BackA political cure for Manipur
Though some of the fears of the locals were unfounded, it was based on an often-expressed and often-ignored reality in Manipur: governance typically favours the plains and ignores the hills
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On a visit to Churachandpur not long ago, I saw a sign by a church just outside the eponymous district headquarter town in southern Manipur: “There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death."
This Americanized version of Proverbs 14:12 could well be paraphrased as: There is a way that seems right to the government of Manipur, but in the end such presumption can lead to chaos.
Violence erupted in Churachandpur, a concentration of the Zomi people, which the government simplifies into the Kuki-Chin-Mizo group, after Manipur’s legislature passed the Protection of Manipur People Bill, 2015 on 31 August. A call for closure given by three tribal students’ bodies to protest against this bill and related amendments to two Acts—one regulating land ownership and the other, establishments—spiralled out of control. Police overreacted. Rage spilled over and police, and politicians’ residences, were attacked. Retaliation has since killed several locals and injured dozens.
Locals were upset that the bill, which seeks to regulate the entry, stay and work for outsiders similar to inner line permit (ILP) systems operational in Nagaland, Mizoram and Arunachal Pradesh, and the amendments, were formulated without any consultation with the tribal people of Manipur. There was concern that such legislation would lead to unsettling tribal folk in Manipur’s hill districts, and encroachment there by the people of the plains—mostly non-tribal Meitei.
Though some of the fears were unfounded—tribal land is protected by India’s Constitution—it was based on an often-expressed and often-ignored reality in Manipur: governance typically favours the plains and ignores the hills.
There cannot be a political cure in Manipur without addressing this fundamental flaw.
The movement for ILP is not new. During several visits to Manipur last year, I saw the initial peaking of the movement. It then settled down until mid-2015, when news arrived of an imminent settlement by the government of India with the National Socialist Council of Nagalim (Isak-Muivah), or NSCN-IM. As integrationists feared that a settlement with this pre-eminent Naga rebel group could spark a merging of Naga tribal homelands in Manipur with Naga homelands in Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh and Assam, the ILP movement in Manipur renewed its energy. After local police shot a student protester on 8 July, the movement flamed on across Imphal Valley—but significantly, not in the hill districts; and, not far beyond the Meitei community. The signing of a framework agreement for peace between the government of India and NSCN-IM on 3 August ensured momentum and pressure, leading to the panic passing of the ILP bill by the legislature this past Monday.
Going deeper, it irks the hill people that demographic compulsions dictate that while they live in an area comprising roughly a ninth of the state, they—Naga, Kuki and Zomi—account for about 40% of the population. Driven by a majority, non-tribal Meitei, the plains account for 40 seats in Manipur’s legislature; the hills, 20. There have been allegations of the local government superstructure playing off communities to benefit Meitei dominance.
An irony is that non-tribal Manipuri nationalists and rebels, almost exclusively Meitei, insist on autonomy or independence from India citing uniqueness of race, history and purpose. Yet, when it comes to Manipur, using a template of imperfection perfected by the government of India, they—along with the government of Manipur—preach integration from the perspective of the Meitei community. A frequently used phrase in nationalistic Manipuri rhetoric is that from time immemorial, people of the plains and the hills, Meitei and non-Meitei, have lived in harmony.
Besides being simplistic, such reading of history ignores aspirations and concerns of the hill people. It whitewashes the underdevelopment of the hill districts compared with Imphal valley; and that autonomous councils in the hill districts have for decades been starved of funds and the most basic administrative autonomy—hiring staff, sometimes even purchasing stationery—by the government of Manipur.
“In this society, we have no future," M.C. Chin Min Thang, vice-chairman of the Zomi Council, told me during a meeting in Churachandpur, in the town’s best-known meeting place—the improbably named and spelled Fat Jame’s Restaurant. “Manipur government… will be taking over our lives." As a response, he added, “We (Zomis) demanded an autonomous hill state. Kukis want a hill state. Nagas, they demand alternative arrangement"—by which Nagas hope to interact directly with New Delhi, jettisoning Imphal.
It’s now up to the government of Manipur to regain the faith it has lost through action, presumption and miscommunication.
Sudeep Chakravarti’s latest book is Clear.Hold.Build: Hard Lessons of Business. His previous books include Red Sun: Travels in Naxalite Country and Highway 39: Journeys through a Fractured Land. This column, which focuses on conflict situations in South Asia that directly affect business, runs on Fridays.
Respond to this column at rootcause@livemint.com
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