When Teachers Carry Rifles: India's Civilian Defense Gamble

At dawn in Ganote village, while most residents sleep, 50-year-oldNarinder Singh begins his morning patrol. But Singh isn't a soldier—he's a primary school teacher carrying a rifle older than India's independence.

Singh represents one of 300 civilian militia members in this remote Kashmiri village, armed with British-era .303 Lee-Enfield rifles and tasked with defending against anti-India insurgents. It's a model that transforms ordinary citizens into the first line of defense, raising uncomfortable questions about when states ask civilians to shoulder military burdens.

The Return of Village Defense

India's Village Defense Groups (VDGs) aren't new. First established in 1995 across Jammu's border districts, these civilian militias were designed to fill security gaps in areas where regular forces couldn't maintain constant presence. After being disbanded due to abuse concerns, they were quietly reconstituted in August 2022—three years after India stripped Kashmir of its semi-autonomous status, supposedly to end insurgency.

The timing reveals an uncomfortable truth: rather than achieving the promised peace, the region's security challenges persist. Recent drone sightings over Jammu and Poonch districts in January 2026, plus insurgent encounters that injured seven soldiers in Kishtwar, underscore ongoing threats along the Pakistan border.

Ganote village, home to 5,000 people in Ramban district, epitomizes the challenge. Accessible only by broken mountain roads and surrounded by steep, landslide-prone terrain, it's exactly the kind of isolated location where state security presence remains thin. Here, Singh has patrolled for nearly 30 years, watching the hills he calls home for signs of trouble.

Armed but Unprepared

The weapons tell the story of institutional neglect. Britain stopped producing the Lee-Enfield rifle in 1956, though Indian production continued into the 1980s. Today's VDG members carry these museum pieces against insurgents with modern weaponry.

"Have you seen our rifles?" Singh asks. "We carry British-era Lee–Enfield, .303 rifles. How can it aid us?"

Fellow VDG member Shiv Nath echoes the frustration: "We have no training, no new weaponry, we are just told to fire, if we see something suspicious. When soldiers undergo training for months, can't we be trained?"

The Indian Army finally announced training camps for VDGs in January 2026, but for veterans like Singh, it feels too little, too late. The psychological burden weighs heavily: "If we stay unarmed, insurgents might kill us. If we pick up arms, we become dearer targets of insurgents. We are walking a tightrope."

Political Calculations Behind Civilian Soldiers

The VDG revival coincides with broader political shifts. According to Firdous Tak, an advocate from Kishtwar, recent VDG recruitments have come through recommendations from India's ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), a Hindu nationalist organization.

This raises sectarian concerns in a region where demographics matter. Jammu's Hindu majority population provides most VDG recruits, while Muslims remain largely excluded from these armed groups. "Arming right-wing people is extremely dangerous, it has backfired before," Tak warns, citing past cases of extortion and abduction by VDG members.

A retired Indian Army general, speaking anonymously, acknowledges the strategic logic: "Armies can't be everywhere. We follow a grid system which cannot work in the higher reaches, so consequently a lot of villages are left uncovered." But he also recognizes the flaws: "They are poorly armed. Even the insurgents have better weaponry than them."

The Outsourcing of Security

The VDG model reflects a broader global trend of states delegating security responsibilities to civilians, from community policing initiatives to private military contractors. But Kashmir's case is particularly stark—it transforms non-combatants into combatants while maintaining the fiction of civilian normalcy.

This blurring of roles creates moral and legal ambiguities. Under international humanitarian law, civilians who directly participate in hostilities lose their protected status. VDG members like Singh find themselves in a gray zone: too civilian to receive proper military support, too militarized to claim civilian immunity.

The model also exposes the gap between official narratives and ground realities. Prime Minister Narendra Modi's government has consistently promoted Kashmir's integration as a security success, using air strikes against Pakistan and the revocation of Kashmir's special status as evidence of strength. Yet the need to arm civilians suggests persistent vulnerabilities that contradict these claims.