Today marks three years since violence first erupted in Manipur on May 3, 2023. What was initially described as a breakdown of law and order has since hardened into a protracted humanitarian and political crisis. Yet, even after this passage of time—and despite at least 270 lives lost—there is still no official, authoritative account of how the violence began, who failed, and why it continues. The continued delay of the Centre-appointed Commission of Inquiry is not just administrative inefficiency; it is symptomatic of a deeper unwillingness to confront accountability.
The Commission, constituted on June 4, 2023, was mandated to submit its findings within six months. Instead, it has missed four deadlines and now seeks yet another extension until May 20, 2026. This is not a minor procedural lapse. In any conflict, time erodes evidence, weakens testimonies, and entrenches competing narratives. Justice delayed in such circumstances is not merely justice denied—it becomes justice diluted beyond recognition.
More troubling is the apparent reluctance to examine those who held power when the state began to unravel. Key officials—including the then Director General of Police P Doungel, then Chief Secretary Rajesh Kumar, and then Chief Minister N. Biren Singh—have reportedly not been summoned even once. Any serious inquiry into “dereliction of duty” that avoids questioning those at the apex of the administrative and security apparatus risks becoming an exercise in evasion rather than investigation. It raises a fundamental question: is the process designed to uncover truth, or to manage its consequences?
The Centre’s role in this prolonged ambiguity cannot be ignored. Having assumed responsibility by instituting the Committee of Inquiry, it has allowed the process to drift without urgency. Meanwhile, Manipur has witnessed continued violence—not just between Meitei and Kuki communities, but also involving other groups—indicating that the conflict has metastasized beyond its initial contours. Sporadic killings, including of civilians and security personnel, underline that the situation remains volatile despite heavy deployment of forces and repeated administrative reshuffles.
At the state level, the transition to a new government under Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh, supported by deputies from Kuki and Naga communities, was presented as a step toward reconciliation. However, symbolic political balancing has not translated into substantive peace on the ground. The persistence of violence suggests that governance remains reactive rather than strategic, focused on containment rather than resolution.
This dual failure—of the Centre to deliver accountability and of the state to restore normalcy—invites a more uncomfortable line of inquiry: does the political establishment, at some level, benefit from the continuation of instability? Prolonged conflict often reshapes political incentives. It can fragment opposition, justify extraordinary security measures, and shift public discourse away from governance deficits. While there may be no explicit intent to sustain violence, the absence of urgency in resolving it creates the appearance of tacit acceptance.
Equally concerning is the institutional message this sends. When inquiries are endlessly delayed and key decision-makers remain beyond scrutiny, it signals that accountability is negotiable. When violence continues despite militarisation, it suggests that force alone is being used as a substitute for political engagement. And when communities remain displaced with little clarity on rehabilitation, it reinforces a sense of abandonment.
Manipur’s crisis today is not just a failure of law enforcement; it is a failure of political will. Peace cannot be restored through convoys, checkpoints, and periodic arrests alone. It requires credible truth-finding, transparent accountability, and sustained dialogue that addresses the structural drivers of conflict—land, identity, governance, and representation.
Three years on, the most basic questions remain unanswered. Until the Centre and the state demonstrate that they are willing to confront those questions directly—and bear the political cost of doing so—Manipur risks remaining trapped in a cycle where violence persists not only because it cannot be stopped, but because it is not being decisively stopped.