Ladakh, a remote and rugged Himalayan region long known for its breathtaking landscapes and strategic significance, has been thrust into the national spotlight after a wave of violent protests left four people dead and more than 80 injured, including dozens of police officers. The unrest, which erupted on September 25, 2025, marks the deadliest day in Ladakh’s recent political history and has ignited fierce debate over the region’s future, the government’s handling of dissent, and the growing impatience of its youth.
The immediate trigger for the violence was the collapse and hospitalization of two hunger strikers, Tsering Angchuk, 72, and Tashi Dolma, 60, on September 24, 2025. They were among several activists who had been fasting for over a month, demanding statehood for Ladakh and constitutional protections under the Sixth Schedule—safeguards designed to protect land, jobs, and the cultural identity of India’s tribal regions. According to The Times of India, their sudden medical emergency galvanized young people across Ladakh, prompting them to take to the streets in solidarity.
By the next morning, Leh, Ladakh’s capital, was bracing for turmoil. A shutdown was called, and crowds gathered at Martyrs’ Ground, a site steeped in memories of past agitations. What began as a show of support quickly spiraled into violence. Protesters, many of them students and young adults, clashed with police, torched vehicles, and set fire to the regional headquarters of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Hill Council office. Security forces responded with teargas, lathi charges, and, ultimately, live rounds. The violence left four protesters—aged 19, 20, 23, and 46—dead and more than 80 injured, including over 40 police personnel. Several protesters reportedly suffered life-altering injuries, with some losing limbs.
Sonam Wangchuk, a celebrated climate activist and educator who had been leading the hunger strike since September 10, abruptly ended his fast as the violence escalated. Appearing visibly frail in a video statement, Wangchuk acknowledged that the hospitalizations of his fellow activists had acted as a flashpoint. "It was an outburst of youth, a kind of Gen-Z revolution, that brought them on streets," he said, referencing recent uprisings in South Asia. Wangchuk urged Ladakhi youth to halt the violence, warning, "We will keep our agitation non-violent," and lamented that his peaceful campaign had been derailed by bloodshed. "The aim of my hunger strike is defeated if young lives are lost," he added.
According to Al Jazeera, the protests represent the culmination of six years of simmering frustration. Since 2019, when the Modi government revoked Jammu and Kashmir's special status and carved out Ladakh as a separate federally governed territory, Ladakhis have staged peaceful marches and hunger strikes demanding greater autonomy and constitutional safeguards. Their core demands include statehood, inclusion under the Sixth Schedule, separate Lok Sabha seats for Leh and Kargil, and employment reservations. Protesters argue that without these protections, Ladakh’s fragile ecosystem, traditional land rights, and unique cultural identity are at risk.
The government, however, has so far resisted these demands. The Indian Home Ministry, in a statement following the violence, blamed “politically motivated individuals” and “provocative statements” for fueling the unrest. It specifically accused Wangchuk of inciting the crowds through references to the Arab Spring and Gen Z protests in Nepal. The ministry also emphasized that police had fired live rounds "in self-defense" after being attacked by an "unruly mob," leading to casualties. It urged the public not to circulate misleading videos on social media and pointed to ongoing dialogue with Ladakh’s civic groups, with the next round of talks scheduled for October 6.
Lt Governor Kavinder Gupta echoed the central government’s stance, calling the violence “heart-wrenching” and alleging a “conspiracy to disturb Ladakh’s peace.” He insisted that while everyone had the right to protest in a democracy, the day’s events were not spontaneous. Gupta vowed action against those responsible, warning that “vested interests” were seeking to replicate uprisings seen in neighboring countries. He appealed to Ladakh’s youth to restore calm, promising that the administration stood with them but would not tolerate conspirators.
The political fallout was immediate and intense. The BJP accused the Congress party of orchestrating the unrest, with spokesperson Sambit Patra describing it as a “Congress-led protest disguised as a Gen Z revolution.” Congress leaders, in turn, blamed the Modi government for mishandling talks and allowing the situation to deteriorate. Manish Tewari of Congress called for a “forensic examination” of how a peaceful protest descended into chaos, while Omar Abdullah, former Chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, argued that Ladakh’s turmoil reflected broader discontent with the denial of statehood across the region.
For many Ladakhis, the violence is a grim echo of the past. The Martyrs’ Ground, where the latest protests began, commemorates those killed in earlier agitations for autonomy—in 1989, three were shot dead during protests for Union Territory status, and in 1981, two died demanding Scheduled Tribe recognition. But as Siddiq Wahid, a political analyst from Leh, told Al Jazeera, "What’s happening in Ladakh is horrific. It is scary to see Ladakh sort of pushed to this edge." Wahid noted that the anger of Ladakh’s highly educated but unemployed youth is particularly worrisome. "They’ve been waiting for a resolution for years. Now, they are frustrated because they don’t see a future for themselves." A 2023 survey found that 26.5 percent of Ladakh’s graduates are unemployed—double the national average—despite a 97 percent literacy rate.
Ladakh’s strategic significance adds another layer of urgency. The region, which shares a 1,600 km border with China, has been the site of tense military standoffs in recent years. In 2020, Indian and Chinese troops clashed along the Line of Actual Control, resulting in casualties on both sides and a massive military buildup. As Al Jazeera pointed out, the Modi government’s 2019 decision to revoke Ladakh’s statehood was partly driven by security concerns. Now, the unrest presents an internal challenge that could complicate India’s efforts to maintain stability along its sensitive frontier.
As curfew remains in force and security forces patrol the streets of Leh, many fear that the death toll could rise, with several of the injured in critical condition. Authorities have invoked Section 163 of the BNSS to ban rallies without prior approval and brought in reinforcements from the Central Reserve Police Force. Activists and civic leaders insist that only a return to dialogue can prevent further bloodshed. “We do not want instability in Ladakh and the country,” Wangchuk said, emphasizing that the struggle for Ladakh’s rights must continue through peaceful means.
The events of September 25 have left Ladakh at a crossroads. The region’s youth, once hopeful that peaceful protest would bring change, now stand disillusioned and angry. The government faces mounting pressure to address their grievances before frustration boils over again. As talks between Ladakhi leaders and the central government approach, the stakes—for Ladakh’s future, for India’s unity, and for the fragile peace of the Himalayas—have rarely been higher.