In a state as ecologically fragile and geopolitically sensitive as Manipur, one would expect the government to hold dear every inch of its cultivable land, wetlands, and forest cover. However, the ground reality today paints a dismal picture of institutional apathy, selective enforcement of laws, and a mounting ecological crisis. The continued violation of the Manipur Conservation of Paddy Land and Wetland (2nd Amendment) Act, 2021, coupled with the government’s blatant failure to protect Reserved Forests, Protected Forests, and other government lands, raises disturbing questions about the state’s priorities.
The Manipur Conservation of Paddy Land and Wetland Act was enacted with the intent of protecting the state’s depleting agricultural base — a base vital not only for food security but also for cultural continuity and rural livelihoods. The 2nd Amendment in 2021 only reaffirmed the urgency of conserving these precious resources. Yet, across the valley districts, paddy fields are being leveled at an alarming rate to make way for concrete jungles, brick kilns, private schools, and other commercial ventures. In blatant disregard of the Act, these conversions are carried out without approvals from competent authorities, with the State government often choosing to look the other way.
This unchecked land conversion directly undermines the agricultural economy of Manipur. Traditional farmers are either coerced or tempted into selling their lands, often with no viable alternatives. In the long run, this not only leads to food insecurity but also forces rural outmigration, further destabilizing the social fabric. The failure to implement even basic surveys and satellite monitoring to identify violations reflects the government’s lack of political will.
On the other hand, the condition of Reserved and Protected Forests in the hill districts of Manipur is even more distressing. These forest lands, which are supposed to be under the strict protection of the Forest Department, are being systematically encroached upon. Settlements, illegal constructions, poppy plantations, and deforestation have all eaten into what little forest cover remains. In many areas, reserved forests have been turned into de facto homesteads without any legal titles, approvals, or environmental assessments.
Worse still, these acts of encroachment are often shielded under the pretext of ethnic rights or customary land use — a narrative that is increasingly contributing to the volatile crisis engulfing the state. While genuine concerns over ancestral lands should be heard, they cannot justify the illegal grabbing of forest lands that are legally protected under central and state laws. If anything, these unchecked encroachments have added fuel to the ethnic tension, as land becomes a pawn in the larger political chessboard of demographic assertion.
The Forest Department, which should ideally act as a watchdog, has become toothless. There is no clear record of how many hectares of Reserved Forests have been encroached upon. Legal action, if taken at all, remains symbolic. In some cases, political patronage shields violators; in others, the authorities conveniently cite “law and order” concerns to avoid confrontation.
The dual failure — to protect agricultural lands in the valley and forest areas in the hills — represents a systemic collapse in governance. The government cannot continue to remain a silent spectator. It must act, not just for environmental preservation, but to restore public trust. Satellite-based mapping, digital land records, and transparent enforcement must become routine administrative practice. Equally crucial is political courage — the will to take action against both powerful real estate interests and illegal encroachers regardless of their community or influence.
Manipur cannot afford to sacrifice its land and forest resources at the altar of expediency and populist politics. What is at stake is not merely legal compliance, but the very future of the state — its ecology, its food security, and its inter-community harmony.
This is the time for decisive action. Laws must be upheld, land-use violations penalized, and public awareness mobilized. If the government continues down this path of negligence, the cost will not just be environmental degradation — it will be a deeper, more permanent fracture in the state’s unity and sustainability. The question is — will those in power finally act, or will they wait until there is nothing left to protect?