Sanjay Saxena | Lucknow
The demographic changes that have taken place in certain parts of the country over the past seven decades are not merely a matter of statistical variation. They tell the story of a systematic transformation, which has raised concerns among intellectuals, social organizations, and policymakers. Recently, former Tamil Nadu Governor R.N. Ravi, while speaking at the National Defence University in Gandhinagar, described the ongoing demographic changes in Assam, West Bengal, and parts of eastern Uttar Pradesh as a “time bomb.” He warned that if these trends are ignored, they could pose a serious threat to national unity in the future. He questioned whether anyone has paid attention to demographic trends in these regions over the past 30–40 years and whether such changes might prove divisive for the country in the next 50 years.
At the time of independence, Assam was a state where different communities and tribes had coexisted for centuries. However, according to the 1951 Census, Muslims constituted 22.6% of Assam’s population. This figure rose to 24.6% in 1971, 28.4% in 1991, 31% in 2001, and 34.2% in the 2011 Census. In other words, over sixty years, the population of a particular community increased by nearly 12 percentage points. Experts estimate that this figure may cross 40% in the next census. This growth cannot be explained solely by natural birth rates. Between 1961 and 2011, the Muslim population in India grew by 194.38%, whereas in Assam it grew by 286.16%, nearly one and a half times the national average. This gap cannot be explained by natural population growth alone.
Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma has stated that only about 3% of the Muslim population in Assam belongs to the indigenous Assamese community, while the rest may be migrants from Bangladesh. He also pointed out that the situation is more serious in districts along the Bangladesh border. In 2001, Assam had six Muslim-majority districts, which increased to eleven by 2011.The situation in West Bengal is no less concerning. The state shares a long border with Bangladesh, and infiltration from across the border has reportedly continued since 1971, particularly in border districts. According to the 2011 Census, the Muslim population in West Bengal increased from 25.2% in 2001 to 26.94% in 2011, with a growth rate of 21.81% during this period.
District-wise figures are even more striking. Muslims constitute 69.5% of the population in Murshidabad, 53.3% in Malda, 42.8% in North and South Dinajpur, 39.6% in Birbhum, and 36.1% in North and South 24 Parganas. In these eight border districts, the Hindu population has reportedly declined by up to 3% in each decade. Politically, the Left Front government, which ruled for 34 years from 1977 to 2011, has been accused of providing voter ID cards, ration cards, and Aadhaar cards to infiltrators. In return, it allegedly received consolidated electoral support until 2006. After the 2007 Nandigram violence, this support reportedly shifted toward the Trinamool Congress. These allegations are not limited to opposition parties. Deepak Kumar Ghosh, a former bureaucrat from Kolkata and co-founder of the Trinamool Congress, has claimed that the Left sheltered Muslim refugees for vote-bank politics, while the Trinamool gave such infiltrators a place in power.
In eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, commonly referred to as Purvanchal, the nature of demographic change is somewhat different. Here, the issue is not just migration but also differences in fertility rates among communities. In northern and eastern states like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, the total fertility rate is above four, whereas in southern India it is around 2.1, which is considered the replacement level. This imbalance not only puts pressure on resources but also alters political and cultural equations. Organizations such as the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and its affiliates have long raised concerns over this issue. Groups like the Vishva Hindu Parishad and Bajrang Dal have repeatedly tried to draw national attention to demographic changes in border regions. Cultural organizations such as the Asam Sahitya Sabha have also expressed concern about threats to Assam’s identity and culture. Scholars like historian and writer Nripendra Mishra have presented detailed studies on the demography of border regions. Publications like Panchjanya have documented these changes not just in numbers but also in terms of their impact on Assam’s social and cultural fabric.
On the other hand, several liberal intellectuals and minority organizations argue that this discourse is being given a communal color. They contend that portraying demographic change as a conspiracy by a particular community spreads hatred against Muslim citizens. Organizations like the All India Muslim Personal Law Board and Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind believe that the issue is amplified for electoral gains. They argue that the borders drawn during Partition were geographical lines, not divisions of people’s hearts. Bengal was partitioned, and parts of Assam remained adjacent to Pakistan. The problem surfaced as early as 1979 and is often attributed to policy mistakes during the Nehru era. Refugees from Bangladesh (then East Pakistan) were rehabilitated during that period, but migration did not stop even after 1971. Instead, vote-bank politics allegedly accelerated it.
In West Bengal, the Muslim population growth rate has been recorded at 252.95%, while in Odisha it is 323.40% and in Jharkhand 340.35%, all significantly higher than the national average. Experts believe that such figures cannot be explained solely by fertility rates and point to illegal migration from Bangladesh as a major factor.Ultimately, this is not just a political debate it is a question affecting the lives of millions who have lived for generations in Assam and those who sustain their language and culture in Bengal. When the proportion of a community rises rapidly in a district, it impacts power balance, land distribution, education, and employment. History shows that demographic changes have often redrawn boundaries across the world. In conclusion, Governor Ravi’s question still echoes: can we anticipate what these changes will mean for the country over the next 50 years? It may be an uncomfortable question, but it is an essential one. Without seeking its answer, neither these regions nor the nation can move forward effectively.
