Mathew Rongmei
Dimapur
Nagaland has been a dry state for over thirty years—long enough for an entire generation to grow up knowing only the world under prohibition. The law was born from genuine social concern and guided strongly by the moral voice of the churches. Over time, it came to represent the State’s identity, a statement that communities here wished to protect families from the harms of alcohol.
Yet the world around us is changing. New lifestyles, new public attitudes and new economic realities have entered the conversation. While many still hold the prohibition close to their hearts, others feel it may be time to re-examine its impact. What we are seeing today is not a clash, but a sincere mixture of concerns from people who all want what is best for society.
For many families, church groups and community organisations, the ban remains a shield. They remember the pain alcohol once caused—broken homes, financial strain, social wounds that took years to heal. To them, lifting the ban risks reopening old chapters better left closed. Their concern is genuine, and rooted in love for their communities.
But alongside this, another growing voice points to the unintended problems that have appeared: the rise of illicit liquor, the spread of dangerous homemade brews and a thriving underground market that answers to no one. These citizens argue that complete prohibition may have pushed drinking into darker corners, making it harder—not easier—to protect society. Some lawmakers have hinted at the need for change, while others urge caution, leaving the State in a thoughtful but uncertain place.
History offers lessons. The United States, home to the world’s largest Baptist population, once tried a similar path. From 1920 to 1933, America enforced Prohibition with enormous confidence. But instead of creating a sober society, it produced something else entirely—illegal brewing, massive smuggling networks and organised criminal empires like that of Al Capone. Police corruption soared. Government lost huge revenue. And ordinary citizens, frustrated by the chaos, abandoned support for the ban. Eventually, America repealed the law, making the 13-year experiment one of the most dramatic reversals in modern governance.
Italy, on the other hand—a country grounded in Catholic tradition—never attempted such a ban. Wine there is cultural, culinary and even religious. Instead of banning it, Italians embraced moderation as a way of life.
In Nagaland, some people today believe the State need not leap from full prohibition to full freedom. There is a middle space worth exploring—one that does not involve alcohol at all. Across India, the market for non-alcoholic beverages is booming: zero-alcohol beers, alcohol-free whisky or rum-style drinks, herbal mixers and drinks like kombucha. They look and feel like social drinks, but contain no alcohol, no sugar and often zero calories. For people who enjoy the atmosphere of a gathering but do not wish to drink, these alternatives offer a surprisingly comfortable bridge.
And this raises a fair question: Do non-alcoholic drinks actually taste good?
Surprisingly, yes. Today’s zero-proof beverages are crafted to mimic the taste and aroma of regular drinks. Alcohol-free beers carry the same crisp bitterness; whisky-style alternatives have warm, smoky notes; mocktails deliver the refreshing tang of a summer drink. They don’t give a “kick”—but they do offer the mature, flavourful experience many people look for at social events. Some even use herbs or botanicals that create a gentle calming sensation—not intoxication, just a relaxed, pleasant feel.
This is why many regular drinkers say these beverages let them enjoy the mood of a gathering without any guilt, hangovers or health worries.
If Nagaland ever wishes to explore possibilities beyond the current system, the safest starting point may simply be this: allow non-alcoholic options. They do not violate the spirit of prohibition. They offer a legal alternative to harmful black-market brews. And they could even encourage local entrepreneurship—fruit-based drinks, herbal fusions, traditional non-intoxicating recipes—reflecting both culture and creativity.
Should the conversation ever move beyond this point, experts encourage a careful, step-by-step approach. Any shift must involve churches, tribal councils, women’s groups, youth bodies and lawmakers. A slow, transparent process prevents misunderstandings and keeps every community involved. Instead of sudden decisions, a small pilot experiment—tested in one area under strict conditions—would allow everyone to observe real-life impact before deciding collectively on the future.
And if a regulated system ever brings revenue, it could be used meaningfully—funding healthcare, addiction counselling, awareness programs and support services for families affected by substance abuse.
In the end, the debate is not about choosing sides. It is about finding a path that protects society while acknowledging new realities. Non-alcoholic beverages may not be the final answer—but they might just be the first calm, balanced step toward one.
