The state of Manipur, nestled in the northeast corner of India, has become a somber stage for an ongoing tragedy. For the past 19 months, Manipur has been caught in an unrelenting cycle of violence, where fragile peace is repeatedly shattered by brutal confrontations. The roots of the conflict lie deep within the land's history, its socio-political framework, and the austere interplay of ethnic identities, leaving the state fractured along communal lines.
The crisis, which escalated on May 3, 2023, in the form of ethnic violence between the Meitei and Kuki communities, has exacted a devastating toll: 250 lives lost, 1,600 injured, and over 60,000 displaced. Relief camps house the displaced, but these shelters are no more than temporary reprieves from the colossal loss of homes and livelihoods. Amid this turmoil, the complete assessment of damages, especially those caused by arson, remains elusive, leaving many without hope of compensation. What remains painfully evident is the profound sense of anger and frustration shared across all communities, driven by the absence of meaningful resolution. For many, the conflict has become a fight for honour, survival, and identity—a stark commentary on the socio-political fault lines that have come to define Manipur.
Manipur, with its 23,356 square kilometers of land and 3.2 million residents, is home to three dominant communities—the Meiteis, Nagas, and Kukis—who coexist within a complex socio-political mosaic. The Meiteis, the largest group, primarily inhabit the fertile Imphal Valley, constituting 53 per cent of the population. The Nagas (22 per cent) occupy the higher reaches of the surrounding hills, while the Kukis (16 per cent) inhabit the lower ridges. This geographic distribution has historically fostered competition for resources, particularly land, with 90 per cent controlled by the hill communities under special land and forest rights. The Meiteis, confined to the valley, face mounting pressure on their limited fertile land, fueling resentment and a demand for Scheduled Tribe (ST) status—a claim that has further widened the rift.
Religious demographics, too, have evolved over time, amplifying identity-based tensions. In 1961, Hindus made up 62 per cent of the population, a figure that has declined to 41 per cent, while Christians have risen from 19 per cent to 41 per cent, reflecting shifting socio-political dynamics. The Nagas and Kukis, predominantly Christian, have historically enjoyed autonomy under traditional customs, including land rights, which restrict the Meiteis from owning land in the hills. These entrenched divisions have laid the groundwork for ethnic unrest, with each group claiming to be the original inhabitants of the land—a contestation rooted in centuries-old narratives and migrations.
Manipur's post-independence trajectory has been marred by insurgency movements and the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act (AFSPA), which has drawn criticism for its alleged human rights abuses. The Naga insurgency, demanding a greater Nagalim, spilled into Manipur, fueling tensions between Nagas and Kukis in the 1990s. The violence resulted in over a thousand deaths and gave rise to Kuki militant groups, further militarizing ethnic divides. Despite periods of relative calm, such as the Suspension of Operations (SoO) agreement in 2008, mistrust has persisted, with allegations of non-compliance by armed groups exacerbating the situation.
Polarization extends beyond the communities into Manipur’s institutions. The state’s legislature, dominated by Meiteis with 40 out of 60 seats, has often been accused of neglecting Kuki- and Naga-dominated areas. The resulting underdevelopment and marginalization have deepened feelings of alienation. Even within the bureaucracy and state police, ethnic loyalties appear to dictate actions, undermining governance and trust in public institutions.
The present conflict is not an isolated eruption but the culmination of long-standing grievances. The valley's increasing population has intensified the demand for land, while the hills' autonomy has bred suspicion. The Free Move Regime (FMR), which allows cross-border movement along the Indo-Myanmar border, has been exploited for illicit activities, including drug and arms trafficking, further destabilizing the region. Unemployment, corruption, and systemic inequities have created a volatile mix, waiting for a spark.
The events of May 2023 were, therefore, not unexpected. Years of unresolved grievances and festering mistrust ensured that a violent confrontation was inevitable. What followed was a humanitarian crisis of staggering proportions, with communities retreating into ethnic silos and civil society struggling to mediate peace. The Meira Paibis, once a symbol of grassroots activism, have found their role complicated by the overarching conflict, reflecting the broader challenge of navigating entrenched divisions.
The path to peace in Manipur lies in addressing its foundational issues. A genuine commitment to equitable development, land reforms, and the de-politicization of institutions is crucial. Confidence-building measures, rooted in dialogue and transparency, must bridge the chasm of mistrust. Historical grievances cannot be erased, but an inclusive narrative that respects the unique identities and aspirations of all communities can pave the way for coexistence.
The lingering anger and frustration in Manipur are reminders of the human cost of delayed action and superficial solutions. It is time for the state and central governments to rise above political expediencies and invest in a sustainable resolution. Manipur’s story, rich in diversity and resilience, deserves a future unburdened by the shadows of its past.
Disclaimer: This insight is shared by 'Society to Harmonise Aspirations Responsible Engagement' (SHARE), a platform set up by distinguished individuals who have experience about the North East India (NEI) and propose to provide policy support that equips policymakers with direct insights. These insights will be published in series.