The contrast is stark and deeply disturbing. On October 10, more than 30,000 security personnel were reportedly deployed in New Delhi to contain the proposed protest by the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), with barricades, detentions and restrictions imposed across parts of the national capital. In Manipur, meanwhile, violence continued to claim lives in the hill districts, houses were reportedly set ablaze, and fear remained a daily reality for ordinary citizens. The contrast raises a fundamental question: why can the state mobilise an extraordinary security apparatus to prevent a protest in the national capital, yet appear unable to guarantee lasting peace and security in a state that has endured prolonged violence? Reports put the security deployment in Delhi at between 25,000 and 35,000 personnel.
The issue is not whether Delhi should maintain law and order. Every government has a responsibility to prevent violence and protect public safety. The real question is whether the same urgency, political will and administrative determination are being applied to protect citizens in Manipur. Security arrangements that can be mobilised on a massive scale for a political protest should also inspire confidence when people in a conflict-affected state fear for their lives, homes and livelihoods.
Recent violence in Manipur’s hill districts, including reports of killings, arson and continuing tension, has once again exposed the fragility of the security situation. The killing of civilians cannot be reduced to another routine law-and-order incident, nor can the burning of homes be treated as an unfortunate but inevitable consequence of ethnic conflict. Each death represents a failure to protect a citizen; each displaced family is a reminder that peace remains elusive.
The constitutional promise of India means little to citizens who cannot move freely, live safely in their homes or depend on the state for protection. The rights to life, liberty and equality are not privileges to be granted selectively according to geography, political influence or the convenience of those in power. When people remain exposed to recurring violence, the government must answer not merely with assurances, but with demonstrable results.
Against this grim backdrop, the ruling BJP’s political campaign demanding the resignation of Congress MP Professor Bimol Akoijam has added another troubling dimension to Manipur’s public discourse. BJP leaders staged a protest in Imphal on October 10, turning the controversy surrounding the MP into a demand for political and moral accountability.
The allegations and the university proceedings involving Akoijam must be assessed through a fair process, on the basis of evidence and applicable rules. No public figure should be exempt from accountability, but neither should allegations become an instrument for trial by political campaign. The question is one of consistency: will the same determination displayed in demanding an opposition MP’s resignation be applied to securing justice for victims of violence, holding perpetrators accountable and restoring public confidence in the administration?
Political parties are entitled to question their opponents. But when citizens are being killed and homes destroyed, political messaging cannot substitute for governance. The BJP’s campaign risks appearing profoundly misplaced if it commands public attention while the immediate concerns of security, justice and rehabilitation remain unresolved. The people of Manipur need answers about their safety, not merely another round of partisan confrontation.
The responsibility, however, extends beyond the state government. The Centre cannot treat Manipur’s continuing violence as a regional problem to be managed through periodic statements and security reviews. Its constitutional and political responsibility demands sustained engagement, coordination with state authorities, credible investigations, accountability for those responsible and a practical roadmap for restoring peace. Silence, delay or the appearance of indifference will only deepen public alienation.
The comparison with Delhi is not an argument against protecting the right to protest. It is an indictment of a system that risks appearing more responsive to an immediate political-security challenge in the capital than to the prolonged suffering of citizens elsewhere. A government’s priorities are revealed not only by the forces it deploys, but also by the crises it allows to persist.
Manipur cannot be expected to live indefinitely between funerals, fear and political rhetoric. Peace cannot be declared into existence, nor can constitutional rights survive on paper alone. The Centre and the state government must demonstrate that every life matters equally, regardless of location or political affiliation. Until security becomes a lived reality for the people of Manipur, claims of normalcy will remain hollow—and every new political spectacle will sharpen the question of who is governing, and for whose protection.