Limhachan Kikon
Rülezo Kohima
Calls for unity sound reasonable enough. But when unity becomes a condition for demanding an early solution, are we building consensus or telling people to stop asking difficult questions?
K Puroh’s article, ‘Demanding an Early Solution Without Unity: Are We Putting the Cart Before the Horse?’, raises a fair concern about division. Yet describing the Naga Youth Movement (NYM) and the Concerned Naga Forum of Nagaland (CNF) as strange bedfellows risks shifting attention from their political questions to their affiliations and conduct. Their methods and motives may be questioned, but that does not answer the questions they raise. Instead of debating their arguments, we risk policing their conduct.
Puroh’s argument carries a censorial implication: by making unity a precondition for demanding progress, it risks turning legitimate dissent into an offence against the collective interest. A call for unity is legitimate; using it to delegitimise dissent is not. Unity cannot be a prerequisite for dialogue when dialogue is itself a means of building unity.
The Naga political question has survived decades of negotiations, agreements and changes of government. If groups remain outside the negotiating process, we cannot complain about their absence while leaving the door shut. Bring them into the kitchen and to the table. Consensus need not precede dialogue; it can emerge from sitting together and working through differences face to face.
Emerging from Fed-Up Nagas, the NYM reflects frustration over slow progress towards implementing the Framework Agreement and the Agreed Position. Its conduct is open to criticism, but impatience is not automatically thuggery. Should its shortcomings become an excuse to avoid the questions it raises? The CNF’s composition also deserves scrutiny, but affiliations alone establish neither duplicity nor principle. Let us judge both groups by their arguments and actions.
Dr SC Jamir’s views deserve a hearing, too. Eleven years after the Framework Agreement and nine years after the Agreed Position, the lack of public clarity raises questions about accountability and political will. If constraints prevent progress, people deserve to know what remains unresolved and why, irrespective of region, tribe or political alignment. Jamir’s role in the 16-Point Agreement and Nagaland’s statehood gives him a perspective worth considering. An inclusive settlement must accommodate the diversity of Naga opinion.
The Government of Nagaland cannot simply wait for every group to reconcile. It must bring stakeholders together, encourage dialogue and make progress visible. The shared realities of the government system under which Nagas live provide a starting point for engagement, however imperfect. If progress is underway, the optics must be visible.
Who speaks for the Naga people, on what authority and with what accountability? A settlement claiming to represent the totality of Naga aspirations cannot remain beyond public scrutiny. Legitimisation demands it. Public scrutiny does not undermine negotiations; it helps establish confidence in their outcome. Through negotiations and political dialogue, the revolutionary path has moved towards a constitutional trajectory. This is hardly lost on the people who continue to watch and wait.
Another uncomfortable question circulates in public conversations: has the unresolved issue itself become a source of political relevance and influence? When it sustains political standing, mobilises support and provides a platform for promises, it is reasonable to ask whether everyone involved has the same incentive to resolve it. This is not evidence of deliberate obstruction, nor an accusation against any individual. It is a question about political incentives that deserves examination. The public has a right to ask whether the will to settle matches the promises.
Any settlement must belong to the Naga people, not one political party. From the 1997 ceasefire under I K Gujral, through Manmohan Singh’s tenure and into Narendra Modi’s government, the process has crossed governments and generations. No party—Congress, the NPF or the BJP—can claim exclusive ownership of a collective achievement. Political credit may be contested; peace must belong to the people.
So, is the cart before the horse? It is a fair question. But after decades of uncertainty, why does the journey remain unfinished? We cannot leave the cart standing until everyone agrees on the road. Unity is not asking dissenters to fall in line; it is making room for legitimate differences. If the destination is a political future shared by the Naga people, the journey must embrace the diversity that future is meant to serve.
