Aheli Moitra
Nagaland Page has compiled a useful list of political families in Nagaland, as it has drawn our attention to the trend of dynastic politics in the state. For every SC Jamir, there’s an SI Jamir, as to every Neiphiu Rio, a Zhaleo Rio. It’s not just brothers who share political blood; there are in-laws who do it, offspring of course and widows too. With that, the Nagas join a club of nations where dynasties run democracies.
South Korea has chosen a dictator’s daughter (!) to bring them democracy. For many generations, the Americans have been ruled by a handful of Kennedys, Bushs and Rockefellers. Japan’s prime minister’s grandfather was a former prime minister and so was his opponent’s in the previous election. Indonesia, Malaysia, Pakistan, India, Philippines gleefully join the gang—some call themselves democracies, some others pretend less. They are distinguished from dictatorships of Saudi Arabia or Sudan only by the few letters that follow D.
How did the Nagas, with a sense of nationhood less than a century old, already join the gang? The Nagas of Nagaland practice Indian Democracy (the brand) wholeheartedly, while the Nagas of Manipur reject it; the Nagas of Assam have little chance and the Nagas of Myanmar (along with the rest of Myanmar) are only starting to taste what Myanmarese democracy could be like. But there is a common thread.
Dynastic politics are not alien to the Nagas. It is the bloodline that has given leaders to villages for generations, and a single powerful dynasty did not emerge because the Nagas were never ruled by a common denominator. Barring exceptions, villages select their chiefs based on bloodline. The clans denote this bloodline, and chiefs emerge thus. In few cases does the new chief have to prove his merit.
In a village in Phek, all village board members—education, development—flock from one clan. In another village of another district, the drunkard son of the 90 year old chief will take over once he dies. A village in Longleng refuses to start any function for the day till the village priest, a 20 year old boy whose father passed away years ago since when he has held the post, arrived. His family also controls the village council. In the Niuland area of Dimapur, a widow plays the role of the chief till her son comes of age. Traditional medical practice, having faced the same brunt, went out of practice. In rural Mon, lower caste citizens cannot even step into an Angh’s house, less compete in an election.
Most upper crust positions in businesses or government departments in the urban sector, whether in Kohima or Dimapur, are the clout of a clan or three, which might have favoured another through marital alliance. One always hears an uncle, cousin or, even, an aunt pop up in every conversation in the city. It is only when you break into a lower income bracket, or into the circles of a struggling tribe, that the shackles of bloodlines loosen up.
In politics, this could mean anything from grave to dismal. The practice of Indian democracy will allow bloodline inequalities in an ever-growing population to get entrenched. This is not the contribution of the (Indian National) Congress to politics but of carrying the past almost unchanged into the future where the sons of kings become kings. Neither daughters, nor the local dalit or tribesman considered for the position. Perhaps the offspring of a politico could be a good politico but whether s/he’s better than the neighbourhood daily wager, one will not know without equal opportunity. This, the Election Commission of India cannot bring. And a nation of clans, thus, will beget a democracy of dynasties.
This can be brought only through a demand for equality that goes beyond Indian democracy. As long as Naga moderates play along with this, favouring order to justice and negative peace to resistance, a sense of politics that goes beyond dynasties will not arise. Nor will the resolve to create a political system prepared to handle existing inequalities.
