Aheli Moitra
When one draws life’s experiences from the history of partition, the keen observation of other partitioned peoples becomes a natural extension of the self.
Bengal was first partitioned in 1905 by the British on reportedly communal and administrative lines. While strong initiatives were taken up by the people to unify into one political unit (including one which called for Bengal to be a Free State that would then decide its relations with the rest of India), they were laid to naught as the 1947 partition converted East Bengal into another nation state altogether—East Pakistan. Bengal never did recover from this, and eventually, in 1971, Bangladesh emerged.
The new country faced steep poverty and remained fertile for natural disasters on the one hand; on the other, the people of West Bengal, now a part of the Indian Union developed and maintained a high nosed attitude about themselves. Somehow, the western spoils of partition laid claims to historical advantage (Calcutta being the British capital had brought much better development to the west of Bengal than to its east) as though it was their independent doing—as though their eastern brethren had somehow to be blamed for the historical disadvantages of state making. Today, many people from West Bengal will look down on the people of Bangladesh reflecting a sense of superiority towards the other, albeit knowing full well that culturally they are the same people. Borders make the latter’s similarities fade and enhance even nonexistent hostilities.
If we are to bring this historical analogy to the Naga peoples’ case, it may be noticed that a similar path is taking shape. State making has equally affected, and unequivocally damaged, the prospects of a larger Naga political formation since the inception of the Nagaland State in 1963. While the “Nagas of Nagaland” (except perhaps rural areas particularly of the east) have settled into cushy-chaired corruption-filled beneficial arrangement of being proud Scheduled Tribes with the crown of Article 371-A, other Naga people left as crusts of the Nagaland State pie have faced the real brunt of what it means to be Scheduled Tribe minorities in other States of the Union.
It is easily forgotten that a collective enterprise, and the imagination of a collective utopia, gave rise to an overground clique that negotiated the 16-points memorandum. Barring exceptions, “emotional integration” has become a matter of politicking, and the people who have benefitted from Nagaland State tend to look till about as far as short sight may permit on issues plaguing their neighbours. A peace process has only brought to fore a sense of victimhood and self defense among this lot.
Thus, the peripheries (particularly eastern parts of Naga areas) have remained in the worst of conditions—uncontrolled disease and floods in the east and west of the Naga areas respectively may act as points of reference—with no particular dent on the conscience of the centre. Major organisations being based in the State has not helped the cause. Other organisations from the State have gained mileage over raising the issue of borders, but have foregone the people these borders encompass.
Much like the people of Bengal, the Nagas have been reduced to State borders defining their identity. These processes have damaged peoples, their rights and the possibility of strong communities in irreversible ways. Today, while Bengal makes feeble attempts to begin rail lines and enhance communication between the erstwhile Siamese sisters, it remains to be seen if the Naga people can set a new example for the subcontinent—can the Nagas of Nagaland, from their position of comfort, bring together the Nagas spread all over and begin a discussion beyond the borders?
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