Going Beyond Politics to Solve the Manipur Problem

Recognition, fame, and financial security to all — Meiteis, Zo Kukis, and Tangkhul Nagas – could provide a way out

In what was a significant decision, on 17 March 2025, a three-judge bench of the Supreme Court, led by Chief Justice Sanjiv Khanna and comprising Justices Sanjay Kumar and Joymalya Bagchi, directed the Union of India to carry out the delimitation exercise in the northeastern states of Manipur, Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh, and Assam within three months.

This direction was issued in response to a writ petition filed by the Delimitation Demand Committee representing these four states. But, the fact that the state is under President’s Rule and the law-and-order situation is extremely tense could well serve as an alibi to buy more time — but the question is, for how long? More importantly, is there any light at the end of this very dark tunnel?

Let’s consider the background of the case. The Delimitation Act of 2002 and the Delimitation (Amendment) Act of 2003 established the procedure for redrawing the boundaries of legislative assembly and Lok Sabha constituencies. Accordingly, a Delimitation Commission was constituted, chaired by Justice Kuldip Singh (a retired Supreme Court judge), with BB Tandon, an Election Commissioner, nominated by the Chief Election Commissioner, and the State Election Commissioner of the concerned states or Union Territories as ex officio members.

While the delimitation exercise was completed in most parts of the country, five states were exempted: Jammu and Kashmir, Assam, Nagaland, Arunachal Pradesh, and Manipur. J&K’s exemption was due to its special status under Article 370, which meant Article 170 (relating to delimitation) did not fully apply. The last delimitation exercise in J&K was conducted in 1995 based on the 1981 census. Furthermore, the J&K Assembly passed a law in 2001 to suspend delimitation until after the 2026 census.

The remaining four northeastern states were exempted under Section 10A of the Delimitation Act, 2002, which allowed the President to defer delimitation if it appeared that the unity and integrity of the country were under threat or if there was a serious risk to public order.

It is important to note that redrawing constituencies does not mean increasing or decreasing the total number of seats. That count was frozen by the 42nd Amendment (1976) and the 84th Amendment (2001), under the premierships of Indira Gandhi and Atal Bihari Vajpayee respectively. Section 4 of the Delimitation Act, 2002 clearly states: “the division of each State into territorial constituencies for the purpose of elections to the House of the People and to the State Legislative Assembly on the basis of the census figures as ascertained at the census held in 2001.”

However, even this redrawing — based on shifts in elector populations and the reorganisation of district or tehsil boundaries — opened a Pandora’s box, especially in states with fragile demographic balances spread across complex geographies.

Examples from Uttarakhand, West Bengal, and Punjab

This columnist was a Secretary to the Government of Uttarakhand when the Delimitation Commission’s report significantly altered the political balance between the hill districts and the plains—namely, Dehradun, Haridwar, and Udham Singh Nagar. In the first elections to the Uttaranchal Assembly (as Uttarakhand was known until 1 January 2007), held in March/April 2002, there were 42 seats from the hills and 28 from the plains. By 2007, this changed to 36 and 34 respectively, nearly equalising representation and causing major disaffection in the hill regions.

Delimitation also involves redistricting. The author witnessed first-hand how ruling parties — CPM in West Bengal, Akali Dal and BJP in Punjab, and the Congress in Uttarakhand — manipulated tehsil and municipal boundaries to preserve dominance or weaken the opposition. Though unethical, these moves were legally permissible.

The author’s home constituency of Kapurthala, which for decades had been part of the Jalandhar parliamentary seat (traditionally a Congress stronghold), was shifted to Khadur Sahib, favouring the then-ruling Akali Dal. Kapurthala and its subdivision Phagwara have always been part of the Doab — the region between the Sutlej and Beas — whereas Khadur Sahib belongs firmly to Majha, beyond the Beas.

Presidential Order of 2008

While such disruptions were widespread, the northeast saw an avalanche. The foundational document for delimitation — the 2001 Census — was itself called into question. The Manipur Pradesh Congress Committee approached the Guwahati High Court to stop the process, citing discrepancies in census data, particularly in three sub-divisions of Senapati district (Mao-Maram, Pao Mata, and Purul), which had allegedly grown over 120% between 1991 and 2001.

The court ordered a household demographic survey—which remains incomplete. Meanwhile, the BJP also intervened, arguing that delimitation should await the completion of the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam and Manipur.

Manipur’s longest-serving Chief Minister, Okram Ibobi Singh (Congress), wanted to approach the Supreme Court but was advised by jurist Ram Jethmalani to seek a legislative amendment instead. It is reliably learned that both the forwarding letter and the draft amendment were prepared in Jethmalani’s office.

Under UPA-1, with Shivraj Patil as Home Minister and Pratibha Patil as President, the Delimitation Act was amended in January 2008. This allowed the President to defer delimitation in Assam, Arunachal Pradesh, Manipur, and Nagaland. On February 8, 2008, the President issued an order indefinitely deferring delimitation based on the 2001 Census, citing risks to the “delicate social equilibrium” in Manipur that could “cause alienation among different ethnic groups.” The order further noted that delimitation could trigger “ethnic clashes” and “large-scale violence,” including threats to “sovereignty and territorial integrity of India.”

This deferment remained in effect until February 2020, when President Ram Nath Kovind rescinded the order, paving the way for delimitation in all five states. By then, Article 370 had been revoked, and the law-and-order situation had improved considerably in the Northeast.

However, the current phase of violence in Manipur began on 3 May 2023, after the high court directed the state government to consider granting Scheduled Tribe status to the Meiteis. This alarmed the Kuki-Zo highlanders, who feared losing their share of affirmative action benefits.

Needless to say, all three major ethnic groups in Manipur—the Meiteis, the Tangkhul Nagas, and the Zo Kukis — are caught in a contest for political power. Perhaps the way forward lies in the realms of culture, sports, entrepreneurship, and scholarship — looking ahead to a shared future rather than a fractured past.

In that spirit, the Shirui Lily Festival (20-24 May) offered, perhaps, a glimmer of hope for conciliation. After all, not every solution lies within the domain of politics.

The Shirui Lily or Lilium mackliniae, the state flower of Manipur, grows best in its natural habitat – the hills of Shirui Kashung. The hills are also the source of the Maklang river system and its tributaries, important both for irrigating the rice fields and for the plentiful harvest of fish.

Situated at a height of 2,835 m above sea level in the predominantly Tangkhul Naga district of Ukhrul, the hamlet is 18 km from the district headquarters and 97 km from the state capital of Imphal. When the three-feet-tall, bluish-pink bell-shaped lily was first displayed at the Royal Horticultural Society exhibition at Chelsea, UK, by the world-famous botanist Frank Kingdon-Ward in 1948, it was described as a ‘botanical marvel’.

Kingdon-Ward had spent years traversing the frontier regions of the Northeast and had also been briefly arrested by the Tibetan government in 1935. His arrest led to British India reasserting its rights on areas demarcated by the McMahon Line that had been signed in 1914 in Shimla (then called Simla). Kingdon-Ward named the flower after his wife, Lilium Macklin.

In the Tangkhul oral tradition, the lily “Kashong Timrawon”, was named after Timrawon, the daughter of mythical goddess Philava, the protector of the hills. And then the story takes three different turns.

In the first, Timrawon was also a goddess who blessed her devotees with prosperity, beauty, kindness, and fulfilment. In the second, she lived on the hill with her lover Shirui, and after her death, he appears every year to mark his presence on the soil where she lies buried. The third story is that as she was divine, but he was mortal, their love could never be consummated, and so the two lovers jumped off the cliff. The flower represents sacrifice and eternal love in the state of Manipur.

The beauty of the oral tradition is that new stories are made and passed down over generations – but all tales hold the lily with wondersome awe, reverence, love, affections, and a sense of personal belongingness. When the flower blooms — from mid-May to the first week of June — the community holds an annual Shirui Lily festival. Over the years, the festival has received the support of the state government and now attracts thousands of music, art, and horticulture aficionados from across the country and abroad.

As the 2023 and 2024 editions of the festival could not be held on account of the challenging law and order situation in the state, the interest and expectation for this year’s conclave is quite high. The district administration of Ukhrul this time confirmed the participation of several bands from across the country. Inner Sanctum from Bengaluru, Arogya from Sikkim/Guwahati, Magdalene from Mizoram, Divine Connection from Nagaland and Gingerfeet from Kolkata. Then there was Alive from Meghalaya and High Volt from the state itself. The Israeli band Orphaned Land had also sent in its confirmation.

Representatives of all three major communities – the Meiteis, the Nagas, and the Kukis — confirmed their participation in which a free, frank, and fair exchange of views, including their apprehensions about each other, could have been discussed.

The issues remain contentious: the Meiteis are concerned about the growing population of Kukis-Zos, especially in the three subdivisions of Senapati district, and both Nagas and Kukis are concerned about the extension of ST status to the Meiteis. They worry that if the extension is provided, it will reduce employment opportunities for the highlanders.

When it comes to political representation, the Meiteis — who constitute 54 per cent of Manipur’s population — hold 40 out of the 60 seats in the state assembly, giving them complete control over the state’s financial resources. The highlanders who make up 43 per cent get only 20 seats. Manipur is not covered either under the Fifth or Sixth schedule, which deals with the administration of tribal dominated areas in the Northeast.

This longstanding demand to include Manipur in the Fifth or Sixth schedule has merit, and can probably be the first step in the reconciliation process. This must be supplemented with a forceful crackdown on unauthorised cultivation of poppy, which needs to be replaced by a financial and technical assistance package to promote remunerative high-value agriculture — replete with new market-friendly cultivars, high-density plantations, and micro irrigation.

Additionally, the scope of discussion could include granting temporary refugee status to those displaced by political violence in Myanmar. Regardless of the nature of the regime in the neighbouring country, our engagement with it — for the swift completion of the 1,736 km-long Stilwell Road and to curb cross-border narcotics trade — is imperative for our own security needs.

If required, India could offer a financial package for the return of refugees to their villages in Myanmar. We cannot look at the intersection of ethnicity and frontiers through the rigid Westphalian lens of the nation state. Arjuna Awardee, Padma Vibhushan, former (nominated) Rajya Sabha member, Mary Kom, best described the significance of tribal identity over all affiliations. “One of the greatest motivating forces for me has been my desire to assert the identity of my tribe, Kom. Within my country, and world over,” she had said. Incidentally, Kom is neither Meitei nor Kuki-Zo – yet today she is the most recognised face of Manipur.

Beyond political template

More Manipuris deserve to become icons in the fields of sports and music. Legend has it that modern polo’s origin story is linked to the state. Ashish Kundra wrote in his book, A Resurgent Northeast: Narratives of Change, that there are over 1,000 community-run sports clubs, with football being a big draw in Manipur. The state can become the hub of a new sporting culture with academies for polo, boxing, archery, football, rugby, and wrestling coming up in the different districts.

How about schools of music and academies devoted to the classical Manipuri dance form? The government can establish learning and capability centres for taking up top emerging positions in the world of IT, pharma, and biotechnology.

Recognition, fame, and financial security — for both individuals and communities — need not be linked only to political representation or government jobs. These are important, yes. But they are not the be-all and end-all of life. There is a world beyond the political template.

(Sanjeev Chopra is a former IAS officer and Festival Director of Valley of Words. Until recently, he was director, Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration)