Manipur's hills have always been filled with stories – of birth and burial, of laughter and longing, of women carrying water from streams with songs in their hearts, and of divine maidens guarding the pristine landscapes.
But now these stories are drowned in a silence thicker than the morning mist, a terrible silence punctuated by screams that these weathered hills can no longer echo.
From the recent horrific case in Jiribam – where a Meitei family of six (three women and three children) were allegedly abducted and brutally murdered – to the systematic violence targeting the Kuki-Zomi women through calculated acts of murder and rape, Manipur has entered its darkest chapter in the history of its statehood.
As Hannah Arendt once warned, the greatest evils in the world are not committed by fanatics or sociopaths but by ordinary individuals following orders, fulfilling duties, and bowing to systems.
In Manipur, many perpetrators of these crimes were not unknown to the victims. They were not strangers emerging from the shadows but familiar faces – people who had shared meals, celebrated festivals, and lived as part of the same community. How does one reconcile such betrayal when the most fundamental human bonds are severed with such cruelty?
These men no longer saw these women as humans but as objects in a game of power. They become instruments of power, desensitised by the machinery of conflict that normalises gendered violence and dispossession. In this tragic transformation, the banality of evil finds its most chilling expression.
Reliving Trauma: Women in Relief Camps
In Manipur's crowded relief camps, women huddle together in quiet despair, attempting to piece together the shattered pieces of their lives. These spaces, which were intended to be sanctuaries, are now haunted by memories of violence – the day their daughters were violated, their husbands were lynched, and their homes were burned down. The violence against these women – displacement, mutilation, sexual abuse – is not the work of monsters but of men made monstrous by the banal rhythms of authority.
The history of violence against women during conflict is a tale as old as time, a poignant seam that ties narratives of conflicts worldwide. Women's bodies have been used as battlefields and symbols used to exert domination and power. What unites these atrocities is not their brutality but the everyday nature of their execution.
The breakdown of law became an opportunity for gendered violence to thrive. Violence against women persists in these spaces in subtle but equally devastating ways. They are left to fend for themselves, with no access to reproductive healthcare, trauma counselling, or safety, even as bureaucratic machinery moves papers in the name of "relief."
The overcrowded and under-resourced camps are also examples of systemic neglect. Privacy is a forgotten luxury, and lacking basic necessities exacerbates the suffering. Pregnant women live in precarious conditions; children grow up in a liminal space of trauma, leaving them with no hope of rebuilding their futures.
The state's failure to address these systemic issues exacerbates the suffering, turning relief camps into sites of prolonged trauma rather than healing.
India's Global Ambitions vs Domestic Failures
India's bid for a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) has gained traction after many current permanent members backed the council's expansion. However, this aspiration is complicated by an abrupt contrast between India's international ambitions and its domestic realities.
Chronic discrimination based on ethnicity, caste, and gender undermines fundamental human rights throughout the country.
In Manipur, Zomi-Kuki-Hmar communities' systematic marginalisation and displacement exemplify these failures. This is further exacerbated by the government's failure – or unwillingness – to address institutional indifference and structural vulnerabilities that affect migrants, asylum seekers, and Indigenous Peoples.
The situation in Manipur serves as an unsettling illustration of these systemic flaws. Prime Minister Narendra Modi's silence, punctuated by a vague statement in response to national outrage, reflects either indifference or a lack of strategy in dealing with the crisis. The administration of Chief Minister N Biren Singh, which has been accused of bias and complicity in the violence, has further undermined the state's credibility.
These domestic failures are not peripheral issues but core indicators of a country's commitment to human rights. Without addressing these inequities, India's ambitions for global leadership risk being overshadowed by domestic issues.
Impunity and Legal Apathy
India's obligations under international frameworks such as CEDAW (Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women), UNSC (United Nations Security Council) Resolution 1325, and the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) demand that it addresses gender-based violence in conflict zones and prevent ethnic discrimination. Yet, the absence of gender-sensitive policies in relief efforts and post-conflict negotiations continues to exclude women from decision-making processes.
In the case of Manipur, the perpetrators of violence against women operate in an environment of impunity, supported by the breakdown of the rule of law. It raises critical questions about the state's role and accountability under both national and international legal frameworks.
The magnitude of the conflict, fuelled by an unfounded rumour of an attack on Meitei women by the Kuki tribe, also highlights the state's failure to prevent propaganda designed to incite ethnic hatred. This neglect violates Article 8(2) of UNDRIP, which obligates states to combat such propaganda.
The conflict caused one of the most significant displacements around the world, where over 60,000 people have left their homes, and approximately 14,857 families are living in relief camps.
Relief camps, reliant on NGOs and civil society for basic sustenance, are emblematic of a governance structure that has failed its most vulnerable. This further illustrates the state's inability to provide adequate relief to women and children bearing the brunt of this crisis.
Addressing these gaps is not only a moral imperative but a prerequisite for any meaningful resolution to the conflict.
Human Rights Day: A Call to Action
As the world observes Human Rights Day, the plight of Manipur's women highlights the critical need for systemic change. Overcrowded relief camps serve as a stark reminder that the state has failed its people.
Kuki-Zomi women face additional marginalisation because they are barred from owning land, have no access to reproductive healthcare, and lack trauma counselling or adequate safety measures.
These conditions are not inevitable; they are the result of a system that normalises violence, eliminates accountability, and excludes women from the justice and recovery processes. The failure to enforce constitutional protections such as Articles 14 (equality before the law) and 21 (right to life and dignity) is a damning indictment of crisis-era governance.
However, despite systemic neglect, Manipur's women are far from passive victims. They advocate for peace, justice, and accountability. They confront the systems that have failed them by documenting atrocities, mobilising communities, and shaping grassroots initiatives.
Their voices echo in quiet defiance. Their lives demonstrate the tenacity of memory – the stubborn refusal to let the weight of violence and loss fade into silence.
The greatest danger is not the violence but the forgetting. To forget is to be complicit in the systems that enable such atrocities.
Women in Manipur resist for survival and to ensure that their stories are preserved. Their pain, courage, and fight are not just the remains of a tragedy but the seeds of transformation.
Justice for these women is more than just punishing perpetrators; it is about creating a future where no woman is left alone in the shadows of conflict. It is about honouring their defiance by dismantling the systems that enabled such violence to thrive and ensuring their inclusion in narratives of peace and healing.
On this Human Rights Day, let us continue their fight – not as saviours but as partners. Their resistance demonstrates that humanity can rise even in the darkest times – not through a grand revolution but through a quiet, unwavering commitment to remember, rebuild, and demand better.
(Jacqueline Chochoi has a bachelor's degree from St Joseph’s University, Bengaluru. She is currently a recipient of the Zubaan Young Researchers from Northeast (2024) as well as a National Gender Fellow. This is an opinion piece, and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)