Editor,
Our chief minister, when recently questioned on the 80:20 job recruitment ratio, reminded us that “Arunachal is a part of India.” While no one disputes our state’s place in the union, this response carries a stinging implication: that protecting the livelihoods of indigenous youths is somehow at odds with being Indian. As a young person from the generation that actually sits for these exams, I must ask: Since when did our survival as indigenous people become a ‘patriotism tax’ we must pay to prove a loyalty that is already in our blood?
Why should the youths of Arunachal be the only ones in the Northeast to pay this price? In states like Mizoram and Nagaland, 100% reservation for indigenous populations is the norm, and their ‘Indian-ness’ is never questioned. Just this week, on 17 February, 2026, the Mizoram Public Service Commission (MPSC) proved how seriously they guard this right. They revised their civil services results to revoke the selection of a candidate from Manipur who was ranked 13th, replacing him with a local candidate from Aizawl, because he was ‘technically ineligible’ due to domicile requirements. If our neighbours can protect their children’s future with such iron resolve, why is our leadership so eager to give ours away?
The CM’s stance is a luxury of the elite. For crorepatis political families in Arunachal Pradesh, these Group B and C posts are irrelevant, but for a student from a rural village or a middle-class home, that one seat is the difference between a life of dignity and a slow descent into poverty. Our leaders are financially secured for a hundred years; they will never know the quiet, crushing heartbreak of a student losing a seat by 0.5 marks to a non-resident. How can a CM who has never had to worry about a monthly salary understand the desperation of a father who sold his last plot of ancestral land just to pay for his daughter’s college fees? We are being told to ‘integrate’ by staying hungry while the elite feast on state resources.
The math behind this ‘patriotism tax’ is a betrayal. A recent written parliamentary reply revealed that across all of India, Scheduled tribes hold a mere 1.2% of IAS and 1.54% of IPS positions. If the entire tribal population of India holds barely 1% of the power, where does the indigenous Arunachalee stand? We are likely a ghost in the data, a decimal point close to zero. We are being told to keep 20% of our small, hungry plate ‘open’ for the rest of the nation, while the national door is bolted shut against us. We are feeding the world while our own children go hungry. If, as the CM says, Arunachal being part of India proves it is Indian by giving up 20% of its local jobs, but the national system in theory only reserves a 7.5% ST representation (of which only a tiny fraction is APST), the trade-off is mathematically a losing deal for the state’s youths. Further, the argument that ‘Arunachalees can compete elsewhere’ falls apart when you look at these numbers. An APST student has a theoretical 100% right to compete for a general seat in all-India exams, say UPSC CSE, but the socioeconomic reality and the sheer scale of competition make that right practically non-existent. How many Arunachalees have cleared UPSC CSE in the past two decades?
The irony is suffocating. While we are told to be ‘Indian’ by sharing our jobs, the internal economy of Arunachal is being captured by the elites. Contract works are cornered by political cronies; beneficiary lists for schemes like the DDUSY are often ‘pre-decided’ in the drawing rooms of bureaucrats and politicians. From rigged tenders to unionism, the ‘aspirational poor’ are being squeezed out of every economic opportunity.
Most importantly, the government cannot hide behind constitutional constraints. Under Article 16(3) of the Indian Constitution, the power to make residence (domicile) a requirement for recruitment lies with the Parliament. We are told to believe in the ‘double engine’ sarkar – a BJP government in Itanagar and a BJP government in Delhi. If these two engines are truly aligned, why haven’t they used this constitutional provision to protect Arunachal’s jobs? Why is the ‘double engine’ only used for political convenience during elections and not to secure the future of the aspirational poor?
Even the Taba Tedir Committee report, which was meant to solve this very crisis, remains suppressed. The committee was tasked to examine making PRC mandatory for recruitment, and the report was submitted years ago. Why is it being kept in the dark? We demand that the government stop ‘studying’ our lives and make the report public immediately. Transparency is not a favour; it is our right.
We are indeed Indians, but we refuse to be the only state in the Northeast that sacrifices its children’s future to appease a political narrative. A leadership that is insulated by wealth must stop gambling with the tomorrow of a student who has nothing but a pen and a dream. A leader who cannot feel the hunger of his own people should not be surprised when that hunger turns into a storm. It is time to scrap the 80:20 ratio and make PRC and ST certificates the mandatory armour for every local aspirant.
Aspirational poor