Meghalaya’s $16-bn dream collides with land politics, identity anxiety and investor fear

Editor,

Meghalaya’s Republic Day narrative of rapid economic ascent is seductive, but it rests on a fragile foundation that official speeches carefully avoid examining. A reported 9.66% GSDP growth rate and ambitious projections of a $16-billion economy by 2032 sound impressive, yet numbers alone do not build economies — structures do. Unless the state confronts its entrenched legal, social, and political contradictions, this growth risks remaining a statistical illusion rather than a lived transformation.

At the heart of Meghalaya’s economic paradox lies land. The state’s land ownership regime under the Sixth Schedule, while historically protective of tribal rights, has become the single greatest deterrent to sustained investment. Opaque titles, clan-controlled negotiations, and the near-impossibility of land transfer to non-tribals have turned even well-intentioned projects into prolonged battles. Investors do not fear regulation; they fear uncertainty. Without a transparent, time-bound, and culturally sensitive land-use framework, Meghalaya will struggle to move beyond government-led construction and event-based growth into serious industrialisation.

Equally troubling is the persistent unease in doing business in the state. Despite policy claims of deregulation and improved rankings, the ground reality tells a different story. Projects cleared on paper often collapse under the weight of local resistance, pressure groups, and post-approval protests. In Meghalaya, legality does not guarantee legitimacy, and investors quickly learn that permissions can be nullified by street power. This informal veto system erodes confidence and reinforces the perception that the state is economically unpredictable.

The influence of local pressure groups, while rooted in genuine social anxieties, has increasingly become a brake on development. Economic initiatives are routinely framed as cultural invasions, and resistance politics has become a default response to change. The absence of institutionalised dialogue between communities, investors, and the state has allowed suspicion to replace negotiation. Development cannot proceed when every project is treated as an existential threat.

Overlaying these structural issues is the unresolved tribal–non-tribal fault line that continues to haunt Meghalaya’s public life. Persistent hostility towards non-tribals—often labelled as “outsiders” regardless of citizenship or contribution—creates a hostile environment for professionals, entrepreneurs, and institutions. A $16-billion economy requires skills, capital, and ideas that transcend ethnic boundaries. Identity politics may mobilise sentiment, but it cannot build globally competitive ecosystems.

The contradiction becomes sharper when the state courts global tourism brands, IT firms and private healthcare while sections of society openly distrust external participation. High-end tourism, technology parks, universities, and manufacturing units demand openness, stability and social acceptance. An economy cannot simultaneously invite the world and fear it.

Moreover, Meghalaya’s growth remains dangerously narrow. Much of the expansion has been driven by public spending, tourism, and infrastructure projects — sectors that generate visibility but limited long-term resilience. Deep industrialisation, value-added agriculture, and export-oriented manufacturing remain weak. Without these, growth will remain consumption-driven and vulnerable to fiscal shocks.

Finally, the human capital story is incomplete. Increased spending on education and entrepreneurship has not translated into robust private-sector employment. The state continues to produce aspirational youth for an economy that cannot absorb them, reinforcing dependence on government jobs and migration. Economic growth that does not create broad-based, dignified employment is not inclusive—it is unstable.

Meghalaya stands at a crossroads. It can either confront its contradictions or be undone by them. Achieving a $16-billion economy will require political courage to reform land use without eroding tribal rights, discipline to contain informal power structures, maturity to separate identity from economics, and vision to shift from event-led optics to production-led growth. Without these, the state’s impressive statistics will remain just that—numbers, not transformation.

Yours etc.

A concerned citizen