Why Arunachal Pradesh’s Anti-Dam Movement Is Rising Again

Neha Desai, KalimNews, September 22, 2026, Itanagar : The renewed protests against the Siang Upper Multipurpose Project are being driven by more than environmental concerns. They reflect a deeper conflict over land, indigenous institutions, risk, development priorities and who should have a say in deciding the future of Arunachal Pradesh’s rivers.

The renewed protests against large hydropower projects in Arunachal Pradesh, particularly the proposed 11,000-MW Siang Upper Multipurpose Project (SUMP), are rooted in a combination of environmental concerns, indigenous land issues, distrust over consultation and the sheer scale of the state’s planned hydropower expansion. The immediate trigger has been the resumption or continuation of pre-feasibility surveys and drilling associated with the Siang project. In September 2026, local communities protested against survey activities, while a state human-rights organisation called for the surveys and drilling to be halted until greater consultation takes place.

But the renewed agitation cannot be understood simply as opposition to one dam. It comes at a time when Arunachal Pradesh is being positioned as one of India’s most important future hydropower regions. The state government has declared 2025–2035 the “Decade of Hydropower” and is targeting nearly 19,165 MW from 33 upcoming projects, against an estimated state potential of more than 50,000 MW.

That contrast—between a major planned expansion of hydropower and renewed resistance from affected communities—explains much of the current tension.

The first underlying cause is the scale and concentration of proposed hydropower development. Arunachal Pradesh is estimated to possess more than 50,000 MW of hydropower potential. The Central Electricity Authority’s broader Brahmaputra-basin planning has identified 208 large hydropower projects across 12 sub-basins, with 64.9 GW of conventional hydropower and another 11.1 GW of pumped-storage potential. Arunachal Pradesh alone accounts for about 52.2 GW in that assessment.

For policymakers, these figures represent a significant economic and energy opportunity.

For communities living along the rivers, however, they suggest something different: the possibility that multiple valleys could be transformed by dams, roads, tunnels, transmission lines and associated construction over an extended period.

This is why the argument has increasingly shifted from “Should one dam be built?” to “How much hydropower development can a Himalayan river basin absorb?”

That distinction is important. A single project may pass an environmental assessment on its own terms, while the cumulative consequences of several projects—changes in river flows, sediment movement, forests, wildlife corridors and settlement patterns—could be considerably greater.

The SUMP has become particularly contentious because of its proposed scale.

The project has been described in recent reporting as an 11,000-MW proposal, while some local reports and public campaigns have used different capacity figures as project details have evolved. The precise configuration and capacity therefore remain important matters for the project's formal appraisal process.

The project has nevertheless acquired symbolic importance beyond its generating capacity.

A March 2026 research brief from Shiv Nadar University documented how Adi communities have mobilised traditional institutions and customary forms of collective decision-making in response to the project. In August 2025, hundreds of Adi villagers from four districts reportedly participated in a Bogung Bokang Kebang at Geku, using a traditional deliberative institution to discuss the proposed dam. This is significant because it shows that the opposition is not simply being organised through conventional environmental NGOs. Local customary institutions have also become part of the political mechanism through which communities debate the project.

For affected communities, the central issue is not necessarily electricity generation. It is what happens to the land and river system on which their communities depend.

Reports by organisations supporting the protests have warned of displacement and loss of agricultural and ancestral land. One advocacy group has estimated that at least 27 villages could be affected by the proposed Siang dam, although the precise number of affected settlements will depend on the final project design and authoritative impact assessments.

The significance of displacement in Arunachal Pradesh cannot be measured solely in terms of the number of houses or hectares submerged. Land can simultaneously constitute agricultural and forest-based livelihood; ancestral territory; the basis of village institutions; access to hunting, fishing and gathering resources; sites of cultural and spiritual significance; and part of a community’s historical identity. Consequently, financial compensation may address only one part of the potential loss. This helps explain why some communities have resisted the project even when development packages and compensation are offered or discussed.

The second major cause of renewed protests is trust. The dispute has increasingly focused on whether affected communities have been adequately consulted before surveys and other preliminary activities take place.

The state government itself has recognised the sensitivity of the issue. In July 2026, Chief Minister Pema Khandu said the government would not rush the Siang project's pre-feasibility study and would seek to address concerns of families likely to be affected before moving forward. That statement is significant because it acknowledges that the project faces a social as well as technical challenge. For opponents, however, the continuation of survey and drilling activities has reinforced concerns that preliminary work is advancing faster than the process of building community agreement.

The September 2026 protests illustrate the resulting contradiction: the government may regard surveys as preliminary technical work, while affected communities may interpret the same activities as evidence that a fundamental decision has already been made. That difference in perception can turn a technical survey into a political confrontation.

Environmental concerns form the third pillar of the movement.

Arunachal Pradesh lies within the seismically active Eastern Himalaya and contains steep slopes, high-rainfall catchments, extensive forests and complex geological formations. These conditions do not automatically make hydropower development impossible, but they increase the importance of project-specific geological, seismic and climate assessments. The concern is particularly acute when a project involves large dams and extensive tunnelling and road construction.

Opponents also point to the wider experience of Himalayan infrastructure disasters. International Rivers, for example, cited the 2023 Teesta III disaster in Sikkim in its discussion of opposition to the Siang project. Such events do not prove that the Siang project would experience a comparable failure, but they have contributed to a wider public debate about infrastructure risk in the Himalaya.

The environmental argument therefore has two dimensions. The first concerns ordinary ecological impacts: forests, biodiversity, river flows, sediment and fisheries.

The second concerns low-probability but potentially high-consequence hazards: earthquakes, landslides, extreme floods and cascading failures.

Communities living immediately downstream have an obvious reason to give greater weight to the second category of risk than a distant electricity consumer might.

The Himalayan environment is also becoming harder to predict.

Changing precipitation patterns, extreme rainfall and glacial and high-altitude hazards complicate assumptions traditionally used in infrastructure planning. This does not mean that climate change makes every dam unsafe. Rather, it means that historical hydrological records may not be sufficient by themselves to characterise future extremes.

For a project intended to operate for many decades, opponents therefore want climate projections and disaster scenarios to be incorporated into planning from the beginning. This is particularly relevant in a region where a single extreme event can trigger landslides, debris flows or sudden changes in river conditions.

The renewed protests also have a historical dimension.

Arunachal Pradesh has experienced opposition to major dams for many years. The Lower Subansiri project, for example, became the focus of prolonged controversy over construction, safety, downstream impacts and environmental concerns.

Consequently, today's activists and communities are not approaching hydropower development without historical reference points.

Past controversies have created an institutional memory: promises of development are evaluated against previous experiences with land acquisition, construction disruptions, environmental assessment and rehabilitation.

This helps explain why even preliminary work can generate opposition before construction actually begins.

Electricity generated in a remote Himalayan valley can enter a regional or national grid, while the immediate environmental costs—submerged land, altered rivers, construction impacts and disaster exposure—remain concentrated locally. This creates what economists and environmental researchers often describe as a distributional problem. If the costs are geographically concentrated while benefits are widely distributed, opposition can remain strong even when the project produces substantial national economic benefits.

Another important change is the growing ability of local organisations to connect environmental concerns with indigenous rights and customary governance. The Siang movement now involves farmers' groups, customary institutions, civil-society organisations and rights groups. The Shiv Nadar University research describes how Adi communities have drawn upon traditional governance systems to organise collective resistance. This has given the movement a broader political vocabulary.

It is no longer simply: “Do not build a dam.” It increasingly encompasses questions such as: Who owns or controls ancestral land? Who has the authority to approve major changes to a river? What constitutes meaningful consent? How should indigenous customary institutions participate? What level of environmental risk is acceptable? How should project benefits be shared? Should strategic considerations override local objections?

That broader framing helps explain the durability of the movement.

The present protests are therefore the product of several pressures converging simultaneously. First, hydropower development is expanding rapidly. The state's “Decade of Hydropower” signals a long-term commitment to the sector. Second, the stakes are high. Third, communities have become increasingly concerned that preliminary surveys could precede meaningful agreement. Fourth, environmental concerns have expanded from local forest loss to questions about cumulative basin-level impacts and climate-related hazards. Fifth, indigenous organisations increasingly view the issue through the framework of customary authority and self-determination. Sixth, India's strategic concerns regarding Chinese upstream dam development add urgency to the government's position, but may simultaneously increase local apprehension that strategic imperatives could accelerate the project.

The result is a conflict between national-scale planning and local-scale concerns over risk, land and participation.

The immediate challenge is not necessarily to settle the larger question of whether Arunachal Pradesh should develop hydropower. It is to restore credibility to the decision-making process.

Rather than examining projects one by one, authorities could assess the cumulative consequences of multiple dams within individual river basins.

Technical studies, geological assessments, downstream inundation modelling, rehabilitation plans and project alternatives should be made accessible to affected communities.

Customary institutions and affected villages should have a formal role in consultations rather than being treated solely as recipients of information.

Given the region's geological setting, independent experts should scrutinise seismic, landslide, flood and dam-break scenarios.

If projects proceed, local communities could seek clearer mechanisms linking electricity development with local infrastructure, employment, education, health services and long-term revenue-sharing.

Large dams should be evaluated against other options—including smaller projects where appropriate, solar generation, grid improvements and energy-storage technologies—rather than being treated as the default solution to every future energy requirement.

The renewed anti-dam movement is ultimately about more than hydropower.

It reflects a broader transformation in the relationship between the state and indigenous communities in Arunachal Pradesh. Communities increasingly want to participate not merely in the distribution of development benefits but in defining what development should look like in their own territories.

That is why the protests have persisted despite the economic and strategic arguments supporting hydropower. The government's challenge is equally significant. Arunachal Pradesh's rivers offer an enormous energy resource at a time when India is seeking additional renewable generation and greater strategic resilience along its northeastern frontier. Abandoning that potential altogether would have substantial economic and strategic implications.

But treating local resistance simply as an obstacle could deepen distrust. The central issue is therefore not simply dams versus no dams. It is whether a model of hydropower development can be constructed that simultaneously addresses geological risk, ecological limits, indigenous land and cultural concerns, fair benefit-sharing and genuine public participation.

The September 2026 protests show that this question remains unresolved.

The future of hydropower in Arunachal Pradesh may ultimately depend less on how much of the state's theoretical 50,000-plus-MW potential can be developed than on whether communities can be assured that decisions affecting their rivers and ancestral lands are being made transparently, scientifically and with their meaningful participation.

Writer Neha Desai, who graduated from Jawaharlal Nehru University and is based in Arunachal Pradesh, is an independent writer dedicated to social research. She focuses primarily on issues concerning society, religion, ethnicity and women.