarded as a shoe-in?

Formerly the country’s vice president, Hassan, 65, automatically ascended to the position of president following the death of former President John Magufuli in March 2021, to serve out the remainder of his term.

Hassan is presently one of only two African female leaders, the other being Namibia’s Netumbo Nandi-Ndaitwah. She is the sixth president and the first female leader of her country. She was previously minister of trade for Zanzibar, where she is from.

This will be Hassan’s first attempt at the ballot, and the election was supposed to be a test of how Tanzanians view her leadership so far. However, analysts say the fact that her two strongest challengers have been barred from the polls means the president is running with virtually no competition.

After taking office in 2021, Hassan immediately began reversing controversial policies implemented by Magafuli, an isolationist leader who denied that COVID-19 existed and refused to issue policies regarding quarantines or vaccines.

Under Hassan, Tanzania joined the international COVAX facility, directed by institutions like the World Health Organization, to help distribute vaccines to developing countries, especially in Africa.

Hassan also struck a reconciliatory tone with opposition leaders by lifting a six-year ban on political rallies imposed by Magufuli.

She focused on completing large-scale Magafuli-era development projects and launched new ones, especially around railway infrastructure and rural electrification. The president’s supporters, therefore, praise her record in infrastructure development, improving access to education and improving overall stability of governance in the country.

However, while many hoped Tanzania would become more democratic under her leadership, Hassan’s style of governance has become increasingly authoritarian, analysts say, and now more closely resembles that of her predecessor.

In a report ahead of the elections, Amnesty International found that Hassan’s government has intensified “repressive practices” and has targeted opposition leaders, civil society activists and groups, journalists and other dissenting voices with forced disappearances, arrests, harassment and even torture.

Tanzania’s government has consistently denied all accusations of human rights violations.

Hassan’s campaign rallies have been highly visible across the country – but hers has been nearly the only major national campaign, with smaller parties sticking to their particular regions.

Some opposition parties are now calling for a boycott of the elections altogether. Speaking to Al Jazeera, Chadema party member John Kitoka, who is currently in hiding to avoid arrest, said the elections are “completely a sham”.

How are opposition parties being dealt with?

Last week, Hassan urged Tanzanians to ignore calls to boycott the vote and warned against protests.

“The only demonstrations that will exist are those of people going to the polling stations to vote. There will be no other demonstrations. There will be no security threat,” she said.

Tanzania’s police have also warned against creating or distributing “inciting” content on social media, threatening that those caught will face prosecution. The country routinely restricts access to social media on specific occasions, such as during protests. Only select traditional media have been approved to provide coverage of the elections.

In the autonomous Zanzibar, which will also elect a president and parliament members, there is more of an atmosphere of competitive elections, observers say. Incumbent leader Hussein Mwinyi of the ruling CCM is facing off against the ACT-Wazalendo candidate Othman Masoud, who has been serving as his vice president in a coalition government.

Why have key opposition candidates been barred from standing?

Tundu Lissu, 57, is the charismatic and widely popular opposition Chadema candidate who lived in exile in Belgium for several years during the Magufuli era. His party, which calls for free elections, reduction of presidential powers, and promotion of human rights, has been barred from the vote for failing to meet a submission deadline, and Lissu is currently in custody for alleged “treasonous” remarks he made ahead of the elections.

The move followed Lissu’s comments during a Chadema rally in the southern town of Mbinga on April 3, during which he urged his supporters to boycott the elections if Hassan’s government did not institute electoral reforms before the vote. Lissu was calling on the government to change the makeup of the Independent National Election Commission, arguing that the agency should not include people appointed directly by Hassan.

Government officials claimed his statements were “inciting” and arrested Lissu on April 9.

Three days later, the electoral commission disqualified Chadema from this election – and all others until 2030 – on the grounds that the party had failed to sign a mandatory Electoral Code of Conduct due on April 12.

Local media reported that two Chadema party members attending a rally in support of Lissu on April 24 were also arrested by the Tanzanian police.

Last week, Chadema deputy chairperson John Heche, deputy chairperson of Chadema, was detained while attempting to attend Lissu’s trial at the Dar-es-Salaam High Court. He has not been seen since.

Lissu has been detained often. He survived an assassination attempt in 2017 after he was shot 16 times.

In August, the elections commission also barred opposition candidate Luhaga Mpina, 50, of the ACT-Wazalendo, the second-largest opposition party. Mpina, a parliament member who broke away from the ruling CCM in August to join ACT-Wazalendo – also known as the Alliance for Change and Transparency – was barred for allegedly failing to follow the rules for nominations during the presidential primaries.

Hassan will compete with 16 other candidates –  none of whom are from major national parties or have an established political presence.

What are the key issues for this election?

Shrinking democratic freedoms

Observers say Tanzania’s democracy, already fragile during the presidency of Magafuli, is at risk as a result of the Hassan government’s tightening of political freedoms and crackdowns on the media.

Amnesty International notes that electoral rights violations were apparent in 2020 under Magufuli, but have worsened ahead of this week’s polls.

Human Rights Watch and the United Nations human rights agency (UNHCR) have similarly documented reports of rights violations under Hassan’s government, noting in particular the disappearance of two regional activists, Boniface Mwangi from Kenya and Agather Atuhaire from Uganda, who travelled to witness Lissu’s trial but were detained in Dar-es-Salaam on May 19, 2025.

Mwangi was reportedly tortured and dumped in a coastal Kenyan town, while Atuhaire reported being sexually assaulted before also being abandoned at the border with Uganda.

“More than 200 cases of enforced disappearance have been recorded in Tanzania since 2019,” the UNHCR noted.

Business and economy

Tanzania’s economic growth has been stable with inflation staying below the Central Bank’s 5 percent target in recent years, according to the World Bank.

Unlike its neighbour, Kenya, the lower-middle-income country has avoided debt distress, with GDP boosted by high demand for its gold, tourism and agricultural commodities like cashew nuts, coffee and cotton. However, the World Bank noted that 49 percent of the population lives below the international poverty line.

While growth has attracted foreign investment, government policies have negatively impacted the business landscape: In July, Hassan’s government introduced new restrictions banning foreigners from owning and operating businesses in 15 sectors, including mobile money transfers, tour guiding, small-scale mining and on-farm crop buying.

Officials argued that too many foreigners were engaging in informal businesses that ought to benefit Tanzanians. The move played to recent protests against the rising influx of Chinese products and businesses in Tanzanian markets, analysts say. Foreigners are also banned from owning beauty salons, souvenir shops and radio and TV stations.

The move proved controversial in the regional East African Community bloc, particularly in neighbouring Kenya, whose citizens make up a significant population of business owners in the country, having taken advantage of the free-movement policy within the bloc.

Conservation challenges

While abundant wildlife and natural resources have boosted the economy via tourism, Tanzania faces major challenges in managing human-wildlife conflict.

Clashes between humans, particularly in rural areas, and wild animals are becoming more common due to population growth and climate change, which is pushing animals closer to human settlements in search of food and water.

Human-elephant flare-ups are most common. Between 2012 and 2019, more than 1,000 human-wildlife mortality cases were reported nationwide, according to data from Queen’s University, Canada.

While the government provides financial and material compensation to the families of those affected by human-wildlife conflict incidents, families often complain of receiving funds late.

Meanwhile, there is tension between the government and indigenous groups such as the Maasai, who are resisting being evicted to make more room for conservation space to be used for tourism.

Last year, crackdowns on Maasai protesters and resulting outrage from groups led to the World Bank suspending a $150m conservation grant, and the European Union cancelling Tanzania’s eligibility for a separate $20m grant.

“We have to die so people can keep working.” Canada’s Grassy Narrows First Nation is taking on the government over a local employer’s poisoning of their water.

Returning home

About 70 percent of the Nukak population remains displaced from their ancestral lands, according to the FCDS.

Most families have been pushed into sedentary lifestyles, settling in makeshift camps on the edge of towns, where addiction and child sexual exploitation became widespread.

Others have settled on small plots in rural areas, where tensions with settlers flared over land disputes.

“The settlers took over the land as if it were vacant. They say there were no Nukak, but what happened was that the Nukak got sick and left,” said Njibe.

In the most remote reaches of the Amazon, where the Nukak reservation is located, the Colombian government has little presence.

The Nukak, therefore, have few legal protections from settler violence when they try to reclaim their lands.

But in recent years, Nukak members like Njibe, tired of waiting for government action, resolved to return on their own.

The idea gained traction in 2020, when several clans retreated into the jungle for fear of the COVID-19 pandemic.

But after returning to their relative isolation, the clans considered staying for good. They called on nongovernmental organisations like FCDS for support.

At that time, Njibe was living on a small farm inside the limits of the Nukak Maku reservation.

Even within the reservation, decades of colonisation had razed large swaths of the forest. Grassy pastures dotted with cows had replaced the Amazon’s towering palm trees.

Deforestation had increased in the wake of a 2016 peace deal between the government and the FARC. The rebel group previously limited deforestation in the Amazon in order to use its dense canopies as cover against air surveillance.

But, as part of the deal, FARC — the largest armed rebel group at the time — agreed to demobilise. A power vacuum emerged in its place.

According to FCDS, powerful landowners quickly moved into areas formerly controlled by the FARC, converting the land into cattle pastures.

Armed dissident groups who rejected the peace deal also remained active in the area, charging extortion fees per cow.

“The colonisation process has caused many [Nukak] sites to be either destroyed or absorbed by settler farms,” said a FCDS expert who asked not to be named for fear of retaliation.

Still, in 2022, the FCDS forged ahead with a pilot programme to support seven Nukak communities as they settled deeper into the reservation, where the lush forest still remained. There, the Nukak hoped they could revive a more traditional, if not completely nomadic, way of life.

But many of the expeditions to identify permanent relocation sites failed.

Initially, Njibe hoped to move to a sacred lake inside the reservation that he recalled from his childhood, but once he arrived at the site, he found that it was now part of a ranch.

When he asked the settler who ran the ranch for permission to stay there, the rancher rejected his request, and Njibe was forced to choose another place to live.

He considered returning to a forested area — about 24 hectares (59 acres) wide, roughly the size of 33 football fields — that he considered his childhood home.

But that too lay within a ranch. This time, however, the settler in question, who Njibe said was more sympathetic to his land claims, allowed him to stay.

Ladakh, a high-altitude cold desert region in the Himalayas that has been at the heart of recent India-China tensions, was rocked on Wednesday by violent Gen Z-led protests as youth torched the regional office of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP).

As protesters, including school students, clashed with the police in Leh, the regional capital, at least four of them were killed and dozens were injured, protest coordinators told Al Jazeera, following additional deployment of the armed forces. Authorities said dozens of security forces were also injured in the clashes.

For the past six years, thousands of people in Ladakh, led by local civic bodies, have taken out peaceful marches and gone on hunger strikes demanding greater constitutional safeguards and statehood from India, which has governed the region federally since 2019. They want the power to elect a local government.

On Wednesday, however, groups of disillusioned youth broke with those peaceful protests, said Sonam Wangchuk, an educator who has been spearheading a series of hunger strikes.

“It was an outburst of youth, a kind of Gen-Z revolution, that brought them on streets,” Wangchuk said in a video statement, referring to recent uprisings in South Asian countries, including in Nepal earlier this month, that led to the overthrow of the government of Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli.

So, what’s happening in Ladakh? What are their demands? How did the Himalayan region get to this point? And why does the crisis in Ladakh matter so much?

What triggered clashes in Ladakh?

On Wednesday morning, a hunger strike by local Ladakhi activists, led by the Ladakh Apex Body, an amalgam of socio-religious and political organisations, entered its 15th day.

Two activists, aged 62 and 71, had been hospitalised the previous evening after two weeks of hunger strike, leading to a call by organisers for a local shutdown. The protesters were also angry with the Modi government for delaying talks with them.

These issues led the youth to believe that “peace is not working”, Wangchuk said on Wednesday evening in a virtual press meeting, during which he appeared frail.

Then the youth-led groups broke away from the protest site in Leh at the Martyrs’ Memorial Park and moved towards local official buildings and a BJP office, raising slogans, leading to clashes with the police. Four were killed and another remains critical, while dozens were injured.

“This is the bloodiest day in the history of Ladakh. They martyred our young people – the general public who were on the streets to support the demands of the strike,” said Jigmat Paljor, the coordinator of the apex body behind the hunger strikes.

“The people were tired of fake promises for five years by the government, and people were filled with anger,” Paljor told Al Jazeera. Amid the violence, he said, his organisation withdrew the hunger strike, calling for peace.

In a statement, India’s home ministry said that clashes “unruly mob” had left over 30 forces personnel injured — and that “police had to resort to firing” in self defence, leading to “some casualties”.

The government said that “it was clear that the mob was incited by [Wangchuk]”, adding that the educator was “misleading the people through his provocative mention of Arab Spring-style protest and references to Gen Z protests in Nepal.” Wangchuk has been warning that youth sentiments could turn to violence if the government does not pay heed to the demands of peaceful protesters — but insists he has never advocated violence himself.

What do protesters want?

In 2019, the Modi government unilaterally stripped the semi-autonomous status and statehood that Indian-administered Kashmir had previously enjoyed under the Indian constitution.

The state had three regions – the Muslim-majority Kashmir valley, the Hindu-majority Jammu, and Ladakh, where Muslims and Buddhists each form about 40 percent of the population.

Then, the Modi government bifurcated the erstwhile state into two territories: Jammu and Kashmir with a legislature, and Ladakh without one. While both are federally governed and neither has the powers of other states in India, Jammu and Kashmir’s legislature at least allows its population to elect local leaders who can represent their concerns and voice them to New Delhi. Ladakh, locals argue, doesn’t even have that.

Kashmir is a disputed region between India, Pakistan and China – the three nuclear-armed neighbours each control a part. India claims all of it, and Pakistan claims all except the part held by China, its ally. Indian-administered Kashmir borders Pakistan on the west, and Ladakh shares a 1,600km (994-mile) border with China on the east.

Since the end of statehood, Ladakhis have found themselves under the rule of bureaucrats. More than 90 percent of the region’s population is listed as Scheduled Tribes. That status has prompted a demand for Ladakh to be included under the Sixth Schedule of the Indian Constitution, which provides autonomous administrative and governance structures to regions where recognised Indigenous communities dominate the population. There are currently 10 regions in India’s northeastern states that are listed under the schedule.

However, the Modi government has so far resisted both statehood and the protections of the Sixth Schedule for Ladakh.

The separation of Jammu and Kashmir from Ladakh has meant that it is harder for Ladakhis to find work in Jammu and Kashmir, where most jobs in the previously unified region were. Since 2019, locals have also accused the Indian government of not putting in place clear policies for hirings to public sector jobs.

“[The young protesters] are unemployed for five years, and Ladakh is not being granted [constitutional] protections,” Wangchuk said on Wednesday. “This is the recipe of social unrest in society: keep youth unemployed and then snatch their democratic rights.”

Ladakh has a 97 percent literacy rate, well above India’s national average of about 80 percent. But a 2023 survey found that 26.5 percent of Ladakh’s graduates are unemployed – double the national average.

On Wednesday, the anger tipped over.

“What’s happening in Ladakh is horrific,” said Siddiq Wahid, an academic and political analyst from Leh. “It is scary to see Ladakh sort of pushed to this edge.”

“In the last six years, Ladakhis have realised the dangers that their identity faces,” he said, adding that the people have been “adamant about the need to retrieve their rights since they were snatched away six years ago”.

“The youth anger is a particularly worrisome angle because they’re impatient. They’ve been waiting for a resolution for years,” said Wahid. “Now, they are frustrated because they don’t see a future for themselves.”

Have there been protests earlier in Ladakh?

Yes. Since the abrogation of the region’s semi-autonomous status and the removal of statehood, several local civic groups have staged protest marches and at times gone on hunger strikes.

Wangchuk, the educator, has led five hunger strikes in the last three years, demanding constitutional protections for Ladakh. He is also the most well-known face of the protests in Ladakh – having a wider reach due to his past sustainability innovations. Wangchuk’s life has also inspired a Bollywood blockbuster movie that has also gained legions of fans in China.

The site of the hunger strike, the Martyrs’ Memorial Park, is also dedicated to three Ladakhis who were killed in August 1989 in a firing incident during protests. At the time, the protests were over anger about perceived Kashmiri dominance in the unified state that Ladakh, Jammu and Kashmir belonged to.

The site also honours two other protesters who were killed in January 1981 during an agitation demanding Scheduled Tribe status for Ladakhis.

But Wednesday’s protest marked the deadliest day in Ladakh’s political history.

Sajad Kargili, a civil member of a committee constituted by the Modi government to speak with the protesting activists, said that the violence in Ladakh “highlights the frustration of our youth”.

“The government needs to understand that there are young people here who are angry and not opting to sit on a hunger strike,” Kargili said. “The Modi government should not turn its back on these calls.”

Why Ladakh is so significant

Ladakh sits at India’s Himalayan frontier, bordering China.

The region also connects to vital mountain passes, airfields, and supply routes that are critical for India’s military in the event of a conflict with China. In 2020, the Indian and Chinese forces clashed in eastern Ladakh along the Line of Actual Control (LAC), following a Chinese incursion.

At least 20 Indian forces personnel were killed alongside four Chinese. The confrontation triggered the mobilisation of tens of thousands of troops on both sides, with heavy weaponry and infrastructure being rushed to high-altitude posts.

Since then, Ladakh has remained the nerve centre of India-China border tensions. Multiple rounds of military and diplomatic talks have led to a thaw since late last year.

Now, Wahid, the political analyst, said that the Modi government’s actions in 2019 are returning to haunt India with a new threat in Ladakh – an internal one. Indian authorities, he pointed out, have long had to deal with Kashmir as a “centre of discontent”. Now, they have Ladakh to contend with, too.

Melbourne, Australia – A far-right “anti-immigration” march escalated into a violent attack on a sacred Indigenous site in Melbourne last weekend, raising serious questions about police conduct and institutional responses to neo-Nazi groups in Australia.

The march on Sunday, which saw members of the self-described neo-Nazi National Socialist Network (NSN) lead chants of “Australia for the white man”, culminated in a group of 50 men storming Camp Sovereignty – the site of a historic Aboriginal burial ground in the city.

The attack left four people injured, with two hospitalised for severe head wounds.

The “March for Australia” protest against mass immigration came just one week after more than 350,000 people marched across Australia in solidarity with Palestinians amid Israel’s war on Gaza.

Far-right and neo-Nazi connections were evident in the organisation of the march.

According to the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC), prominent far-right figure Hugo Lennon, an associate of the neo-Nazi NSN, was listed as an original organiser before being quietly removed from the event’s Facebook page days prior.

In a statement released a day before the march, Thomas Sewell, leader of the NSN, declared, “March for Australia is about stopping immigration. No illegal actions or gestures will be performed by our members on the day.”

For some, the ensuing violence at Camp Sovereignty made clear the event’s underlying intentions.

“The rally was never about immigration but an excuse to parade white supremacist ideas in Australia,” said Ilo Diaz from the Centre Against Racial Profiling.

‘We knew they were coming back’: The assault on Camp Sovereignty

The Camp Sovereignty protest site occupies the “Kings Domain” parkland area in central Melbourne.

The camp is considered a sovereign embassy of Australia’s First Nation people and a sacred space dedicated to honouring Indigenous ancestors and healing generational trauma within the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community, particularly the Boonwurrung and Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation.

Established in 2006 by elders Robbie and Marg Thorpe, Camp Sovereignty marks the site of an Indigenous ceremonial place and burial ground, and has come to symbolise ongoing Indigenous resistance in Australia, advocating for an end to genocide and recognition of Indigenous sovereignty and land rights.

Nathalie Farah, who said she was kicked in the stomach during the attack on the camp, said the threat from the far right was evident hours before the violence took place.

“Earlier that morning, Tom [Sewell] and a couple of his mates walked through Camp Sovereignty,” Farah told Al Jazeera.

“They wanted to walk through the sacred fire. We knew that they were going to come back. The police knew they were coming back,” Farah said.

At approximately 5pm local time, a large group, led by Sewell, armed with poles and pipes, charged the camp.

Video footage shared on social media showed the attackers, most dressed entirely in black, charging towards the camp and assaulting anyone in their path as they tore down First Nation flags and inflicted damage to the site.

The Black Peoples Union, an Indigenous political organisation, said the attackers chanted “white power” and racial slurs while stamping on the camp’s sacred fire – which is kept burning to honour the Indigenous ancestors buried at the site – and trampling on the Aboriginal flag.

Video clips of the attack showed the men and younger youths specifically targeting women at the camp.

“I had what looked like a 15-year-old boy rip my hair, throw me to the ground and smash into my face with his fists. He did it with a smile on his face,” a 30-year-old teacher said in a witness statement to the Black Peoples Union.

Naarm Frontline Medics, a volunteer medical group, alleged police arrived at the camp only after the attackers fled, and claimed officers “came with pepper spray drawn on the victims of the assault, not the attackers”.

The medics also accused officers of having “actively obstructed the victims ‘ access to emergency medical care”.

Victoria Police confirmed they made no arrests at the site.

A ‘globally networked’ threat

Researchers note the attack on Camp Sovereignty was not an isolated incident but part of a growing, internationally connected, far-right threat.

The White Rose Society, which monitors far-right extremism, told Al Jazeera the neo-Nazi NSN group is “heavily networked with the international far right” through groups such as Terrorgram and 764/COM, with leaders “playing a prominent role in the international active club network”.

“Australian fascists and neo-Nazis have extensive reach on social media to an international audience, contributing to neo-Nazi news sites that promote anti-Semitic content,” the group said.

The NSN did not respond to Al Jazeera’s requests for comment.

The group’s Telegram channel displays multiple videos showing members training in combat techniques and chanting “white men fight back”, content that is also promoted across their TikTok accounts and official website.

The camp attack has highlighted concerns among some regarding the selective condemnation of far-right violence from official institutions in Australia.

Australia’s special envoy to combat anti-Semitism, Jillian Segal, who was appointed to lead efforts against anti-Semitic actions in Australia, has yet to issue a statement addressing the neo-Nazi violence.

Segal also declined to address the role of neo-Nazis in the “March for Australia” protest, telling reporters at a conference: “I don’t want to comment on any particular incidents as I think this goes beyond any particular incident.”

In July, Segal said she had no involvement in a major donation by a company co-directed by her husband to Advance Australia – a conservative lobby group that rails against immigration, pro-Palestinian protests, and the Labor government of Prime Minister Anthony Albanese.

Aboriginal Senator Lidia Thorpe, a Djab Wurrung, Gunnai and Gunditjmara woman, condemned what she called institutional hypocrisy in dealing with the far-right in Australia.

“Why are the authorities allowing this to happen? Why is the prime minister allowing this to happen?” Senator Thorpe said.

Thorpe has demanded a full investigation into the attack on Camp Sovereignty and has directly linked the slow police response to systemic racism in Australian society.

“We see how the Victorian Police treat Aboriginal people every day on the streets. There needs to be a full investigation on the infiltration of the neo-Nazi movement into not only the Victorian police force, but every so-called police force in this country,” Thorpe said.

“I’m sure there’s a lot more members of the NSN that wear badges amongst the police force,” she added.

The March for Australia rally proceeded with a significant police presence last weekend. Videos and witness accounts show police officers walking alongside the demonstrators.

When counter-protesters attempted to block NSN members from joining the main rally, video footage shared by the NSN and anti-fascist organisers showed police using pepper spray, but only on counter-protesters.

Political commentator Tom Tanuki said this selectivity fitted a pattern of police conduct that “invariably” sides with the far right.

“I wasn’t surprised to see them, as depicted in my video, defending NSN’s entry into the rally and pepper-spraying people out of the way,” Tanuki said.

A statement released before the march by Victoria Police declared, “Anyone thinking of coming into the city to cause trouble, display hateful behaviour, breach the peace or confront others will be met with a strong police response.”

A measure of accountability

More than 48 hours after the attack on Camp Sovereignty, NSN leader Sewell was arrested and charged. On Friday, he was denied bail by a court in Melbourne. Five other NSN members were arrested and released on bail.

Despite the arrests, authorities have not classified the attack on Camp Sovereignty as a racially motivated hate crime, which has prompted condemnation from Aboriginal leaders.

Speaking to Al Jazeera, Senator Thorpe stated unequivocally: “Camp Sovereignty is our place of worship. For the authorities, even the federal parliament and the prime minister, not to see this as a hate crime, to refuse to name it and treat it as one, shows we have a serious problem in this country.

“It’s racism in itself not to call it what it is,” Thorpe said.

Thorpe connected the violence to Australia’s colonial legacy.

“The war has not ended for our people,” she added.

“We have over 600 Aboriginal deaths in custody with no one held accountable. 24,000 of our children have been taken from their mothers’ arms. They’re locking up our babies from age 10; 93 percent of the child prison population are our children. The genocide continues.”

Despite the attack, Camp Sovereignty remains, and a nationwide day of action has been called by Aboriginal resistance organisation The Blak Caucus on September 13, to show solidarity with the camp.

Melbourne, Australia – Lee Little recalls the phone call with her daughter in December 2017; it was just minutes before Alicia was killed.

“I spoke to her 15 minutes before she died,” Little told Al Jazeera.

“I asked her, was she OK? Did you want us to come up to pick you up? And she said, ‘No, I’ve got my car. I’m right, Mum, everything’s packed.’”

Alicia Little was on the verge of finally leaving an abusive four-and-a-half-year relationship.

Not only had Alicia rung her mother, but she had also called the police emergency hotline for assistance, as her fiance Charles Evans fell into a drunken rage.

Alicia knew what to expect from her partner: extreme violence.

Evans had a history of abuse towards Alicia, with her mother recounting to Al Jazeera the first time it occurred.

“The first time he actually bashed her, she was on the phone to me. And the next minute, I heard him come across and try to grab her phone,” Little said.

“I heard her say, ‘Get your hands off my throat. I can’t breathe.’ And the next minute, you hear him say, ‘You’re better off dead.’”

Little told how she had taken photos of her daughter’s terrible injuries.

“She had broken ribs. She had a broken cheekbone, broken jaw, black eyes, and where he’d had her around the throat, you could see his finger marks. It was a bruise, and where he’d give her a kick, and right down the side, you could see his foot marks.”

Like many abusive relationships, a pattern would emerge, whereby Alicia would leave temporarily, only to return after Evans promised to change his behaviour.

“This went on and off for the four and a half years,” Little said.

“He’d bash her, she’d come home, and then she’d say to me, ‘Mum, he’s told me that he’s gone and got help.’”

Yet the violence only escalated.

On the night Alicia decided to leave for good, Evans drove his four-wheel-drive at her, pinning her between the front of the vehicle and a water tank.

Alicia Little, aged 41 and a mother of two boys, died within minutes before the police she had called could arrive.

As she lay drawing her final breaths, security camera footage would later show her killer drinking beer at the local pub, where he drove to after running Alicia down.

Evans was arrested, and after initially being charged with murder, had his charges downgraded to dangerous driving causing death and failing to render assistance after a motor vehicle accident.

He would walk free from jail after only two years and eight months.

The statistics

Alicia Little is just one of the many women in Australia killed every year, in what activists such as The Red Heart Campaign’s Sherele Moody are saying is so prevalent that it amounts to a “femicide”: the targeted killing of women by men.

According to government data, one woman was killed in Australia every eight days on average between 2023-2024.

Moody, who documents the killings, contests those statistics, telling Al Jazeera they do not represent the true scale of deadly attacks on women in the country.

Government data records “domestic homicide”; women killed resulting in a conviction of murder or manslaughter.

As in the case of Alicia Little, the lesser charges her killer was convicted on related to motoring offences and do not amount to a domestic homicide under government reporting and are not reflected in the statistics.

“One of the key weapons that perpetrators use against women in Australia is vehicles,” Moody told Al Jazeera.

“They almost always get charged with dangerous driving, causing death. That is not a homicide charge. It doesn’t get counted despite it being a domestic violence act, an act of domestic violence perpetrated by a partner,” Moody said.

“The government underrepresents the epidemic of violence. And in the end, the numbers that they’re using influence their policy. It influences their funding decisions. It influences how they speak to us as a community about violence against women,” she said.

Moody said that between January 2024 and June this year, she had documented 136 killings of women; many – like Alicia Little – by their partners. “Ninety-six percent of the deaths I record are perpetrated by men.”

“Around 60 percent of the deaths are the result of domestic and family violence,” she said.

While much focus is on women’s safety in public spaces – for example, walking home alone at night – Moody said the least safe place for a woman is actually in her own home.

“The reality is that if you’re going to be killed, whether you’re a man or woman or a child, you’re going to be killed by someone you know,” she said.

Data shows that only about 10 percent of female victims are killed by strangers, deaths often sensationally covered by the media and prompting public debate about women’s safety.

“Yes, stranger killings do happen, and when they do, they get a lot of focus and a lot of attention, and it lulls people into a false sense of security about who is perpetrating the violence,” Moody said.

Male violence in Australia

Patty Kinnersly, CEO of Our Watch, a national task force to prevent violence against women, said attacks on women are the “most extreme outcome of broader patterns of gendered violence and inequality”.

“When we refer to the gendered drivers of violence, we are talking about the social conditions and power imbalances that create the environment where this violence occurs,” Kinnersly said.

“These include condoning or excusing violence against women, men’s control of decision-making, rigid gender stereotypes and dominant forms of masculinity, and male peer relations that promote aggression and disrespect towards women,” she said.

“Addressing the gendered drivers is vital because violence against women is not random; it reflects deeply entrenched inequalities and norms in society. If we do not address these root causes, we cannot achieve long-term prevention,” she added.

Patterns of male violence are deeply rooted in Australia’s colonial history, in which men are told they need to be physically and mentally tough, normalising male aggression, write authors Alana Piper and Ana Stevenson.

“For much of the 19th century, men far outnumbered women within the European population of the Australian colonies. This produced a culture that prized hyper-masculinity as a national ideal,” they write.

Colonial male aggression also resulted in extreme violence perpetrated on Indigenous women during the frontier times, through rape and massacres.

Misogyny and racism were also promoted in Australia’s parliament during the 20th century, as legislators crafted assimilationist laws aimed at controlling the lives of Indigenous women and removing their children as part of what has become known as the “Stolen Generations”.

Up to a third of Indigenous children were removed from their families as part of a suite of government policies between 1910 and 1970, resulting in widespread cultural genocide and intergenerational social, economic and health disparities.

This legacy of colonial racism and discrimination continues to play out in vast socioeconomic inequalities experienced by Indigenous people in the present day, including violence against women, activists say.

Recent government data shows that Indigenous women are 34 times more likely to be hospitalised due to violence than non-Indigenous women in Australia and six times more likely to die as a result of family violence.

“Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women are among the most at-risk groups for family violence and intimate partner homicide in Australia,” First Nations Advocates Against Family Violence (FNAAFV) Chief Executive Officer Kerry Staines told Al Jazeera.

“These disproportionately high rates are the result of historical injustice and ongoing systemic failure,” Staines said, including forced displacement of Indigenous communities, child removals and the breakdown of family structures.

“Many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities have been affected by multigenerational trauma caused by institutional abuse, incarceration and marginalisation. When trauma is left unaddressed, and support services are inadequate or culturally unsafe, the risk of violence, including within relationships, increases,” she said.

Indigenous women are also the fastest-growing prison cohort in Australia.

On any given night, four out of 10 women in prison are Indigenous women, despite making up only 2.5 per cent of the adult female population.

Staines said there is a nexus between domestic violence and incarceration.

“There is a clear and well-documented relationship between the hyper-incarceration of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples and the high rates of family violence experienced in our communities,” she said.

“The removal of parents and caregivers from families due to imprisonment increases the likelihood of child protection involvement, housing instability and intergenerational trauma, all of which are risk factors for both perpetration and victimisation of family violence.”

‘Toxic culture’

While Australia was one of the first Western countries to grant women voting rights, deeply rooted inequalities persisted through much of the 20th century, with women being excluded from much of public and civic life, including employment in the government sector and the ability to sit on juries, until the 1970s.

This exclusion from positions of authority – including the judicial system – allowed a culture of “victim blaming” to develop, particularly in instances of domestic abuse and sexual assault, activists say.

Rather than holding male perpetrators to account and addressing violence, focus remained on the actions of female victims: what they may have been wearing, where they had been, and prior sexual histories as a basis for apportioning blame to those who had suffered the consequences of gender-based violence.

Such was the case with Isla Bell, a 19-year-old woman from Melbourne, who police allege was beaten to death in October 2024.

Media reporting on Isla’s death focused largely on her personal life and provided graphic details about her death, while little attention was given to the two men who were charged with Isla’s alleged murder.

Isla’s mother, Justine Spokes, said the reporting “felt really abusive”.

“The way in which my daughter’s murder was reported on just highlights the pervasive toxic culture that is systemic in Australia,” said Spokes, describing a “victim-blaming narrative” around the killing of her daughter.

“It was written in a really biased way that felt really disrespectful, devaluing and dehumanising,” she said, adding that society had become desensitised to male violence against women in Australia.

“It’s just become so normalised, which I think is actually a sign of trauma, that we’re numb to it. It’s been pervasive for that long. If that’s the mainstream psyche in Australia, it’s just so dangerous,” she said.

“I really think that this pervasive, toxic, misogynistic culture, it’s definitely written into our law. It’s very colonial,” she added.

The Australian government, led by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, has committed to the ambitious task of tackling violence against women within a generation.

A spokesperson from the Department of Social Services told Al Jazeera the government has invested 4 billion Australian dollars ($2.59bn) to deliver on the National Plan to End Violence Against Women and Children 2022-2032.

“The Australian Government acknowledges the significant levels of violence against women and children including intimate partner homicides,” the spokesperson said in a statement.

“Ending gender-based violence remains a national priority for the Australian Government. Our efforts to end gender based violence in one generation are not set-and-forget – we are rigorously tracking, measuring and assessing our efforts, and making change where we must,” the spokesperson added.

Yet for Lee Little, mother of Alicia Little who was killed in 2017, not enough is being done, and she does not feel justice was served in the case of her daughter, describing the killer’s light sentence as “gut-wrenching”.

Little is now petitioning for a national domestic violence database in a bid to hold perpetrators accountable and allow women to gain access to information regarding prior convictions.

“Our family would love a national database, because perpetrators, at this moment, anywhere in Australia, can do a crime in one state and move to another, and they’re not recognised” as offenders in their new location, she said.

Little said public transparency around prior convictions would protect women from entering into potentially abusive relationships in the first place.

Yet the Australian federal government has yet to implement such a database, in part due to the complexities of state jurisdictions.

The federal attorney-general’s office told Al Jazeera that “primary responsibility for family violence and criminal matters rests with the states and territories, with each managing their own law enforcement and justice systems”.

“Creation of a publicly accessible national register of perpetrators of family violence could only be implemented with the support of state and territory governments, who manage the requisite data and legislation.”

Despite the apparent intransigence in law, Little remains committed to calling out violence against women wherever she sees it.

“I’ve been to supermarkets where there’s been abuse in front of me, and I’ve stepped in,” she said.

“I will be a voice for Alicia and for a national database till my last breath,” she added.

Sikkim, India – It was the middle of the night when Tashi Choden Lepcha was jolted awake by the tremors that shook her mountainside home in Naga village. Perched above the Teesta River, which flows through a gorge just below, Naga is a remote village in India’s northeastern Himalayan state of Sikkim. For centuries, it has been home to the Indigenous Lepcha people.

“It felt like an earthquake,” the 51-year-old mother of five says of the events of October 4, 2023. “The whole house was shaking. It was raining heavily, there was no electricity, and we couldn’t see anything.”

In the pitch dark and amid the heavy downpour that night, Lepcha roused her three children, aged 13, 10 and five, and rushed out of the house with her husband, panicking. Together with a few neighbours, they searched for a safe space on higher ground. That’s when they noticed a distinct smell of mud and something like gunpowder.

Moments later, an enormous, tsunami-like wave surged down with terrifying force. Lepcha didn’t know it at the time, but it was a glacial lake outburst flood (GLOF), which had been triggered by the sudden avalanche of ice and rock into the South Lhonak Lake – a glacial lake high up in the Teesta basin in North Sikkim.

The impact breached the lake’s moraine wall, releasing more than 50 million cubic metres of water. The flood destroyed the 1,200-megawatt Teesta III dam – Sikkim’s largest hydropower plant, located at Chungthang on the River Teesta, the largest river in Sikkim, which originates in the eastern Himalayas. The dam’s collapse released an additional five million cubic metres (equivalent to 2,000 Olympic swimming pools) of reservoir water.

The high-velocity flood in the Teesta River valley carried about 270 million cubic metres of sediment and debris along with it, causing widespread devastation across Sikkim, parts of West Bengal and Bangladesh through which the Teesta flows.

At least 55 people were killed, 74 went missing, and more than 7,025 were displaced. The flood damaged nearly 26,000 buildings, destroyed 31 bridges and flooded more than 270 square kilometres of farmland. It also triggered 45 landslides, damaged four dams and destroyed long stretches of National Highway 10.

Both Teesta III and Teesta V, another hydroelectric dam near Dikchu in Balutar, have remained shut since they were severely damaged during the flood. Repair work is continuing, but neither of the dams has generated electricity for almost two years.

Scientists say the scale of the destruction makes it one of the most devastating flooding disasters recorded in the Himalayas in recent decades.

Rebuilding amid ruin

Today, Naga village, located about 73 kilometres from Sikkim’s capital, Gangtok, is deserted due to continuous land subsidence. Houses are cracked, have collapsed or are still standing but leaning towards the river flowing below. The main NH10 road passing through the village has been destroyed with long, deep cracks.

In all, about 150 families lost their homes and land in the flood and now face an uncertain future. Lepcha’s family lost both their houses, which collapsed in the landslides. They, along with 19 other families, are now living temporarily in a government tourist lodge in Singhik, about 10km from their home.

As the region struggles to recover, and communities along the Teesta remain displaced and vulnerable, the Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEF&CC) has approved plans to rebuild the Teesta III dam without any public consultation, despite concerns about the risk of future glacial lake outburst floods and the fact that the Himalayan range running across Sikkim is seismically sensitive.

With the ongoing monsoon season, the Teesta’s water levels have risen significantly. This has already caused several landslides in North Sikkim, washing away the under-construction Sankalang bridge and cutting off large parts of the region.

Long stretches of roads across North Sikkim are still unpaved, muddy and full of rubble. Several bridges damaged during the 2023 flood and the monsoon next year are yet to be rebuilt.

The quality control lab at the Chungthang dam site has also been swept away, halting construction work. “It looks like a war-torn area. How will they rebuild Teesta III?” asks Gyatso Lepcha, a climate activist with Affected Citizens of Teesta (ACT), a group of Lepchas campaigning against large hydropower projects and environmental conservation in the region.

“A detailed risk assessment considering future climate scenarios, glacial behaviour, hydrological changes, and sedimentation rates is essential before deciding to rebuild the dam in the same location,” says Farooq Azam, senior cryosphere specialist at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD).

In the absence of such an assessment, the region’s Lepcha communities, who fear further disaster, are protesting against the construction.

A controversial dam

Sikkim is home to 40 of India’s 189 potentially dangerous glacial lakes across the Himalayan region, many of which are at risk due to rising temperatures and glacial melt driven by climate change.

Built on a river already lined with dams constructed by the National Hydroelectric Power Corporation (NHPC), the Teesta III dam was originally pitched as a renewable energy project.

Approved in 2005 with a budget of Rs 5,705 crore (about $667m), the dam actually cost more than Rs 14,000 crore ($1.6bn) to build by the time it became operational in 2017. Delays were caused by the 2011 earthquake, which destroyed major infrastructure, and also repeated flash floods and landslides.

The dam faced criticism from environmentalists and the All India Power Engineers Federation (AIPEF), which described it as a “failed example of public-private partnership” for the massive cost overruns, years of delay, ecological damage and disregard for Indigenous rights and livelihoods.

The operator, Sikkim Urja Limited (formerly Teesta Urja Ltd or TUL), was forced to sell electricity at half the agreed rate as buyers, including the states of Punjab, Haryana, Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan, refused to pay higher prices. In 2017, transmission delays caused yet more losses of about Rs 6 crore ($701,000) per day from June to September 2017.

Following the devastating flooding of 2023, the estimated reconstruction cost for the dam is now Rs 4,189 crore ($490m), but experts question how such a large-scale reconstruction could be completed at less than a third of its original building cost.

An investigation in May this year renewed concerns about the project. The Sikkim Vigilance Police, a special police force, found irregularities in the process used to select the independent power producer, who, according to the findings of the police investigation, lacked the qualifications for a project of this scale. It was alleged that critical dam design parameters had been compromised as a result.

Other reports have found that environmental assessments also overlooked key risks. A 2006 biodiversity report [PDF] from Delhi University had identified the Chungthang region as a highly sensitive ecological zone. Yet the project received swift environmental clearance from the environment ministry based on a report which claimed that little to no significant wildlife existed in the area. The clearance procedure also bypassed the ministry’s own directive that no dams could be approved in Sikkim until a full “carrying capacity study” (a study of an area’s capacity for supporting human life and industry) of the Teesta basin had been completed.

“What was the hurry to give clearance for rebuilding even before the Central Water Commission and Central Electricity Authority cleared the design?” asks Himanshu Thakkar, coordinator of South Asia Network on Dams, Rivers and People (SANDRP), an advocacy group working on the water sector. “The Environmental Impact Report (EIA) used was done before 2006, which didn’t consider the risk of a GLOF. It contributed to the disaster, and now the same flawed EIA is being used again. Even the dam safety report prepared after the collapse hasn’t been made public or considered for this decision.”

While a “concrete faced rockfill dam” is planned this time – supposedly more resilient to flooding than the old “concrete gravity dam” design – experts and local communities still worry this won’t be enough because, they say, key impact studies are incomplete.

Al Jazeera reached out to MoEF&CC with questions about why the Teesta III reconstruction had been approved without a new EIA, despite concerns over safety and ecological impacts. Questions were also sent to Sikkim Urja Ltd regarding reconstruction plans and structural safety and to NHPC about the cumulative impacts of multiple dams along the Teesta. Emails and calls to all these offices remained unanswered by the time of publication.

Tunnelling and blasting during the original construction of Teesta III, before it opened in 2017, led to landslides, erosion and damage to homes. Yet, no comprehensive assessment has been conducted on seismic risks, reduced river flow or long-term ecological impacts.

“Our soil is fragile,” says Sangdup Lepcha, president of ACT. “We are seeing more landslides every year. During the GLOF, the soil was completely washed away. If tunnels are dug again under our villages, the area could collapse.”

Sangdup, who lives in Sanggong village in Lower Dzongu, says the 10km stretch from Namprikdang to Dikchu is the only remaining stretch of the Teesta without any dams.

Many worry that if the rebuilding of Teesta III continues without safeguards, it will put villages at risk. “We have already seen what happened in Naga,” says Sangdup. “Why is the project getting emergency clearance while affected families are still waiting for rehabilitation?”

Sacred land

Dzongu, a region bordering the Kanchenjunga Biosphere Reserve in North Sikkim, is a protected reserve for the Indigenous Lepcha community. Known for their spiritual ties to the rivers and mountains, the Lepchas from Dzongu have long resisted large-scale hydropower projects in the region to protect their identity, livelihoods and the biodiversity of the region.

When multiple dams were proposed in the early 2000s along the Teesta basin – a river the Lepchas revere as a living deity – ACT spearheaded protests against dam construction. Their hunger strikes and protests led to the cancellation of four major hydropower projects in Dzongu and four outside.

“We are animists,” says Mayalmit Lepcha, ACT’s general secretary. “Our traditions, culture, identity, and everything else are tied to Mount Kanchenjunga, Teesta, Rangeet and Rongyong rivers here.”

Despite their long history of activism, the communities say they were ignored during the public consultation process, even though their land and rivers would be used for the proposed 520 MW Teesta IV hydroelectric project.

At least 16 villages lie near the potential construction site, across the agricultural belt of North Sikkim. The project would include building tunnels underneath Hee Gyathang and Sanggong villages in Dzongu to carry water to the power station. The siltation tunnel, which will divert sediment-laden water away from the main reservoir, is supposed to run beneath the Tung Kyong Dho, a sacred lake known for its rich biodiversity.

Songmit Lepcha, from Dzongu’s Hee Gyathang village, told Al Jazeera that she lost her livestock and plantation during flash floods in June last year. “We are scared of rebuilding our homes,” Songmit said, her voice filled with worry.

Opposition Citizen Action Party (CAP) leader Ganesh Rai told Al Jazeera that he is particularly worried about the new plans to rebuild the dam to a height of 118.64 metres, twice as high as the original. “With climate change intensifying, any future breach could submerge all of Chungthang,” he said. “It won’t just affect Dzongu but everyone downstream.”

That could include settlements in Dikchu, Rangpo, Singtam and Kalimpong, and Darjeeling and Jalpaiguri districts in West Bengal, which were severely affected by the 2023 flood. In places like Bhalukhola near Melli, families have been living in makeshift relief camps since the 2023 floods. Conditions are difficult, with limited access to clean water, sanitation and medical care.

Struggles downstream

The 2023 flood did not just destroy 22-year-old Leboon Thapa’s family home in Bhalukhola in north Bengal, about 100km downstream from the site of the old Teesta III dam. It also disrupted his dreams of a professional football career.

Leboon is now living with his parents in a single, cramped room inside a relief camp along the Teesta highway, which is situated above Bhalukhola. They are sandwiched between works being done to widen the highway in front of their site, and the ongoing tunnel construction work for the Sevoke-Rangpo railway project behind them. The exposed location leaves them at risk of landslides and flooding.

“If they are rebuilding the dam, they must build protection walls here for our safety,” says the lanky, athletic young man, looking around at what’s left of his village. The fields he played football in as a child, as well as the playground he once ran about in, are now buried under silt and debris. “We only have this land. If we lose it, where do we go?”

About 10km further downstream in Teesta Bazar, 68-year-old Tikaram Karki lost his house and motorcycle repair shop to the 2023 flooding. His home, built above the riverbank, began cracking and sliding just a few days after the flood.

“We were hiding in the mountains in the rain. When we came back at 6am, there were no houses, roads, or electricity,” he says, as he stands next to what remains of his house and shop, both of which are leaning steeply towards the Teesta. He smiles even as he talks about his losses since that dreadful night.

Tikaram now lives in a rented house with his family of four. He is paying Rs 8,000 ($93) monthly rent while struggling with financial losses as he has no way to run his business.

He received some compensation from the West Bengal state government, but it does not cover all he has lost. “I have been living here for 30 years and spent Rs 30 lakh ($35,000) building my house. I only got Rs 75,000 ($876) in compensation. What will happen with that?”

Like others here, Tikaram says he believes the destruction was made worse by years of poor planning and unchecked silt buildup caused by the dam, which raised the riverbed of the Teesta.

“If they had cleared the silt during the dry months, we wouldn’t be so vulnerable now,” he says.

“I cannot tell the government not to build the dam, but they should build proper protection for all the people still living along Teesta,” adds Tikaram.

Rising risk

In a January 2025 study by an international team of scientists and NGOs published in the Science journal, researchers warned that South Lhonak Lake is one of the more rapidly expanding and hazardous glacial lakes in Sikkim. The lake expanded from 0.15 square kilometres in 1975 to 1.68sq km by 2023, posing a danger of flooding to the communities downstream.

“The Teesta-III dam played a significant role in amplifying the downstream impact of the South Lhonak GLOF disaster,” Azam, at the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD), tells Al Jazeera.

Azam explains that while the disastrous flood could not have been prevented, its impact could have been significantly reduced through better infrastructure planning and active monitoring of the lake. “Reinforced spillways, sediment handling systems, and early warning systems linked to upstream sensors could have provided critical response time,” he says.

The night the flood hit, the dam’s power station was still operating. According to Thakkar, authorities had received alerts well in advance, but there were no standard operating procedures or emergency protocols in place about opening spillway gates during such situations. “And there has been no accountability since,” he added.

Thakkar says he is deeply concerned that the dam is being rebuilt without taking into account the flood potential based on current rainfall patterns.

“And what happens to the other downstream dams when this one releases excess water during the next flood?” he asked. “None of them are being redesigned to withstand that kind of excess flow.”

At the end of May, there was a landslide at the Teesta VI dam site in Singtam. “This is happening every monsoon,” said Gyatso.

Rai criticises the state’s priorities, saying the government was “pushing for more dams instead of strengthening disaster preparedness” at a time when the frequency of extreme weather events is expected to increase.

‘No Future Here’

Nearly two years after the October 2023 flood, Tashi Choden Lepcha still has no home. Her voice chokes up as she speaks about her houses in Naga village.

“We were born there, raised children there. Now we have nothing,” she says of herself and her husband, wiping her tears. Her brother used to live next door: he lost everything as well.

After the disaster, she, her husband and children stayed in a school building in Naga. But when cracks appeared in the school walls, they were shifted to Singhik. The lodge, too, is beginning to show cracks in the kitchen and bathroom.

Her husband and children have since relocated to Siliguri, about 150km away,  for work and education, while she stayed behind alone because she teaches at Naga Secondary School.

The government gave them Rs 1.3 lakh ($1,520) in compensation, but most of it went on the cost of moving their belongings to different locations.

There have been discussions about allocating land higher up in the mountains for the displaced families. But many of them fear it could take years before they are rehoused. “If the government gives us land in a safe location, we can build a house. How long can we live like this? We have no future here,” she says now.

Most people in the surrounding villages share her fears. They want the dam project scrapped or moved to a safer location.

Mayalmit echoes this call for caution. “We’re going to have more GLOFs, there’s no doubt,” she says.

“People will have confidence only if decisions are based on proper impact assessments, considering all factors, and done in a transparent way,” Thakkar adds. “But that’s not happening now, which is why there’s scepticism about hydro projects among locals.”

He says that Indigenous communities must be part of the decision-making process. “They’re the ones most at risk, and also the most knowledgeable.”

Praful Rao of Save The Hills, an NGO working in disaster management in North Bengal and Sikkim, has called for joint disaster planning between the two states. “What happens upstream affects us downstream. It is time we work together for science-based disaster planning, not blindly push dam projects for revenue.”

While hydroelectricity is important for India’s energy future, Rao warns against unchecked expansion. “You can’t build dams every few kilometres. We need to study how many this fragile region can safely support.”

Mayalmit urges central and state authorities to reconsider the approval. “Don’t act against Indigenous rights, the environment. I speak for the rivers, the birds and the animals here.”

Assam, India – Makon Kumar’s wrinkled fingers are covered in dried-up clay. She squats on the damp dirt outside her one-room, bamboo-stilted home and spins a pottery wheel – a palm-sized grey bowl – with her left toe.

Inside the bowl is a lump of newly-bought wet clay, which Kumar slaps, flattens and curves into the pot’s base.

“My grandma and her grandma passed this practice down to us. We are not farmers, we have no land, and this is our work,” 60-year-old Makon said as she pressed her fist into the clay and carved out the pot’s mouth.

Makon belongs to the Kumar community of about 540 people, whose women have been known for their unique pottery work since the 16th century. These women avoid machinery or a potter’s wheel but rely on their toes to spin a plate or bowl with clay.

The Kumars live on Majuli, an island district between the Subansiri and the mighty Brahmaputra rivers in India’s northeastern state of Assam. Home to nearly 200,000 people, which includes people from other ethnic groups, Majuli has shrunk from 1,300sq km (502sq miles) to 483sq km (186.5sq miles) in a century due to erosion caused by annual monsoon rains and floods.

During the monsoon season, which can stretch from May to September, the floodwaters can get more than 1.5 metres (5 feet) high, forcing Makon and the other Kumars to either seek shelter at the highway bordering the village or stay trapped inside their homes.

Last week, the Assam State Disaster Management Authority (ASDMA) said there were more than 72,000 people taking shelter in 355 relief camps across the state due to the floods, which have also killed at least 24 people this year.

Access to riverside clay denied

During the floods, the Kumars’ pottery business comes to a halt, interrupting their main source of income. Moreover, the lack of flood prevention efforts by the authorities has worsened their condition.

“[Our family] used to get clay from the banks of the Brahmaputra River,” Makon told Al Jazeera.

Kumar men traditionally dug 18 to 21 metres (60 to 70 feet) deep on the riverbank to extract a glutinous, dark grey clay that locals call Kumar “maati” (soil).

The state-run Brahmaputra Board, which supervises the government’s response to the floods and soil erosion, began building river embankments in 2018, preventing the Kumars from digging the riverbank for clay.

“While the Brahmaputra Board deeply respects this traditional craft [of making pottery], extracting clay directly from the exposed riverbanks causes severe soil erosion, hindering the board’s efforts to protect Majuli island,” a spokesperson for the board told Al Jazeera.

The spokesperson said the board provided an alternative to the Kumar potters by making clay available through designated pits or boreholes that could be accessed after filling an application form. The board, however, did not say how many Kumars applied.

Makon said the embankment on the Brahmaputra forced her to buy clay from mainland Assam, increasing her expenses for a business already lacking commercial value or organised marketing.

November is their best month when floodwaters recede and foreign and Indian tourists take a 90-minute ferry from Jorhat, a city in mainland Assam, to Majuli’s Salmora village, where the Kumar women sculpt pots with their hands and feet. The tour brings extra cash for Makon’s two daughters studying in a secondary school.

On other days, the Kumars sculpt and sell pots of various sizes to local vendors. Tekelis, the most popular and smallest pot used for storing milk, is sold for just 10 rupees ($0.12) to vendors, who resell them for 20 to 100 rupees ($0.23-$1.15) at shops across Majuli and mainland Assam.

Salmora has long, narrow dirt roads, with rows of bamboo and concrete houses built on stilts. When the island is not flooded, hundreds of dried tekelis lie stacked on top of each other on a road bordering the village. The men bake those pots and sell them in the market.

‘No money in it’

However, it is not just a dying form of pottery that is under threat in flood-prone Majuli.

Almost 18km (11 miles) from Salmora lies Upper Katoni village, where the silence of the nights is often interrupted by young men and boys singing and thumping hollow drums. They perform a four-hour theatrical production known as Bhaona, mostly performed past midnight. Locals come for the performance after finishing their dinner, sit on the floor, and watch their neighbours, siblings, or friends perform.

The entirely male troupe of actors play characters from the Hindu epic, Ramayana.

“We’ve been rehearsing for the last three weeks,” said actor Jyoti Bhuyan, who plays a king in the dance drama. “Even in the hotter months, we’re able to perform.”

The Bhaona dates back to the 16th century and is performed at Namghars, open prayer houses unique to Assam. The island has more than 384 Namghars, according to a spokesperson from the Majuli District Office.

“I’ve been doing this since I was a young boy,” said Karunav Bhuyan, a Bhaona actor and political science professor at a college on the island. “What doesn’t change is that anyone from any background can come and watch us perform.”

Bhaona actors wear special masks, made from bamboo and a mix of clay and cow dung. The masks typically have wide, almond-shaped eyes; thick, furrowed brows; and a mouth flaunting a full set of teeth or bright red lips. The mask’s sharp, angular facial features, paired with contrasting eye and hair colours, are often displayed inside the houses of Majuli residents.

“At first, no one wanted to make masks because there was no money in it,” 67-year-old mask maker Hem Chandra Goswami told Al Jazeera.

Goswami, who lives in Majuli’s Samaguri village, started making smaller, easy-to-hang masks and has been teaching the art to high school students since 2012. He was awarded the Padma Shri, India’s fourth-highest civilian honour, in 2023 for promoting the art form.

Traditionally, only men made masks and used them for Bhaona performances. But that is changing.

Brishti Hazarika, a 25-year-old theatre student, is learning mask-making at Majuli University of Culture, an institution dedicated to preserving the local art forms. “Whether we get financial help from the government or not, it doesn’t stop us from putting on shows or enjoying our festivals,” Hazarika said.

The island’s more well-known tourist attractions are the Satras – the cultural and religious centres where celibate male monks, draped in white cotton cloth, reside.

Known as Bhakats, these monks join the Satras during preadolescence and spend their lives worshipping Lord Krishna, unlike the polytheistic pantheon of numerous gods in mainstream Hinduism.

But annual floods and land erosion have reduced Satras from more than 65 to just 35 in the past decades, according to the Majuli District Office spokesperson. Worse, not every Satra is properly maintained.

Unlike Makon, the Samaguri Satra is located away from the Brahmaputra River and has, therefore, been spared the devastation caused by annual floods. That explains why Pradip Goswami, another local mask artist and a cousin of Hem Chandra, wishes there were more opportunities to produce the masks commercially.

“The way for mask making to continue spreading is by having a bridge over the river to connect us to the mainland,” he said.

‘This is all we know’

In 2022, the Assam government announced the construction of an 8km (5-mile) bridge connecting Majuli to Jorhat. But the $70m project was halted in September last year after Uttar Pradesh State Bridge Corporation Limited (UPSBCL), a state-run entity tasked with building the bridge, withdrew from the project over payment disputes, according to local media reports.

Al Jazeera reached out to the UPSBCL for its response to such speculations, but did not receive any reply.

In May this year, the Assam government said it was looking for a new contractor to construct the bridge. But Majuli residents say the government has been apathetic towards their lives and livelihoods affected by the floods.

The Majuli Cultural Landscape Management Authority (MCLMA), created in 2006 to oversee the island’s development and protect its cultural heritage, has not held a meeting in more than a decade, alleges MCLMA executive member Sanjib Borkakoti. Even the office where he used to attend meetings twice a year does not exist any more, he says.

“There is no [government] supervision,” Borkakoti told Al Jazeera. He said the Indian government tried at least twice – unsuccessfully – for a UNESCO World Heritage Site status for Majuli, a tag that would have brought “international attention and pushed the local government to protect what’s remaining”.

Al Jazeera reached out to a government spokesperson and Majuli’s local officials for their response to Borkakoti’s allegations, but did not get any reply.

Meanwhile, for Majuli residents like Makon, art goes beyond just preserving a cultural identity. It is rooted in survival.

“We just don’t know if we will have a home tomorrow,” Makon says as she gives shape to a clay pot, using a wooden bat. She spins the pot one last time to check for any bumps and says, “This is all we know.”

This story was funded by a Reporting Fellowship grant from the South Asian Journalists Association.

United States President Donald Trump has drawn mockery after he complimented the president of Liberia for speaking English “beautifully”, even though it is the country’s official language.

“Such good English, where did you learn to speak so beautifully?” Trump asked Joseph Boakai during a meeting with five African leaders at the White House on Wednesday.

“In Liberia?” Trump asked. Boakai seemed to chuckle before responding: “Yes sir.”

Alex Vines, head of the Africa Programme at the London think tank, Chatham House, told Al Jazeera: “President Trump’s limited knowledge of Africa was on show with his comment on President Boakai’s quality of English.”

Liberia was founded in 1822 as a colony for freed Black American slaves as white Americans sought to address what they saw as a problem – the presence of Black people in the United States once slavery ended.

Here is a potted history of the African nation:

Where is Liberia and how populous is it?

The country of five million people is located on the Western African coast and is bounded by Sierra Leone to the northwest, Guinea to the north, Ivory Coast to the east and the Atlantic Ocean to the south and west.

Liberia was founded in 1822 and became a republic in 1847. It is now Africa’s oldest republic and is seen by many as a symbol of African self-determination. Along with Ethiopia, it is the only African nation that was never colonised during Europe’s scramble for the continent.

There are officially 16 ethnic groups that make up Liberia’s Indigenous African population, with the largest being the Kpelle.

How, why and when was Liberia founded?

As the abolitionist movement against slavery gained ground in the US in 1822, a group of 86 formerly enslaved people arrived in Liberia’s present-day capital, Monrovia, the country’s largest port.

Jehudi Ashmun, a white American, was leading efforts by the American Colonization Society (ACS) to resettle free people of colour in Africa. While some chose to emigrate willingly, the organisation is known to have pressured or coerced others into relocating.

ACS was established by white Americans who believed that the presence of free Blacks in America posed a threat to the nation, as they might incite those who remained in slavery to rebel. Some also believed in the “inferiority” of Black people and thought them unable to achieve equality in American society. The organisation’s goal was, therefore, to establish a colony in West Africa that would take them in.

Liberia was proclaimed an independent republic in 1847, becoming the first African republic to achieve such status and be recognised by Western nations. Joseph Jenkins Roberts, an African American who had emigrated to Liberia in 1829 and become a politician, was elected the first president of the new country.

While Indigenous leaders resisted American attempts to purchase land, the newborn country was created after a US Navy officer coerced a local ruler to sell a strip of land to ACS. Its capital was named Monrovia after the US’s fifth president, James Monroe, who had procured government money for the project.

It is estimated that, in total, about 12,000 formerly enslaved Black Americans immigrated to Liberia between 1820 and 1861.

Who makes up the population?

African Americans and their descendants, known as Americo-Liberians, dominated the government of Liberia thanks to their ties with the US government, through which they were able to conduct trade, until a military coup ended their influence in 1980.

Despite being a minority of about 5 percent of the total population in Liberia, from the start of the republic, they mostly excluded the Indigenous African population from any meaningful participation in the political life of the country.

Indigenous people who had migrated from western Sudan in the late Middle Ages constitute a majority of the population. A smaller portion also migrated from neighbouring western African states during the anti-slave-trade campaign and European colonial rule in the 1800s.

In more recent years, it has opened its doors to refugees from neighbouring countries, especially from the Ivory Coast, where civil war broke out in 2002 and 2011.

What is the official language of Liberia?

English is Liberia’s official language, though more than two dozen Indigenous languages are spoken there as well.

Americo-Liberians, who dominated political power until the military coup in 1980, imposed English as the commonly spoken language when they founded the republic in 1847.

Other languages spoken by Liberia’s Indigenous ethnic groups fall under three main groups, all belonging to the Niger-Congo language family: the Mande, Kwa and Mel languages.

What caused the civil wars in Liberia?

Liberia has endured two major civil wars in more recent decades. The country’s conflicts were deeply rooted in ethnic divisions.

Samuel Doe, a member of the Indigenous Krahn ethnic group, led a military coup in 1980, which overthrew the Americo-Liberian government and put an end to its political dominance marked by ethnic inequalities. Liberian President William R Tolbert was assassinated during the coup.

However, Doe ushered in a period of authoritarianism and human rights abuses that led to the First and Second Liberian Civil Wars.

The first war erupted in 1989, when Charles Taylor, a descendant of freed American slaves, launched an armed rebellion against Doe, which killed more than 200,000 people and displaced millions.

A second war broke out in 1999 when a rebel group, Liberians United for Reconciliation and Democracy (LURD), began a military offensive to topple Taylor’s government with the support of neighbouring Guinea.

The conflict spilled over into Guinea and Sierra Leone but subsided in 2003 with the intervention of international peacekeeping forces and Taylor’s resignation and exile.

Taylor was accused of human rights violations and indicted by a United Nations-sponsored war-crimes tribunal in 2003. He received a sentence of 50 years in prison.

What is the situation now?

Liberia has mostly experienced political stability since the second civil war ended. It held democratic elections in 2017, marking the first peaceful transfer of power since 1944.

Boakai was elected president in 2023 with 50.64 percent of the vote for a six-year term, defeating former international football star George Weah.

Vines, from Chatham House, said: “Ethnicity is less important in Liberia today and Americo-Liberians are a lot less dominant.”

“Liberians still perceive close ties with the US,” especially because of deep connections with many Green Card holders, Vines said, but the significant cut of USAID funding to the African continent earlier this year came as a shock.

During Wednesday’s White House meeting with Trump, Boakai described Liberia as “a longtime friend of the United States”.

“We believe in your policy of making America great again,” he told Trump at the meeting before advocating for US investment in his country. “We just want to thank you so much for this opportunity.”

Why did Trump meet the leaders of Liberia and other West African nations?

The five countries whose leaders met Trump – namely Liberia, Gabon, Guinea-Bissau, Mauritania and Senegal – possess untapped natural resources, including rare earth minerals. The US president saluted them as “very vibrant places with very valuable land, great minerals, great oil deposits and wonderful people”.

Vines said Boakai’s presence at the White House was “opportunistic”, as the Liberian president was already on a trip to the US, rather than a reflection of deep historical ties between the two nations.

Africa has become a battleground for global influence in the US-China geopolitical rivalry, but Trump is known for his apparently dismissive remarks about the continent.

During his first term as president, Trump caused outrage after criticising immigration to his country from El Salvador, Haiti and the African continent, which he reportedly dubbed “s***hole countries”.

The current Trump administration is also known to be seeking to deport people who have outstayed their visas or are otherwise in the US illegally to West African countries willing to receive them.

According to some media reports, a plan was presented at Wednesday’s meeting, but it remains unclear what Trump offered in exchange and whether any leaders were willing to accept his offer.

Coroner’s finding comes five years after acquitted policeman Zachary Rolfe fatally shot 19-year-old Kumanjayi Walker.

An Australian police officer who shot dead an Indigenous teenager was a racist drawn to “high adrenaline policing”, a landmark coronial inquiry has found.

Racist behaviour was also “normalised” in Zachary Rolfe’s Alice Springs police station, said the 682-page findings released in a ceremony in the remote outback town of Yuendumu in central Australia on Monday.

The findings were delivered five years after the shooting of 19-year-old Kumanjayi Walker, leading to protests around the country. But Rolfe was found not guilty of murder in a trial in the Northern Territory capital of Darwin in 2022.

Walker was shot three times during the attempted arrest in Yuendumu – one of 598 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people who have died in custody since 1991 when detailed records began.

“I found that Mr Rolfe was racist,” said Northern Territory coroner Elisabeth Armitage, delivering her conclusions after a nearly three-year inquiry.

Northern Territory Coroner Elisabeth Armitage has handed down her Findings into the death of Kumanjayi Walker #auslaw https://t.co/4uAEzIkwhd pic.twitter.com/hNb6UPnDUT

— NT Courts (@CourtsinNT) July 7, 2025

Rolfe, who was dismissed from the police force in 2023 for reasons not directly related to the shooting, worked in an organisation with the hallmarks of “institutional racism”, she said.

There was a “significant risk” that Rolfe’s racism and other attitudes affected his response “in a way that increased the likelihood of a fatal outcome”, she said.

Walker’s family and community will always believe racism played an “integral part” in his death, the coroner said. “It is a taint that may stain the [Northern Territory] police.”

The coroner cited offensive language used in a so-called awards ceremony for the territory’s tactical police, describing them as “grotesque examples of racism”.

“Over the decade the awards were given, no complaint was ever made about them,” she said.

The policeman’s text messages also showed his attraction to “high adrenaline policing”, and his “contempt” for some more senior officers as well as remote policing. These attitudes “had the potential to increase the likelihood of a fatal encounter with Kumanjayi”, she said.

In a statement shared before the coroner released her findings, Walker’s family said the inquest had exposed “deep systemic racism within the NT police”.

“Hearing the inquest testimony confirmed our family’s belief that Rolfe is not a ‘bad egg’ in the NT Police force, but a symptom of a system that disregards and brutalises our people,” the family said in the statement shared on social media.

“Crucially, the inquest heard evidence backing a return to full community-control, stating what yapa have always known: when we can self-determine our futures and self-govern our communities, our people are stronger, our outcomes are better, our culture thrives,” the statement said, referring to the Warlpiri people, also known as Yapa.

Armitage’s presentation was postponed last month after 24-year-old Warlpiri man Kumanjayi White, who was also from Yuendumu, died in police custody in a supermarket in Alice Springs.

White’s death also prompted protests and calls for an independent investigation into his death.

Three Maori Party MPs were suspended from New Zealand’s Parliament for performing a haka in protest of a bill backed by a far-right coalition partner that they say was an attack on Indigenous people. The bill was defeated, but tensions remain high.

The high court has declined to hear a bid to block a project that Indigenous groups say would destroy a site of religious significance.

The United States Supreme Court has declined to weigh a bid from a Native American advocacy group to block the construction of a large copper mine on land that many Apache people consider sacred.

The court turned down an appeal by the group Apache Stronghold on Tuesday, keeping in place a lower court’s ruling that would allow the project to move forward.

At the heart of the case is a stretch of federal land in the Tonto National Forest, part of the western state of Arizona.

The San Carlos Apache tribe know the land as Oak Flat — or Chi’chil Bildagoteel in the Apache language. Members of the tribe point out that the land, with its ancient groves of oak, has long been used as a site for prayer, ceremony and burial.

But Resolution Copper, a subsidiary of the mining conglomerates Rio Tinto and BHP, believes the site sits atop the second largest copper deposit in the world.

In 2014, under former President Barack Obama, the US Congress approved a land swap that gave Resolution Copper 9.71sq km (3.75sq miles) of the Oak Flat forest in exchange for other parcels of land in Arizona.

That, in turn, triggered a years-long legal showdown, with members of Arizona’s San Carlos Apache tribe arguing that construction on the Oak Flat site would violate their religious rights. In their petition to the Supreme Court, they described Oak Flat as a “direct corridor to the Creator”.

“Since time immemorial, Western Apaches and other Native peoples have gathered at Oak Flat, outside of present-day Superior, Arizona, for sacred religious ceremonies that cannot take place anywhere else,” Apache Stronghold said in a news release in early May.

The group has also argued that the project would violate an 1852 treaty between the US government and the Apaches, promising that the government would protect the land to “secure the permanent prosperity and happiness” of the tribe.

The administration of President Donald Trump, however, has promised to push through the land transfer. The US Forest Service estimates the mining project could produce nearly 40 billion pounds of copper — or more than 18 billion kilogrammes.

But critics anticipate the result would be a crater as wide as 3km (2 miles) and nearly 304 metres (1,000ft) deep.

By refusing to review the Apache Stronghold’s appeal, the Supreme Court is allowing a decision to stand from the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals, based in San Francisco.

In March 2024, that appeals court ruled along ideological lines to allow the land transfer to proceed: Six judges voted in favour, and five against.

But on May 9, a federal judge in Arizona temporarily blocked the government from transferring the land, while the Apache Stronghold pursued its appeal to the highest court.

Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito did not participate in Tuesday’s decision, likely due to his financial ties to the companies involved. But two justices, Neil Gorsuch and Clarence Thomas, issued a dissent calling the Supreme Court’s decision not to weigh in “a grave mistake”.

“While this Court enjoys the power to choose which cases it will hear, its decision to shuffle this case off our docket
without a full airing is a grievous mistake — one with consequences that threaten to reverberate for generations,” Gorsuch wrote.

“Just imagine if the government sought to demolish a historic cathedral on so questionable a chain of legal reasoning. I have no doubt that we would find that case worth our time.”

The land swap was approved as part of a 2014 defence spending bill. A required environmental impact statement was issued during the final days of Trump’s first term in office in January 2021.

Raipur, Chhattisgarh – Indian security forces have launched an all-out war against Maoist fighters in Chhattisgarh state, as the federal government aims to “wipe out” long-running armed rebellions in the mineral-rich tribal region of the country.

The Karrigatta hills forest, which straddles across Chhattisgarh and Telangana states, has turned into a “warzone” with more than 10,000 Indian soldiers deployed in the anti-Maoist operation – dubbed “Operation Zero or Kagar”.

The right-wing Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which runs both the state as well as the central government, has drastically escalated security operations, killing at least 201 Maoist rebels, also known as Naxals, this year.

At least 27 rebels were killed on Wednesday, including the leader of the Maoists. In the past 16 months, more than 400 alleged Maoist rebels have been killed in Chhattisgarh state, home to a sizable population of Adivasis (meaning original inhabitants or Indigenous people).

But activists are alarmed: They say many of those killed are innocent Adivasis. And campaigners and opposition leaders are urging the government to cease fire and hold talks with Maoist rebels to find a solution to the decades-old issue.

More than 11,000 civilians and security forces have been killed in clashes involving Maoist fighters between 2000 and 2024, according to official figures. Security forces have killed at least 6,160 Maoist fighters during the same period, according to police and Maoist figures.

So, will the government’s hardline approach help bring peace, or will it further alienate the Adivasis, who are already one of the most marginalised groups in the country?

Who are the Maoists, and why are they fighting against the Indian state?

The armed rebellion in India originated in a 1967 rural uprising in the small town of Naxalbari, located in West Bengal state. The word Naxal comes from the town’s name.

Led by communist leaders Kanu Sanyal, Charu Majumdar, and Jungle Santal, the armed uprising called for addressing the issues of landlessness and exploitation of the rural poor by landlords.

The three leaders founded the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) (CPI(ML)) on April 22, 1969, to wage armed rebellion against the Indian state. They believed that their demands were not going to be met by the prevailing democratic set-up.

The Naxal rebels were also inspired by the revolutionary ideology of the Chinese leader Mao Zedong. Modelled on the Chinese communist party’s approach to capturing the state, they waged a violent rebellion against the Indian security forces in mineral-rich central and eastern India for decades. The West Bengal government, led by Congress leader Siddhartha Shankar Ray, launched a fierce campaign to suppress the Naxalite uprising.

I once again assure the countrymen that India is sure to be Naxal-free by 31 March 2026

by Amit Shah, home minister

Sanyal, one of the founding leaders of the movement, told this reporter in 2010 that “by 1973, at least 32,000 Naxalites or sympathisers had been jailed across India.”

“Many were killed in fake encounters. And when the Emergency was declared in June 1975, it was clear- the sun had almost set on the Naxalite movement,” he said. He died in 2010, aged 78, apparently by suicide in Siliguri.

Over the years, the CPI(ML) splintered into multiple parties, more than 20 of which still exist. The main CPI(ML) itself gave up armed struggle, expressed faith in the Indian Constitution and began participating in electoral politics. Currently, it is a legally recognised political organisation with several legislators.

Meanwhile, in 1980, one of the splinters, the Communist Party of India (Marxist–Leninist) People’s War, was founded by Kondapalli Seetharamayya and Kolluri Chiranjeevi in Andhra Pradesh.

Another major breakaway faction, the Maoist Communist Centre (MCC), had a base in Bihar and West Bengal states. In September 2004, the MCC and CPI(ML) People’s War merged, resulting in the formation of the Communist Party of India (Maoist), the largest armed Maoist organisation in India today.

The organisation’s most recent general secretary, Nambala Keshava Rao, alias Basavaraj, was killed by security forces on Wednesday in Bastar, Chhattisgarh – the last stronghold of Maoists.

Has the BJP intensified the campaign against Maoists?

The BJP-run Chhattisgarh state government has adopted a more aggressive stance against Maoists compared with the previous government led by the Congress party.

At least 141 Maoists were killed between 2020 and 2023, when the Congress party was in power, but after the BJP came to power, security forces claimed to have killed 223 alleged Maoists in 2024 alone, according to government figures.

“For the past 15 months, our security personnel have been strongly fighting the Naxals,” Chhattisgarh Chief Minister Vishnu Deo Sai told Al Jazeera.

“This action is part of the broader efforts, led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Home Minister Amit Shah, to make India free from Naxalism. This is a decisive phase, and we are advancing rapidly in that direction,” he said.

The security forces have currently surrounded suspected Maoist hideouts in Karigatta Hills, with the army’s helicopters assisting in the operation, according to authorities.

Whether it’s the Maoists or the DRG, the one who kills is tribal and the one who dies is also tribal

by Former Member of Parliament Arvind Netam

On May 14, India’s Home Minister Amit Shah announced the killing of 31 fighters in the Karrigatta Hills.

“I once again assure the countrymen that India is sure to be Naxal-free by 31 March 2026,” Shah reiterated in his post on X.

Overall, nearly 66,000 security personnel spanning a range of paramilitary and special forces have been deployed in Chhattisgarh.

The latest operation, which involves more than 10,000 soldiers, centres around the mineral-rich Bastar region of Chhattisgarh, which spans 38,932 square kilometres (15,032sq miles) – an area nearly the size of the US state of Kentucky.

The government has set up approximately 320 security camps in Bastar alone – home to three million people. The number of personnel at each security camp fluctuates depending on the requirement: It can be as low as 150 personnel and rise up to 1,200. They include security forces, as well as technical staff.

Security camps are often equipped with surveillance and communication equipment to assist in the operation against the rebels. The 20,000-strong local police force is also helping in the operations in Bastar.

The use of cutting-edge technology, such as advanced drones equipped with high-definition cameras and thermal imaging sensors, has helped security forces monitor Maoist activity in the region’s dense forests.

However, local villagers allege that security forces have carried out aerial bombings in various parts of Bastar using large drones. Maoist groups have also accused the forces of conducting air strikes.

Security forces have consistently denied these allegations.

Shah, the home minister, has made frequent visits to Chhattisgarh, even spending nights with security forces in Bastar.

But the federal government of former Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, who preceded Modi in India’s top executive office, had also taken a tough stance against Naxals.

Singh even called Naxalism the “greatest internal security threat” to India, and his government launched a major crackdown in 2009 under what it called “Operation Green Hunt” to quash the armed rebellion. Amid allegations of human rights violations, Indian security forces managed to reduce the terrain controlled by the Maoists.

In the 2000s, Naxals controlled nearly one-third of India’s mineral-rich tribal areas, known euphemistically as the Red Corridor, straddling the states of Chhattisgarh, Telangana, Odisha, Jharkhand and Maharashtra, among others. But the number of districts where Maoists wield significant influence had declined from 126 in 2013 to just 38 by April last year.

As the government claims success in its military offensive, human rights groups such as the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL) accuse the security forces of carrying out fake encounters or extrajudicial killings.

“A large-scale military campaign is being carried out under the pretext of eliminating Maoists,” Junas Tirkey, the president of the PUCL in Chhattisgarh state, said.

“Since 2024, violence, human rights violations, and militarisation have increased sharply in Bastar. Innocent tribals are being killed in fake encounters,” he told Al Jazeera.

Since 2024, violence, human rights violations, and militarisation have increased sharply in Bastar. Innocent tribals are being killed in fake encounters

by  Junas Tirkey, president of the PUCL in Chhattisgarh

The PUCL has identified at least 11 incidents as fake encounters over the past one and a half years.

On March 25, police claimed it had killed Maoist rebels Sudhakar alias Sudhir, Pandru Atra, and Mannu Barsa in Bordga village, Bijapur, about 160km (100 miles) east of Bastar.

But villagers allege the police’s version is false. They claim that the police surrounded the village at night, took 17 people away, released seven, shot three, and took the remaining seven with them.

The government has denied the allegations, but no independent investigation has been conducted in this case. The regular magisterial inquiry, which is carried out after so-called encounters, is not considered credible by rights groups and tribal communities as it is largely based on the police version of events.

“It’s true that Sudhakar was a Maoist and came to visit someone in the village. But the police captured Sudhakar, my brother and others alive, took them away, and later shot them, falsely declaring it an encounter,” the brother of Mannu Barsa, Manesh Barsa, told Al Jazeera.

Inspector general of police of Bastar region, Pattilingam Sundarraj, disagreed with these allegations. He claimed that Maoists often pressure locals to fabricate accusations against the police following encounters.

However, multiple so-called encounters in Bastar have been proven fake in the past, and in most cases, justice has evaded victims.

Even if they are eliminated from Bastar, Maoism is an ideology that cannot be defeated through violence alone

by Former DGP Vishwaranjan

Out of thousands of so-called encounters in Bastar in the last 25 years, only two have faced judicial inquiry. On June 28, 2012, 17 Adivasis, including six minors, were killed in Sarkeguda village in Bijapur district. On May 17, 2013, four minors were among eight Adivasis killed in Edasmeta village in the same district.

The inquiries led by High Court judges found all victims to be innocent. The reports were released in 2022 during the previous Congress rule, though no police cases have been registered against any personnel to date.

Even peaceful protests against mining projects and the militarisation of the region have been met with harsh crackdowns.

The Moolvasi Bachao Manch (MBM), led by Adivasis, was banned last year for “opposing development” and “resisting security forces”.

Dozens of Adivasi youth associated with MBM have been arrested since 2021.

Why is the recruitment of former Maoists in government forces criticised?

The recruitment of Adivasis, many of them former Maoists, in recent years by the authorities seems to have turned the tide in favour of the government.

The then-BJP state government started to incorporate Adivasis, particularly former Maoists, in the District Reserve Guard (DRG) force in 2008 with the aim of using them in anti-Maoist operations. The idea: Former Maoists are better at navigating dense jungle terrain and know about Maoist hideouts.

But past records have raised concerns. Adivasis enlisted as Special Police Officers (SPOs), as they were called, have been accused of rights violations.

In 2005, the state government ruled by the Congress government launched a campaign against Maoists called Salwa Judum (meaning “peace march” in the local Gondi language). Salwa Judum members were armed and were later designated as SPOs and paid 1,500 rupees/month ($17/month).

On one hand, the government itself had proposed dialogue with the Maoists. But now, that same government has turned Bastar into a warzone

by Soni Sori, Adivasi activist

But Salwa Judum members faced accusations of rape, arson, torture and murder. In 2011, the Supreme Court declared Salwa Judum illegal and slammed the state for arming civilians. Subsequently, many SPOs were absorbed into the DRG.

DRG personnel have also been accused of rights abuses, but such cases have rarely been investigated.

Campaigners have also questioned the policy of using surrendered Maoists in combat instead of rehabilitating them.

“The manner in which SPOs were incorporated into the DRG is disturbing. It shows how tribal youth involved in violence were again handed guns under the pretext of rehabilitation,” lawyer and human rights activist Priyanka Shukla told Al Jazeera.

Former Member of Parliament Arvind Netam believes Bastar is “in a state of civil war”. In a situation like this, he says, it’s the tribals who suffer the most.

“Whether it’s the Maoists or the DRG, the one who kills is tribal and the one who dies is also tribal,” Netam, a tribal leader, told Al Jazeera.

Campaigners have argued that Chhattisgarh’s new rehabilitation policy, which promises bounties and cash rewards, incentivises people to turn on each other for money, often with allegations that may be legally untenable.

Why has the government resisted calls for a ceasefire?

Interestingly, while the government has intensified its offensive, it has also continued to offer peace talks to Maoists.

“We still reiterate, Maoists should come forward for dialogue after laying down their arms. Our doors for talks within the framework of the Indian Constitution are always open,” Chhattisgarh’s Home Minister Vijay Sharma told local media last week.

The Maoists, however, insist on a ceasefire and withdrawal of paramilitary forces as conditions for talks. They argue that peace talks and military operations cannot run simultaneously.

In a statement, CPI (Maoist) spokesperson Abhay said, “The right to life guaranteed by the Indian Constitution is being crushed by the government itself … On one hand, our party is trying to initiate unconditional dialogue, and on the other hand, ongoing killings of Maoists and tribals render the peace process meaningless.”

Activists have raised concerns regarding the plight of Adivasi communities.

Soni Sori, an Adivasi social activist from Bastar, believes the government must take the initiative for peace talks.

“On one hand, the government itself had proposed dialogue with the Maoists. But now, that same government has turned Bastar into a warzone,” Sori told Al Jazeera.

“Given the way these operations are being conducted, the government should halt them, foster an environment conducive to dialogue, and take meaningful steps toward initiating peace talks.”

Human rights activists, academics and students have been targeted after being dubbed Naxal sympathisers. A 90 percent disabled professor from Delhi University, GN Saibaba was jailed for backing Maoists. Last October, he died months after being acquitted by the country’s top court after a decade of incarceration.

But state Chief Minister Sai says there will be no leniency in this matter. “Naxal eradication is not just a campaign but a mission to secure Bastar and Chhattisgarh’s future,” he said.

Is Maoist support declining?

In 2011, then-Director General of Police of Chhattisgarh Vishwaranjan estimated approximately 10,000 armed Maoists and 40,000 militia members in the Bastar region. Accurate numbers are hard to determine.

The rebels were able to carry out deadly attacks against the security forces. In 2010, they killed 76 paramilitary troops in a forest ambush in Chhattisgarh. Three years later, dozens of people, including the Congress leader who founded the Salwa Judum, were killed in a rebel ambush.

Current Bastar IGP Sundarraj P estimates about 1,000 armed Maoists remain, along with 15,000 affiliated individuals.

Internal Maoist reports acknowledge declining recruitment, smaller units, and ammunition shortages. Of the 40 central committee and politburo members, only 18 remain free – the rest are either dead or arrested.

Meanwhile, security forces have expanded, built new camps, and improved intelligence and training, while Maoists’ base areas are shrinking.

While our government is running an anti-Naxal campaign, we are also actively working on development projects

by Vishnu Deo Sai, chief minister of Chhattisgarh

Former DGP Vishwaranjan says Maoists are weakened in Chhattisgarh, but they have expanded into neighbouring Madhya Pradesh.

“Even if they are eliminated from Bastar, Maoism is an ideology that cannot be defeated through violence alone,” he told Al Jazeera.

“As long as we build a society on economic inequality, the ideology may resurface in a new form.”

Defending his government’s policies, Chief Minister Sai said that “security and development go hand in hand.”

“While our government is running an anti-Naxal campaign, we are also actively working on development projects,” he said.

Is the real fight over iron ore?

Naxals have invoked the exploitation of natural resources, particularly through mining leases issued to global corporations, and the displacement of local communities, as their reasons for picking up guns in mineral-rich areas of the country. Thousands of Adivasis have been displaced and their local environments severely damaged due to mining activities.

Of the 51 mineral leases in Bastar, 36 are held by private firms, including global steel major ArcelorMittal.

Former MLA and tribal leader Manish Kunjam echoes a similar sentiment, arguing, “The real issue is iron ore.”

According to the Indian government, 19 percent of the country’s iron ore reserves are in Chhattisgarh, mainly in Bastar.

Chhattisgarh accounts for 18 percent of India’s railway freight revenue, largely from mineral transport – and this is growing.

Kunjam explained that when the corporations Tata and Essar began their projects in 2005 to mine iron ore, the state launched Salwa Judum, evacuating 644 villages under the pretext of Maoist fear. At least 350,000 people were displaced. However, strong tribal resistance forced the companies to withdraw.

“Learning from that failure, the government has now set up security camps in mining zones, preparing for renewed extraction,” he said.

“Without village council approval, mining cannot proceed. If tribals protest, they will be labelled as Maoists or sympathisers and dealt with accordingly.”

A closer look at his claims reveals that most camps are indeed in areas where mining has begun or is about to. In Bastar’s mining belt, there is one soldier for every nine tribals. Many of these camps are funded by mining companies.

But Chief Minister Sai believes that the mineral resources in tribal areas should be utilised.

The idea of generating revenue at the cost of tribal lives is dangerous and unconstitutional

by Sushil Anand Shukla, opposition Congress party spokesperson

“The lives of tribals will change with the beginning of mining and industrial activities,” he said. He boasted that Chhattisgarh ranks second among mineral-producing states [after Odisha], earning approximately 14.19 billion rupees ($1.71bn) last year.

This year, the state has allocated 48 major mineral blocks to private companies in the state.

But mass poverty and lack of basic health facilities expose the government’s claims.

Netam, the tribal leader, pointed out that the state has an infant mortality rate of nearly 38 per 1,000 live births, compared to the national infant mortality rate of 28 per 1,000 live births.

In Bastar, he said, poverty is 80 percent.

The opposition Congress spokesperson Sushil Anand Shukla claimed that under the guise of mining, preparations were under way to completely displace tribals from Bastar.

“Today, Bastar stands on the brink of war, and its answers cannot be found by looking to the past. The government must stop surrendering to corporate houses and mining companies at the cost of evicting tribals,” Sushil Anand Shukla says.

“The idea of generating revenue at the cost of tribal lives is dangerous and unconstitutional,” he told Al Jazeera.