By Colonel Satish Singh Lalotra (Retd)
There are places one visits as a tourist, and then there are places that become a part of one’s life. Mechuka is the latter, for the simple reason that such faraway destinations gets singed in the mental firmament owing to one’s association forged by getting posted there while in service. Their uniqueness in matters of their fringe existence, yet remaining centre-stage in catching the national attention, is their USP. I first knew Mechuka not as a picturesque Himalayan destination that tourists flock to today, but as a remote and strategically vital frontier post.
In 1995, I was posted there as a company commander with the SFF (Special Frontier Force). Mechuka was then an air-maintained post, isolated by some of the most formidable terrain in the eastern Himalayas. Roads were virtually non-existent for operational purposes and logistics depended heavily upon the skies remaining favourable for air maintenance. Life in the early 1990s over there was austere and distances were calculated in terms of days/nights walking from place to place. The place meant uncertainty in every walk of life stretching from communication, medical help, rations and what you call leading a normalized way of existence. Every supply drop from the helicopters, movement and such like issues had to contend with the mountains. Three decades later, the transformation is extraordinary. The Mechuka I knew has become one of Arunachal Pradesh’s emerging tourist destinations. Roads have brought it closer to the rest of India. Tourism has brought new economic opportunities. Homestays, vehicles, communications and infra have changed the character of the valley like never before. But beneath this transformation lies a deeper story—one that has little to do with tourism and everything to do with India’s frontier security.
From an air maintained post to a tourist destination
Mechuka also known as Menchuka, lies in the ‘Shi-Yomi’ district of Arunachal Pradesh close to India’s international boundary with China. Surrounded by towering mountains and traversed by the Siyom River, it possesses an extraordinary natural and cultural landscape. The state government had identified its tourism potential years ago and accordingly a tourism plan prepared in the early 2000s described Mechuka as a remote settlement dependent upon air supply and highlighted its potential as a tourist destination. Today that vision is becoming a reality. For those of us who knew Mechuka in its earlier avatar, this is immensely satisfying. The road reaching a place once dependent upon air–maintenance is not merely an infrastructure achievement, but represents the gradual transformation of an isolated frontier into an integral part of the national mainstream. It is no wonder that the present ruling dispensation in Delhi has gone into overdrive for the last few years and kick-started the famous VVV/VVP (Viksit Vibrant Vvillage/ Vibrant Village Programme) starting from Walong; the easternmost town of India bordering China & Myanmar. And that has enormous strategic significance. A road is not merely a road in a border area. A school is not merely a centre of education abutting the national boundaries. A mobile tower is not merely a means of communication for the border people. Together they represent civilian permanence, economic activity and national presence the like of which this nation hadn’t been witness to despite mouthing of platitudes by the leaders of India for many years.
The frontier is not only defended; it must be inhabited
The more civilians live, work and travel in border areas, the stronger the stamp of the country’s hold and governance. This is truer particularly in Arunachal Pradesh, where China continues to make territorial claims over the entire state. Beijing refers it to as ‘Zangan’ or southern Tibet and has repeatedly attempted to reinforce its claim through maps, official statements, and most significantly the renaming of places. And this is where Mechuka acquires significance far greater than its tourism potential.
China’s War of Names
China has repeatedly announced lists of what it calls ‘standardised names of places in Arunachal Pradesh. This exercise began in 2017 and has continued through subsequent lists unabated. The names have been given to the geographical features that abound India’s easternmost state with rivers, lakes, mountains, villages and so on. Mechuka itself was included in China’s first such list / exercise and given the name ‘Mainquka’. At first glance, this may appear absurd. And readers of this write up may ask—‘How can changing a name, change sovereignty of an established state? Well, names create narratives, and narratives create familiarity. Familiarity if allowed to persist unchallenged can eventually create perceptions of legitimacy. China understands the power of cartography and nomenclature. Its strategy is not confined to the physical realm of territory alone, but rather extends to establish a parallel geographical vocabulary, so as to obfuscate the real lexicon as it exists in Arunachal Pradesh and present to the world its own twisted logic of Geo-political machinations. Such exercises if done repeatedly are bound to influence international discourse and future may be imperiled for both Arunachal Pradesh as well as India.
The Mechuka I Remember
I sometimes wonder what the Mechuka of 1995 would make of today’s Mechuka? The mountains remain, the snow remains, and the Siyom still flows through the valley. But the landscape around them has changed. Where there was once isolation, there is connectivity, where logistics depended heavily upon air maintenance, roads now provide an increasingly important lifeline. Where the military presence was the dominant expression of India’s engagement to keep the sanctity of McMohan line intact, civilian activity is beginning to add another powerful dimension. Where once our eyes used to be fixated towards the ‘Jamchen Ridge’ to spot and hear the thud-thud voice of the MI-17 hepters (proverbial life line to cross over to Mechuka), now there are routine sorties of fixed wing aircraft as well as humming of vehicles plying on the road to alleviate the sufferings of this remote NE corner of India. A road to Mechuka is also a road into the national consciousness.
The frontier must never become invisible
Today, when I hear news of tourists reaching Mechuka by road, I see much more than tourism. I see the gradual closing of that invisible psychological gap between the border populace of our NE with that of the mainstream India. But I also see a warning. While India is building infra on the double quick and opening its hitherto NE frontier to its citizens, we ought to be wary of our northern neighbour. China may rename Mechuka, it cannot rename India’s history. It cannot erase the memory of those who stood there when there were no roads, no tourists, no highways, and barely a semblance to reach the McMohan line. India’s writ starts not from its national capital Delhi, but from such obscure places that have been branded into the national psyche for standing guard despite being ignored for major part of their existence; and now have been given due regard after decades of pusillanimity by way of VVP (Vibrant village Programme).
(The author is a retired gunner officer from the regiment of artillery. Was commissioned in June 1985 from IMA Dehradun and is the 4th generation from his family in the armed forces and belongs to Jammu. Has served in various units of artillery and commanded troops in Gurez valley in 2003/04. Has served as well on the highest battlefield in the world (Siachen Glacier) way back in 1995. Retired in 2017, settled in Pune and took to the pen thereafter. Has written 4 books till date. He is also a regular scribe of Rising Kashmir paper which gets published from Srinagar (J&K) plus writes for Daily Excelsior of Jammu too.)
