Manipur is a state in India’s northeastern region, rich in culture and breathtaking views. Which now is also an epitome of brewing ethnic conflict that leaves policymakers scratching their heads and the rest of us wondering “Is anyone even paying attention?”
Manipur’s troubles did not begin yesterday. The roots of the crisis go deep, buried somewhere between unresolved ethnic tensions and systemic neglect. The immediate trigger? A clash between the Meitei community, predominantly in the valley, and the Kuki tribes, who inhabit the hills. Both groups have grievances as ancient as the hills surrounding them but with a modern twist, land disputes, political representation, and scheduled tribe status.
To comprehend the ongoing turmoil, it is essential to examine the contentious historical context of Manipur. The incorporation of Manipur into India in 1949 was anything but seamless, characterised by opposition and a persistent feeling of disconnection. The colonial policies established the basis for contemporary ethnic divisions. The British colonial government intentionally separated the Meiteis of the valley from the Kuki and Naga communities residing in the hills, a division that intensified as a result of divergent administrative structures. This segregation fostered mistrust, a sentiment nurtured for decades in the face of economic disparities and uneven development.
The Meitei population makes up a demographical composition of over 53% but occupies merely 10% area in the valley leaving people feeling stifled. The latest demand they have raised for Scheduled Tribe status was seen as threatening by the hill tribes, fearing loss of their resources and autonomy.
For the Kukis and Nagas, land is not merely a piece of geography but part of their identity. Government policies on forest conservation and evictions have affected the group disproportionately, aggravating feelings of exclusion. Hence, the present state of violence is not a result of a one-off incident but rather a culmination of long-standing tension between the groups.
Fast forward to post-independence India, what do you get? A potpourri of neglected policies, a sprinkle of militarisation, and above all, an element of alienation of culture. Manipur became less a state and more a strategic buffer zone: reducing its people’s existence to footnotes in a policy paper.
The numbers are staggering; 200 people dead, 50,000 displaced, and whole villages reduced to ashes, but it’s only a scratch on the surface of what humans have lost. Families have been broken; children left orphaned; and livelihoods gone. Schools stand paralysed either as ruins or centres of relief shelters, hospitals become overwhelmed with wounded civilians while services such as power remain crippled.
Civilian lives are spent in fear, as the armed groups run the show in such areas. Accounts of mob violence, arson, and attacks on religious sites further show the breakage of social fabric. The most vulnerable people in any war are women and children, who are mostly seen to be affected by such unrest, as several cases of gender-based violence have been reported.
The economic loss has also been equally ravaging. Manipur is one of India’s poorest states and has lost a significant trading portion and agriculture activities. With roads blocked and markets shut, essential commodities are scarce, and prices are skyrocketing. This disruption has cast many in this region into further poverty due to its dependence on fragile supply chains.
Adding ethnic tension to economic inequality and liberally seasoned with political inaction- mix well, warm up, and serve. You are left with a dispute so disorganised that even the most experienced crisis managers are left muttering, “Let’s form a committee.” Civil war-like situations, ethnic cleansing, and a state leadership that seems to think denial is a good tactic. When the killing began, the state government defaulted to the classic: blame the other side. Yes, the troops were eventually deployed but after weeks of slaughter. Peace talks are a sure thing – or so they say- so long as we define “talks” as photo-ops and vague promises.
Then there is the ban on internet services, which, though intended to prevent the spreading of fake news, only has driven the lack of accountability deep. No window exists for local voices to voice out and the tragedy of Manipur will be kept hidden to the rest of the nation. International organisations like the United States Institute of Peace have raised concerns over this but in India, such news will be eclipsed by politics of the scenario and media blitz.
The Manipur crisis isn’t a local issue. It’s a geopolitically complex situation since this region is an area for India’s Act East Policy, aimed at greater cooperation with Southeast Asia. But here’s the catch: a burning gateway isn’t exactly welcoming. China, ever the opportunist, is surely taking notes. And India’s claim to being a regional power? Well, it’s hard to flex when your backyard is on fire.
The crisis in Manipur needs to be addressed much better with more than the firefighting approach but on a much longer-term through justice, equality, and inclusiveness. First and foremost, government accountability begins with accepting how grave the situation is; prosecuting those responsible regardless of whether they are state actors or armed groups; and giving reparation to victims. Economic development is to be focused with particular emphasis on the neglected hill regions. Projects in infrastructure, education, and health may connect the valley with the hill region, thereby reducing this sense of alienation.
The Scheduled Tribe status of the Meiteis has to be handled very sensitively. An open, inclusive dialogue among all parties can find some middle ground respecting the rights and aspirations of all parties concerned. The investment must also be made by the government to rebuild trust among the communities, the people and the state. Along with peacebuilding efforts, there should be initiatives taken to bring harmony between the communities through cultural exchange programs and shared development projects.
Manipur’s crisis is not just a tragedy; it is a testament to the consequences of neglect and mismanagement. The people of Manipur deserve more than hollow promises and delayed actions. They deserve a government that listens, acts decisively, and prioritises human lives over political calculations. Not a government that has the mindset that as long as the conflict stays “regional” and doesn’t spill into Delhi’s headlines, it’s someone else’s problem.
The scars left by this conflict will take years to heal, but acknowledging the gravity of the situation is the first step. Manipur matters—not just as a geopolitical asset, but as a home to millions who deserve dignity, justice, and a chance at peace. But at least the speeches are inspiring. “We stand with the people of Manipur,” they say. Standing, perhaps. Acting? Not so much. And that is what is needed most.