Dr Rongsenzulu Jamir
For over 15 years, living outside Nagaland in various Indian cities, I have been repeatedly confronted with one frustrating question: “Do you eat dog meat?” I am sure many Nagas share this experience. Whether asked out of curiosity or ridicule, the question reduces an entire culture to a single sensationalized stereotype. To understand why it is problematic, we must look beyond what is on the plate and examine the broader issues of identity, respect, and recognition in modern India.
Recently, while visiting one of India’s most literate states, I was stunned when confronted with the same query. Dog meat consumption, though historically part of some Naga tribes’ culinary heritage, is neither universal nor widely practiced today. Like many indigenous cultures, Nagas have folklore that portrays dogs as companions and protectors. Among the Ao Nagas, for instance, tales like the story of the dog and the pig teach lessons about hard work and cunning, while other myths explain the absence of a written script blaming a dog for stealing the inscribed hide. These narratives reflect our geography, history, and societal values.
Yet, the practice of consuming dog meat is fading, especially among younger generations. Rising pet ownership, shifting dietary habits, and growing awareness of animal rights have led many Nagas to abandon the tradition altogether.
A Question of Sensitivity or Ignorance?
The persistence of this question is not really about food but perception. For many in ‘mainland India,’ the Northeast remains an exotic, distant ‘other.’ Decades of underrepresentation in textbooks, media, and popular culture have cemented this mindset, reducing our traditions to objects of mockery.
When people ask, “Do you eat dog meat?” it is rarely out of genuine cultural curiosity. More often laced with prejudice, a sense of superiority and sheer ignorance.
Legal Tussles and Cultural Realities
In 2020, responding to nationwide outrage from animal rights activists, the Nagaland government banned the import and sale of dog meat. However, in 2023, the Gauhati High Court overturned the ban, deeming it unconstitutional and lacking legislative backing. The court recognized that dog meat holds cultural significance for some communities and stressed that such issues require inclusive dialogue not abrupt prohibition. The ban and its aftermath became a flashpoint in the larger conversation about how Northeast cultures are perceived and treated in India.
For many Nagas, though, the issue is more than just legal, it is emotional. Imagine, dear India, if someone questioned your culinary heritage with the same prejudice and judgment. How would you feel?
Lessons for the Rest of India
Respect for cultural diversity does not begin and end with symbolic festivals or labels. It is reflected in everyday interactions. If India truly wants to celebrate its pluralism, it must make space for us not just geographically but in its cultural mainstream.
This means updating school curricula to include India’s diverse histories and literatures. It means amplifying marginalized voices in politics, media, and the arts. And it means learning to ask better, more respectful questions free from judgment and mockery.
Moving Beyond Micro aggressions
The frustration of being repeatedly asked about dog meat is not just about offense, it is the exhausting burden of constantly defending one’s identity. It is about wanting to be seen as a culture with heritage, pride, complexity, and individuality.
For years, my instinct has been to educate the questioner. But how long must we keep doing this? Should I just say “no” and move on? In an era of advanced media and global connectivity, why are we still stuck on this outdated stereotype?
Final Word
Bharat is a country of many Indias. Honouring that truth means embracing every community not through exoticism, suspicion, or repression, but with empathy and equality. The next time someone wants to know about Nagaland, ask about our music, our indigenous governance, our vibrant attires, or our languages. But please not the same tired question.
Perhaps it is time to pause, reflect, and ask: What does your fixation on this stereotype say about you?
Dr Rongsenzulu Jamir teaches Anthropology at the University of Hyderabad, Telangana. His works explores on Natural Resource Management, Indigenous Knowledge, Folklore, Social Change and Gender.
