Aküm Longchari*
First Words
Good morning! Respected Moderator Dr. Kavikato Zhimo, I begin by acknowledging and offering my deep respect to Trinity Theological College, its elders and leaders – past, present and emerging – for being a place of steadfast learning and ‘disciplining the disciples’ to engage in the world.
The Organising Team of this National Seminar has identified a pertinent theme: Decolonising Knowledge: Reclaiming Indigenous Identity as the focal point of this two-day conversation. It is encouraging that a theological institution has initiated such a dialogue. I am grateful for this opportunity to share a reflection. I acknowledge Dr. Chumchano Ovung, the respondent for this session and also extend warm greetings to everyone one gathered here this morning.
As a student of conflict transformation, I am mindful of how issues of colonisation and decolonisation are deeply interconnected and intersect with questions of JustPeace. I would like to contribute to this discourse by synergising a perspective of decolonising knowledge as an emancipative agency of rehumanisation through the writings of scholars, researchers, Indigenous knowledge givers and by incorporating multiple Naga voices.
History has informed us that the relationship between colonisation and knowledge has profoundly implicated all peoples, particularly Indigenous Peoples. In fact, Nicholas Dirks’s incisive observation, that in post-1857 British India, “anthropology supplanted history as the principal colonial modality of knowledge and rule” resonates with most Indigenous Peoples. He points out “the relation of knowledge and rule is not simply a colonial fact,” but “actively celebrated in such colonial projects as the ethnographic survey.” By late 19th century, “the colonial state in India can be characterised as the ethnographic state.” This, he says, “was driven by the belief that India could be ruled using anthropological knowledge to understand and control its subjects, and to represent and legitimate its own mission.” In this sense, “Colonial knowledge was far more powerful than the colonial state ever was.”
The modern world has for the most part been dominated and monopolised by one single narrative based on monocultural values. Derived from one cultural knowledge system, worldview and as victors of war, the “European model” has projected itself as a representation of a “universalised language” and “sole possessor of all solutions to the challenges of our time.” The institutionalisation of this dominant culture created and shaped power structures and systems such as the “Westphalian World Order,” which in turn enforced the Westphalian cognitive empire as the primary political paradigm and practice.
The process of decolonisation is not new. While projected as a political imperative of the 20th century it has been used and reused with varying meanings, connotations and more importantly, caused long lasting implications that spanned generations. Today’s theme, Decolonising Knowledge: Reclaiming Indigenous Identity is crucial for creating space and harnessing synergy for mobilising imaginations across Peoples, Cultures and Boundaries. This is very relevant to the Naga context. An honest and critical engagement with the British colonial project and its impact on the Naga world must not be limited within academia and needs to be included in the broader public discourse. The questions around how to converse about what colonisation and decolonisation mean requires a discerning approach.
Developing a Naga perspective on its pre-colonial status is fundamental to understanding the interplay of its history, geography, and politics. The decolonisation process must involve examining original sources and understanding intentions of colonial documents written by colonial administrators, military officers and missionaries that form the Naga archives. This invariably concerns “the production of an archive of (and for) rule.”
A Word on Colonisation and Decolonisation
In order to have a meaningful conversation on decolonisation, we need to revisit colonisation from an Indigenous perspective. When we look at the epistemology of the word colonisation, Indigenous writer Winona LaDuke tells us that, it has the same root as the word colon, which means to digest. She amplifies this by saying, “Colonisation is a process of digestion of one culture by another through military, economic, political, and religious mechanisms.”
Colonisation can be described as the process of one culture consuming the other. Dirks stresses that “colonial conquest and colonialism was made possible, and then sustained and strengthened, as much by cultural technologies of rule” and “not just the result of the power of superior arms, military organization, political power, or economic wealth.” Even though colonialism itself was a cultural project of control through domination, Dirks laments that the cultural effects of colonialism have too often been ignored and not sufficiently recognised. It underscores the point that “knowledge was what colonialism was all about.”
In essence, the interplay of colonial knowledge and colonial rule were the defining elements of colonisation. The violence of knowledge has been central in controlling the mind. This realisation led Steve Biko, a leader of the Black Consciousness movement in South Africa, to say, “the most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.” Furthermore, the impact of colonisation created conditions of dehumanisation for Indigenous Peoples where it “distorted the vocation of becoming more fully human.” Therefore, the aspiration of rehumanisation is central to decolonisation.
During the 20th century decolonisation was fundamentally about self-determination. Since colonialism was a “stimulus” in its “constructions of the state,” decolonisation efforts were a result of the United Nations (UN) commitment to self-determination. This is clearly reflected in the United Nations General Assembly Resolution 1514 adopted in 1960 – The Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples. This Resolution embraced self-determination as a right and “solemnly proclaims the necessity of bringing to a speedy and unconditional end colonialism in all its forms and manifestations.”
However, since the UN was simultaneously an exclusive club attempting to protect its own interests it complicated the decolonisation process by introducing Resolution 1541, also known as the Blue Water Thesis or the Salt Water Thesis. This Thesis limits the right of self-determination only in situations where “subjection to alien subjugation, domination and exploitation” is from beyond the sea or continent. This meant peoples whose colonising administration was not geographically separated were denied self-determination. Belgium countered the Blue Water Thesis with the strategy that self-determination must be universally available to all subjugated peoples, whether in colonial territories or sovereign states, including newly independent ones. Nonetheless, many Indigenous Peoples were left out of the decolonising process due to real politik and geopolitical adjustments.
Since the symbolic end of the Cold War in 1991, the discourse on decolonisation has become a catch phrase and its application has undergone a significant shift. In the 21st century, the focus of decolonisation is no longer confined to state-determination but encompasses a wider spectrum that defines the peoples’ destiny.
However, Ali Mazrui reminds us that decolonisation does not mean a total rejection of Western culture, jurisprudence and structure nor its knowledge system and certainly is not intended “to glorify indigenous institutions.” For Indigenous Peoples, decolonisation means assuming a “form of emancipatory politics” and providing a transformative framework that promotes harmony with peaceful and just structures founded on shared values, rights and aspirations. Nancy Postero says, “decolonisation requires thinking and speaking from a different locus of enunciation.” Frantz Fanon adds, “It brings a natural rhythm into existence, introduced by new men [and women], and with it a new language and a new humanity.” Ultimately decolonisation is relational, one that influences individuals and communities while fundamentally transforming them.
The Bolivian decolonisation experience under former president Evo Morales strengthens the view that an Indigenous State founded on Westphalian state structures will not emancipate Indigenous Peoples. Rather, it only sustains the status quo and legitimises the state system. Meaningful decolonisation “would require a transformation of the state, a recognition of the political, economic, and cultural practices of previously excluded peoples.” This suggests “reconceptualizing society” in ways that “decolonise both heads and bodies, but mostly heads, ways of thinking” and forms of being.
In order for Indigenous Peoples to recover and rebuild all relationships, they need to begin with what Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o called Decolonising the Mind. To decolonise the self means decolonising the colonial knowledge itself. This brings to public expression questions of identity and self-definition and how it is exercised in relation to others. Decolonisation does not occur in isolation, it is a relational, interactive and interconnected process with human beings and nature. Indigenous knowledge is the seminal starting point because it helps us reopen questions of humanity, self-determination, power, dignity, justice, peace and healing through an evolving framework. This ensures decolonisation is not a domesticated idea confined to sustaining existing structures but creating new ones that reflect values to holistically enhance the human condition.
The Caravan
Allow me to share an illustration I often use to draw out the dilemma Indigenous Peoples are facing. This is adapted from Ali Mazrui’s metaphoric Caravan of Culture. Imagine with me that an Indigenous caravan is meandering towards its own destination under the stars of history. However, during its journey a major interruption takes place. The Indigenous caravan is unaware that another caravan is approaching, seeking to overpower them. A struggle takes place, during which the Indigenous caravan is captured and diverted from its original route. This results in loss of homeland and sovereignty, which itself is a loss of the self.
In time the colonised becomes dependent and looks up to their colonisers even to define who they are – striving to become just like them. In due course, the Indigenous caravan and its people lose their identity and becomes neither wolf nor dog.
And for generations, the Indigenous caravan has been steered to a new and strange destination. Throughout this time, a dialogue has been taking place. However, the decolonisation process of the 20th century occurs simultaneously, interrupting the dialogue. Colonial power is now transferred from the original coloniser to the dominant group within the newly formed independent entity. This does not lead to the emancipation of all peoples. Rather it trapped Indigenous Peoples within the colonial boundaries of emerging new states.
The arbitrary passing of the caravan from the original colonisers to the new one further divided the people from itself. These conditions significantly shifted the caravan from its original route. Today, the Indigenous caravan faces the same old dilemma of whether to:
- Continue in the path of diversion?
- Relocate to the point of diversion and find their original route? or
- Chart a new path of their choosing – a third path which is neither to continue in the same path of diversion, nor to relocate to the point where they were diverted?
Many Indigenous caravans, like the Nagas, seem to be stuck at this intersection of unfinished decolonisation. While some have effectively chosen a path, others have been unsuccessful as they are pulled in all directions resulting in increased internal strife and trauma. Over time, the caravan becomes deeply entrenched and is divided over perceived and real positions. These are increasingly difficult to address as they intersect with intergenerational senses of community relationships and shared belongingness. The inability to constructively address the burdens of history continues to define everyday life and obstructs the way forward.
This illustration of the caravan informs us of the need for Nagas to sufficiently engage with the profound impact of British colonisation. Many Indigenous nations without their own written languages and records of history find it more difficult engaging with decolonisation processes. Since their stories were defined by the colonisers and with no empirical historical reference of their pre-colonial past, they are in danger of losing the ability to chart their own narrative. These conditions highlight the urgency to decolonise and recover their history.
One specific period when the colonial pacification and reorganisation process significantly impacted the Nagas was from 1881 onwards. During that time, Charles Alfred Elliott became Chief Commissioner of Assam and suggested “. . . the appointment of elected headmen, who might . . . become the nucleus of some sort of village organisation, and gradually grow to be possessors of power and authority over the young men of the village. Such a change, from the democratic and independent habits which the people now practice into one of subordination to a council of elders under a village headman, must necessarily be slow, but, if it can be effected, it will be a great help to good government.”
The introduction of new power structures, hierarchy and local management among the Nagas allowed the British to have forms of “indirect rule” using the “minimum resources.” Elliot further stressed “the importance of medical work” and the “civilising and pacifying influence” of schools. The interplay of all these factors, including culture, commerce, policing, and religion, were designed to make the Nagas “regular subjects of the British” who “would not be policed indirectly, but by regular administration.”
Education was a key pacifying influence. Gam Shimray, a leader of the Asia Indigenous Peoples Pact, a regional forum of 46 member organisations from 14 Asian countries, points out that “enforcing education system where none of the Naga values, worldviews and knowledge systems are taught” disrupted Naga epistemology.” He says the “displacement of oral transmission, ritual remembrance and the fragmentation of knowledge where ethics is separated from skill, belief from practice and land from governance” have reduced Nagas into objects of study and “broken the relational ethics between knower and known.” This has eventually led to younger generations “distrusting ancestral knowledge unless validated by outsiders.”
Further critical examination of the Naga experience will inform us that colonial knowledge has been more powerful and impactful than the colonial state. Colonialism in the Naga context produced new forms of power structures, constructed identities and shaped societies that are still taken to be traditional – when they are not. Is this the reason why the State often portrays Nagas as the product of geography rather than history?
With these questions and dilemmas in mind, let us conclude by imagining together a Naga pathway of decolonising knowledge.
In lieu of a conclusion: Imagining a Naga pathway
Historically, the production of colonial knowledge has been central in laying the foundation which negates, misrepresents and commodifies all aspects of Indigenous life. For this reason, emancipation of the self must begin by recovering and revitalising Indigenous knowledge systems through a decolonising lens.
Among the Nagas, there are spectrums of viewpoints. Clearly, the process of creating a shared language is central to decolonisation and rehumanisation. And, to take this dialogue further, four Nagas – a teacher, a philosopher, a journalist, an activist – shared their imagination on decolonising knowledge as shared in this reflection.
All four of them assert that decolonising knowledge means revisiting colonial history and critically examining the way Naga history was written by colonisers. They affirm it requires challenging and undoing colonial ways of imposing knowledge and identity formation which were imposed through colonial rule, also missionary frameworks, and later through dominant national narratives. Much of what is written as ‘history,’ ‘culture,’ or ‘tradition’ about the Nagas was written through the colonial gaze. This requires carefully examining the imposed knowledge to intentionally create the shift from being objects of knowledge to becoming keepers and givers of Naga knowledge.
In actuality, Naga ways of knowing (not just bodies of knowledge) where knowledge is relational, experiential and ethical need to be restored. This recognises the understanding that wisdom and knowledge resides in collective memory and practice, not in individual expertise. Rethinking education and “introducing interdisciplinary curriculum” driven by a “pedagogy that recognises Indigenous worldview” is one approach for restoring ways of knowing. We can think more strategically by asking whether the National Education Policy 2020 framework could be utilised in developing a Naga focused syllabus.
Decolonising knowledge means rethinking our place in the world with the confidence in ourselves as co-creators, protectors and guardians, equally with the rest of humanity. “This involves reclaiming Naga epistemologies — ways of knowing rooted in oral traditions, lived experience, land-based wisdom, customary laws, folk narratives, and indigenous spirituality (even as these coexist with Christianity today).” Questioning why Western or mainland Indian frameworks are treated as universal while Naga knowledge systems are considered “local,” “primitive,” or “informal” is critical. In essence, decolonising knowledge for the Nagas is about redesigning Naga institutions and “creating a framework of epistemic justice by restoring dignity and authority to Naga ways of understanding the world, their past, present, and their future.”
Similarly, they were unanimous in their assertion that decolonising knowledge is a powerful transformative agency of emancipation. It is about nurturing a new liberative narrative of “self-representation where Nagas write their own histories, literature, theology and political narratives” as makers of their own culture.” Decolonising knowledge is a living process that fosters intellectual sovereignty to empower Nagas in imagining and shaping a dignified future by opening spaces for ethical pathways of resistance and renewal.
A genuine reflection will contribute to “reconstituting how Nagas came to know the world and developing new models of knowledge and education where one is encouraged to learn by doing and through apprenticeships models with elders.” Knowledge becomes a ground-up process where its transmission is embedded in daily life and not just in institutions. In this way the relationship of knowledge, ethics and life is strengthened, which in turn enables the unity between what one knows, how one lives, and how one governs.
To move towards decolonising knowledge, Nagas need to embrace simplicity and be mindfully grounded in values to assess our potential to contribute sustainably for a dignified future. Valuing Naga ways of knowing and learning helps to understand our past, political systems, resistance, complex journey with faith and connection to our land. In essence, it changes what is taught because it respects and upholds the knowledge held by the community through oral and traditional practices which become just as important as what is written in history books. All this builds a stronger sense of who we are with a shared purpose, “where one’s identity is constructed and formed by doing and living out its values.”
These Naga voices are persuading us that decolonising knowledge is an intellectual as well as a ground-up socio-cultural, political and spiritual process. It is not about exclusion and rejection. Rather it is an inclusive process of recasting Naga world views, narratives, experiences and epistemologies to address present day needs and aspirations founded upon historical and political rights. Such an emancipatory process requires critical consciousness with an honest self-evaluation of our existing Naga world. A reflective dialogue among Nagas becomes vital for examining how colonial knowledge shaped stereotypes and prejudices, inflicted pain and divisions, so that societal healing and reconciliation is made possible.
In conclusion, listening to these voices inform us that at its core the decolonisation and emancipation of knowledge is the foundational step towards a people’s rehumanisation, which is essential for a shared humanity. With your help let’s imagine anew as we continue to reflect and dialogue across cultures and worldviews. Ultimately, the caravan’s journey for emancipation can move forward only with fellow human beings in “an environment where our choices are self-defining and self-creating.”
* Aküm Longchari (PhD) is the Publisher of The Morung Express. He is a student of Conflict Transformation, and his doctoral thesis was on Self-Determination as a Resource for JustPeace.
This paper was presented at the National Seminar on Decolonising Knowledge: Reclaiming Indigenous Identity organised by Trinity Theological College, Thahekhü, Dimapur. February 5-6, 2026.
