Indian activist detained under security law after protesting luxury hotel near wildlife park

Pranab Doley's father and lawyer arrived at the prison gates in Assam on July 30th expecting to bring him home. A court had granted the 40-year-old activist bail the day before, along with four others arrested during a June protest against a proposed luxury hotel near Kaziranga National Park. But when they reached the prison, Doley was not released. The Assam government had invoked the National Security Act—a sweeping law that permits authorities to hold people indefinitely without trial—and his freedom was denied.

Doley had been arrested weeks earlier for joining the June 28th demonstration against the hotel project, a five-star resort planned across ten acres near one of India's most ecologically significant protected areas. Kaziranga, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, shelters the world's largest population of one-horned rhinos, along with elephants, tigers, and countless other species across its grasslands, wetlands, and forests. The government's detention order, reviewed by the BBC, reached back nearly a decade to justify holding him. It cited thirteen criminal cases registered since 2017, describing a pattern of unlawful assembly, intimidation, obstruction, and violence. It also raised questions about foreign financial transactions and the source of funds for overseas travel.

The move ignited criticism from those who saw it as weaponizing a draconian law to silence dissent. Doley's lawyer, Mrityunjoy Pegu, countered that most of the older cases had been resolved, with only two pending before the latest arrest—charges Doley had already disclosed in his election affidavit when he ran as an independent candidate in the state elections. "He is an activist who fights for people's rights," Pegu told the BBC. "That is why the police had registered some cases against him." The detention brought into sharp focus a larger struggle over who owns the land surrounding Kaziranga and who bears the cost of protecting it.

The hotel project, announced in 2023 as a partnership between the Assam government and the Saraf Group—with development by Juniper Hotels, backed by Saraf and the American chain Hyatt—promised investment, jobs, and wealthier tourists to the region. Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma told the state assembly in July that the resort would bring prosperity. But dozens of families living near the proposed site told a different story. They said they had farmed the land for generations, and they questioned the government's claim of ownership. Some held receipts dating to 1956 proving they had paid for the land. Geeta Gwala, whose family cultivated 2.81 acres near the hotel site, was among those who took their case to court. "This is our ancestral land," she told the BBC. The district administration maintained that the land was government property and that most protesting families did not have registered claims to it, though authorities said they had provided financial assistance and land to eligible residents and promised job training.

Doley's own history shaped his commitment to this fight. He grew up in a farming family on the floodplains of the Brahmaputra River, where the water routinely shifted its banks, forcing families to resettle and leaving their land claims uncertain. His parents, he said, still had no formal land rights. He witnessed how conservation and community survival were inseparable—when Kaziranga flooded, rhinos and elephants moved toward higher ground, crossing farms and destroying crops, sometimes killing people. These experiences led him to believe that protecting the park meant protecting the people living alongside it. His early campaigns challenged alleged extrajudicial killings of suspected poachers inside Kaziranga; his work later expanded to evictions, land acquisition, and compensation. At the UN Forum on Business and Human Rights in Geneva the previous year, he had urged governments and businesses to shield indigenous communities from the costs of development.

On June 28th, tensions erupted. Police alleged that protesters entered the project area, damaged equipment, and attacked officers, with Doley accused of inciting the crowd. His organization, the Greater Kaziranga Land and Human Rights Protection Committee, disputed this account, saying police used force against the protesters and that Doley was not involved in any confrontation. When the judge reviewed the case before granting bail, video footage told a different story than the prosecution's claims. While some pushing and shoving between protesters and police was visible, the footage showed no direct attack on officers and no attempt to set machinery on fire as alleged. Doley was seen speaking with officials and seeking dialogue. The judge acknowledged that officers were injured but attributed the dispute to legitimate concerns over environmental damage and its impact on the local community. "True public order is achieved not by silencing the affected, but by listening to them," the bail order stated.

Yet Doley remained in jail. His lawyer said he had spent years helping families around Kaziranga fight for their rights. Now, Pegu said, "he is the one waiting for justice." The case had become a mirror held up to a fundamental question: in a region where conservation and survival are intertwined, whose voice gets heard, and at what cost?