On October 11, 2025, Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma declared the Indian government’s newly announced Demography Mission a “decisive step” to protect the nation’s identity, security, and cultural heritage, according to Living Media India Limited. His remarks, made public on social media, come during a period of heightened tension over demographic shifts and a sweeping government crackdown on Muslim communities across India.
The Demography Mission, first announced by Prime Minister Narendra Modi during his Independence Day address earlier this year, aims to study population patterns and their implications for national identity and resource management. The mission’s centerpiece is the formation of a high-powered committee tasked with scientifically examining demographic changes and implementing what Sarma called the “3-D policy – Detect, Delete, and Deport.”
Assam, a state long at the epicenter of debates over migration and identity, is once again in the spotlight. Sarma asserted that Muslims now constitute over 38 percent of Assam’s population. He cited figures showing that the Hindu population in Assam declined from 72.51 percent in 1971 to 61.46 percent in 2011, while the Muslim population increased from 24.56 percent to 34.22 percent over the same period. “A decisive move to protect identity, security, and cultural heritage,” Sarma wrote in a post on X, sharing a table of demographic trends since 1971.
But as the government touts the Demography Mission as a scientific and necessary response, human rights organizations and local communities are sounding the alarm over the methods being used to enforce these policies. In June 2025, Mustafa Kamal Sheikh, a 52-year-old Muslim street vendor in Mumbai, experienced the crackdown firsthand. As reported by NPR, Kamal was detained by police and India’s Border Security Force, accused of forging identification documents despite presenting four different forms of ID, including a voter card. He was denied access to a lawyer or a phone call, and over the next five days, authorities flew him more than a thousand miles to the India-Bangladesh border.
Kamal recounted, “The border guard gave us 300” in Bangladeshi taka—less than $3—“and told us to cross over. If you return, we will shoot you.” Kamal was part of a group that included several dozen Muslims from Mumbai. His story only came to light after videos went viral on Indian social media, showing him and two other expelled Indian Muslims sobbing near the border and listing their Indian addresses, complete with postcodes. After a public outcry, Indian border guards allowed Kamal to return to India two days later.
This incident wasn’t isolated. According to Human Rights Watch, the crackdown on Muslims intensified after a militant attack in Kashmir in April 2025, which killed 26 tourists and triggered four days of fighting between India and Pakistan. The Indian government blamed Pakistan for the attack, a claim Pakistan denies. In the aftermath, Prime Minister Modi’s administration ordered the deportation of "illegal immigrants," sparking a nationwide sweep that, according to Human Rights Watch, led to the expulsion of more than 1,500 people—including Indian citizens and around 100 Rohingya refugees—to Bangladesh and Myanmar between May 7 and June 15, 2025.
Reuters and local media have also reported that authorities in the states of Assam and Gujarat bulldozed the homes of Muslim families and detained many more across India during this period. Most of those targeted were working-class Muslims who spoke Bangla, a language common to both India’s West Bengal and neighboring Bangladesh, making them easy scapegoats in the eyes of authorities, said Meenakshi Ganguly, deputy director of Human Rights Watch’s Asia division.
The Rohingya, a stateless Muslim minority who fled ethnic cleansing in Myanmar, have faced particularly harsh treatment. In New Delhi’s Shram Vihar neighborhood, dozens of Rohingya families lived in makeshift shelters. In early May, police summoned them for biometric verification. Resident Nooralamin recalled, “My parents and brother went with more than a dozen others but did not return.” Four days later, his brother called from Myanmar, explaining that Indian security personnel had flown them to the Andaman Islands and then forced them onto a navy ship, where they were ordered to jump into the sea near Myanmar’s coast. Fortunately, Burmese fishermen rescued them. “They would've died if a group of Burmese fishermen hadn't spotted this and rescued them soon after,” Nooralamin said. He believes he was spared only because his wife had recently suffered a miscarriage.
Similar stories have emerged from New Delhi’s Uttam Nagar neighborhood, where Rohingya residents faced detentions and threats of deportation. India is estimated to host nearly 40,000 Rohingya refugees, many registered with the United Nations’ refugee agency, UNHCR. Until 2018, this registration allowed them access to basic services, but the political climate has shifted sharply. Ahead of local legislative elections in New Delhi in 2025, the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) promised to deport Rohingya refugees within two years if elected—a pledge that helped secure them a more than two-thirds majority.
Some analysts and activists see these crackdowns as part of a broader political strategy. Teesta Setalvad, co-founder of Citizens for Justice and Peace, argued that politicians are stoking public fears by branding immigrants as “infiltrators” to distract from failures in protecting Indian citizens, particularly after the Kashmir attack. “A terror attack of this kind creates a certain national outrage,” Setalvad said. “Now it appears to us, this was to completely divert attention from that failure to protect the innocent Indian citizens.”
Ziya Us Salam, columnist for The Hindu and author of Being Muslim In Hindu India, echoed these concerns. He suggested that the government’s actions are less about illegal immigration and more about generating animosity toward Indian Muslims, especially in the lead-up to elections. Salam noted, “The idea is to generate hate towards average Indian Muslims and capitalize on it at the time of elections.” He pointed to a recent BJP campaign video that warned of a large influx of Muslims unless the party remained in power, describing such tactics as a diversion from issues like unemployment, education, and healthcare.
Despite repeated requests, India’s Home Ministry has not commented on these allegations or provided figures on deportations as of October 11, 2025.
For many affected, the trauma lingers. Kamal, now living in his mother’s village in West Bengal, dreams of returning to Mumbai to sell jhalmuri, where he can earn a better living. “If the police come for me, I will feed them too,” he said, referencing an old Hindi saying: “When you live in the sea, don’t make enemies out of crocodiles.”
As the Demography Mission moves forward and government rhetoric intensifies, India stands at a crossroads—balancing its identity and security concerns with the rights and dignity of some of its most vulnerable communities. The coming months will reveal whether the country can navigate this challenge without sacrificing the pluralism at its core.