The collapse in Manipur exposes a Constitutional Void

For over two year, Manipur has stood as a grim indictment of the Indian constitutional system—a state consumed by ethnic violence, governmental paralysis, and institutional collapse, with no resolution in sight. More than 250 people have died, thousands have been displaced, and widespread reports of sexual violence have surfaced. Over 30 people are still not traceable. And yet, despite this humanitarian and political disaster, both the state and central governments have proven incapable of reestablishing order. The Manipur crisis has not only exposed a breakdown in governance; it has laid bare the failure of India’s constitutional architecture to respond to the total failure of a federal unit.
At the heart of this crisis is the disturbing reality that even the most powerful constitutional tool available to the Union—the imposition of President’s Rule under Article 356—appears futile or politically untenable. Although the situation in Manipur clearly meets the criteria for invoking this emergency provision, it has not been implemented. The reason lies not in legal ambiguity, but in political convenience. The ruling party governs both at the Centre and in the state, making such an action tantamount to self-indictment. Even if President’s Rule were imposed, past examples from Punjab and Jammu & Kashmir suggest it would offer no guarantee of peace or justice unless accompanied by genuine efforts to address the root causes of conflict.
What emerges from Manipur is a deeper constitutional dilemma: what happens when federalism fails entirely—when a state government is either complicit in or incapable of halting mass violence, when central intervention is ineffective, and when judicial orders fail to translate into administrative action? India’s Constitution, unlike those of some other federations, does not contain clear provisions for such a scenario. There is no legal mechanism for neutral federal intervention that bypasses both partisan state administrations and political calculations at the Centre. The Governor’s office, intended to serve as a constitutional bridge, has failed to exercise any meaningful oversight. The judiciary, while active in directing investigations and offering redress, lacks the executive muscle to enforce on-the-ground change.
Manipur is not merely a law-and-order challenge—it is a constitutional rupture that India has no legal tools to repair. When institutions like the police, civil services, and courts appear either complicit or paralyzed, India resembles a failed state in miniature. And yet, unlike international peacekeeping systems or constitutional provisions in other democracies that allow for neutral takeovers in times of civil breakdown, India has no such safeguard. The Centre may deploy security forces, but without community trust and local coordination, their presence becomes ineffective or, worse, inflammatory.
India also suffers from an astonishingly weak federal crisis management framework. The Inter-State Council, which could have served as a forum for dialogue, is dormant. There is no standing body akin to the National Disaster Management Authority to handle ethnic or political emergencies. The response to Manipur has been reactive at best, with no early-warning systems, no rapid-response protocol, and no empowered institution to prevent escalation. Even judicial activism cannot compensate for the structural void: the Supreme Court’s interventions, however well-intentioned, do not result in preventive governance or systemic correction.
Manipur underscores the urgent need for constitutional reform. India must rethink how it handles state failure. Article 356 requires amendment to ensure it is not wielded arbitrarily but is responsive to genuine breakdowns, ideally assessed by an independent constitutional panel insulated from political considerations. A permanent inter-ethnic conflict resolution body must be established, with authority to intervene early and mediate tensions across states. Most critically, there must be a constitutional provision that allows for temporary federal administration—beyond President’s Rule—when both state and central governance structures fail, monitored by an independent judicial or parliamentary oversight body.
This is not just about one state or one conflict. Manipur is a warning bell that the Indian constitutional framework, as it stands, is not equipped to handle deep, systemic crises within its federal units. The stakes are no longer about one region’s peace and stability—they are about whether the Indian Constitution can uphold its promise to protect all its citizens. If it cannot prevent or even respond to the collapse of law, order, and governance in one state, then the risk is no longer theoretical. The constitutional order itself is under strain. Manipur may not be the last such crisis—but it must be the last one India faces unprepared.