The Silent War Along the IT Corridor: How Manipur’s Land Disputes Are Reshaping Northeast India’s Security Landscape
Nestled between Myanmar and Bangladesh, Manipur has long been a crucible of ethnic identity and territorial contestation in Northeast India. The recent surge in violence along the Imphal-Tuipang (IT) Road—particularly in Kangpokpi district—is not merely another flare-up in a protracted conflict, but a symptom of deeper, unresolved fissures in India’s northeastern frontier. For decades, the region has been a mosaic of tribal identities, each with competing claims over land, resources, and political autonomy. The escalation of attacks on Naga villages such as Makui Pipuram, Tapon Khullen, and Thonglang Akutpa has exposed how fragile the peace remains, especially when economic corridors and livelihoods intersect with historical grievances.
This is not an isolated incident. The IT Road is more than a transport link—it is a lifeline for over 500,000 people, a conduit for government services, and a symbol of state integration. Yet, in the shadow of its tarmac, communities are being displaced, homes reduced to ashes, and trust eroded. The violence is not random: it is patterned, targeted, and increasingly militarized. Behind the burning houses and displaced families lies a complex web of land tenure systems, competing tribal jurisdictions, and the slow erosion of governance in one of India’s most militarized states.
As the central government pushes for infrastructure development and connectivity in the Northeast, the conflict in Kangpokpi serves as a cautionary tale. It reveals how development without reconciliation can deepen divisions. It also underscores a critical paradox: while New Delhi seeks to integrate the region through roads and digital networks, the very infrastructure it promotes is becoming a flashpoint for violence. The crisis in Manipur is no longer just a local issue—it is a regional security challenge with implications for India’s Act East Policy, border security, and the stability of its eastern flank.
---The Roots of Division: Historical Grievances and the Failure of Land Governance
The violence in Kangpokpi cannot be understood without tracing the historical roots of land disputes in Manipur. The state is home to over 30 recognized tribes, each with distinct customary laws governing land use. The Naga and Kuki communities, in particular, have long-standing claims over overlapping territories, rooted in colonial-era administrative divisions and post-independence political restructuring.
During British rule, Manipur was administered as a princely state, with land rights largely vested in the Maharaja. After India’s independence in 1947, the state was merged into the Indian Union, but tribal autonomy remained protected under the Sixth Schedule of the Constitution. However, the Sixth Schedule was never fully implemented in Manipur, leading to a governance vacuum. Tribal councils—such as the United Naga Council (UNC) and the Kuki Inpi—emerged as de facto authorities, managing land, justice, and even taxation in their areas.
This decentralized power structure created a paradox: while it preserved tribal autonomy, it also fragmented land governance. In Kangpokpi, for instance, the Naga Hills and the Kuki-dominated valleys overlap, with no clear legal demarcation between state-controlled and community-managed lands. The absence of a unified land record system has allowed disputes to fester. According to a 2022 report by the Manipur Human Rights Commission, over 60% of land-related conflicts in the state remain unresolved due to ambiguous tenure records and overlapping claims.
Compounding this issue is the role of migration and demographic change. The Kukis, who migrated from Myanmar in waves during the 19th and 20th centuries, settled in the fertile valleys of Kangpokpi. The Nagas, who traditionally inhabited the hill tracts, view this settlement as encroachment. Clashes in 1993 and 2010 left hundreds dead and displaced thousands. Yet, no political solution was reached. Instead, both communities formed armed groups—the Kuki National Army (KNA) and the National Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN)—to defend their territories and assert political rights.
Today, these groups operate as both armed actors and parallel governments. They levy taxes, regulate movement, and enforce their own justice systems. In many villages along the IT Road, residents report paying “protection money” to both Naga and Kuki militants, depending on which group controls the area. This dual sovereignty has eroded the authority of the state government, which is often seen as weak, distant, and unresponsive.
Key Statistic: According to the Manipur government’s 2023 socio-economic survey, over 12,000 families have been displaced due to ethnic violence since 2010. Of these, more than 4,000 were displaced in Kangpokpi district alone during the 2023 escalation.
---From Land to Arms: The Militarization of Everyday Life
The transformation of land disputes into armed conflict is not accidental—it is a deliberate strategy. Both the Naga and Kuki communities have evolved sophisticated systems of resistance, blending traditional governance with modern insurgency tactics. The IT Road, a 250-kilometer stretch connecting Imphal to the southern districts, has become a strategic asset in this struggle.
For the Naga groups, control over the road means securing access to their ancestral lands in the south. For the Kuki groups, it means protecting their settlements and trade routes. When the KNA or NSCN factions impose blockades or ambush convoys, they are not just attacking infrastructure—they are asserting territorial sovereignty. In 2023, over 18 road blockades were recorded in Kangpokpi, each lasting between 3 to 10 days. These disruptions cost the state an estimated ₹150 crore ($18 million) in lost trade and supply delays.
But the violence has escalated beyond economic sabotage. Since October 2023, at least 11 Naga villages along the IT Road have been attacked. Homes were burned, livestock killed, and civilians forced to flee. Local NGOs report that over 800 families from Makui Pipuram and Tapon Khullen are now living in relief camps in Churachandpur and Imphal. Many have not returned for over six months.
The attackers are often masked men armed with assault rifles and improvised explosives. While no group has claimed responsibility, intelligence reports from the Manipur Police and Assam Rifles suggest involvement of the KNA’s 6th Battalion and NSCN (Khango) faction. These groups operate with near impunity, exploiting the porous border with Myanmar to smuggle weapons and regroup.
This militarization has had a chilling effect on civil society. Teachers, health workers, and even religious leaders have been threatened or forced to relocate. In January 2024, the Catholic Bishop of Manipur, Rev. Dr. Dominic Lumon, issued a public appeal for peace, stating that “the church has become a refuge for the displaced, but even our sanctuaries are not safe.”
Meanwhile, the state response has been reactive and insufficient. The Manipur Police, already understaffed and under-resourced, has been criticized for failing to prevent attacks or protect civilians. The deployment of central forces—including the CRPF and Assam Rifles—has increased, but their presence is often seen as temporary and symbolic rather than a long-term solution.
---Development as a Double-Edged Sword: The IT Road and the Illusion of Connectivity
The Imphal-Tuipang Road is a flagship project under India’s Act East Policy, aimed at boosting trade with Southeast Asia. Stretching 250 km through dense forests and tribal territories, the road is part of the Asian Highway Network and is intended to reduce travel time from Imphal to Myanmar’s Tamu border from 12 hours to 6. It is also a key route for the supply of essential goods to over 200,000 people in the southern districts.
Yet, this development narrative masks a harsh reality: the road is not just a connector—it is a divider. Its construction in the 1980s and 2000s triggered land disputes that remain unresolved. In many villages, farmers were displaced without compensation. In others, the road became a boundary line, separating Naga and Kuki settlements. Today, the road is not just a target of violence—it is a weapon in the conflict.
During the 2023 monsoon, the IT Road was repeatedly targeted by militants. In September, a convoy carrying food and medicine was ambushed near Tapon Khullen, killing two drivers and destroying three trucks. The attack led to a 15-day blockade, cutting off food supplies to at least 15,000 people. Hospitals in Churachandpur reported a 40% increase in malnutrition cases among children during the blockade.
This is not an anomaly. A 2023 study by the Centre for Policy Research (CPR) found that road-related violence in Manipur has increased by 300% since 2018, directly correlating with the acceleration of infrastructure projects. The study warns that unless development is preceded by community consultation and land rights clarification, such projects will continue to fuel conflict.
Moreover, the road has become a smuggling route for arms and drugs, further destabilizing the region. According to the Narcotics Control Bureau (NCB), Manipur is now a transit point for heroin and methamphetamine from Myanmar, with much of it moving along the IT corridor. The nexus between insurgents, drug traffickers, and local elites has created a parallel economy that thrives on instability.
---Beyond Manipur: The Regional Implications of a Protracted Crisis
The conflict in Kangpokpi is not confined to Manipur’s borders. It resonates across the Northeast, particularly in Nagaland and Mizoram, where Naga and Kuki populations also reside. The spillover effects are already visible.
In Nagaland’s Phek district, bordering Manipur, Naga villagers have reported increased Kuki militant activity near the IT Road’s terminus. Local leaders fear that if the violence in Kangpokpi persists, it could reignite old tensions in Nagaland’s Ukhrul district, another flashpoint between Nagas and Kukis.
Similarly, in Mizoram’s Champhai district, Kuki refugees from Manipur have settled in camps, straining local resources and raising concerns about demographic change. The Mizoram government has accused the central government of failing to protect Kuki civilians, while the Manipur government accuses Mizoram of harboring militants.
This inter-state tension is compounded by Myanmar’s ongoing civil war. Since the 2021 military coup, Myanmar’s borderlands have become a haven for ethnic armed groups, including Naga and Kuki factions. These groups now operate across international borders, smuggling arms and recruiting fighters. The Indian government’s policy of non-interference in Myanmar’s internal affairs has left a security vacuum that insurgent groups are exploiting.
At the geopolitical level, the crisis threatens India’s strategic interests. The IT Road is part of the India-Myanmar-Thailand Trilateral Highway, a key component of India’s connectivity push into Southeast Asia. If the road remains unsafe, it could undermine India’s efforts to counter China’s influence in the region through infrastructure projects like the China-Myanmar Economic Corridor.
Strategic Context: India’s Ministry of External Affairs has invested over ₹800 crore ($96 million) in the Trilateral Highway since 2015. However, only 60% of the Manipur stretch is operational due to security concerns.
---Toward a Path Forward: Can Reconciliation Outpace Resentment?
The path to peace in Kangpokpi is fraught with challenges, but not insurmountable. Three critical steps must be taken:
1. Demilitarization and Dialogue: The central government must facilitate direct talks between the Naga and Kuki leadership, mediated by neutral third parties such as the Catholic Church or civil society groups. The 2015 Framework Agreement between the Indian government and the NSCN (IM) offers a potential model—though its implementation remains stalled. A similar agreement with Kuki groups could help de-escalate hostilities.
2. Land Rights Reform: The Manipur government must prioritize the creation of a unified land record system, incorporating customary laws while ensuring constitutional protections. The recent establishment of a Land Revenue Commission is a positive step, but its recommendations must be implemented urgently.
3. Economic Alternatives: Development projects must be community-driven and benefit-sharing. The IT Road should not just be a highway—it should be a corridor of shared prosperity. Micro-credit schemes, vocational training, and agricultural cooperatives could reduce dependence on militant groups for protection and livelihood.
Yet, the political will to act is lacking. Manipur’s state government is weak, with Chief Minister N. Biren Singh facing allegations of bias toward the Meitei community and neglect of tribal concerns. The central government, meanwhile, has prioritized counter-insurgency over conflict resolution, treating the violence as a law-and-order issue rather than a governance failure.
This approach is unsustainable. The longer the crisis persists, the deeper the divisions will become. Already, a generation of youth in Kangpokpi has grown up knowing only violence and displacement. Many are joining militant groups not out of ideological conviction, but out of a sense of abandonment and the need for protection.
“We are not fighting for land alone. We are fighting for our identity, our dignity. When the state ignores us, when the police cannot protect us, we turn to the only people who can—the armed groups. That is the tragedy.”
— A village elder from Tapon Khullen, speaking on condition of anonymity.
Conclusion: The IT Road as a Mirror of India’s Northeast Dilemma
The violence along the Imphal-Tuipang Road is more than a local conflict—it is a microcosm of the challenges facing India’s northeastern frontier. It exposes the failure of post-colonial governance, the limitations of military solutions, and the dangers of development without inclusion. In a region where identity and territory are intertwined, the state cannot impose peace—it must negotiate it.
For the people of Kangpokpi, the IT Road is both a curse and a hope. It brings the promise of connectivity and progress, but also the threat of violence and displacement. Until the underlying grievances are addressed, the road will remain a scar, not a bridge.
The time for action is now. The central government must convene a regional peace conference, involving all stakeholders—tribal leaders, civil society, insurgent groups willing to negotiate, and international observers. The Manipur government must reform land governance and restore trust in the police. And civil society must lead the way in rebuilding fractured communities.
Without these steps, the fires in Kangpokpi will not be extinguished—they will spread. And in doing so, they will consume not just a road, but the fragile stability of India’s eastern frontier.