In the Nagaland Legislative Assembly, during its ongoing Budget Session, several members have highlighted the issue, condemned it, and asserted that the matter should be referred to the Central Government for action against racist attacks on Northeasterners across the country
Monalisa Changkija
While we face racism in numerous ways every day, unfortunately we do not often realize, recognize, or understand it; therefore, we also tend to disregard it—until incidents of racist attacks occur and the media go to town highlighting them. The recent incidents involving three Arunachali women and a Naga woman doctor in two Indian cities once again brought racism against Northeasterners to centre stage, but now the media has moved on. Racism cannot compete with a war waged by the US and Israel on Iran and the aftermath we are witnessing in the Middle East. Racism cannot compete with the global repercussions following the attack, which are only the beginning.
The problem is that racist attacks, especially on Northeasterners, are not perceived as something very perverse in the Indian societal firmament, despite the much-hyped ‘unity in diversity’. To be sure, racism is a global phenomenon; however, that is no excuse for India not to do as much as it can besides simply enacting laws against racist acts.
In the Nagaland Legislative Assembly, during its ongoing Budget Session, several members have highlighted the issue, condemned it, and asserted that the matter should be referred to the Central Government for action against racist attacks on Northeasterners across the country. This is probably the first time any State Legislature has created the space for members to highlight the issue—a laudable beginning indeed. However, perhaps this beginning could have a greater impact at the national level if racist attacks on everyone in the country were highlighted and pressure exerted on the Union Government to take more tangible action. This is crucial, considering the racist policies and laws that some political parties in several states have enacted, especially with regard to language and religion, which have ripple-down effects on the political, economic, legal, social, and cultural rights of targeted communities.
In Nagaland, student and women’s organizations, civil society groups, and tribal hohos have always taken the initiative to condemn racist attacks on Northeasterners. These attacks have occurred over decades, but technology—especially the rise of social media—has now brought them to the forefront and made legislators sit up and take notice, to the point of speaking about racist attacks in the Assembly. However, it must also be noted that racism per se has not been accorded as much attention as the racist attacks themselves. The fact is that racist attacks will continue as long as racism is allowed to flourish under numerous guises—the most significant among them being religion, culture, and traditions. So will racist mindsets, attitudes, practices—and even laws.
Clearly, racism cuts across racial, political, economic, social, cultural, religious, and educational backgrounds, as well as geographical locations. Authorities and experts on racism posit that it is not an inherent trait but a nurtured one. Surely that would mean that a remedy for racism is possible. But is there the societal—especially political—will to pursue such a remedy? We know how difficult it is to erase centuries of cultural conditioning of beliefs, prejudices, and biases. Hence, besides racism, sexism, misogyny, homophobia, and even contempt for the physically, mentally, and economically challenged persist. Elitism that spawns and reinforces class and caste structures is also another manifestation of discrimination.
To deconstruct centuries-old entrenched systems and structures that create chasms and marginalize individuals and communities is not an easy task. But somewhere, sometime, a beginning must be made; otherwise, ‘unity in diversity’ will remain an aspiration, a hyped political slogan, and an agonizing reality for targeted individuals and communities.
In Nagaland, another issue that has raised statewide heckles is the imposition of the mandatory rendition of ‘Vande Mataram’ before the national anthem in government institutions and events. So much so that, on March 6, students and scholars of Nagaland University defied the directive at the University’s convocation, which the Indian Vice President attended. The students and scholars remained seated during the song’s rendition, thus signaling a powerful message of protest that will reverberate across the state. Members of the Legislature also spoke against this imposition in the ongoing Budget Session, with only a BJP member—the Minister of Higher Education and Tourism—defending the directive.
It is not known whether the State Government or the people consider such a crucial future-building—or future-destroying—portfolio as Higher Education to be at risk in the hands of an individual who appears uncaring about the religious sensitivities of the Christian-majority citizens in a state protected by Article 371(A) of the Constitution.
One aspect of racism that is not often realized, recognized, or understood is the insidious imposition of religion through laws and directives. The mandatory rendition of ‘Vande Mataram’ before the national anthem in government institutions and events is one such example. This also underscores the uneasy blend of racism and neo-colonialism through a lack of respect for other religions and a tacit but unambiguous message that says, “We own you.”
It is not only that Nagaland, Meghalaya, and Mizoram are Christian-dominated states; even in other states, the imposition of a religion-centric song contradicts the secularism clearly stated in our Constitution. State governments must fend off such ill-conceived measures that assert hegemonic neo-colonialism—a process that is perpetually constructed. In this, citizens must provide the support system. In fact, citizens must press upon state governments to fend off such anti-secular moves.
When Nagaland signed the 16-Point Agreement that led to the creation of the state on December 1, 1963, it did not surrender its religious rights, inter alia, and agree to be subjects of India. This is clearly reflected in Article 371(A) of the Indian Constitution. In fact, no state that became part of independent India at different points in time agreed to be subjects, but rather full-fledged and equal citizens with political, economic, legal, social, cultural, and religious rights. For anyone to renege on that now, after all these decades, would mean dark storm clouds gathering over our heads.
(Monalisa Changkija is a Dimapur-based veteran journalist, poet, and former Editor of Nagaland Page. Published in the March 8, 2026 issue of North East Now)
