Ngaranmi Shimray
New Delhi
Manipur today is deeply divided. Relations among Meiteis, Kukis, and Nagas have worsened to the point that mistrust shapes daily life. Each community is motivated by its own fears and hopes, but the course of the crisis has not been unavoidable. Much of the blame falls on the dominant political leadership, which, because of its numerical strength and control over the state government, had both the chance and the duty to address competing concerns before they turned into conflict.
The roots of the current crisis go beyond the violence of May 2023. They stem from a structural failure that dates back to the very moment Manipur transitioned to full statehood. The demand for Sixth Schedule status for the “Hill Areas” was raised then, but never conceded. Had Autonomous District Councils (ADCs) under the Sixth Schedule been established, they would have had the constitutional authority to frame laws on customary practices, land, and forest management with the approval of the Governor. Many of today’s flashpoints, especially those concerning land and forests, might well have been avoided.
Instead, the “Hill Areas” were left with statutory district councils under the Manipur (Hill Areas) District Councils Act, 1971, institutions that remain weak, dependent, and ultimately subordinate to the political will of the majority. The constitutional mechanism that was meant to compensate for this, the Hill Areas Committee (HAC) under Article 371-C, has failed in practice. The law recommended by the HAC was not enacted, as majoritarian politics within the state government/assembly prevailed. Over time, this translated into a systematic denial of legislative rights for the hill areas, with profound consequences for governance and development.
Recent developments have only reinforced long-standing grievances. The extension of the MLR&LR Act into parts of Churachandpur and Moreh, without mandatory consultation with the HAC, exemplifies the erosion of constitutional safeguards. These areas later became epicentres of violence in 2023, underscoring how procedural violations can have far-reaching consequences.
Equally troubling are reports surrounding the classification of tribal lands as protected or reserved forests. In Churachandpur, the demolition of settlements in areas suddenly discovered as “protected forest” has raised serious questions about due process. Villagers claim that such classifications were carried out without proper notification or field surveys, leaving them blindsided. Whether isolated or widespread, these actions have deepened the sense of insecurity among tribal communities. Trust in the state government has eroded to an unprecedented low.
The Manipur High Court’s order on the demand for Scheduled Tribe status for the Meitei community further aggravated an already volatile situation. Issued at the motion stage on the very first day of hearing, without representation from affected tribal groups, the order was widely perceived to have been obtained through a manipulated and partisan approach by the respondents. Combined with the state’s apparent endorsement, it contributed to a collapse of confidence that preceded the outbreak of violence.
Nearly three years on, normalcy remains elusive. Despite the formation of a new government, including representation from the Kuki-Zo community, displacement persists. Many officials and civilians from these communities continue to function remotely, unable or unwilling to return to Imphal. This is far from a restoration of order; it is a fragile and unsustainable equilibrium.
With Assembly elections approaching in 2027, the urgency of a political settlement is becoming increasingly apparent. The central government, too, has reasons to seek stability, with key exercises such as the Census, delimitation, and special intensive revisions (SIR) on the horizon. A durable resolution that enables the safe return of displaced populations is no longer just a governance imperative; it is a political necessity.
In this context, the question is not whether reform is needed, but what form it should take. The existing framework under Article 371-C has demonstrably failed. Incremental fixes, such as amending the 1971 District Councils Act, will not address the core issue: the absence of real legislative and administrative autonomy in the “Hill Areas” and the guaranteed embodiment in the Constitution.
Granting Sixth Schedule status emerges as the most viable path forward. It offers a constitutional mechanism to empower ADCs with law-making authority over critical domains such as land, forests, and customary practices, while preserving the territorial integrity of Manipur. Alternatives such as creating a separate Union Territory for specific groups carry far greater political and territorial risks.
However, the mere extension of the Sixth Schedule will not suffice unless it is implemented in both letter and spirit. The central demand of tribal stakeholders is clear: ADCs must have genuine legislative authority, particularly over land and forest governance, including protected and reserved forests. Without this, autonomy will remain nominal.
Land lies at the heart of the conflict. Allegations that tribal lands have been reclassified as government land through forest notifications, alongside attempts to extend land laws or alter legal status, have created a pervasive sense of dispossession. For many in the Kuki-Zo community, these developments are not administrative decisions but existential threats, fueling demands for separate administration.
Against this backdrop, proposals that fall short of constitutional guarantees are unlikely to inspire confidence. Administrative devolution without legislative power will be seen as yet another attempt to defer, rather than resolve, the issue. Meaningful autonomy requires constitutional backing under Article 244-A and the Sixth Schedule.
The coming months will be critical. Tribal leaders, civil society organisations, and student bodies must engage with the constitutional possibilities in detail, ensuring that any proposed framework secures substantive, not symbolic, autonomy. Models such as the Bodoland Territorial Council offer useful reference points, but Manipur’s context demands a solution tailored to its unique realities.
Ultimately, Manipur’s crisis cannot be resolved through force, delay, or half-measures. It requires a political settlement that acknowledges historical grievances while building a shared future. Extending the Sixth Schedule to the “Hill Areas,” with meaningful devolution of powers, may not satisfy every demand, but it represents a pragmatic compromise.
In a state marked by deep divisions, such a compromise may well be the only path to restoring trust, stability, and the possibility of peaceful coexistence.
