By Sanjoy Kumar Barua
The Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT) of Bangladesh — a region rich in natural beauty, cultural diversity, and historical significance — is also one of the country’s most contested and politically sensitive areas.
Home to various indigenous communities, including the Chakma, Marma, Tripura, and many others, the region has long been plagued by complex land disputes that have strained relationships between these communities and the state.
At the heart of this conflict lies the struggle over land — the primary source of livelihood, identity, and survival for these indigenous peoples.
For decades, land rights violations, state-sponsored settlement programs, and forced land transfers have marginalized indigenous communities in the CHT, leaving them with fractured land holdings, diminished resources, and a deep sense of injustice.
These issues came to a head with the Chittagong Hill Tracts Peace Accord of 1997 — a landmark agreement that sought to address the region’s grievances, end decades of insurgency, and pave the way for a peaceful future.
A cornerstone of this agreement was the creation of the Chittagong Hill Tracts Land Dispute Resolution Commission (LDRC), tasked with resolving the historic land disputes that have festered since the post-independence settlement of Bengali Muslim migrants and the subsequent alienation of indigenous lands.
While the formation of the CHT LDRC was seen as a significant step forward, the real test lay in the formulation of rules and procedures that would guide its operations — a task that has proven to be both crucial and contentious.
These rules are not merely bureaucratic guidelines; they represent the framework for justice in a region where land disputes are not just legal issues but deeply emotional and cultural struggles that have spanned generations.
The CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission was established to address and resolve disputes arising from the government’s historical policies of land alienation and settlement in the Chittagong Hill Tracts.
At the core of its mission is the restoration of land rights to indigenous communities who have been systematically deprived of their ancestral territories.
The commission is empowered to examine the validity of land transfers, investigate encroachments, and adjudicate claims of indigenous people whose land was occupied, sold, or illegally transferred — often without their consent.
However, the commission’s reach is not just about correcting past wrongs. It is also tasked with ensuring that future generations of indigenous peoples are able to live in peace and security on their traditional lands, with full recognition of their rights as custodians of the region’s ecological and cultural heritage.
The rules of the CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission are not merely technical documents; they embody the promise of justice for communities that have long been disenfranchised.
These rules define how land disputes will be presented, who has the authority to settle these disputes, what kinds of evidence will be admissible, and the processes by which decisions will be made.
In a region where historical grievances run deep and where the stakes of land ownership transcend mere economics, these rules must be fair, transparent, and sensitive to the needs of the indigenous communities.
A significant portion of the rules deals with the procedural mechanics: how claims are filed, how hearings are conducted, and how decisions are enforced.
In theory, these procedures should enable a swift and fair resolution of land disputes, creating a path for reconciliation and restorative justice.
However, their implementation has been marred by delays, lack of clarity, and bureaucratic inertia.
Critics argue that while the rules provide a framework for action, they are often insufficient to address the complexity and the historical depth of the issues at hand.
Moreover, the formulation of the rules was not without controversy.
Many indigenous leaders have raised concerns that the rules do not sufficiently empower the commission to challenge entrenched interests or adequately protect indigenous land rights.
For instance, the rules have been criticized for not being comprehensive enough in addressing issues like the cultural significance of land, the dispossession of land over multiple generations, and the involvement of indigenous peoples in decision-making at every level.
These concerns are compounded by the fact that indigenous communities often remain marginalized in the decision-making process, with little direct influence over how the rules are crafted or enforced.
Despite the ambitious goals of the CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission, its implementation has faced numerous challenges.
These challenges are multifaceted, involving legal, political, and social dimensions:
The CHT has always been a region of strategic importance to the government of Bangladesh.
Political interests — both local and national — have often interfered with efforts to resolve land disputes. Settlement programs designed to populate the region with Bengali Muslim migrants, for instance, have been a source of significant tension.
These settlers, while legally recognized by the state, are viewed by many indigenous communities as encroachers on their ancestral lands.
The political will to dismantle or alter these settlement programs has often been weak, creating resistance to the work of the CHT LDRC.
Bureaucratic hurdles have slowed down the process. The commission’s lack of resources, staffing shortages, and administrative inefficiencies have caused delays in processing claims, which in turn frustrates communities already living in uncertainty and fear of losing their land.
The slow pace of hearings and the backlog of cases are among the most pressing issues.
The laws and rules that govern the CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission often clash with existing land laws in Bangladesh, creating a legal paradox.
There are questions about whether the commission has the legal authority to overrule decisions made by other government bodies, such as the Ministry of Land or local authorities.
Additionally, the lack of independent oversight and transparent accountability mechanisms leaves room for corruption, favoritism, and manipulation by powerful vested interests.
Indigenous communities, who have long been victims of land displacement, continue to feel sidelined in the process.
There is widespread skepticism about the commission’s ability to deliver genuine justice.
Many indigenous leaders argue that without meaningful indigenous representation in the commission itself — and in the rule-making process — it is impossible for the commission to serve the interests of the people it was designed to protect.
For the CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission to succeed in its mission, it must evolve beyond a bureaucratic tool and become a vehicle for restorative justice.
The rules of the commission must be revisited and revised to ensure they not only address legal disputes but also recognize the deep cultural, historical, and emotional significance of the land to the indigenous peoples of the region.
Ensuring that indigenous leaders have a central role in shaping the commission’s operations and decisions, ensuring that the rules reflect their unique needs and priorities.
Making the process more transparent, accessible, and faster, so that communities are not left in limbo for years, waiting for resolution.
The rules must incorporate mechanisms for cultural restitution and community healing, rather than merely addressing property rights.
Land is not just a commodity; for indigenous peoples, it is a sacred part of their identity, culture, and survival.
The commission’s actions should be subject to rigorous oversight and public accountability.
Transparency in decision-making will help rebuild trust among indigenous communities and reassure them that their rights will be respected.
The formation of the Chittagong Hill Tracts Land Dispute Resolution Commission and the rules that govern it are monumental steps in addressing one of the most protracted and painful legacies in Bangladesh’s post-independence history.
However, without serious reforms and a renewed commitment to justice, the commission risks becoming just another bureaucratic body unable to bring about meaningful change.
For the indigenous peoples of the CHT, the stakes are nothing short of their survival, dignity, and future.
As Bangladesh looks to reconcile its past and secure a more equitable future for all its citizens, the success of the CHT Land Dispute Resolution Commission will serve as a litmus test for the country’s commitment to justice, inclusivity, and human rights.
The commission’s ability to heal historical wounds, restore land rights, and empower indigenous communities will not only determine the future of the CHT but also shape the broader narrative of peace, justice, and reconciliation in Bangladesh.
The writer is an Editor and Publisher of www.thechtnews.com
