The brazen claim by certain Kuki groups to vast swathes of Manipur’s hill areas—including ancestral Naga territories—as part of “Kukiland” or their historical homeland stands in stark contradiction to well-documented historical accounts.
British colonial records, including those from Residents William McCulloch (1844–1863) and Colonel Johnstone (1877–1886), describe significant influxes of “new immigrants” among the Kukis (often termed New Kukis) entering Manipur’s hill tracts primarily between the 1830s and 1840s, many fleeing pressures from southern tribes in the Chin and Lushai Hills or arriving as refugees amid regional upheavals.
These groups did not bring established land claims from Myanmar (then Burma) or the Chittagong Hill Tracts; instead, they sought shelter and settlement in areas already inhabited by indigenous Naga communities and under the suzerainty of the Manipur kingdom.
Despite this late entry—often as displaced migrants rather than original settlers—some Kuki narratives assert expansive ancestral rights over lands long recognized as Naga domains, fueling territorial assertions that disregard historical timelines and indigenous precedence.
This contradiction manifested starkly in the recent vandalism at Ireng Naga village in Kangpokpi district, where armed cadres allegedly from the Kuki National Front-President (KNF-P)—a signatory to the Suspension of Operations (SoO) agreement—defaced a village memorial stone with slogans proclaiming “Kukiland” and “Stay Away,” destroyed public property including a waiting shed and entry gate, and issued explicit threats of arson and harm.
Residents, fearing encroachment on their ancestral lands, blocked the Ireng road (part of the German/Tiger Road), stranding vehicles and voicing deep apprehensions over exclusionary territorial claims.
The incident unfolded mere months after the renewed SoO pact in September 2025 between the Union Home Ministry, Manipur government, and Kuki-Zo groups (under KNO and UPF umbrellas).
The agreement mandates adherence to the Constitution, respect for Manipur’s territorial integrity, renunciation of violence, no public display of arms, cessation of extortion and intimidation, camp relocation, Aadhaar-linked stipends, and joint monitoring for tripartite dialogue toward a constitutional settlement.
Yet, reports detail around 30 armed cadres advancing in combat gear, threats linked to figures like Tiger Kipgen, and no prompt public enforcement.Such provocations are not mere isolated acts; they revive longstanding Naga fears that “Kukiland” assertions encroach on ancestral territories.
Bodies like the Liangmai Naga Council have decried them as ethnic intimidation, territorial overreach, and psychological warfare against indigenous inhabitants, calling for FIRs under UAPA and NIA probes for SoO violations.
Why does this apparent impunity persist? The SoO framework, dating to the 1990s to halt Kuki-Naga clashes, offers designated camps, stipends, and operational moratoriums for compliant groups, with primary oversight by the Centre’s Joint Monitoring Group.
This setup, designed for dialogue—including reframed Kuki demands within constitutional limits—can grant leverage to outfits that breach rules when enforcement lags.
Amid ethnic divides and post-2023 violence, lax accountability fosters perceptions of selective protection, perhaps to preserve hill stability or navigate negotiations.
Naga communities, steadfast in their indigeneity, view these incidents as existential threats—eroding rights to lands held for generations.
While Naga and other groups face scrutiny, Kuki SoO outfits retain leverage, partly because the agreement serves as a tool for dialogue on their demands (historically a separate administration or territorial council, now framed within constitutional bounds).
Critics from Naga, Meitei, and other communities argue this empowers militants to assert territorial claims—”Kukiland” graffiti being a stark symbol—while security forces appear restrained,
The “Stay Away” inscription on a Naga memorial also signals forced exclusion from ancestral domains, echoing past conflicts that caused displacement and loss.
Is there a hidden agenda? The lack of swift accountability fuels speculation—whether it’s reluctance to alienate Kuki stakeholders amid ongoing ethnic fault lines, prioritization of countering larger insurgencies, or even tacit accommodation to maintain stability in hill areas.
The recent insolent actions in Ireng village—armed presence in combat uniforms, open threats, and property destruction—appear to flagrantly breach these commitments. No immediate or visible action against the perpetrators, including the named figure Tiger Kipgen (Thangboi Kipgen/Haogenthang Kipgen), raises legitimate questions: Who truly empowers these Kuki SoO groups to act with such impunity?
However, the pattern suggests systemic flaws more than conspiracy: a ceasefire meant to de-escalate has, in practice, sometimes enabled continued intimidation when enforcement is lax or delayed.
Genuine peace requires strict enforcement of the 2025 ground rules: swift investigations, camp audits, prosecutions for breaches, and open monitoring. Selective leniency erodes inter-community trust—among Nagas, Meiteis, and others—and heightens risks of escalation.
The residents of Ireng Naga village, facing genuine threats, merit not empty dialogue promises but firm legal safeguards for their land and security. Absent decisive action, Manipur’s road to reconciliation remains obstructed, just as the protested road itself. The Centre and state must prioritize accountability to avert broader conflagration.

Enjoy the Editorial of Signpost News, edited every Tuesday.