Mughalu T Kinimi
Artificial intelligence offers new possibilities for Naga languages and cultural heritage. But technological enthusiasm must be accompanied by cultural understanding and discernment.
Artificial intelligence is no longer a distant technological development for Nagaland. It is gradually finding its way into our languages, educational institutions and conversations about cultural preservation. For a state with considerable linguistic and cultural diversity, this presents exciting possibilities. Our languages can reach wider audiences, oral traditions can be documented, and cultural resources can become more accessible to younger generations. Yet, amid this growing enthusiasm, there is a question we should begin asking: are we thinking sufficiently about what it means to bring our cultural heritage into the digital world?
Recent developments suggest that Nagaland is beginning to take meaningful steps in this direction. In February 2026, a multidisciplinary research team led by Dr R Vasanthan of Nagaland University received international recognition for its work on improving machine translation for Nagamese, the widely spoken creole that serves as a lingua franca among Naga communities. The project demonstrated how artificial intelligence could support a language that has received limited attention in mainstream language technologies. Earlier, in October 2025, Tir Yimyim, the Ao vernacular daily published from Dimapur, launched Ao Lingo, an AI-powered translation website that enables English-to-Ao translation. Readers were invited to contribute words and phrases to help improve the system. The initiative was an encouraging example of how language development can involve community participation.
There have also been proposals to use AI-based speech technologies to record and preserve Naga oral traditions, including stories, songs, myths and community histories. A March 2026 article in The Morung Express highlighted these possibilities while emphasising that community involvement is essential and that recordings collected for public research should not be diverted for private commercial purposes. In August 2025, the State Advisor for School Education and SCERT also spoke about inviting groups to explore AI applications for language development. These developments indicate that the conversation about AI and cultural preservation has already begun in Nagaland.
Such initiatives deserve encouragement. Many of our languages and cultural memories have travelled across generations through oral transmission. As elders pass away, stories, expressions, songs and knowledge may disappear if they are not documented. Digital technologies can help record voices, organise archives, develop translation tools and make learning resources available to younger generations. Even traditional attire, ornaments, patterns, crafts and other cultural expressions can be digitally documented for future reference. These are valuable possibilities, particularly at a time when cultural practices are changing and younger generations are increasingly separated from some of the contexts in which they developed.
However, we must recognise that digitising cultural material is not the same as preserving cultural heritage. A traditional garment, for instance, is more than its appearance. Its patterns, colours, materials and manner of use may carry meanings associated with community identity, history, social relationships and particular occasions. A photograph can preserve its visual appearance, but can it communicate the cultural knowledge associated with it? Similarly, recording a traditional story may preserve the storyteller's voice and words, but the meaning of the story may depend on the occasion, the audience, the place and the community's shared understanding. What is preserved digitally may not necessarily retain everything that gives it cultural significance.
The same concern applies when cultural material becomes part of artificial intelligence systems. Once language data, photographs, stories and recordings are collected, they may be processed, reproduced and used in ways that extend beyond their original purpose. Who has the authority to contribute such material? Who verifies whether an AI-generated translation or representation is culturally accurate? Can a traditional design be reproduced without acknowledging its community of origin? What happens when knowledge shared for documentation becomes available for commercial use? Not every story, song, ritual or cultural expression is necessarily meant for unrestricted public access. Making something digitally available should not automatically mean surrendering the community's authority over it.
There is also another dimension that deserves attention. We often discuss how to incorporate our languages and cultures into artificial intelligence, but we should also consider how artificial intelligence may gradually influence the way future generations understand those cultures. Imagine a young person learning about Naga history, traditional attire or community practices primarily through AI-generated descriptions and images. If the information is incomplete, inaccurate or detached from its cultural context, those representations may gradually become accepted as authentic. Technology that initially helps document culture may also begin shaping how culture is remembered, interpreted and represented.
This is why our engagement with AI requires more than technological enthusiasm. It calls for research, cultural understanding and discernment. We need to understand our languages beyond vocabulary and translation, our traditions beyond photographs and our oral histories beyond recordings. The involvement of elders, native speakers, researchers, cultural practitioners and younger generations is important because cultural knowledge does not exist independently of the communities that carry it. Their participation should extend beyond contributing information; it should include a meaningful voice in how that information is interpreted, accessed and used.
This is not an argument against AI or digital preservation. On the contrary, these technologies offer opportunities that Nagas should explore. But we should be careful not to assume that everything capable of being digitised should automatically be digitised, or that everything entered into an AI system will be accurately understood. Technological capability and cultural understanding are not the same thing. We must be willing to examine both the possibilities and the limitations before moving forward.
Our languages, traditional attire, songs, stories and collective memories deserve a place in the digital future. But the future of Naga cultural heritage should not be determined by technological capability alone. It should also be shaped by the people whose lives, memories and relationships give that heritage meaning. The question is not simply whether we can put our culture into artificial intelligence, but whether we have thought carefully about what we are putting there, what may be lost in the process and who retains the authority to interpret it.
The more confidently we bring our heritage into the digital future, the more carefully we must understand what makes it our heritage in the first place.
