Remembering Rampur ka Tiraha: State violence and the birth of Uttarakhand’s struggle

By Vidya Bhushan Rawat* 

In the turbulent political landscape of the early 1990s, India witnessed events that reshaped its social and regional equations. After the Babri Masjid demolition in 1992, Uttar Pradesh politics shifted dramatically, bringing the Samajwadi Party–Bahujan Samaj Party coalition to power in 1993 under Mulayam Singh Yadav. But the partnership was uneasy. Mulayam was never entirely comfortable playing the “Mandal card.” While Kanshi Ram and the BSP had consistently demanded the implementation of the Mandal Commission recommendations, Mulayam hesitated, wary of how the move might play out.

The push, however, came from the Janata Dal leadership—V.P. Singh, Sharad Yadav, Lalu Prasad Yadav, and Ram Vilas Paswan—whose pressure forced Mulayam to act. Eventually, the Uttar Pradesh government issued an order implementing 27% reservations for OBCs, signed by Governor Motilal Vora.

Mandal Meets Uttarakhand’s Aspirations

While the decision was meant to consolidate OBC support in the plains, it had a very different impact in the hill districts. The region had long nurtured aspirations for a separate Uttarakhand state. The reservation order became a rallying point, intensifying unrest. Protesters in the hills mostly adopted peaceful forms of resistance—sit-ins, dharnas, symbolic rallies. Yet, there was no attempt by the state leadership to open dialogue.

When Uttarakhand’s activists announced a large rally at Delhi’s Lal Quila Grounds on October 2, 1994, supported by employee unions, students, and political groups, the state government responded with repression rather than negotiation.

The Night of Rampur ka Tiraha

On their way to Delhi, convoys of peaceful protesters were stopped by Uttar Pradesh police. At Rampur ka Tiraha near Muzaffarnagar, things turned tragic. In the dead of night, police opened fire on buses filled with unarmed demonstrators. Young lives were lost. Even worse, reports emerged of women protesters being assaulted and humiliated. Many fled into sugarcane fields to escape brutality.

The massacre ignited fury across the hill districts. Mulayam Singh Yadav, already disliked in the region, became a symbol of betrayal and repression. His silence—his refusal to even express regret—deepened the wound. Yet, politically, he calculated that Uttarakhand’s outrage would only strengthen his standing among OBCs in the plains, reducing his dependence on the BSP.

A Turning Point for Uttarakhand

The Rampur ka Tiraha violence marked a watershed moment in Uttarakhand’s statehood struggle. Until then, the hill region had largely remained peaceful—even curfews were rare. But after October 1994, distrust of Uttar Pradesh’s political leadership became absolute. Statehood, once a demand, now felt like an inevitability.

Eventually, the BJP-led government under Atal Bihari Vajpayee pushed the statehood resolution forward, with Kalyan Singh’s Uttar Pradesh government also giving its consent. In 2000, Uttaranchal—later renamed Uttarakhand—was born.

Justice Denied

More than three decades later, the memories of Rampur ka Tiraha still haunt the region. No police officer or district magistrate has ever been held accountable. Inquiry reports were buried. Officers accused of brutality went on to flourish in their careers, even gaining favor with successive governments.

This impunity raises fundamental questions about our governance. How can people trust a system where the police, instead of protecting citizens, act as instruments of political repression—and where leaders shield them from consequences? Until guilty officers are prosecuted, the message remains clear: state violence is permissible when it serves political ends.

A Tribute, and a Warning

October 2, 1994, is not just a date in Uttarakhand’s history. It is a reminder of how state violence can deepen alienation and fracture bonds. The British had administratively merged the hill region into Uttar Pradesh, but Rampur ka Tiraha ensured that emotionally, the separation was complete.

On this anniversary, my tribute goes to all the victims of that dark night. Their sacrifice accelerated Uttarakhand’s journey to statehood. But justice is still denied. For the sake of democracy, accountability must not remain an empty promise.

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*Human rights defender