Imlisanen Jamir
Imagine living with the quiet but constant hum of tension, where you live your daily life, tell your stories, and love like anyone else in the world. But every now and then, you're reminded that this normalcy is a fragile construct, held together under the shadow of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA). This is life in Nagaland.
It was December 4, 2021, in Oting, Mon district, Nagaland. A group of coal miners, returning home after a day’s work, were ambushed by soldiers of the 21 Para Special Forces. In the botched operation, 8 civilians travelling in a pickup were ambushed, killing 6 on the spot and critically wounding 2 others.
The Oting massacre was one of those brutal reminders—soldiers with sweeping powers, enabled by the law, botched a counter-insurgency operation and killed innocent civilians. But what happens next is the true kicker. Nothing.
The criminal proceedings against the 21 Para Special Forces soldiers accused in the killings has come to a virtual halt. The Armed Forces Special Powers Act served as the protective shield.
The Supreme Court, on September 17, upheld the two writ petitions, filed in 2022, by the wives of the accused commandos challenging criminal proceedings against their husbands and other Army personnel. A Special Investigation Team, instituted by the Nagaland state government, had filed charges against 30 members of the 21 Para Special Forces.
The petitioners sought the court to quash the case, “and all other ancillary proceedings” against the commandos, emanating from the criminal case filed by the Nagaland Police in connection to the Oting Killings.
The decision, delivered by a two-judge bench, cited the immunity provided by the Armed Forces Special Powers Act, and the Central government denying prosecution sanction against the accused soldiers.
Let’s not forget, though, that Nagaland's state government hasn’t given up just yet. Their plea is still before the Supreme Court, challenging the denial of prosecution sanction. If the court decides to grant that sanction, it could open a path toward justice. But that’s a big "if." Until then, this case, like so many others, remains in limbo, with only vague promises of accountability.
When the Oting massacre first hit the headlines, the Union Home Minister and even the security forces offered a semblance of apology, acknowledging it was a botched operation. It was a rare sight—an admission that something went terribly wrong. The Nagaland state government, to its credit, has also taken visible steps, continuing its efforts to seek justice. Yet, despite these moves, the Armed Forces Special Powers Act remains the impenetrable wall standing between the people and justice. And that wall isn't just symbolic; it's the very real militarization you see on Nagaland's streets, reminding the people of who holds the power.
In a curious twist of fate, the only semblance of representation for Oting’s people has come in the form of an MP from the village, elected on a BJP ticket, the party at power in the Centre and who at present holds the power to remove AFSPA or grant prosecution sanction.
The Oting massacre, like so many tragic stories in Nagaland, remains unresolved. It's a brutal reminder that life here, despite its everyday normalcy, is marked by a deep undercurrent of fear and militarization.
Nagaland’s people, like anyone else, love, grieve, laugh, and build lives, but they do so under the shadow of a law that treats them as second-class citizens in their own land. The Oting massacre is just one reminder of this grim reality, and until the Armed Forces Special Powers Act is dismantled, there will be many more reminders, each more devastating than the last.
Life in Nagaland is under a cloud— the Armed Forces Special Powers Act and its oppressive weight, military checkpoints on every corner, and memories of past hurts that echoes louder with each passing day of inaction. How can a people feel safe, grow, or fully integrate when they are forced to live under the constant threat of violence, their lives always at the mercy of a law that prioritizes the safety of those in power over the lives of the people?
Comments can be sent to imlisanenjamir@gmail.com