It’s amply evident in the manner Manipur remains unable to free itself from the conflict trap that a zero-sum game cannot resolve the crisis. Only a situation that leaves no stakeholder with a sense of defeat or humiliation can pave the way for lasting peace.
Unfortunately, what often ends up lacking in a conflict is a magnanimous gift that humans are supposed to be endowed with—“moral imagination”, as explained by conflict scholar John Paul Lederach. It’s the ability to empathise that makes a human capable of identifying with the pains and joys of other humans, thereby discovering the universality of the human predicament—foremost in tragedy, but also in triumph.
Two years since the violent feud between the Meiteis and Kuki-Zo groups of tribes broke out in Manipur, and three months after the state’s BJP government was kept under animated suspension for president’s rule to take over, the conflict remains unresolved. It must, however, be said that news of gun attacks, which once routinely rattled everybody’s sense of calm and security, have now waned.
The guns may have fallen silent, but this is hardly all there is to peace—for the guns are still in the hands they shouldn’t be in. When the president’s rule was imposed in the state three months ago, the public expectation was that there would be a comprehensive crackdown on both sides of the divide. They had also expected all highways to be opened on both sides so that the buffer zones created at the time of the violent clashes would cease to be.
During the two years of mayhem that occurred while a popular government was in charge, the wide perception was that the state’s authority had evaporated. The expectation was that the president’s rule, free of the pulls and pressures of pleasing electoral constituencies, would be able to reestablish the moral authority of the state. It would be unfair to say that the rule has failed given that it is only three months old—but the fact remains that the state’s authority is still not very clearly visible.
In The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli said a leader must win both the love and the fear of his people; but if keeping both becomes impossible, he cannot afford to let go of the fear. In Manipur today, those entrusted with the authority of the state, are continually losing the love as well as the fear of its subjects. This cannot be anything, but a recipe for disaster.
A lull in violence has not meant the conflict has ended. The grounds are still covered with dry cinders and tensions remain high. A single spark can therefore reignite another inferno. A surge of unrest that the state has been witnessing since May 20 is a manifestation of this.
A group of journalists from Imphal, together with members of the state’s department of information and public relations, were headed to Shirui village in Ukhrul district in a Manipur State Transport bus to cover the opening of the annual Shirui Lily Festival by Governor Ajay Kumar Bhalla when they were stopped by the 4-Mahar Regiment soldiers posted at Gwaltabi village in the foothills 26 km from Imphal.
The soldiers told the journalists they would not be allowed to proceed unless the word Manipur in the signage prominently displayed on the bus was concealed; the soldiers went ahead covering it. The altercation that followed delayed the bus, and as a result, the journalists could not reach the venue in time to cover the governor’s event. Moreover, they felt outraged and insulted that the word ‘Manipur’ was disallowed within the state’s territory, and they walked back to their bases.
In Imphal, the journalist fraternity took out a protest march to the Raj Bhavan and submitted a memorandum seeking explanation. The assumption is that the soldiers were merely carrying out the government order. The protest, however, has spiralled to become a full-blown crisis, with people demanding a public apology from the governor.
It is quite possible that the order to have the word Manipur hidden had no mala fide intentions. Earlier, some Kuki groups had threatened dire consequences to Meiteis travelling along the Ukhrul road, but they had to retract the threat after not just the government, but also the Nagas warned them not to dare disrupt traffic to the Shirui Lily Festival.
Indications are that the government was providing a respectable exit ramp for Kukis to withdraw quietly from their earlier posturing. But the unforgivable blunder was in the way this understanding was executed. The modus operandi should have been for all these negotiated understandings to be put into effect quietly and without fanfare. By inter-departmental communications and understanding, had private vehicles been hired and used for these movements, things probably would have remained normal.
But this caution was thrown to the wind and the government came to be seen as indulging in indiscreet and extremely provocative action by the soldiers on the ground. The extremely vulgar and shocking optics the execution of the order ended up generating is at the core of the current public outrage, that too at a time the state and its people are in an extremely sensitive position. The remedial action is obvious. There must be complete transparency on the matter. The governor should explain what the intent was and what went wrong, and who caused this wrong to happen wilfully or otherwise. Such a response should pave the way for defusing the crisis.
There are a few more lessons from this sorry episode. One is that geography is destiny and those within an integral geography have to learn to accommodate each other for peace to prevail. They have to understand that periodic readjustments to conform to the changing demands of the times are a prerequisite, and that the aggregate of the little sacrifices each party makes to accommodate each other is the guarantee of freedom for all.
Lastly, in any genuine initiative to resolve conflicts, the idea of giving all parties in the conflict honourable exit routes is important. If pushed too far into a corner, even a harmless kitten can get aggressive and dangerous.
This article was first published in The New Indian Express under a different heading. The original can be read HERE
Editor, Imphal Review of Arts and Politics and author
