Announcing the Release of Securing Citizenship

Following the excerpts of the reports published on the blog over the course of November, the Centre for Public Interest Law, JGLS, has published Securing Citizenship, which can be found here. The report identifies the critical legal issues surrounding precarious citizens and stateless persons in India. It recommends strengthening the existing legal framework in three interrelated chapters: Status, Detention, and Socio-Economic Rights. The report’s recommendations draw on international law, Indian law, and best practices across jurisdictions, situating their implementation in India’s complex and unique landscape.

This report is the outcome of a research partnership between the Centre for Public Interest Law (CPIL) at Jindal Global Law School, Sonipat (JGLS) and the Faculty of Law, Université Catholique de Lille. The authors convey their gratitude to the advisors – Amal de Chickera, Ioannis Panoussis, Niraja Gopal Jayal and Ravi Hemadri – for their important insights on the initial drafts of the report and guidance in navigating the law concerning statelessness. The authors are equally thankful to the commentators – Andrea Marilyn Pragashini Immanuel, Angshuman Choudhury, Ashna Ashesh, Carly A. Krakow, Darshana Mitra, Jessica Field, Sagnik Das, Suraj Girijashanker and Thibault Weigelt – for reviewing the report and sharing their detailed analyses.

The authors owe their thanks to Mohsin Alam Bhat, as Research Director, for lending his support and legal expertise to conduct this study. As research supervisor, Aashish Yadav coordinated and supervised the drafting of the report, guided the team at every stage, and structured their findings. The authors are very grateful for his passionate engagement and contribution to this report.

The team is grateful to Prof. E. Tendayi Achiume, Dr. Bronwen Manby, Prof. Michelle Foster, Amal de Chickera and Prof. Joshua Castellino for their respective endorsements of this report. The report carries a generous foreword by Prof. B.S. Chimni.

The team holds enormous appreciation for AbhilashRadhaKrishnan for designing the report and making it an enjoyable read. They are extremely grateful to Raki Nikahetiya for graciously allowing the use of his photograph as the cover image of this report.

The student authors of this report are:

Anushri Uttarwar, Arunima Nair, Khush Aalam Singh, Veda Singh, Vrinda Aggarwal, and Yamini Mookherjee from Jindal Global Law School.

Amandine Desmont, Claire Jacquot, Flora Turrado, Hélène Jolly, and Theo Antunes from Université Catholique de Lille.

We welcome responses to the report from our readers as submissions to the blog. The report authors encourage readers to write to them with thoughts and comments.

To foster engagement with the report, we invite you to attend the Securing Citizenship Webinar, organised in collaboration with Centre for Public Interest Law, JGLS. Our panelists include Amal de Chickera (Co-Founder & Co-Director, Institute on Statelessness & Inclusion), Sujata Ramachandran (Research Associate, Balsille School of International Affairs, Waterloo) and Oliullah Laskar (Advocate, Gauhati HC). Our moderator will be Mohsin Alam Bhat (Executive Director, CPIL). Please register at https://bit.ly/3lPXPOl to receive the link and password for the webinar.

Excerpt: Rights of Child Detainees

The following post is an excerpt from the upcoming report Securing Citizenship’ on India’s legal obligations towards precarious citizens and stateless persons authored by the Centre for Public Interest Law, JGLS and Faculty of Law, Université Catholique de Lille. The Report reviews and comments on the key contemporary legal issues pertaining to citizenship and statelessness in India. Divided into three chapters – Citizenship StatusDetention and Socio-Economic Rights – the Report presents recommendations to strengthen the existing legal framework. This excerpt is the last in a three-part series of excerpts from the report. The previous excerpts on legal recognition of the status of statelessness and the framework of socio-economic rights of non-nationals can be found here and here. The entire Report will be published in the final week of November, and the schedule of events can be found here.

IV. RIGHTS OF CHILD DETAINEES

All the rights and prohibitions against detention established and elaborated above apply in the case of children. However, given their special and vulnerable condition, children enjoy additional standards of protection. This section begins with an argument against detaining children on the premise that such detention violates international law pertaining to child rights. Moreover, the state can deploy less intrusive measures in dealing with children. However, given that children may be under detention at present, this section details the rights of such child detainees to be ensured by the state.

The situation of children detained in Assam is worrisome. There is a lack of clarity about the number of children that are currently in detention; however, their presence in detention centres is a confirmed fact. A recent affirmation is found in the application filed before the Supreme Court seeking the release of declared foreigners in the detention centres in light of the COVID-19 outbreak. The application mentions the increased vulnerability of the detainees, which includes elderly people and children living in crowded conditions. There were 31 children in detention centres as per available information. The conditions of these detention centres pose debilitating effects on mental health, without adequate treatment and opportunities for education and recreation. The impact of this situation on children is exponentially greater and liable to pose severe harm to their health.

  1. Detention of children should not take place in principle

As per international law and Indian statutes, detention of children should not take place. The Central Government’s submission before the Supreme Court in the ongoing case of Assam Public Works is a welcome development, stating that children of parents declared as citizens in the NRC shall not be sent to detention centres and shall not be separated from their parents. The absolute prohibition of detention also applies to ‘foundlings’ as a particularly vulnerable category of children. It is argued that children should qualify for protection under the Juvenile Justice Act, 2015 (‘JJ Act’) as ‘Children in Need of Care and Protection’ (‘CNCP’). This section addresses the categories of children who are vulnerable and need protection. This section also seeks to establish safeguards that necessitate compliance when dealing with children in detention.

A.1 Principle of ‘Best Interests of the Child’

Detention of children for the purpose of deportation is a flagrant and unjustified breach of the fundamental principle of best interests of the child protected by Article 3 of the CRC. India is a party to the convention and has incorporated the principle in Chapter II of the JJ Act. As stated by the CRC Committee, the best interests principle is satisfied by the strong prohibition of detention of children since such deprivations of liberty have an extraordinarily adverse impact on the child’s well-being and development. This prohibition particularly must be enforced if the child is detained on the sole basis of their or her parent’s migration status.

While the lack of data is deplorable with regard to the age of the children currently detained in Assam, it is extremely likely that all categories of children and more specifically the most vulnerable ones, such as unaccompanied and young children, are in detention. In light of these elements, India is obligated to cease its current practice of detaining children in detention centres. All the children currently in detention must be immediately released as per international law and Indian law on the issue.

A.2 Detained children as ‘Children in Need of Care and Protection’ under the JJ Act

The Juvenile Justice (Care And Protection Of Children) Act, 2015   1 (4) Notwithstanding anything contained in any other law for the time being in force, the provisions of this Act shall apply to all matters concerning children in need of care and protection and children in conflict with law, including — (i) apprehension, detention, prosecution, penalty or imprisonment, rehabilitation and social re-integration of children in conflict with law; (ii) procedures and decisions or orders relating to rehabilitation, adoption, re-integration, and restoration of children in need of care and protection.   2 (14) “child in need of care and protection” means a child — (i) who is found without any home or settled place of abode and without any ostensible means of subsistence; or (vii) who is missing or run away child, or whose parents cannot be found after making reasonable inquiry in such manner as may be prescribed;  

The Object of the Act includes the making of comprehensive provisions for all children in consonance with the standards prescribed in the CRC. Therefore, the JJ Act can be used to operationalise India’s international obligations to address the vulnerabilities of both stateless children and children at risk of statelessness.

The scope of the term CNCP encompasses the broad categories of children who are at the risk of detention and its consequent negative impact. Section 2(14)(i) of the JJ Act refers to a child who is found without any home or settled place of abode and without any ostensible means of subsistence. This can cover children whose parents are in detention, who are stateless or are suspected of being foreign nationals. Such children would qualify for protection under the JJ Act. Further, Section 2(14)(vii) extends the scope of CNCP to foundlings i.e. children ‘whose parents cannot be found after making reasonable inquiry in such manner as may be prescribed’. [A foundling is a child of unknown parentage found abandoned within the territory of a state.] This argument is further corroborated by the view taken by Justice Lokur on the scope of the definition of CNCP, stating that the term must be given a broad interpretation. This means stateless children as well as children at the risk of statelessness qualify for protection under the JJ Act.

A.3 Conclusion and recommendations

The CRC and the JJ Act extend a large set of protections to these vulnerable children. The state must conform with best interests of children as mentioned in the JJ Act, keeping in line with international law. Detention of children for removal shall never take place, irrespective of the citizenship status of their parents.

  • Release all children in detention in Assam as well as stateless children in detention in India as per international law and Indian law. NGOs shall be allowed unimpeded access to detention centres in Assam to ensure that no children remain in detention.
  • Children at the risk of statelessness and currently in detention should be presented before the district Child Welfare Committee for drawing up protection plans on a case-by-case basis, bearing in mind the best interests of the child.
  • Develop alternatives to detention for stateless children and their families. Non-custodial, community-based alternatives shall be prioritised.
  • Rights of children in detention

As argued above, despite the prohibition of arbitrary detention of children, there is evidence indicating that children remain in detention in Assam due to their precarious citizenship. This section responds to rights of children in detention until they are released as per international law and Indian law on the issue.

RightIndian contextEuropean contextRecommendations
Right to family unity (if parents are also being detained)Children below 6 years of age are kept alongside their mothers in the detention centre. There is no clarity on circumstances of children over 6 years of age.Families in detention must be provided with separate accommodation to ensure their privacy.   Best practice: In Belgium, children accompanied by their parents are, in principle, not detained but transferred to return houses or to an open reception centre which are adequate, child-friendly alternatives to detention.Conduct an assessment on the compliance of the detention measure with the best interest of the child as per the family unity principle. Develop more alternatives to detention for stateless children to avoid the disruption of family unity, such as reception centres.
Right to education at an off-site facilityThe Supreme Court hasheld that India is obligated to provide free and compulsory education to all children between 6 and 14 years. The court has clarified the vast scope of Article 21A of the Constitution, referring to India’s participation in the drafting of the UDHR as well as the ratification of the CRC.   Issue: lack of data regarding any educational opportunity for children in detention in Assam.EU member states must provide minors, whose removal has been postponed, with access to a basic education system, depending on the length of their stay.   Best practice: Czech Republic allows migrant children to attend schools at the local elementary school outside the detention facilities. The ECtHR also requires the classes to be free as a bar against discrimination on the immigration and nationality status.Children must have access to an education system where they are taught by qualified teachers through programmes integrated in India’s education system, regardless of the length of their stay in detention facilities.They must benefit from free classes to avoid any discrimination.Education should be provided outside of detention facilities in line with the best interests of the child.
Right to recreation and playArticle 31, CRC + Best Interests of the Child. Issue: lack of data concerning children’s access to leisure activities in detention in Assam.This right is protected in Europe but suffers from poor and uneven implementation in the region. Best practice: In Lithuania, children may participate in recreational activities in one of the country’s detention centres.Ensure recreational activities in which children facing statelessness can meet local children and young people through NGOs or social workers.Sensitise the public with information on the significance of this right for children.Guarantee access without discrimination on the child’s legal status.
Right to medical treatmentThere is an obligation to provide access to health care services to all children. The state must ensure satisfactory health conditions and health-related education. Issue: lack of information on the health conditions of children.Necessary healthcare must be provided, at least with regards to emergency care and to essential treatment of illness and serious mental disorders. First challenge: the consent of unaccompanied children to medical treatment (rigorous assessment of the age and maturity of the child by Finland, the Netherlands, Slovenia and Spain). Second challenge: lack of paediatricians and mental health specialists Best practice: In Poland, children benefit from regular visits from paediatricians in the centre. In Portugal, children may benefit from psychological services to help them deal with anxiety, stress, depression, etc. and can also be referred to the hospital or psychiatric services if necessary.Ensure that the consultations are conducted in a child-friendly manner and are respectful of the child’s right to confidentiality.Organise regular visits by medical professionals from outside the facilities.Provide children information about available mental health services. Conduct medical screenings of newly arrived stateless children identifying potential issues, both physical and mental, that need care.Ensure a rigorous assessment of the child’s free and deliberate consent to medical treatment.

Excerpt: Framework of Socio-Economic Rights for Non-Nationals

The following post is an excerpt from the upcoming report Securing Citizenship’ on India’s legal obligations towards precarious citizens and stateless persons authored by the Centre for Public Interest Law, JGLS and Faculty of Law, Université Catholique de Lille. The Report reviews and comments on the key contemporary legal issues pertaining to citizenship and statelessness in India. Divided into three chapters – Citizenship StatusDetention and Socio-Economic Rights – the Report presents recommendations to strengthen the existing legal framework. This excerpt is the second in a three-part series of excerpts from the report. The previous excerpt on legal recognition of the status of statelessness can be found here. The next excerpt will cover ‘Rights of Child Detainees’. The entire Report will be published in the final week of November, and the schedule of events can be found here.

Socio-Economic Frameworks

B.1 International law obligations

As previously mentioned, this report acknowledges the fact that Indian citizens themselves are routinely deprived of these rights in practice. However, despite this unfortunate reality, a State has a legal and moral duty to provide access to fundamental entitlements to all individuals in its territory, regardless of their nationality. These fundamental entitlements refer to social and economic protection which includes access to healthcare, the right to housing and sanitation, the right to education and the right to work and employment, among others.

In international law, Article 25 of the UDHR covers a vast range of rights, including access to adequate water, food, clothing, housing, medical care and other social protections. This ‘minimum threshold’ for a standard of living is applicable to all persons and is certainly not conditional on citizenship. Based on the principles of equality and non-discrimination, the rights espoused in Article 25 of the UDHR provide the core grounding to the more specific articulations of socio-economic rights in the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (‘ICESCR’). The vast majority of human rights are applicable to everyone, regardless of nationality or immigration status (including stateless persons) as confirmed by General Comment No. 15 and 31. Specifically, in relation to socio-economic rights, the Committee for Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (‘CESCR’) in 2009 clarified the interpretation and applicability of ICESCR, stating that the Covenant rights apply to ‘everyone including non-nationals, such as refugees, asylum-seekers, stateless persons, migrant workers and victims of international trafficking, regardless of legal status and documentation’. This unequivocally clarifies that socio-economic rights recognised in international law are positively enforceable or applicable to all persons, including non-citizens, stateless persons and precarious citizens, regardless of their citizenship status.

Article 25 of the UDHR Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection.  

The 1954 Convention is the sole treaty framework that directly prescribes standards of treatment of stateless persons to be implemented by states. While India is not yet a signatory to this pertinent treaty, many of its provisions are now either customary international law, or at the very least offer important approaches relating to the protection of stateless persons that can serve as a useful model, as stated in the UNHCR Statelessness Handbook. The 1954 Convention provides a broad framework of civil, economic, social and cultural rights that must be granted to stateless persons. The broad categories include welfare rights to rationing, housing, public education, public relief, labour legislation, social security, access to identity documentation and gainful employment (wage earning, self-employment, access to liberal professions), among others.

B.2 Lessons from protection frameworks for non-nationals

India does not have a comprehensive policy governing refugees that have fled to India or for stateless persons and their protections. The Indian government’s approach towards different precarious citizens of other nationalities and stateless persons has been varied. The Tibetan community and those refugees recognised by (and registered with) the UNHCR serve as two distinct examples. Though the legal, social and political positions of these two communities are clearly distinguishable, their access to socio-economic rights present a blueprint of the rights that could and should be made available to stateless persons. Much like stateless persons, refugees find themselves at the risk of sliding further on the slippery slope of citizenship. Therefore, it is appropriate to refer to the Indian refugee framework and approaches to inform our recommendations for stateless persons and precarious citizens. The nexus between the two frameworks can also be observed from the fact that the 1954 Convention and the 1951 Refugee Convention have a shared drafting history where the former is largely modelled on the provisions of the latter.

An important caveat, however, is that the status of the Tibetan community is not a completely transposable model to stateless individuals, as Tibetans are specifically recognised and protected by the Indian Government. Depending on when they arrived in India (after the Dalai Lama’s ‘flight into exile’ in 1959) they possess stateless identity certificates, are considered ‘temporary refugees in India’, or fall into the category of ‘Long Term Stay’.  On the other hand, the refugees who are recognised and registered by the UNHCR, such as the Afghans, Somalians and certain Burmese groups, are ‘entitled to an assessment for a Refugee Certificate; a visa if granted a certificate, though often shorter-term; and the possibility of naturalisation, but this depends on irregular and opaque criteria’. Their access to socio-economic rights, therefore, is dependent on and varies according to their specific contexts and the kind of documentation they have. The UNHCR works with a number of implementing partners, such as Don Bosco and the Development and Justice Initiative (‘DAJI’) to facilitate support and access to these rights. Don Bosco particularly focuses on assisting vulnerable refugee children. It provides them with support in the form of ‘rescue operations, short-stay homes, home reparation, institutional rehabilitation, child protection mechanisms, advocacy, education skill trainings, accompaniment and foster care’. Nonetheless, despite the variations in the terminology and categorisation of the legal status of precarious citizens in India, the refugee framework illustrates the crucial socio-economic rights that have been made available to non-citizen communities, as outlined below.

RightMeasures by Government of India/UNHCR for TibetansMeasures by Government of India for Rohingya refugees
  HealthcareAccess to facilities in settlement colonies, administered by the Central Tibetal Administration.Access to Indian hospitals but ineligible for state healthcare subsidies available to citizens.In principle, they have equal access to Primary Health Centres. However, reports persist of Rohingyas being denied treatment due to lack of Indian documentation. Prescription medicines are expensive and inaccessible.Limited coverage by Anganwadis for maternal, neonatal, and early childhood care.
Food and Nutrition Access to PDS rations.Dependent upon rations supplied by UNHCR/local NGOs.Limited access to Anganwadis in certain states for infant nutritional requirements.
  Shelter, Housing, SanitationTibetan refugee settlements, established in the 1960s on Government land and administered through officers appointed by the Tibetan Government-in-Exile. Lease agreements signed with the Central Tibetan Relief Committee.The majority live in clusters of shanties, with shared toilets and water facilities. Wastewater from toilets flows out into open drains; some are forced to manually collect and dispose of faeces. Access to clean drinking water remains erratic, dependent upon sympathetic local residents.
  EducationTibetan secondary and high schools.Access to higher education in Indian colleges and universities. Eligible for Government scholarships.Children under age 14 technically have access to primary schools under the RTE Act, but implementation is erratic – admissions denied due to lack of documentation.When allowed to attend local schools, they are barred from the midday meal scheme.
  EmploymentNon-interference with employment. Seasonal sweater selling, agriculture, and small enterprises are their primary sources of income.Eligible for trade licenses in nursing, teaching, chartered accountancy, medicine, and engineering as per Tibetan Rehabilitation Policy, 2014.Not eligible for government jobs.Common sources of livelihood are rag-picking, construction work, sanitation work, and various kinds of unskilled labour in the informal sector. This work is precarious and makes for a very unstable source of income.

Excerpt: Legal Recognition of Status of Statelessness in India

The following post is an excerpt from the upcoming report Securing Citizenship’ on India’s legal obligations towards precarious citizens and stateless persons authored by the Centre for Public Interest Law, JGLS and Faculty of Law, Université Catholique de Lille. The Report reviews and comments on the key contemporary legal issues pertaining to citizenship and statelessness in India. Divided into three chapters – Citizenship StatusDetention and Socio-Economic Rights – the Report presents recommendations to strengthen the existing legal framework. This excerpt is the first in a three-part series of excerpts from the report. The next two excerpts will cover ‘Rights of Child Detainees’, and ‘Socio-Economic Rights of Stateless Persons’. The entire Report will be published in the final week of November, and the schedule of events can be found here.

II. LEGAL RECOGNITION OF STATELESSNESS IN INDIA

A. Recognition of Status

Statelessness poses a moral and normative challenge to the legitimacy of the international state system. In simpler terms, since the world is comprehensively divided between nation states, then every person should be able to claim citizenship and its attendant rights somewhere. Yet, thousands of people around the world face barriers in claiming citizenship rights in any nation because of several aggravating factors.

There are several stateless groups in India who either arrived or were born in India as stateless persons, such as the Tibetans and the Rohingyas. This section pertains to these stateless persons in Indian territory whose citizenship was not deprived as a result of any action of the Indian state. They have no avenues of return to their country of nationality as a result of their statelessness i.e. their state does not accept them as nationals. Thus, they are prohibited from exercising their right to return. In this situation, they cannot be deported and continue to reside in India as subjects of a legal framework which does not formally recognise their status.

A close reading of the Indian domestic law framework governing the status of non-citizens [the Constitution (Articles 5 – 11); the Citizenship Act, 1955 (Sections 2, 3, 6, 6A, 6B, 10); the Foreigners Act, 1946 (Sections 2, 3, 8, 9); and the Passports Act, 1967 (Section 4)] reveals that the definitional categories determining the legal status of an individual are inadequate for guaranteeing the rights of stateless persons. The use of the terms ‘illegal migrant’, ‘foreigner’, and ‘citizen’, as distinct and oppositional categories, operates on the implicit assumption that the person whose status is to be ascertained must be in possession of at least one nationality, even if that nationality is not Indian. None of these terms can be used interchangeably for a stateless person; the Acts simply do not define or acknowledge the phenomenon of statelessness.

International law on the right to nationality of every individual along with the obligation on the state to prevent and reduce statelessness commands states to naturalise all stateless persons in their territory. Hence, it is imperative that the Indian state recognise stateless persons formally and issue identity certificates to them, thereby ensuring recognition of their equal legal personhood for them to avail their rights. These certificates will ensure that their special situation would be addressed. The only pieces of legislation that recognise the status of stateless persons are the Passports Rules, 1980, framed under the Passports Act, 1967, which grant the MEA the power to issue certificates of identity. However, the duty of the state under international law, constitutional law and human rights law (as argued above) does not end with issuing certificates of identity. India must grant them nationality in accordance with international law obligations to ensure that they can enjoy their right to nationality.

As emphasised in previous sections, the lack of legal status is a direct infringement of an individual’s right to a dignified life under Article 21 of the Indian Constitution. In a juridical framework, a dignified existence can only be secured through recognition as an individual member of the civic community, which in turn forms the foundation for the free exercise of bodily integrity, autonomy, and self-determination. In Sheikh Abdul Aziz, the Delhi High Court recognised this urgency of determining the legal status of the petitioner. The Court excoriated the Central Government for its inaction in issuing a stateless certificate to the petitioner after nationality determination had failed, particularly after he had been confined in detention for an additional seven years, well beyond his initial sentence under Section 14 of the Foreigners Act. It understood that the issuance of a stateless certificate, under Rule 4 of the Passports Rules, 1980, and the subsequent granting of a Long-Term Visa (‘LTV’), were essential for the petitioner’s release from detention, and enabling his right to a dignified existence upon Indian soil. In National Human Rights Commission (Chakma case), the Supreme Court held that eligible stateless individuals, like the Chakmas in Arunachal Pradesh, have constitutional and statutory rights to be considered for Indian citizenship. Local administrative officers cannot refuse to act upon Chakma individuals’ applications under Section 5 of the Citizenship Act to the Central Government. The Court also held that the state is obliged to protect Chakmas from eviction and threats of assault even while their citizenship applications are pending. These cases indicate Indian courts’ proactive approach in reducing indeterminacy of status for individuals, assuring the terms of their membership in the civic community. 

For stateless persons in India, international law necessitates that the burden is always upon the Indian state to fairly and expeditiously determine legal status for such persons. As we have argued at length above, the state’s sovereign prerogative in citizenship matters is implicitly circumscribed by international law and human rights standards. Therefore, it is the state’s obligation to establish whether they are recognised nationals of any other country. If the state fails in establishing that, they must be naturalised i.e. granted Indian nationality.

It is also important to note that statelessness should not operate as an impediment to an eventual path to Indian citizenship. The naturalisation of stateless persons within the ambit of India’s existing citizenship laws has precedent: the Delhi High Court in Namgyal Dolkar ordered the MEA to issue an Indian passport to the petitioner who, despite holding a stateless identity certificate and being born to two Tibetan refugees, was eligible for Indian citizenship by birth under Section 3 (1)(a) of the Citizenship Act.

The significance of naturalising stateless persons residing in a State was recently followed by the ECtHR as well. In Sudita Keita, the applicant had arrived in Hungary in 2002. He was subsequently recognised as a stateless person after the local courts recognised that the burden on the applicant to prove lawful stay was contrary to Hungary’s international law obligations relating to statelessness. Furthermore, in the case at hand, the ECtHR held that the stateless applicant had been left in a vulnerable position for 15 years without access to an effective and accessible naturalisation procedure. With reference to international law on statelessness, the Court highlighted that his situation had resulted in grave difficulties in access to healthcare and employment and violated his right to private and family life.

This report further argues that the stateless persons should be automatically naturalised (i.e. grant of nationality) since any formal requirements in this regard would place an undue burden upon them. Such a process would fail to recognise the underlying discrimination and lack of access to documents. This is visible in the Sri Lankan experience with grant of nationality as elaborated in Section I.C.1 of this chapter in the full report.

Hence, it is only through naturalisation that stateless persons can access the full extent of their rights. Their exceptionally vulnerable situation and international law obligations demands that the state shall automatically recognise them as citizens.

Announcing the Release Schedule for ‘Securing Citizenship: report on India’s legal obligations towards precarious citizens and stateless persons’

This month, the Centre for Public Interest Law will release its Securing Citizenship report on India’s legal obligations towards precarious citizens and stateless persons. The Report reviews and comments on the key contemporary legal issues pertaining to citizenship and statelessness in India. Divided into three chapters – Citizenship StatusDetention and Socio-Economic Rights – the Report presents recommendations to strengthen the existing legal framework. It focuses on the deplorable conditions of precarious citizens in Assam and stateless persons in India to propose methods of prevention and reduction of statelessness itself. In providing current and immediately relevant legal tools to restore the security previously accorded to citizenship status, the Report aims to bolster advocacy efforts on statelessness in India.

To foster engagement with the report, CPIL is hosting a series of events and symposia in collaboration with Parichay – The Blog . The flagship event will be a webinar on the key themes of the report, taking place on 5th December. Below is the full schedule:

  • 18th November: Excerpts from ‘Securing Citizenship’ will be released on Parichay – The Blog. These excerpts are on the themes of legal recognition of statelessness, the rights of child detainees, and the socio-economic framework of rights for stateless persons. We invite you to reflect on these themes reflected in the excerpts before the release of the Report in its entirety.
  • Final week of November: The Report will be published on the Centre for Public Interest Law (JGU) website. Fellow academics, faculties, and students are invited to read, engage and discuss the Report. We strongly encourage responses to the Report which can be submitted to the Blog.
  • November through December: The blog will feature a series of posts by authors of the report, reflecting on contemporary legal developments relevant to the report. These posts will be accompanied by interviews with scholars with an academic background in studying statelessness in law and practice.
  • 5th December: CPIL and Parichay – The Blog will host a webinar on ‘Securing Citizenship’ with distinguished panelists to discuss the highlights of the report and their reflections on the issue of statelessness. In this flagship event, we hope to introduce the Report to a varied audience and invite anyone interested in the study of citizenship to attend. Please register at https://bit.ly/3lPXPOl to receive the link and password for the webinar.
  • January: Contributions by academics and students, including any submission of responses to the Report, will be published. The call for these contributions is open to all readers!

We look forward to your participation in the release of this report!

A Fact-Sheet on Detention Centres in India

This is the second in a three-part series of guest posts by Paresh Hate. Paresh Hate is a PhD candidate at Centre for Comparative Politics and Political Theory, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Their work revolves around critically engaging with the discourse of ‘Bangladeshi infiltrator’ in Indian politics by looking at immigration detention and immigration law as sites of its cultivation, deployment and legitimization. Paresh is the digital editor for Migrant Solidarity Network – India and is a founding member of Hasratein: a queer collective, LGBTQIA+ resource group and political organisation based in New Delhi, India.

As argued in the first part of this series, immigration detention is neither a recent development nor limited to Assam. It has been part of the punitive mechanism set up by immigration law, particularly Section 3(2)(e) of the Foreigners Act, 1946 and para 11(2) of The Foreigners Order, 1948, since its inception.

Recent detention centres are mandated under Amit Shah’s Model Detention Manual 2019, which was released on 9 January 2019, according to which one detention camp should exist in one the city or district where a major immigration check post is located and every member of a family should be housed in the same detention centre.

However, immigration detention has a long history in India, and such sites of detention are to be found all over the country. The immigrant foreigner population in detention centres in India is convicted under one or more of the four acts pertaining to immigration law, i.e. 1) The Foreigners Act, 1946; 2) the Registration of Foreigners Act, 1939; 3) the Passport Act, 1967; and 4) the Passport (Entry into India) Act, 1920.

While the case of Assam detention centres clearly shows that there are plenty of Indian citizens, particularly Bengali-speaking individuals, who end up in detention centres, the state maintains these sites for unauthorized immigrants. I use the term ‘unauthorized’ for two reasons: first, to problematize ascribing legality onto humans on the move and to attempt to destigmatize the ideological connotations associated with illegality; second, to point out that many who are stuck in the detention regime possess documents of some kind but are insufficient by state’s evidentiary standards to prove their “undetainability”. In this sense, ‘unauthorized’ refers to individuals without official permission to enter a nation-state, because they are marked racially, religiously, gender-wise, class-wise, or due to the bureaucratic and administrative protocols which disallow them to be seen as legitimate candidates for permission to enter or claim citizenship.

Until early 2000s, the population that was accused and convicted in immigration matters was kept in prisons that operated as makeshift spaces for detaining “illegal immigrants” who violated the clauses of the immigration law and may have additionally committed a crime under India’s penal laws. This practice continues even today in most parts of the country.

According to the Prison Statistics India 2019 Manual of National Crime Records Bureau, as of 31st December 2019, there are total 5608 foreign prisoners in India, out of which around 2171 are convicts, 2979 are undertrials, 40 are detenues (mostly in Jammu and Kashmir and Delhi), and 418 are held as other kind of prisoners. Out of these, the highest number is that of Bangladeshis who constitute around 2513 of these prisoners. Estimates of foreigners and non-citizens omit child detainees in juvenile homes and those held at other quasi-correctional state institutions such as the Reception Centres outside the prison system. Bengali-speaking population is also the most precarious group facing penalties under immigration law and are under threat due to the National Register of Citizens.

As of now, there are different detention centres across the country which function for punitive and non-punitive purposes managed by state government correctional homes, shelter homes, Border Security Force camps, and sites of Foreigners Regional Registration Office.

Assam:

The first de facto detention centres were built in the state of Assam under High Court’s orders of 2008 for detaining declared foreigners. In July 2009, the Revenue Minister Bhumidhar Barman of Assam had informed the state assembly that two detention camps would be set up to hold illegal immigrants at Mancachar and Mahisashan. By 2010, three such detention camps had begun at Goalpara, Silchar and Kokrajhar. In the next few years, three more detention camps had started functioning at Tezpur, Jorhat and Dibrugarh.

Currently, under the Model Detention Manual 2019, the current biggest detention centre meant for illegal immigrants is being built in Goalpara district’s Matia which shall house at least 3000 inmates.

New Delhi:

In Delhi, there are three publicly known locations where immigrants are detained. Two of them are managed by the Department of Social Welfare of Government of Delhi. One of them is located at Nirmal Chaaya in West Delhi which holds immigrant women and another is at Lampur Complex in North Delhi which holds immigrant men. This population includes trafficked women, irregular economic migrants, and refugees. The third one is at Shahzada Bagh and is managed by Foreigners Regional Registration Office in West Delhi and exclusively holds Bangladeshi unauthorized immigrants.

According to the data of Global Detention Project, a Geneva-based human rights organisation, the union territory of Delhi has had five other detention centres which are not publicly known. These are 1) Human Resources Department Cell at Hauz Khas which was in use at least till 2005 housing adult unauthorized immigrant men; 2) a detention site at Daryaganj which was in use at least till 2005, housing adult unauthorized immigrant men; 3) Alipur Road detention house managed by Foreigners Regional Registration Office which was in use at least till 2008; 4) Daya Basti Ren Basera which was in use at least till 2005 housing adult unauthorized immigrant men; and 5) Old Delhi Seva Kutir which was in use at least till 2005 housing adult unauthorized immigrant men. The current status of these five sites is unknown.

Punjab:

Punjab currently houses unauthorized immigrants at Central Jail, Amritsar. These are individuals who are declared foreigners.

Rajasthan:

Rajasthan holds unauthorized immigrants on jail premises in Alwar. These are individuals who are declared foreigners.

Gujarat:

One detention centre in Gujarat is located at Bhuj. Another one which was at least in use till 2009 was located at a Special Operations Group (SOG) Office which was a criminal police station in Ahmedabad that housed both immigrant men, women and accompanied minors.

Goa:

Goa has had a detention centre since early 2019 where it houses convicted immigrants who are declared foreigners. It is located at Mapusa sub-jail in North Goa.

Tamil Nadu:

In Tamil Nadu, an intermediate camp has been made that used to earlier be a women’s prison in the city of Trichy. At present, it houses around 60 foreigners, most of whom are Sri Lankans. The site is guarded by Tamil Nadu Special Police commandos and is handled by the state revenue department. Because it is the revenue department that manages this site, the nature of the site also differs. In the case of Tamil Nadu, it means that the location is maintained to supervise offenders who are neither under the usual restrictions of probation nor fully incarcerated because all the detenues are undertrials and are allowed to meet family members. Many of these detenues also await deportation.

West Bengal:

West Bengal maintains its own correctional homes at different locations segregated on the basis of gender. There has also been a Border Security Force camp which was last documented to be in use in 2005. Earlier, the West Bengal government had also agreed to build new detention centres at New Town and Bongaon but these plans have been halted recently.

Bihar:

Bihar has a military camp, which according to the sources of Global Detention Project, that houses unauthorized immigrants. It was at least in use until 2005.

Karnataka:

Under the Model Detention Manual 2019, Karnataka has opened its first detention centre at Nelamangala Taluk, Banglore which will be administered by the state Social Welfare Department.

Maharashtra:

Under the Model Detention Manual 2019, Maharashtra was to set up its first detention centre in Nerul, Navi Mumbai which was an erstwhile women’s shelter home run by the local police station. But since the change of the state government and the clash between Shiv Sena and Bharatiya Janata Party, the plans have been put on halt.

Uttar Pradesh:

Uttar Pradesh was supposed to have its first detention centre in Ghaziabad’s Nandgram at an erstwhile SC/ST hostel whose plans were cancelled after protests. Since the state government is ruled by the same party in power in the central government, it is very likely that another location will be soon selected for starting a detention centre in the state.

Usually, when one files an RTI application with the Ministry of Home Affairs (Foreigners Division) to find out details about these detention centres in the country, the Central Public Information Officer responds that this information is not centrally maintained. In many cases of RTI application, a copy of the RTI application is transferred to the Central Public Information Officer of the Bureau of Immigration for providing any details they have. However, the Bureau of Immigration responds and has a precedent of responding that they are exempted from the Second Schedule of the RTI Act, 2005 as a body from providing information that has the importance of national security. There is hardly any legal provision available to know more about these detention centres since the central government has the power to regulate access to the places in India where internees or persons on parole are detained or restricted under Section 4(4) of the Foreigners Act, 1946. This was confirmed by a personal RTI that I had made and keeping a track of the results of other similar RTIs.

Under UNHCR guidelines, detention cannot be used arbitrarily, and any decision to detain must be based on an assessment of the individual’s particular circumstances. This is hardly followed by authorities in India and routine flouting of due process is commonplace. Secondly, according to UNHCR guideline 4.3, detention can be used to protect public order, public health, and national security. However, as is clear from Indian state’s official narrative premised on securitization, almost all unauthorized and undocumented immigration constitutes “infiltration” and the polititicians consistently have called it a threat to India’s national security which can be used to justify indefinite detention for foreigners, particularly for those coming from Bengali or Bangladeshi backgrounds.

All of this proves the absolute lack of transparency in the matter of immigration detention centres in India. While harrowing tales are common in case of American immigration system or European Union’s gated community with regards to immigrants, there is little knowledge of countries in the Global South, including India. Such lack of transparency only adds to this effect where the public due to its lack of information fails to make a significant intervention in the question of justice and due process when it pertains to immigrants.

Aper Ali or Afer Ali: The Foreigners Tribunal and ‘Inconsistencies’

This is a guest post by Douglas McDonald-Norman. Douglas McDonald-Norman is a barrister in Sydney, Australia. He predominantly practices in migration and administrative law. He also writes for Law and Other Things.

In their report Designed to Exclude, Amnesty International have recorded the experiences of a man named Abu Bakkar Siddiqui. In 2016, he appeared before a Foreigners Tribunal in Jorhat, Assam.

In his deposition, Abu Bakkar said that his grandfather’s name was Aper Ali Sheikh. To prove that his ancestors had been in India before 1971, Abu Bakkar submitted 1966 and 1970 voter lists – in which the name of his grandfather was written as ‘Afer Ali Sheikh’.

The Tribunal found that Abu Bakkar could not prove that his grandfather Aper Ali Sheikh had ever existed. It rejected his explanation that Aper Ali Sheikh and Afer Ali Sheikh were the same person, saying that this explanation had been made ‘too late in the day’. His attempt to seek review in the Gauhati High Court was dismissed.

This is absurd. But it is not an isolated or uncommon incident. As Amnesty International have reported, in many cases Foreigners Tribunals have rejected applicants’ claims to be who they say they are, or have rejected their accounts of their lives and the lives of their families, based on minor or easily explicable inconsistencies – spelling, dates, typographical errors.

These practices have international parallels. Around the world, courts and tribunals engaged in ‘refugee status determination’ (that is, the process of working out if asylum seekers are entitled to protection as refugees) have frequently relied on ‘inconsistencies’ of these kinds to find that asylum seekers are not telling the truth about who they are or why they claim to fear harm if returned to their countries of origin. Some of these inconsistencies may be explained by fear, shame or inevitable loss of detailed recollection over time (or because of trauma). Other inconsistencies (particularly in documents) may be explained by the context from which an asylum seeker has fled; bureaucracies in their country of origin may have flawed record-keeping practices, or the asylum seeker may not be able to access any corroborative documents because those documents are held by precisely the people they fear will persecute them.

In Foreigners Tribunals, as in refugee status determination, we see decisions being made based upon dubious, harsh or even absurd reasoning, particularly in relation to inconsistencies or errors in applicants’ narratives or documents. How can we use legal frameworks, advocacy and review to challenge these practices?

People stripped of nationality by Foreigners Tribunals can seek review in the Gauhati High Court or the Supreme Court of India. But this review is on limited terms. As the Gauhati High Court explained in State of Assam v Moslem Mondal, a petitioner seeking writs of certiorari to quash a decision of the Foreigners Tribunal must establish that the Tribunal’s decision is affected by jurisdictional error.

The High Court’s judgment in Moslem Mondal takes the concept of ‘jurisdictional error’ further than that in some other common law nations. Justice B. P. Katakey noted that jurisdictional error may arise where reasons for a given exercise of power are ‘inconsistent, unintelligible or inadequate’, in addition to the standard, more orthodox grounds of jurisdictional error – ‘application of a wrong legal test to the facts found, taking irrelevant consideration into account and failing to take relevant consideration into account, and wrongful admission or exclusion of evidence as well as arriving at a conclusion without any supporting evidence’. But the relevant test in the Gauhati High Court is still a question of legal error – mere unfairness or harshness do not suffice, and it is not enough that the Court could (or even would) have made a different decision if it were sitting in the place of the original decision-maker.

How, then, can we challenge the use of trivial or absurd inconsistencies within this framework of jurisdictional error?

In Australia, judicial review of migration decisions is only available where the purported decision is affected by jurisdictional error (that is, that it is beyond the power of the agency which purportedly made the decision). Jurisdictional error may arise on equivalent or similar grounds to those identified by Justice Katakey – for example, failure to consider relevant considerations, findings based on no evidence or misapplication of a relevant legal test. Equivalent to India’s basis for review of ‘inconsistent, unintelligible or inadequate’ reasoning, decisions in Australia may be challenged because they rely on unreasonable, illogical or irrational findings – but this is a high threshold to clear. It requires more than merely establishing that a different finding could have been made; it must be established that the finding, or the exercise of power, is one which no reasonable decision-maker could have made.

But in Australia, we can see examples by which arbitrary or harsh decision-making practices can be restrained through the creative use of traditional grounds of judicial review. Where, for example, a decision-maker relies on ‘unwarranted assumptions… as to matters relevant to the formation of a view on the credibility of a corroborative witness, the decision-maker may constructively fail to consider relevant considerations arising from the material before it (There are parallels, in this regard, with reasoning in Moslem Mondal itself – in which Justice Katakey found that in one of the decisions challenged ‘[t]he learned Tribunal did not appreciate the evidence on record in its proper perspective, thereby refusing to take into consideration the relevant piece of evidence’). Similar reliance on ‘unwarranted assumptions’ may mean that the decision is illogical or irrational, or that a decision-maker has made findings with no basis in the evidence before it.

The ‘unwarranted assumptions’ argument is not a new basis for judicial review or jurisdictional error. It is merely a different way of understanding and applying traditional grounds – failure to have regard to relevant considerations, making findings on the basis of no evidence, and ‘unreasonableness’.

Advocates and activists working to reform the Foreigners Tribunal can similarly reshape traditional grounds of judicial review to restrain abuses of the Tribunals’ fact-finding function, even with the limited tools left available to them by Moslem Mondal. When a Tribunal relies upon an absurd or exceptionally minor inconsistency (like a typographical error on a document), even the traditional grounds of judicial review may permit the Court to question whether there is a logical or probative basis for any adverse finding made as a result, or to question whether an ‘unfounded assumption’ that the document would invariably have been accurate as transcribed prevented the Tribunal from properly having regard to the evidence before it. When a Tribunal relies on a difference between general and specific accounts of the same thing, the Court may question whether the Tribunal’s misunderstanding or mischaracterisation of the evidence has led to a constructive failure to consider that evidence, or a failure to consider necessary questions arising from that evidence. These may seem like frail instruments to reform broader abusive or unjust practices by the Foreigners Tribunals, and may seem entirely inadequate to address the fundamental injustice at the heart of that system. But, over time, these grounds of review can be used to set clear limits on how the Tribunals function and how they make decisions. These limits to the fact-finding powers of the Tribunals can protect vulnerable individuals from abusive and arbitrary exercises of power.

The Rise of the Indian Detention Regime

This is the first in a three-part series of guest posts by Paresh Hate. Paresh Hate is a PhD candidate at Centre for Comparative Politics and Political Theory, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Their work revolves around critically engaging with the discourse of ‘Bangladeshi infiltrator’ in Indian politics by looking at immigration detention and immigration law as sites of its cultivation, deployment and legitimization. Paresh is the digital editor for Migrant Solidarity Network – India and is a founding member of Hasratein: a queer collective, LGBTQIA+ resource group and political organisation based in New Delhi, India.

After the news of the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam was published in 2019 and the proposal for an all-India National Register of Citizens by the Home Minister of India was announced, detention centres had finally become a part of the resistant imaginary of civil society groups and activist circles. Until then, this sensitization and recognition was limited to groups in Assam fighting for the civil liberties of people languishing in the detention centres for prolonged periods and some organisations in other metropolitan areas trying to produce data on it. With the passing of Citizenship (Amendment) Act, 2019 and the promise of NRC, there were widespread protests across India that foregrounded the demand that detention centres must go.

While the ruling party and the opposition have continued their debates about the who and when of detention centres, much misinformation has been spread. There is now substantial information in the public domain with regard to the six detention centres in Assam. This is because of the report on the National Human Rights Commission Mission to Assam’s Detention Centres, carried out by Harsh Mander and others, which was subsequently also submitted as a petition in the Supreme Court to ameliorate the conditions of detention centres there. However, neither is immigration detention exclusive to the current fascist government employing it in some extra-judicial realm, nor are the detention centres only operational in Assam. Detention, as a strategy to govern unauthorized migrants, goes to the heart of our immigration law system and has been in place for decades.

Notwithstanding the fact that the first de facto detention centres were built in the state of Assam under High Court’s orders of 2008 for detaining declared foreigners, many confinement centres for immigrants preceded this time period. Some or the other form of such confinement centres for unauthorized migrants has been in place since at least mid-2000s and have been employed for both punitive and non-punitive purposes.

In countries of the Global South such as India, the criminalisation of irregular migration as a measure, like its other politico-legal institutions, is undoubtedly and obviously enmeshed in a history of colonialism and power that goes beyond a simplistic framing of rule of law. There are two distinct points about the trajectory of immigration control that demonstrate its relation with modern colonial history. The first is that the techniques of law that India currently employs have been cultivated during British colonialism in India itself. This is true for three of the four major acts that constitute immigration law in India. These are the Passport (Entry into India) Act (1920), the Registration of Foreigners Act (1939), and the Foreigners Act (1946). All three of them have been argued as “acts of Empire” whose original function was to regulate the migration of colonised subjects across the various colonies and Dominions and thereby restrict their ability to migrate into privileged geographies of the colonising powers.

The second point about regulation of migration is tied to post-World War 2 period and subsequent globalization, where cultures of penalty such as immigration detention travelled like other things across the world. What is now clear is that the inception of detention took place primarily during the late 19th century in the United States. Contemporary scholars are today certain that the creation of modern immigration detention begins with the normalization of regulated borders in America and the United Kingdom. Prior to this, the routine method to deal with foreigners were preventive exclusions through often racist laws that disallowed people from certain racialized communities and nations to enter the country. In cases where such foreigners were found to be residing in the nation without adequate documents, they would be expelled through measures such as deportation or push-back. The establishment of the border as a site of political control grew alongside both centralization and monopolization of power over mobility. In the late 19th century, immigrant detention was used for the first time as a legal exception treated as a temporary administrative check-point until the final decision regarding the fate of the immigrant foreigner was made. Over time, with the growing number of immigrants in the United States, detention started acting as an administrative strategy deployed for longer periods, often against racialized migrants until it became a common response during World War 1 to treat foreigners fleeing their country and foreigner soldiers. This later conflation was much more prevalent in the United Kingdom where anti-alien sentiment demanded substantive politico-legal moves to create some system to permanently control foreigners. Until then, immigration detention used was neither seen as penal nor as any form of imprisonment. Since World War 2, however, immigration detention across most countries has become a legislative policy and a permanent bureaucratic enterprise.

This period where immigration control and defining citizenship became of paramount importance was the period in which many erstwhile colonies were transitioning into sovereign nation-states. Both in Asian and African countries, but also in erstwhile colonizing metropoles which were becoming proper nation-states now, the question of the self and the other of the political community was essential and urgent. Yet, the political logic that was inherent to many of these decolonizing movements prioritized autochthony, which is to say that the original inhabitants of the land who were the natives of that region had the right to self-determine its own political future. This kind of political context necessitated, as it still does, differentiating between a foreigner and a citizen.

In Global South countries such as India, because of the political and economic conditions, this has meant the focus is on the informal movement of low-wage migrants across spatially contiguous states and within the region which is particularly vigilant–due to the suspicion generated by the history of partition–of Muslims from the neighbouring countries (particularly erstwhile East Pakistan and now Bangladesh), who are treated as “infiltrators” as far as popular psyche, dominant nationalist political ideologies, and state institutions are concerned.

One year before the independence, laws were put in place to decide the conditions under which a movement is legitimate. After the independence, the connotations of British rule were dropped while keeping the entire law as it is. With the Foreigners Act, 1946 enacted, there were provisions for punitive measures to employ in case of transgressors to this law and this penalty included detention also. The politico-legal powers of the state that legitimized detention centres are authorized under the Foreigners Act, 1946, and the Foreigners Order, 1948. Section 3(2)(e) of the Foreigners Act, 1946 states that the foreigner:

“[S]hall comply with such conditions as may be prescribed or specified— (i) requiring him to reside in a particular place; (ii) imposing any restrictions on his movements;”

In addition to this, para 11(2) of The Foreigners Order, 1948 allows the civil authority to impose restrictions on the foreigners’ movement.

While until the early 21st century, detention centres have meant makeshift spaces which are otherwise typical prisons, there has been a rise of many sites since early 2000s which are used as functional detention centres, managed by Border Security Force stations, shelter homes looked after by state governments, Foreigners Regional Registration Office sites, etc. What the criminalisation of irregular migration and use of detention as a punitive strategy since the inception of immigration law shows is that nowhere in the last hundred years at least have the detention centres been used simply as temporary administrative check-points, but instead have been an integral part of the criminal immigration (or crimmigration) system. Here, detention centres are spaces that thwart mobility and control the perceived “excessive mobility” of the unauthorized migrants by responding with total confinement and putting a stop to their movement itself.

Today as well, migrants who have been detained for immigration-related transgressions face severe legal adversities and their troubles have only increased after the NRC has been announced. With the regime in power attempting to build more detention centres qua detention centres across the country for “illegal infiltrators”, and with a relative absence of proper repatriation treaties with  neighbouring countries, the Indian immigration system is perhaps most likely to deal with migrant foreigners, among others, with detention as one of the preferred modes of penalty. While detention centres began in India as instruments peripheral to immigration control, they have now, under the current regime, transformed into a bureaucratic enterprise that is central to the state apparatus’ program of governance over Bengali-speaking, Muslim and migrant populations, and will give rise to a new detention regime that will be initiated now with the project of NRC.