The streets of the Imphal Valley are once again stained with the blood of its own people. In the latest surge of unrest, 18 civilians—including five women—have been injured during security forces’ actions in areas like Thinungei, Ningthoukhong, and Bishnupur today.
Reports speak of tear gas and mock bombs deployed even near hospitals, with ambulances reportedly not spared. This comes on the heels of a horrifying trigger: the April 7 bomb attack in Tronglaobi village near Moirang, where a projectile struck a sleeping family, killing two young Meitei children—a five-year-old boy and his six-month-old sister—and critically injuring their mother, the wife of a BSF jawan.
What followed was predictable yet preventable outrage. Protests erupted, a mob attacked a nearby CRPF camp, leading to firing that claimed three lives and left dozens injured. Curfews, internet suspensions, and road blockades have since gripped multiple districts.
The cycle repeats: a brutal attack on innocents sparks public fury, which meets a security response that, in turn, breeds fresh allegations of excess.This is not mere law and order failure. It is a symptom of governance that appears to treat peace and development as parallel tracks rather than inseparable companions.
The state government, under Chief Minister Y. Khemchand Singh, has ordered an NIA probe into the initial attack, held high-level meetings, and spoken of stern action in coordination with the Centre. It continues to highlight ongoing developmental works.
Yet, when grieving families and angry protesters take to the streets seeking justice for the murder of children, the response often feels heavy-handed and disconnected. Development projects cannot flourish amid fear, nor can infrastructure heal the wounds of repeated violence. Peace cannot be one-sided; justice cannot be selective.
The deeper malaise lies in the unresolved ethnic polarization that has torn Manipur since 2023. Armed Kuki militants exploit the fault lines, with cross-border elements and unchecked illegal arms adding lethal fuel. The Tronglaobi attack, allegedly by Kuki insurgents, is only the latest in a string of tragedies that have claimed hundreds of lives and displaced tens of thousands.
Leadership at this moment is not about issuing appeals for calm or emphasizing “development.” It demands visible empathy and decisive action. Leaders must stand with the people—valley and hills alike—rather than allowing narratives of demonization to take root. The innocent public protesting for accountability, especially after electing a government they trusted to deliver stability, deserves to be heard, not dismissed.
At the same time, storming security camps, turning legitimate grief into chaos that endangers more lives. Uncontrolled tension is indeed a sign that something is not fully manageable—or worse, that underlying forces are being allowed to simmer.
The people of Manipur have endured enough cycles of retaliation. Breaking this requires more than probes and curfews. It calls for transparent, impartial investigations into every incident: the children’s deaths, protester casualties, and any reported excesses by forces. It demands restraint where possible, community-level dialogue that includes all stakeholders, and concrete confidence-building steps—better protection for vulnerable villages, rehabilitation of the displaced, and a firm crackdown on armed groups operating with impunity.
True governance in a fractured society like Manipur means recognizing that security without justice breeds resentment, and development without peace remains hollow. The leadership must rise above political optics and one-community lenses.
Only an inclusive approach—firm on militancy, fair in handling protests, and empathetic toward all victims—can restore faith. The people of the valley, the hills, and the entire state deserve leaders who prioritize reconciliation over division.
The time for half-measures is over. Peace and justice must walk together, or neither will endure.
Enjoy the Editorial of Signpost News, edited every Tuesday.