Governance is not a private fiefdom of political elites: Chakma was right to refuse after-hours lobbying
In what many view as a principled stand on bureaucratic discipline, Gomati District Magistrate Tarit Kanti Chakma declined to meet Tipra Motha founder and royal descendant Pradyot Kishore Debbarman at his residence on Saturday evening, citing office hour norms and an uncompromising stance on administrative neutrality.

The unannounced visit by Debbarman — accompanied by a representative from the Tripura Tribal Areas Autonomous District Council — was reportedly aimed at discussing public grievances from the Ampi region. However, with the day being a government holiday and the meeting requested well past official working hours, the District Magistrate opted not to engage.
Sources in the administration clarified that DM Chakma, known for his professional integrity, follows a consistent policy of not entertaining political visits at his residence outside working hours, regardless of rank or affiliation. Saturday, being the fourth Saturday of the month, was officially a non-working day for government offices.
Despite the DM’s non-engagement being in line with standard administrative protocols, the incident sparked a flurry of political commentary after Debbarman, visibly upset, addressed media personnel gathered outside the DM’s residence. “I came here to meet the District Magistrate… He refused to meet. If he doesn’t wish to meet me, I have nothing to say,” Debbarman remarked, appearing visibly agitated.
While some political figures criticized the move, many civil society members and governance observers hailed Chakma’s decision as a rare assertion of bureaucratic dignity in the face of political pressure. They noted that the DM’s refusal underscores the importance of preserving institutional boundaries, especially in a state where political access has often blurred lines of administrative decorum.
But let’s pause and ask: did the District Magistrate do anything wrong?
Too often, especially in India’s political culture, we equate access with importance. Politicians — particularly those with legacy status — expect doors to open on demand. But the real strength of democracy lies in its rules, not its rulers. If we are to uphold the dignity of governance, then a bureaucrat must have the right to say, “Not now.”
Critics have tried to paint the DM’s decision as disrespect toward an elected figure. That argument falls flat. Respect is mutual. A pre-scheduled meeting during office hours, with due process, would have reflected such respect. Barging in unannounced and expecting deference is not democratic courtesy — it is feudal entitlement dressed in populist robes. The silence, the absence of public rebuttal, the refusal to engage theatrically — these are marks of bureaucratic maturity, not political calculation. Besides, one has to remember that the DM’s was a professional decision, consistent with his conduct toward all political figures.
Importantly, there is also a need to recognize the human side of public service. Civil servants, particularly those in demanding roles like that of a District Magistrate, often work long hours under immense stress. Their personal time — including weekends and evenings — is crucial not just for rest and recuperation, but also for spending time with family. Respecting those boundaries is essential to ensuring the well-being of those tasked with serving the public round the clock. Just as we expect accountability from officials during duty hours, it is equally important to allow them the dignity of personal space beyond it.
Let us not mistake silence for submission. The DM’s decision was not just about guarding his Saturday evening — it was about defending the idea that governance is not a private fiefdom of political elites. It reminded us that in a functioning democracy, the strength of the system lies in those who quietly uphold its boundaries — not in those who loudly seek to breach them.
One needs to remember that Civil servants are not on-call political aides.
Tarit Kanti Chakma, a young IAS officer from the Chakma community, is widely seen as a symbol of merit-based tribal representation in governance. His impartial approach has earned him respect across community lines. Notably, his refusal to meet was interpreted by many not as a snub to a political figure, but as a reaffirmation of civil service ethics — refusing to allow official channels to be bypassed for informal, after-hours lobbying.
The episode takes on added weight given the complex history between Tripura’s tribal communities. While Debbarman’s TIPRA Motha has championed tribal unity under the slogan ‘Thansa’ (unity), it has often drawn criticism for its perceived emphasis on Tripuri identity to the exclusion of others — including the Chakmas. Tensions between the Chakma and Tripuri communities, especially in regions like Dambur, have been simmering over land and demographic concerns.
Unlike other tribal groups in Tripura, Chakma organizations have historically distanced themselves from armed movements and militant politics. Many in the community have viewed Debbarman’s open association with former insurgents as unsettling. They still remember how they were selectively targeted during the days of militancy, especially in Dhalai district. The DM’s firm stance may also thus reflect broader discomfort with the political culture surrounding TIPRA Motha’s recent manoeuvres.
Still, the refusal should not be read through an ethnic lens. This was a decision rooted in official conduct — not personal or political sentiment since the DM does not entertain political leaders at his residence, regardless of their community or influence.
Interestingly, political observers noted that the subdued reaction from TIPRA Motha’s base might be due to Chakma’s own tribal identity. Had the DM been from the Bengali community, the response might have been far more aggressive and combative. The fact that he is a tribal officer insulated the situation from spiralling into ethnic confrontation.
For now, the incident serves as a moment of reflection for both politicians and bureaucrats in Tripura. In an increasingly polarized environment, Chakma’s quiet but firm assertion of professional boundaries may well set a precedent — reinforcing the idea that civil servants are beholden not to individuals, but to rules, institutions, and the public at large.
Whether this moment signals a deeper shift in tribal political dynamics — or remains a passing flashpoint — remains to be seen.
(Also Published in the Tripura Times)