By a concerned citizen
In the heart of the Garo Hills, a vital institution is on life support. The Garo Hills Autonomous District Council, or GHADC, is a body meant to be the engine of local self-governance and cultural preservation. Yet today, it is paralyzed. For over three and a half years, its employees have worked without pay. Development funds lie unused or misappropriated. A profound sense of demoralization has settled over the council chambers, a feeling that echoes out into the public it is meant to serve.
The popular discourse surrounding this crisis is a familiar, tired soundtrack. The ruling party blames previous administrations; the opposition decries current incompetence; and the public looks on with a mixture of fury and resignation. This blame game, however, is a distraction. It is a superficial scab over a deeply infected wound. The truth is that the GHADC’s collapse is not a sudden failure but a gradual one, decades in the making. It is a collective failure, a debt owed by every political party that has ruled it, every leader who has abdicated responsibility, and every citizen who has accepted decline as destiny.
To see this crisis only as a financial or administrative problem is to misdiagnose it entirely. It is, at its core, a civic one. The technical solutions, such as bailout packages, audits, and new regulations, are necessary. But they are like a new roof on a house with a crumbling foundation. Without repairing the base, the next storm will bring it all down again. The real work is not just in the treasury; it is in our mindsets, our loyalties, and our collective will.
The Division We Choose
History offers a stark lesson in the mechanics of power. The British Empire did not conquer a united subcontinent through force alone. It mastered the strategy of division, pitting community against community, landlords against farmers, caste against caste. A divided people, they understood, are conquered people.
Today, we are free from colonial rule, yet we have internalized this divisive playbook. The labels have changed. It is no longer Hindu versus Muslim, but Party A versus Party B versus Party C. This political tribalism has become our primary identity, superseding our shared heritage and common good. Political parties ironically formed to represent our interests, now often thrive on this fragmentation. When we are busy fighting amongst ourselves over party loyalties, we fail to hold power accountable. We forget that the person across the aisle is not an enemy but a neighbour, bound by the same hopes for their family and the future of the Garo Hills.
The first and most profound civic reset required is to reorder our loyalties. We must consciously affirm that we are A·chik first, and party second. Political parties are vehicles for ideas, tools to be used, not tribes to be worshipped. This is not a call to abandon party politics, but to put it in its proper, subordinate place.
The Kingmakers’ Checklist
In a democracy, ultimate power resides with the voter. Yet, we have often surrendered this power for the cheap currency of momentary gratification: a few hundred rupees, a promise and a loud rally in expensive SUVs. The upcoming elections are not a popularity contest; they are a diagnostic test for our civic health.
It is time we applied the same rigorous standards to choosing our leaders as we do to choosing a professional for any other critical task. Imagine hiring a teacher for your child. You would not choose a teacher who shouts the loudest or offers the sweets to the children. You would look for qualification, integrity, a proven track record of responsibility, and a clear ability to communicate.
Why should the fate of our community be held to a lower standard? We must adopt a voter’s checklist that prioritizes:
- a) Courage over Compliance: Will this candidate represent us, even when it means disagreeing with their party leadership?
- b) Character over Connection: Does their reputation speak of integrity and competence, or merely of wealth and family name?
- c) Service over Servitude: Do they see themselves as a servant of the people or a servant of the party?
Yes, party leaders deserve respect but not worship. Respect is healthy; worship is dangerous. Today, what we often see is not respect but blind submission, where MDCs, MLAs, and their followers reduce themselves to bootlickers of party bosses. The result is a politics of servitude rather than service. A leader’s primary duty is to their constituency, not to a party boss in Shillong or Delhi. A representative who cannot stand on their own two feet is a follower in disguise.
A Call to Parties and Aspirants
This civic recalibration extends to the political machines themselves. Parties must be held accountable for their candidate selection. When tickets are auctioned to the highest bidder or reserved for dynastic heirs, they betray their stated ideologies and shut the door on talented, qualified individuals who lack wealth but not worth. We must demand that parties field their best players, not their richest patrons.
We must also be wary of new political parties that may emerge in the coming days, presenting themselves as saviours. We must not be tricked. A new party name or flag is often just old wine in a new bottle, a repackaging of the same failed politics. This will not solve our fundamental problem. We must not complicate the issue by chasing new illusions. The solution begins not with a new party, but with a new mindset. We must start from where we are and with what we have, demanding better from the existing structures and ourselves.
And for those who aspire to lead, a mirror is required. A campaign that begins and ends with “Join my party!” is a confession that the candidate is merely a brand ambassador, not a true representative. Would you trust a doctor who prescribed medicine for the benefit of a pharmaceutical company, or for the health of the patient? Leadership requires the same integrity. The mandate is to heal and serve the people, not to please a party high command. Medals and degrees mean little without the moral courage to prioritize public service over political servitude.
The Foundation for the Future
The path forward begins with a simple, yet radical, acknowledgement. Technical solutions can only breathe if a healthy civic culture provides the oxygen. Financial reforms will succeed only when voters choose leaders of character, parties reward merit, and candidates act as true servants of the people.
This is not a utopian dream. It is the hard, practical work of citizenship. It requires uncomfortable conversations in our homes and communities, a rejection of traditional and old-fashioned politics, and a renewed commitment to our shared identity.
The GHADC can be saved. Salaries can be restored, and dignity can return to its halls. But it will not be saved by a politician’s decree. It will be saved by us. The power to break this cycle has always been in our hands. We must now find the courage to use it.
