Telangana stands at a crossroads, caught up in a heated debate over alleged illegal immigration—especially when it comes to Rohingya and Bangladeshi communities. The state government plans to roll out a State Immigrant Register (SIR) in April or May 2026. Even before any official announcement, political parties have started lining up their booth-level agents, making it clear that identifying and tracking non-citizens is about to become a top priority. You could feel the tension building at the recent “Dharma Rakshana Sabha” in Balapur. Organized by the Bhagyanagar Ganesh Utsav Samithi, this large gathering put anxieties about “love jihad” and demographic change front and center, all under the shadow of the so-called infiltrator threat.

Looming Shadow of the SIR: A State-Level NRC?

The SIR itself looms like a state-level NRC—an exercise in listing and sorting people, with the aim of flagging “illegal immigrants.” If the government moves ahead with the SIR, it will reshape the way citizenship and residency work in Telangana. Actually running the SIR, though, won’t be easy. Gathering accurate data, verifying documents, and avoiding mistakes that leave people out—all of these are huge challenges.

Dharma Rakshana Sabha: Amplifying Concerns

The Balapur (Hyderabad) gathering wasn’t just another event. With a sizable Rohingya community nearby, the “Dharma Rakshana Sabha” gave a platform to rising fears. Speakers hammered away at two points:

First, the claim that more and more Rohingya and Bangladeshi people live in Hyderabad without documentation, supposedly involved in illegal activities and putting pressure on local resources. Many argued it’s too easy for them to get Indian identity papers.

Second, the idea of “love jihad”—a loaded term for what some believe is a deliberate effort by Muslim men to convert Hindu women through marriage. The speakers tried to link this narrative to illegal immigration, suggesting a wider conspiracy at play.

By weaving together “love jihad” and illegal immigration, organizers pushed a story of a cultural and religious threat.

Data and Demographics: Unravelling the Numbers

When it comes to the numbers, clarity is hard to find. Reliable data on undocumented immigrants just doesn’t exist. Still, some estimates offer a window into the scale:

The UNHCR puts the number of registered Rohingya refugees in India at around 18,000 to 20,000, many of whom live in Hyderabad. Officials, though, often guess that the unregistered population is much higher. As for Bangladeshi nationals, the numbers get even fuzzier. No specific figures for Telangana exist, but nationwide estimates run from several lakhs to over a crore. Hyderabad’s economy keeps attracting those searching for work.

In 2025, the Telangana police reported deactivating more than 3,500 Aadhaar cards that non-citizens allegedly obtained fraudulently in Hyderabad. Over the past year, they’ve identified and processed 250 to 300 undocumented foreign nationals for deportation, although actually sending them back remains a slow and tangled process. The absence of hard data leaves plenty of room for speculation and exaggeration, which only feeds the story of a massive infiltration. The focus on Aadhaar fraud shows just how tough it is for authorities to stop non-citizens from accessing official documents—a core issue in the debate.

Intelligence Agencies Keep Sounding The Alarm

Central intelligence agencies and state police keep sounding the alarm. They worry illegal immigrants can become easy targets for terror groups or get caught up in trafficking, drug smuggling, or counterfeiting. With borders so easy to slip through and fake documents everywhere, these risks feel real and immediate.

NGOs and global organizations like the UNHCR push for a more compassionate response. They talk about the harsh realities Rohingya refugees face—fleeing persecution, living in limbo. Non-refoulement isn’t just a buzzword for them; it means not sending people back into danger. They fight for basics: education, healthcare, a shot at dignity.

When labels like “infiltrator” get thrown around, people lose their stories. They become faceless threats, not individuals in crisis. We need more than just a one-size-fits-all approach. It’s crucial to separate real security concerns from the desperation of those searching for safety.

Booth-Level Agents and the Electoral Stakes

Political parties aren’t blind to the stakes. By calling for booth-level agents, they signal how high the temperature is running. With elections coming up, the “infiltrator” debate isn’t just policy—it’s politics. Telangana’s “infiltrator” problem isn’t just about borders. It’s a knot of national security, human rights, and political calculation. The SIR announcement and the ramped-up rhetoric all but guarantee this stays front and center. As the debate heats up, the real test is whether Telangana can find a path that’s both tough on security and fair to those caught in the crossfire. Getting this right means reckoning with the law, ethics, and—most of all—the lives of everyone inside its borders.