Lakshadweep, a chain of low-lying coral islands in the Arabian Sea, is at the centre of a high stakes dispute over land and belonging. At the heart of it is pandarappattam, also known as pandaram bhoomi or ‘crown lands’, a long-standing system under which island families held hereditary rights to live on their house sites and to cultivate their coconut groves, even when the land is recorded as government-owned.Passed down within the community, these rights have anchored island life for generations by protecting livelihoods and the local way of life. However, that lifeline balance is now under strain. The Union government’s recent attempts to reclassify, reclaim and re-plan pandaram lands in the name of tourism and infrastructure have sparked fears of displacement and ecological damage on the islands already vulnerable to erosion and climate stress. The Kerala high court is hearing challenges from residents and other stakeholders, weighing how far the administration can go without eroding historical rights or harming a fragile environment. Ultimately, this is more than a technical question of property records. It is a test of whether this development in Lakshadweep will be shaped with its people or imposed upon them, and whether a centuries-old culture tied to land and sea can endure under sweeping policy changes. A visit to Lakshadweep Against this backdrop, my journey to Lakshadweep took on new meaning; the political undercurrents during my visit were impossible to ignore. Under the administration of Praful Khoda Patel, whose tenure had already stirred deep unease among locals, Lakshadweep was experiencing an uneasy churn of political and social change. My instinctive political curiosity turned the journey into something far deeper than mere vacation. It was a rainy Friday afternoon when Suresh Sir called. “I couldn’t find you at home. Come to the station for a verification,” he said. Assuming it was for another expected purpose, I headed there without hesitation. Upon arriving, I realised it was for the police clearance check regarding a friend’s application to visit Lakshadweep. I had previously obtained travel permits twice but had been unable to travel due to health issues. Gratitude overwhelmed me as I prepared for this long-awaited journey, made possible by my dear islander friend who couldn’t swim, yet opened the doors of the enigmatic archipelago for me. Despite the season’s unpredictable weather, I ventured across the islands, drawn to their distinct geography, resilient communities, and vibrant cultural life. The shared linguistic and cultural ties with Kerala, along with the warmth and hospitality of local friends, made every moment both enlightening and profoundly moving. A historical overviewSituated 200 to 400 kilometres off the coast of Kerala, Lakshadweep is an archipelago of 35 islands spread across the Arabian Sea. Historically, 36 islands were recorded, but one has since submerged. Covering just 32 square kilometres, it is India’s smallest and most densely populated union territory. Of all the islands, only 10 are inhabited – although official records count 11, including Bangaram, a government-administered tourist destination. The islands were formally named ‘Lakshadweep’ in 1971 after a bill introduced by then MP P.M. Sayeed. Traditionally, the islands were grouped into three clusters: Amindivi (Amini, Kadmat, Kiltan, Chetlat, Bitra), Laccadive (Agatti, Kavaratti, Kalpeni, Androth), and Minicoy (including two uninhabited islands). Each cluster was governed by local chieftains and had distinct cultural and governance practices shaped over centuries: Minicoy cluster Minicoy’s history reflects its geographical closeness to the Maldives. Local kings ruled it and later became part of Lakshadweep through an agreement with rulers of the Chirakkal dynasty after a devastating cyclone struck the island. This transition marked its integration into the larger Lakshadweep territory. Minicoy’s culture, governance and language also reflect its unique ties with the Maldives. Mahl, the official Maldivian language, is widely spoken here, too, while Malayalam is dominant across the other islands. Amindivi cluster The Amindivi group’s history is rich in maritime trade and conflict. After the Chirakkal rule, power shifted to the Arakkal family, ruled by Arakkal Beevi, before the islanders protested and placed themselves under Tipu Sultan’s governance for protection. After the fall of Srirangapatna, the British took over the islands. Laccadive clusterThe islands in the Laccadive cluster (Androth, Kiltan, Kavaratti, and Agatti) were initially ruled by local chiefs and later by the Chirakkal dynasty. However, unlike the conflict-ridden Amindivi islands, power transitioned smoothly from the Chirakkal rulers to the Arakkal dynasty. However, a cyclone severely damaged Kiltan and Agatti, and the expected relief from Beevi did not materialise due to financial constraints. British administrator William Robinson is said to have exploited this crisis, offering rehabilitation funds, which were later recorded as loans. All islands, except those under Tipu Sultan, eventually fell under British rule. The history of these islands illuminate Lakshadweep’s complex socio-political journey – a story shaped by natural disasters, strategic alliances, maritime trade and external powers. Each island group’s legacy adds to the archipelago’s unique identity and resilience. It is for this reason that the issue of pandarapattam (land tenure) in Lakshadweep is far from trivial. Pandarapattam dispute: Origin The Pandarapattam dispute is like a genie released from a bottle by the Union government to challenge the islanders. The BJP-ruled central government, driven by political motives, has used this as a tool to portray the predominantly Muslim community residing in the islands as second-class citizens, reflecting the ideological inclinations of its right-wing policies, and symbolising governance overreach and systemic injustice. The apparent modernisation efforts, such as the promotion of high-end tourism, are no more than a superficial gloss over a deeply frozen core of disregard for the local community’s interests and rights. Though visually appealing, these policies fail to address the fundamental concerns and aspirations of the Lakshadweep’s dense population, over 60% of which falls under government control. The origins trace back to the Arakkal ruler’s declaration of uninhabited lands as pandarappattam, further perpetuated under British rule. In the early days, the affairs of inhabited islands were governed by the respective karanavars (local chieftains) of each island. Over time, their authority diminished, passing first to the Chirakkal royal family and later to the Arakkal royal family. By the 15th century, governance under the Arakkal rulers introduced a system where land ownership depended on the number of coconut palms planted, enabling some to amass power by planting extensive groves and claiming vast tracts of land.For the Arakkal rulers, the primary interest in the islands was the revenue generated through taxes. To systematise taxation, the Arakkal rulers conducted a survey and declared unproductive or uninhabited lands as pandaram bhoomi. This declaration caused unrest among the influential locals. To quell opposition, Beevi transferred management rights of such lands back to prominent locals while retaining ownership.The land categorised as pandaram bhoomi was auctioned in Kannur, granting leaseholders the rights to manage and collect products from it. Over time, as the royal family’s needs grew, these lands were repurchased. According to the prevailing laws, pandaram lands were initially classified into two types, and later expanded into three: Uninhabited Islands: These were under the direct control of the Arakkal rulers. However, given the challenges of tax collection, locals were allowed to cultivate these lands and retain the produce. Uninhabited Areas Within Inhabited Islands: The Arakkal rulers declared unutilised areas as pandaram bhoomi and auctioned them to residents. Taxes were collected from these leaseholders. Confiscated lands: Inhabited areas forcibly seized under dubious legal claims were also classified as pandaram bhoomi. The Arakkal rulers and their officials occasionally fabricated charges to confiscate land from the locals. A notable instance of this involved the islands of Suheli Veliyakara and Cheriyakara, which were declared pandaram bhoomi following accusations against a clerk. Similarly, the famous tourist island of Bangaram near Agatti became pandaram bhoomi by confiscation after the death of an Arakkal official in resistance. During British rule, the practices surrounding such lands were distinct. The pandaram bhoomi in Lakshadweep and Minicoy was managed by tax collectors known as kaul or kauldars. Over time, as this system became less profitable, the British started leasing them out for longer durations, ranging from 12 to 40 years. At this juncture, the British began leasing such lands to ordinary people or workers who were interested in agriculture. This practice started initially in Agatti and Kavaratti. By the 1930s, the wave of the freedom struggle swept through the country, and the British started distancing themselves from the administration of the islands. As a result, many leased lands were handed over to workers for long-term use and over time, converted into residential areas. Notably, a specific transfer system prevailed in the islands, which became a significant hurdle later. According to the traditional practice, if a person planted a coconut tree on pandaram bhoomi (as permitted by the Beevi or the British), they received compensation based on the age of the coconut tree when the land was reclaimed by the state or for public purposes. However, as British control weakened in the 1930s, islanders began planting more coconut trees on such lands. By 1965, most of the island lands were under private occupation, based on old practices. Following India’s independence in 1947, the administration of Lakshadweep was transferred to the Indian Union. However, the issue of pandaram bhoomi persisted. When the question of ownership arose post-independence, the Indian government enacted the Lakshadweep & Minicoy Land Revenue and Tenancy Amendment in 1965, granting rights over pandaram bhoomi to those who cultivated it. By 1972-73, the land survey of Lakshadweep was also completed. Under government directives, if any construction or public infrastructure was built on such lands, compensation went to the owners. Significant establishments like Agatti’s airport and various government buildings in Kavaratti were built under this policy.However, under the 1965 legislation, newly formed land, such as coastal areas created by oceanic activity, was designated as government property. This led to certain coastal lands coming under state control, marking a mere change in land ownership dynamics. Due to the consistent efforts of the Lakshadweep administrators post-independence, many individuals were granted legal titles for pandaram bhoomi over time, adhering to prescribed norms. The current dispute In 2013, during his Republic Day address, then-administrator H. Rajesh Prasad spoke about the issue and committed to regularising ownership by issuing legal titles to rightful claimants. Orders were issued, and on March 18, 2020, the President of India approved a directive to further facilitate the process of granting titles. However, the new administrator argues that these measures were marred by manipulation and deceit. Currently, apart from the naturally formed coastal lands, no other land is in the possession of the government for which compensation has not been provided. Therefore, the current uproar appears to be driven solely by political interests. It is to be remembered that this dispute is not merely a legal or administrative issue; it is a deeply human one, affecting thousands of islanders who rely on these lands for sustenance and identity. The inability to resolve such a critical issue underscores the systemic neglect faced by Lakshadweep’s residents, amplifying their struggles against structural inequities. A political conspiracy? The intensification of divisive policies reached a boiling point during the communal riots that ravaged Gujarat in 2002, leaving the state on fire. Amidst this chaos, certain key figures drew widespread criticism in the media. One such figure was the then state home minister, Amit Shah. Following his arrest in the Sohrabuddin Sheikh fake encounter case, he was later replaced by Praful Khoda Patel, who was controversially appointed as the administrator of the islands. This controversial appointment itself raises suspicions of an underlying political agenda driving the ongoing crisis in the islands, casting a shadow over the true motives at play.The islanders have repeatedly criticised the administration’s interferences in local affairs – such as forcefully acquiring lands, lifting toddy ban, restricting beef consumption, and imposing excessive regulations on island permits – expressing their disapproval over the disruption of stable ecosystem of the islands to serve larger political goals of the Union government. Under Patel’s leadership, for the first time since independence, the islanders have collectively risen against an administrator who neither understands nor seems interested in the history and ethos of Lakshadweep, which is known for its geographical uniqueness and culturally rich communities. The officials, mostly from the DANICS cadre (Delhi, Andaman & Nicobar, Lakshadweep, Daman & Diu, and Dadra & Nagar Haveli Civil Services), lack knowledge of the island’s social structure and economic intricacies – a longstanding grievance of the locals. No special training or orientation is provided to these appointees to familiarise them with the islands’ unique needs. Moreover, there has been a significant drop in local representation, especially in key departments like marine watchers, swatch missions, sports, agriculture, animal husbandry departments, etc. As a result, peaceful social fabric of the islands is under threat. The peaceful and harmonious environment is under severe strain, leaving many deeply disturbed. The intrusions, which blatantly disregard democratic principles and target a community legally recognised as the Scheduled Castes, highlight a troubling trend. However, as a politically enlightened island, with 100% literacy, the people of Lakshadweep must resist such actions and ensure their democratic rights are not trampled upon. As it stands The issue of pandaram bhoomi transcends mere governance. About a third of the population is directly affected by this ongoing struggle. As per the Land Classification Act of 1985, those who had acquired rights during British rule via the Malabar collector were legally supposed to be granted property rights over the land they occupied. However, this provision was never fully implemented. In 1985, 410 individuals were granted land rights by then Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee. However, due to the authority’s negligence and failure to foresee other rising rights, the distribution of land rights was delayed. Despite claims of large-scale development, the administration in Lakshadweep also claims that the region is akin to the Maldives and that similar tourism opportunities could be created here. However, such large-scale projects are not suitable for Lakshadweep because of the climate and structure of the islands. While the Maldives consist of around 1,200 small islands and experiences a tropical climate, with regular sunny days and relatively less intense rainfall, Lakshadweep, due to its proximity to the north-eastern monsoon, experiences stronger rainfall and more unpredictable weather, especially in the four-five months when the sea becomes more turbulent. Additionally, while the Maldives’ islands are located 1.5 meters above sea level, Lakshadweep’s coral reefs are not as stable, and scientific studies suggest that they are sinking. This instability, combined with environmental factors, makes Lakshadweep unsuitable for the kind of tourism infrastructure that has been proposed, despite the government’s efforts to promote such developments. Historical scientific studies and the letters sent to the President reportedly by 60 scientists, including Romulus Whitaker, Kartik Shankar, Bivash Pandav, and Divya Panikar, etc, about these concerns reflect the region’s unique challenges concerning larger development projects. The residents of Lakshadweep have never opposed the development. However, instead of ensuring their welfare, the continued injustices by the Union government, seemingly driven by short-sighted political interests, are deeply troubling. The broader implications of Lakshadweep’s plight resonate with global movements advocating for indigenous rights, climate justice, and cultural preservation. As we engage with these narratives, the responsibility to support and amplify the voices of the people of Lakshadweep becomes pertinent.Nabeel Kolothumthodi is Secretary to a Member of Parliament and an alumnus of the Faculty of Law, University of Delhi.