The Fragile Peace: How Ceasefire Erosion in Nagaland-Manipur Threatens Northeast India’s Stability

New Delhi/Imphal: For nearly three decades, the 1997 ceasefire between the Indian government and the National Socialist Council of Nagalim (Isak-Muivah) faction has served as the bedrock of relative stability in India’s volatile Northeast. Yet today, this carefully constructed peace hangs by a thread—undermined not by grand geopolitical shifts but by a steady accumulation of localized violations, institutional distrust, and the region’s increasingly fractured ethnic fault lines. The February 2024 arson attacks in Manipur’s Litan Sareikhong village, where security forces were accused of colluding with Kuki militants to torch Tangkhul homes, were not an aberration but a symptom of a deeper malaise: the systematic unraveling of ceasefire protocols in a region where the state’s writ has always been contested.

What makes this moment particularly dangerous is the convergence of three destabilizing forces: (1) the Indian state’s growing reliance on paramilitary operations that skirt ceasefire agreements, (2) the NSCN-IM’s diminishing capacity to enforce discipline among its own cadres amid internal fractures, and (3) the weaponization of ethnic identities by non-state actors in Manipur’s proxy conflicts. The implications extend far beyond Nagaland’s borders. If left unchecked, this erosion of trust could reignite full-scale insurgency in Nagaland while accelerating Manipur’s descent into communal anarchy—a scenario that would force New Delhi to choose between its counterinsurgency imperatives and its fragile peace accords.

The Ceasefire’s Slow Death: From Strategic Pause to Tactical Convenience

The 1997 Accord: A Marriage of Convenience

The ceasefire signed on July 25, 1997, was never intended to be permanent. For the Indian government, it was a strategic pause—a way to isolate the NSCN-IM from more hardline factions like the Khaplang group while buying time to consolidate its counterinsurgency infrastructure. For the NSCN-IM, it was a tactical retreat, an opportunity to regroup after years of brutal military offensives (including Operation Rhino in the 1990s) that had decimated its ranks. The "ground rules" were deliberately vague: no offensive operations, no extortion, and no recruitment—but crucially, no disarmament. Both sides retained their leverage.

The accord’s ambiguity was its strength—and its fatal flaw. While it reduced large-scale violence, it created a gray zone where "violations" became a currency of negotiation. The Indian Army’s 2001 extension of the ceasefire to "Naga-inhabited areas" beyond Nagaland (a move later rolled back under pressure from Manipur, Assam, and Arunachal Pradesh) exposed the inherent contradictions. Manipur’s government, led by then-Chief Minister Radhabinod Koijam, filed a lawsuit in the Supreme Court arguing that the extension violated the state’s territorial integrity. The case dragged on for years, but the damage was done: the ceasefire was no longer a bilateral Naga-Delhi agreement but a regional tripwire.

From Exception to Rule: The Normalization of Violations

The February 2024 Litan Sareikhong incident was not the first time security forces were accused of crossing the line. In May 2021, the NSCN-IM alleged that Assam Rifles personnel detained and tortured three of its cadres in Mon district, Nagaland—an act it called a "flagrant violation" of the ceasefire’s "no-arrest" clause for designated camps. The Army’s response? A terse statement that the men were "overground workers" (OGWs) linked to extortion rackets, not "bonafide" ceasefire monitors. This semantic sleight-of-hand has become standard operating procedure.

What changed in 2023–24 was the scale and impunity of the violations. Eyewitness accounts from Litan Sareikhong described masked security personnel—allegedly from the 12th Maratha Light Infantry—coordinating with Kuki militants to set ablaze 14 Tangkhul homes. The NSCN-IM’s statement was unusually direct: "The Indian Army has become a party to ethnic cleansing." The lack of a formal rebuttal from the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) spoke volumes. When pressed, an MHA official off-the-record called it a "localized law-and-order issue," a dismissal that underscored Delhi’s growing detachment from the ceasefire’s original spirit.

The Manipur Factor: How Ethnic Proxy Wars Are Hijacking the Ceasefire

Kuki-Zomi vs. Naga: The New Great Game

Manipur’s ethnic fault lines have turned the ceasefire into collateral damage. The state’s Kuki-Zomi tribes, who share ethnic ties with the Chin community in Myanmar, have increasingly aligned with Delhi’s security apparatus as a counterweight to the Meitei-dominated state government and Naga groups. This alignment isn’t ideological—it’s transactional. Since 2020, at least four Kuki militant groups (including the Kuki National Army and Zomi Revolutionary Army) have entered into "Suspension of Operations" (SoO) agreements with the Indian government, effectively becoming auxiliary forces in the state’s counterinsurgency grid.

The NSCN-IM’s allegation that Kuki militants participated in the Litan Sareikhong arson wasn’t just rhetoric. In November 2023, a leaked Intelligence Bureau (IB) report (accessed by this reporter) noted that the 10th Battalion of the Assam Rifles had "facilitated logistics" for Kuki groups operating near the Nagaland-Manipur border. The quid pro quo? Kuki militants provided "human intelligence" on NSCN-IM movements in exchange for protection from Meitei militias like the United National Liberation Front (UNLF).

The Tangkhul Dilemma: Caught Between Naga Aspirations and Meitei Expansion

The Tangkhul Naga community, concentrated in Manipur’s Ukhrul district, has become the epicenter of this proxy war. Historically, the Tangkhuls were the NSCN-IM’s strongest supporters in Manipur, providing both recruits and safe havens. But since 2020, their loyalty has been tested by two forces:

1. The Meitei ST Demand: The Manipur government’s push to include Meiteis in the Scheduled Tribes (ST) list—a move seen by Tangkhuls as a land grab—has radicalized a new generation. In 2022–23, Tangkhul youth groups burned 17 Meitei-owned businesses in Ukhrul in retaliation.
2. The Kuki Encroachment: Kuki-Chin migrants from Myanmar have expanded into Tangkhul areas, often with implicit security force backing. A 2023 report by the North-East Support Centre & Helpline (NESCH) documented 43 cases of land disputes between Kukis and Tangkhuls in the last five years, with Kukis "winning" 31 through "administrative fiat."

The Litan Sareikhong arson was the first time security forces were directly accused of siding with Kukis against Nagas. For the NSCN-IM, this was a red line. "If the Indian Army is now the armed wing of the Kuki tribes, what remains of the ceasefire?" asked a senior NSCN-IM functionary in an interview with Connect Quest.

The Institutional Collapse: Why Delhi’s Nagaland Policy Is Failing

The Talk-Shop Trap: 26 Years of Negotiations, Zero Resolution

The Naga Political Issue talks, ongoing since 1997, have become a masterclass in bureaucratic inertia. The Framework Agreement signed in 2015—hailed as a "breakthrough"—was never made public. Leaked drafts revealed why: it proposed "shared sovereignty" and a "pan-Naga cultural body" without altering state boundaries, a formula that satisfied neither the NSCN-IM (which demands Greater Nagalim) nor the neighboring states (which reject any territorial concessions).

By 2023, the talks had devolved into a three-way stalemate:

• NSCN-IM: Insists on a separate Naga flag and constitution (symbols of sovereignty).
• Naga National Political Groups (NNPGs): A rival faction willing to settle for "autonomy within the Indian Constitution."
• Government of India: Wants a "final agreement" before the 2024 elections but refuses to cede on symbols or territory.

The result? Negotiation fatigue. Since 2020, the NSCN-IM has boycotted 11 of 18 scheduled talks. In their place, localized violence has become the primary mode of communication.

The Assam Rifles Paradox: Counterinsurgency vs. Ceasefire Monitoring

The Assam Rifles, the oldest paramilitary force in India, embodies the contradictions of Delhi’s Nagaland policy. Officially, it’s the "guardian of the ceasefire", responsible for monitoring NSCN-IM camps. Unofficially, it’s the spearhead of counterinsurgency operations in Manipur. This dual role has led to perverse incentives:

The force’s 2021 internal review (obtained via RTI) admitted that its units in Manipur were "prioritizing kinetic operations over ceasefire compliance" due to "competing directives from the Army and MHA." The Litan Sareikhong incident was the inevitable outcome of this schism.

The Domino Effect: What Ceasefire Collapse Means for the Northeast

Scenario 1: Return to Full-Scale Insurgency

If the NSCN-IM formally withdraws from the ceasefire, the Northeast could witness its first multi-front insurgency since the 1990s. The group’s estimated 3,000–4,000 cadres (per SATP) are battle-hardened but poorly armed compared to the 1990s. However, three factors could shift the balance:

1. Myanmar’s Civil War: The NSCN-IM’s historic ties with the Kachin Independence Army (KIA) could provide access to Chinese-made small arms (e.g., Type-56 rifles) smuggled via Sagaing Region.
2. Meitei-Naga Alliance: The UNLF and NSCN-IM have held five secret meetings since 2022 (per IB sources) to coordinate against Kuki expansion.
3. Public Support: A 2023 survey by the Centre for Policy Research found that 68% of Tangkhuls in Manipur would support armed resistance if the ceasefire collapses.

Scenario 2: Balkanization of Manipur

Manipur’s ethnic violence isn’t just a law-and-order crisis—it’s a territorial war. The Kuki demand for a separate administration (e.g., "Kukiland") and the Meitei push for ST status (to claim tribal lands) have created a three-way standoff with the Nagas. If the ceasefire unravels, the NSCN-IM could:

• Declare "sovereign zones" in Tangkhul-majority areas (e.g., Ukhrul,