The Government of Manipur would like the public to believe that the meeting between Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh and representatives of the Zomi community marks the beginning of a new chapter in the State’s reconciliation process. The images from the Chief Minister’s bungalow in Imphal certainly conveyed hope. Leaders who had remained politically distant since the ethnic violence erupted in May 2023 were once again seen engaging in dialogue.
Yet, almost simultaneously, another reality unfolded.
According to media reports, two Meitei youths were detained after allegedly crossing a buffer zone in a Kuki-inhabited area before being handed over to the police. Whether the youths crossed intentionally or inadvertently is not the central issue. The more important question is why civilians continue to be intercepted by community volunteers more than three years after the conflict began.
These two incidents, occurring virtually side by side, expose the uncomfortable truth that Manipur today functions under two different realities. One is the political narrative presented by the government—a narrative of dialogue, reconciliation and normalisation. The other is the reality experienced by ordinary citizens, where movement remains restricted, buffer zones continue to divide the State, and informal systems of authority appear to operate alongside constitutional institutions.
This contradiction cannot simply be dismissed as an isolated security incident. It reflects the failure of the State to translate political engagement into constitutional governance.
The primary foremost constitutional obligation of a government is to ensure that every citizen enjoys equal protection under the law and equal access to every part of the State, subject only to restrictions imposed through lawful authority. When a citizen’s movement depends not only on the law but also on the acceptance of local community groups, the authority of the State itself comes into question.
More than three years later, the so called buffer zones have evolved into visible reminders of administrative paralysis rather than instruments of peace.
Even more troubling is the gradual normalisation of this abnormal situation. Citizens have begun to accept that crossing certain parts of Manipur requires informal approval, security escorts or extraordinary precautions. Such acceptance represents perhaps the greatest danger of all, because it lowers public expectations of what constitutional governance should guarantee.
The reconciliation process also appears to suffer from a fundamental misconception. The government seems to believe that peace can be negotiated primarily through meetings with influential organisations and community leaders. Such engagement is undoubtedly necessary, but leadership dialogue alone does not constitute reconciliation.
The continued dependence on buffer zones suggests that the government has succeeded only in preventing large-scale confrontation, not in restoring normal civil administration. Conflict management is not conflict resolution. A ceasefire mentality cannot become public policy.
Equally concerning is the ambiguity surrounding the State’s monopoly over law enforcement. Under a constitutional democracy, the authority to detain individuals rests with legally empowered agencies. Whenever local volunteer groups become the first point of enforcement in sensitive areas, regardless of subsequent police involvement, the public inevitably perceives a diffusion of State authority. That perception alone undermines confidence in the rule of law.
The political optics of the Chief Minister’s meeting therefore deserve closer scrutiny. While the gathering may signal an encouraging willingness among Zomi leaders to engage with the government, it cannot by itself be presented as evidence that reconciliation is progressing. Symbolic gestures are valuable only when accompanied by measurable improvements in governance. Citizens judge peace not by photographs of meetings but by whether they can move freely, conduct business safely, and trust public institutions equally.
If anything, the juxtaposition of these two events demonstrates how fragile the present situation remains. One event represented political optimism; the other exposed administrative reality. Together, they reveal a reconciliation process that has yet to penetrate beyond conference halls and official residences.
The people of Manipur deserve more than carefully choreographed images of dialogue. They deserve a government capable of restoring constitutional order throughout the State. That means progressively dismantling the conditions that make buffer zones necessary, strengthening impartial policing, rebuilding public confidence across ethnic lines, ensuring that the law—not community affiliation—determines a citizen’s rights, and creating conditions where every Manipuri can move freely without fear or suspicion.
History will not judge this government by the meetings it organised. It will judge it by whether those meetings restored the rule of law, reunited divided communities, and rebuilt a State fractured by one of the gravest internal conflicts in independent India’s history.
Until that transformation becomes visible on the ground, reconciliation will remain a promise, not a reality.
