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Why We Formed the UPDF


Sachib Chakma
Member, Central Committee, UPDF


To be honest, before the Chittagong Hill Tracts Accord, none of us ever imagined that we would have to form a new political party. By “we,” I mean UPDF members who, before the Accord, were involved in three hill organizations—the Hill Students’ Council (PCP), the Hill People’s Council (PGP), and the Hill Women’s Federation (HWF)—and who sought autonomy through democratic means.

At that time, these three mass organizations maintained good relations with the JSS, even though they were not affiliated organizations of the JSS. Through the course of the movement, an understanding had developed between the JSS leadership and the leadership of the three organizations. Therefore, we believed that, in the process of a democratic movement, we would eventually have to join the JSS. We took this as self-evident. I never personally entertained the idea of forming a new party, nor did I ever receive even the slightest hint from any of my comrades that such a thought existed.

The relationship between the three organizations and the JSS leadership first began to deteriorate when, on 15 June 1995, at a rally in Dhudukchara of Panchari, Santu Larma criticized the methods and programs of the three organizations and said, “Autonomy cannot be established by shooting slingshots or by carrying out militant movements.” His statement struck us like a thunderbolt and was completely unexpected. Just days earlier, Prasit Khisha and Rabi Shankar Chakma (currently the president and general secretary of the UPDF, respectively) had met Santu Larma in Patachara village in Tripura, India, and had briefed him on the programs the three organizations planned to undertake. At that time, Santu Larma had expressed his support, saying, “A thik age daw” (“Everything seems fine”). Yet only a few days later, he completely changed his tone.

Why Santu Larma suddenly performed this somersault, and why he opposed or criticized the action programs of the three organizations, was incomprehensible to us. To this day, he has provided no explanation.

It is worth noting that he made this controversial statement after returning from a meeting with a government delegation led by Oli Ahmed. He made the remark immediately after getting down from a helicopter, addressing the waiting crowd. An analysis of subsequent events suggests that Santu Larma may have conspired with Oli Ahmed to prevent the leadership of the three organizations from emerging as an alternative to him. His Dhudukchara statement was a green signal to the government. A few months after this “slingshot” remark, military intelligence formed the “Masked Force” in Khagrachari (officially named the “PCP–PGP Terror Prevention Committee,” or PPSPC). Through these masked men, the army attempted to suppress the movement by killing, abducting, and torturing leaders and activists of the three organizations. It was a terrifying time, the details of which cannot be fully discussed here. However, it is not irrelevant to mention that despite such severe repression by the masked forces, the JSS leadership did not even issue a single statement condemning these actions.

Returning to the main point: relations between the JSS and the three organizations continued to worsen. There were several additional reasons for this. JSS leader Santu Larma held meetings with leaders and activists of the PGP, PCP, and HWF, inciting them against Prasit Khisha and attempting to create alternative leadership—in other words, initiating a conspiracy to divide the three organizations.

Here I should mention that around June or July 1997, I went to Patachara with JSS member Khitish Chakma to meet Santu Larma. In a tone of complaint, Santu Larma told me that a parallel leadership was being created outside the JSS. I was completely shocked to hear this, because there had never been any such thought, discussion, or activity among us—not at any time. Later, I came to understand that Santu Larma is extremely suspicious by nature. He constantly fears that someone might take away his position as president or emerge as his rival. I have even heard that he mistrusts his own colleagues. Yet a true revolutionary can never be driven by a hunger for power. Such a person never considers their position in an organization as power, but rather as responsibility. Observing Santu Larma, however, it does not seem that he embraces or understands this revolutionary principle.

Should it not have been the duty of Santu Larma or the JSS leadership to encourage and support Prasit Khisha and other emerging student and youth leaders so that they could one day take charge of the national movement? In short, should they not have helped them develop into capable leaders? Instead, he saw them as his own rivals. Not only that—he became determined to destroy this emerging leadership. Can this be acceptable in any way? Leadership does not arise spontaneously, nor does it develop easily. The leadership of our generation was forged through the student and mass movements of the 1990s. Rather than viewing that leadership as a complement to the JSS, he treated it as an enemy and took steps to eliminate it. Can any sane leader truly do such a thing? He should have accepted that, by the natural course of history, Prasit Khisha or someone from our generation would one day have to assume leadership of the entire national movement.

In any case, as a result of efforts to divide the three organizations, the external democratic movement weakened. The armed struggle had long since ended. After the JSS unilaterally declared a ceasefire on 10 August 1991, not a single bullet was fired from their guns. The surrender of arms was only a matter of time and merely a formality.

The JSS leadership did not stop at dividing the three organizations and suppressing the external movement. They (primarily Santu Larma) created hit lists that included Prasit Khisha and several other leaders of the three organizations, and instructed their cadres to “arrest” them wherever they could be found. Whether these actions reflect the JSS leaders’ lack of sense, shortsightedness, opportunism, or a combination of all three is for the readers to judge. What I wish to emphasize is this: the ruling class of Bangladesh had failed for years to suppress the overground mass movement, yet the JSS leaders themselves, through conspiracy, divided and weakened the three organizations and destroyed that movement. Instead of uniting both the underground and overground forces to pressure the government into making concessions at the negotiating table, the opportunistic and foolish JSS leadership—or Santu Larma—destroyed both the underground armed struggle and the overground democratic movement. People go to war united. Dialogue with the government is also a form of war, or part of war. Yet the JSS leaders entered that dialogue-war by dividing their own strength. Could there be any greater foolishness or lack of judgment than this?

As stated earlier, before the Accord, the leaders of the three organizations never contemplated forming a separate new party. I myself was mentally prepared to join the JSS and, to be honest, had even set out to do so. With me was Abhilash Chakma from Kutukchari, who was also associated with the PCP and PGP. He later joined the UPDF, remained active for several years, and then left the party.

The two of us set out in January 1997 to join the JSS. Upon reaching Khagrachari, Abhilash Chakma called a relative of his, a JSS leader (Sonam Babu), to inform him of our decision. Hearing that we were going to join the JSS, Sonam Babu discouraged us, saying, “Ki mottagi” (“Why are you coming here to die?”). As a result, we changed our decision and returned home instead of proceeding further north.

It should be mentioned that before setting out to join the JSS, I had met Prasit Khisha and Rabi Shankar Chakma in Dhaka. Both of them discouraged us from joining the JSS. They said, “The JSS is no longer the JSS it once was. Although JSS leaders are saying they will go for a one-point demand if necessary (meaning independence), and although they are calling on young people to join the Shanti Bahini or the JSS, in reality they will not carry out any movement. It is certain that they will reach an understanding with the government.” They claimed to have received such indications from several important JSS leaders. Ultimately, their words proved to be true. The JSS did indeed adopt a one-point demand—but that one point was not independence or secession; it was surrender through the handing over of arms.

In any case, because we did not join the JSS, JSS leaders became angry with us. I and Shanti Deb Chakma (who was then associated with the PGP, later a UPDF leader, and who died of a stroke two years ago) were abducted from Rangamati town. I do not recall the exact date, but it occurred a few days after we returned from Khagrachari in January 1997. We were shopping at a store near the Forest Office in Rangamati town. Present with us was Ranjan Moni Chakma, now a UPDF organizer. Shanti Deb was getting a haircut at the time. Suddenly, 10–12 youths supported by the JSS, led by Asin Chakma, arrived and forcibly took us away. We were first taken to Poran Jurani Store in Banarupa, and from there to Bandukbhanga.

Around the same time, in Panchari, the JSS abducted PCP leader Animesh Chakma Rinku (now associated with the BNP), Kusum Priya Chakma, and Supayan Khisha. It is very likely that they were physically tortured. This incident took place on 5 August 1997 (Swadhikar, Bulletin No. 7). On the way to Dhudukchara, local people organized resistance and rescued them from their abductors. However, although Kusum Priya Chakma survived at that time, he ultimately did not escape the JSS. After the Accord, on 4 April 1998, he was murdered along with PGP leader Pradip Lal Chakma.

But what was their crime? What had they done that warranted being killed by the JSS? To this day, JSS leaders have offered no explanation. Whenever there is a difference of opinion, or when they consider someone a political rival or opponent, the JSS leadership’s primary method of dealing with them is to eliminate them physically. Even those who become witnesses to their misdeeds are removed. The murder of Chabai Mog is an example; it is believed he was killed because he had witnessed certain actions of JSS leaders.

Everything described so far occurred before the Accord and surrender. After the Accord, JSS attacks on the three organizations intensified even further. They began killing leaders, activists, and supporters of the three organizations in pairs. I have already mentioned the murders of Pradip Lal and Kusum Priya Chakma. Then, on 3 February (1999) in Khagrachari, Harendra Chakma and Hurukya Chakma were abducted and killed, followed a few days later on 8 February in Dighinala by the abduction and murder of Anandamoy Chakma and Mrinal Chakma.

Alongside the JSS, the Bangladesh government also increased repression against the three organizations. On 11 February 1998, police arrested me in Naniarchar. This occurred the day after Shanti Bahini members handed over their weapons at the Khagrachari stadium. On 10 February, Santu Larma had inaugurated the arms surrender ceremony by handing an AK-47 rifle to then–Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina.

After my arrest, many more leaders and activists of the three organizations were also arrested, details of which can be found in the report of the Chittagong Hill Tracts Commission. After the Accord, JSS leaders and cadres were roaming about arrogantly, while we—the leaders and activists of the three organizations—could not even leave our homes. Under the joint attack of the JSS and the Bangladesh government, our condition was extremely dire.

Yet despite all this, the leaders and activists of the three organizations did not lose heart. We firmly believed that our political position was correct. Our simple calculation was that the JSS was no longer capable of conducting a movement, nor did it have the will to do so. Therefore, if the movement was to be preserved and carried forward, there was no alternative but to form a new party. This was the demand of the time and our historical responsibility. After the end of the monarchical era, in the modern age, without a party the people have nothing; they become completely leaderless. Thus, to meet the needs of the time, the three organizations organized a party preparatory conference in Dhaka on 25–26 December 1998 and, after extensive discussion, announced the formation of the United People’s Democratic Front (UPDF).

The new party’s initial declaration stated:

“If there had existed in the Chittagong Hill Tracts any truly representative party genuinely committed to establishing the rights of the unfortunate people of the region, there would have been no need for us to form a new party. The democratic forces that emerged through the student awakening of 1989—the Hill Students’ Council, the Hill People’s Council, and the Hill Women’s Federation—would have joined such a people-oriented party and played their due role in the struggle for rights.

“But no such party exists in the Chittagong Hill Tracts. Although the Jana Samhati Samiti long claimed to fight for the rights of the people, it has become completely politically bankrupt by signing an accord and surrendering to the ruling Awami League government.”

(Swadhikar, Bulletin No. 9, 15 March 1999)

What the UPDF said 27–28 years ago has today come true word for word. It is now clear to everyone that the UPDF is on the correct path of struggle. For this reason, the ruling class is desperately trying to destroy the UPDF in order to leave the hill people leaderless. But it is not possible for the reactionary forces to destroy the UPDF. Under the leadership of the UPDF, the rights of the hill peoples will one day surely be achieved.

(25 December 2025)

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