JOIN US'Two Nagalands': Dubious duality and a tragedy
If Vir Das looks to Nagaland, the welcoming mountainous north-east Indian state with a history of the longest surviving insurgency in Asia, the stand-up comic cannot run short of material for a 'two Nagalands' monologue. The dubious duality of Nagaland's state of affairs is indeed a joke. But it isn't funny anymore. Instead, there is grief and anger as fresh corpses of innocents open up old wounds.
I come from 'two Nagalands'. One Nagaland where high-ranked officers of Indian Army dance hands clasped with Konyak Naga tribespeople clad in traditional warrior attires wielding machetes and firing sporadically from their indigenous muzzle-loading guns. Konyaks are known for their traditional gunsmithing and gunpowder-making skills. Every family, especially in villages, owns at least one muzzle-loading gun. Many Indian Army officers have merrily tried firing the traditional firearms at least once.
The other Nagaland where elite para commandos can indiscriminately gun down innocent civilians (Konyak Naga villagers of Oting Village) in the Konyak heartland, because according to them, "a rifle-like thing" was supposedly being carried by one of the eight victims.
A Nagaland where India's Home Ministry officials sip tea with Naga insurgents (defined as militants or terrorists by the security forces) and the latter involve themselves in Indian electoral politics. This is the Nagaland where the Government of India doles out ceasefire agreements to a new insurgent faction every other year; insurgent groups run parallel governments "taxing" Indians — both Nagas and non-Nagas — under the garb of continuing ceasefires and peace parleys. All under the "watchful eye" of New Delhi. It is another Nagaland where despite the ever-progressing peace talks and lavish overground existence of undergrounds, the draconian Armed Forces Special Protection Act (AFSPA) meant to counter "terrorism" continues to be in force since 1958. It gives unbridled power to the security forces and brings terror to the hearts of the common people. In this Nagaland, the AFSPA is in force on the pretext of it being a disturbed area due to the activities of the same insurgents.
Then there is a Nagaland where a dreaded militant with a hefty bounty on his head for killing 18 Indian soldiers is under the protection of India's Home Ministry, able to conduct peace talks and facilitate the Indo-Naga political solution. In another Nagaland, the AFSPA gives security forces the impunity to shoot to kill on mere suspicion. Both are justified by the Centre in the name of bringing peace to the land.
A Nagaland where the governor pays glowing tributes to Naga leader, the late Dr Imkongliba Ao, by installing his bust in the Raj Bhavan, and commits to building a Nagaland of Dr Ao's dream, "a happy and prosperous state in which our youth, free from every kind of fear, apprehension or inhibition." Yet this is also the Nagaland still under the AFSPA, which spells only fear and apprehension.
One Nagaland where Naga politicians spend crores to get elected and form the government, and the opposition joins the government to strengthen it. And it's another Nagaland, where the same government buckles now and then under pressure of civil societies and goes weak-kneed every time New Delhi summons. All in the name of ushering peace and prosperity to the state.
There is a Nagaland where a small village (Oting) has the nerve to caution security forces that they would lose their heads next time such a heinous crime is perpetrated on their land. In the other Nagaland, the government doesn't dare even to request the Friends of the Hill People (Assam Rifles) to stay off the roads for a few hours to respect the sentiments of the people protesting the killings with a complete statewide bandh. Meanwhile, the Oting village has barred both the Naga insurgent groups and Indian soldiers from entering the jurisdiction of their village.
One Nagaland is where ethnicity is glorified, and Naga villagers in their traditional finery are proudly displayed as the "authentic and exotic Nagaland" for the benefit of tourists. The other Nagaland is where the same villagers are forgotten through most of the year -- ethnic culture swapped for western culture-influenced glitz and glamour.
In this quagmire of unsettling duality, coercive control, callous policies and politics of both the Centre and state, the tragedy unfolded in Nagaland on December 4 and 5. To call the murder of 14 citizens an "unfortunate incident" and "botched up ops" is itself a big joke. The political class is again trying to pull a fast one on the people by blaming the tragedy on mistaken identity and faulty intelligence. It is straight-up a policy failure and apathy. Perhaps the para commando unit was carrying out its duty, or a so-called "surgical strike" — albeit questionably without following protocols — and messed up. But they wouldn't dare be so audacious without the impunity provided by the AFSPA. Directing all anger at the security forces would be a folly Nagaland and the other states where the AFSPA is in force can hardly afford to endure.
Despite the huge uproar created by the Nagaland killings, it is unlikely the AFSPA would be repealed. The Narendra Modi government has already eaten its share of the humble pie in 2021 by rolling back the farm laws. Moreover, Nagaland doesn't have the numbers in Parliament like Uttar Pradesh, which goes to the polls soon.
Not much is expected from Nagaland's current crop of politicians who are yet to show spine. The Modi government has got Nagaland's ruling class on a short leash.
Nagas don't expect much from the insurgents, known as Naga National Workers, either. Their guns have claimed the lives of many innocent Nagas too. In all probability, the insurgent groups would use the tragedy as a bargaining chip.
But this time around, the people are angry and deeply hurt. Tragic tales of lives claimed by the AFSPA are being retold and shared, memories of living under the shadow of the gun being revisited. The Konyaks, whose traditional lands border Myanmar and Arunachal Pradesh, are seething.
As Bonnie Konyak, a former journalist, writes in her poignant post on Facebook: "I understand you want to share our pain, but you do not know its depths, you never will. I know you think we are mourning for our brothers who lost their lives on December 4th and 5th, but our grief goes beyond the gruesome massacre of that fateful night; we are lamenting not just lives, but generations of lives sacrificed at the altar of a cause the memory of which now eludes us."
(Kallol Dey is a freelance journalist based in Nagaland)
Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.
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