Vithukali A Assumi
Student, Tetso College
There is a silence we have grown comfortable with. It is the silence of a people who speak loudly about sovereignty and identity, yet whisper nothing about the decay festering within. The Naga people have long taken pride in their distinct history, their fierce spirit, and a shared dream. Today, that dream lies fractured, not only by external forces, but increasingly by our own failures.
Let us be honest, for once, without the shield of tribal loyalty, political affiliation, or personal gain.
THE TRIBAL TRAP
Walk into any government office or hiring committee and one quickly notices the invisible hand of tribal arithmetic at work. Merit bows before ethnicity. Competence yields to community. We have built walls among ourselves that no coloniser could have designed more effectively.
Tribal organisations, originally formed to protect community interests, have in many cases evolved into pressure groups serving political masters. Instead of building Nagaland, they are too often busy building their own spheres of influence.
THE FACTION FARCE
For decades, competing armed factions have held the Naga political aspiration hostage. Extortion runs parallel to governance. The Indo-Naga peace process, which began with immense promise, has dragged on for over two decades without an honourable resolution. Too often, factions negotiate not for the people but for positions, power, and the preservation of their own relevance.
Backroom dealings and deliberate vagueness are not diplomacy. They are betrayal disguised as statesmanship. The voice of the youth is not a threat to be managed. It is a verdict to be heard.
THE POLITICAL FAILURE
Elected representatives have, by and large, failed the people. Governments are formed not on ideology or vision, but on the arithmetic of tribal balance and factional appeasement. We elect leaders and then watch them dissolve into the very system they once promised to change, indistinguishable from those they replaced. As Lord Acton once observed, power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Public outrage lasts a news cycle, and then silence returns.
THE SACRED AND THE CORRUPT
Perhaps the most painful fragmentation is the one occurring within our moral institutions. The church in Nagaland has long served as the backbone of community life, the voice of conscience, and the final source of moral authority. That authority now appears compromised in some quarters. Under the cover of righteousness, vested interests often thrive. Unexplained wealth finds its way into influence and construction. The pulpit, once a platform for truth, risks becoming a shield for those who profit from the suffering of ordinary Nagas. Principled individuals are abandoning their ideals not because they were born corrupt, but because the system rewards greed and punishes integrity.
Nagaland does not merely need better politicians. It needs better people in positions of influence, people who value legacy over personal gain.
WHO BENEFITS?
Who benefits from a fragmented Naga society? Not the farmer waiting for a road. Not the student who cannot find employment without the endorsement of the right community elder. Not the mother who sends her child to a school without teachers.
Fragmentation serves those in power who thrive in a divided landscape where accountability cannot be fixed on any one shoulder.
A MESSAGE TO THE ELDERS
To the elders of our society, the keepers of memory, wisdom, and tradition, this is a moment that calls for moral courage. In Naga society, elders have never merely been the oldest in the room. They have been the conscience of the community, the voice that guides the young, and the authority that preserves unity. Today, that responsibility is more urgent than ever.
The youth are watching, not only what is said, but what is practised. Unity cannot be preached while tribal divisions are reinforced. Integrity cannot be demanded while silence is maintained in the face of wrongdoing. This is the time for elders to rise above faction, tribe, and political convenience, and to lead by example.
Teach the young the true meaning of Naga history, sacrifice, and collective identity. Remind them that our inheritance is not division, but dignity.
THE PUBLIC MUST RISE
For too long, the ordinary Naga citizen has watched from the sidelines, shaking their heads in private while nodding in public. That complicity must end.Every time a vote is sold for a few thousand rupees, democracy dies a little. Every time a community stays silent to avoid going against the tribe, justice retreats. As Edmund Burke warned, the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.
Write. Speak. Organise.
Elections without voice, leadership without merit, and loyalty bought by money are not democracy. They are tyranny clothed in legitimacy. When cash is distributed before elections and young people are recruited into factions with the promise of income, the soul of Nagaland is being auctioned piece by piece.
Do not sell it. No amount of money offered today is worth the Nagaland stolen tomorrow.
A RECKONING, NOT A RETREAT
This is not a counsel of despair. The Naga people have survived colonial subjugation, decades of conflict, and repeated political betrayal. That resilience is real. But resilience without reckoning leads only to survival, not transformation. As Abraham Lincoln once said, a house divided against itself cannot stand. Nagaland has been divided long enough. The Naga public must demand more. More from their leaders. More from their representatives. More from themselves.
It is time to build. Not walls between us, but a foundation beneath us.
The author is a concerned citizen writing in the public interest. Views are personal.
