Nearly three months after the outbreak of ethnic riots between Meiteis and Kuki-Zo tribes, two of Manipur’s major communities, tensions remain undiminished. Although there are no fresh displacements any longer, relief camps continue to swell: many who found refuge in homes of relatives and friends are now shifting to these community-run shelters.

Meanwhile, a recently-surfaced video of perversity, in which two Kuki women were paraded naked and abused by a Meitei mob on May 4, with one in the mob calling it retributive justice, is beyond condemnation. Manipur is unlikely to be the same again even if normalcy returns.

Currently, there are two lobbies pushing their ideas of a route to peace. One sees the return to normalcy as urgent; once this is guaranteed, dialogues to resolve deeper differences can follow. The other camp has this priority in the reverse and puts the political goal of a separate administration for Kukis as a precondition for peace.

The first is not difficult to understand. As for the second, even if such an administrative arrangement were to be agreed upon for the sake of peace, the idea is already running into walls because of flawed presumptions. Foremost of these flaws is treating this conflict as a bilateral matter between Kukis and Meiteis. This is far from the truth, for the interest of Nagas, the other major ethnic group in Manipur, cannot be taken for granted. Seeking prior consensus of all stakeholders, therefore, is vital if lasting peace is to be won.

Manipur’s 10 Naga legislators have officially made it clear that no territory Nagas consider as theirs should be touched in any separate administrative arrangement for Kukis. Since Kukis are spread in all the districts of Manipur because of a tendency of their villages to slinter and proliferate, this Naga stance will be a spoiler.

Kukis also presumed that Manipur’s endemic hill-valley divide would make Kukis and Nagas, both hillmen, united against Meiteis. This assumption missed the fact that the valley has been a melting pot of identities through the ages, making Meiteis carry attributes, linguistic and cultural, of all communities from the surrounding hills, including those of Kukis. In this, the inherent bond between Nagas and Meiteis goes deep.

In what are probably enactments of the Jungian archetypal memory, Meitei myths of origin point to the Koubru range that they consider being their sacred last station before descending into the valley. Tellingly, at coronation, Meitei kings wore Tangkhul Naga costume. Likewise, the Meitei bridal bed on the wedding night is ritualistically covered with Leirum Phi, a sacred shawl common to Meiteis and Tangkhuls. Meiteis have also retained much of their pre-Hindu, nature-worship traditions and consider forests, wetlands and peaks as sacred abodes of sylvan deities never to be desecrated. Many Naga tribes also hold these forests and peaks as sacred, although Christianity is now overshadowing these older beliefs.

This primal bond has kept Nagas and Meiteis from crossing the red line that can shatter their relationship, even in the face of dangerously bitter face-offs and provocations resulting from differing political aspirations. On May 3, both Kukis and Nagas were in a protest rally against the Meiteis’ demand for inclusion in the scheduled tribe list, but only Kukis crossed this red line at Torbung in Churachandpur district, going on an arson spree against Meitei villages on the basis of a rumour that Meiteis had burnt down a Kuki war memorial. The savagery the state has descended into today is the consequence.

Nagas have distanced themselves from the Kuki cause in this fight, rendering hollow the familiar conflict templates of tribals vs non-tribals, Christians vs Hindus, minority vs majority, readily lapped up by reporters and commentators of the crisis, including the European Parliament in its Manipur resolution. Kukis and Meiteis must realise that they alone, not the self-righteous voices from outside, can end their mutual tragedy by rediscovering their old ties.

Pradip Phanjoubam is editor, Imphal Review of Arts and Politics