Contested Borders and Borderlands in Northeast India: (IL)Legitimate Claims of Naga Identity Assertion

Introduction

While much of the northeast used to be loosely governed as ‘frontier’ in colonial times, it is only with the emergence of modern states that borders as sharply drawn lines are supposed to differentiate one from another. The reorganisation of international borders, however, could not bring the historically existing economic and cultural continuities to an abrupt halt. These continuities, one must remember, do not necessarily exist as vestiges of the past, but are energised and re-articulated through a number of social and economic processes, the latest of which is perhaps globalisation and neo-liberalism. In fact, post-colonial states in the region—notwithstanding their mutually exclusive territories, in theory—have only tried to come to terms with such continuities. As a result, intermediate arrangements ranging from border trade to flexible visa regime have come into being. It becomes, therefore, vital to understand the nature of these arrangements that stand between the exclusive territorial claims of the modern states, on the one hand, and the global logic of expanding markets and the full integration of the region into the global political economy, on the other. The intermediate arrangements show how much borders can open in order to adjust to the newly emerging realities without losing their identity as borders. It is pertinent to ask, how do administrative borders create many other forms of borders within the society? These invisible borders set societies and economies apart—often independently of the state willingly creating them. But these borders do exist, often taking a toll on human relations and lives. Do these changes in our understanding of borders in theory compel us to revisit the ‘northeast’ as a borderland, as a land with many visible and invisible borders or as a partitioned society?

The complexities of ethnic boundaries by the laying of arbitrary borders without cognisance of the local context and the outline of policy-making that perceives ethnic groups as pre-modern and in want of development/growth have been the key experiential and ideational challenges. Therefore, the proposed framework policy requires a deep-seated discernment of the culture of identity acknowledgment and continuation. The challenge today for Nagas (and armed groups) is to convene the claim of common Naga identity representation, already run asunder by the territorial dissections induced by the modern states, as well as by the ruinous clan- or tribe-based fights that menace the belief of common ethnic identity. Otherwise, can Nagas nurture a common supra-national or transnational structure that offers an accepted platform to their life patterns and customs?

Nagas, while striving for a unified Naga identity (and homeland), had witnessed several shifts and changing phases, and the procedures have spilled over many other problems or, at the least, have intensified some of the existing issues in the region. On this count, the apex body of Naga civil society, that is, the Naga Hoho and its constituent Forum for Naga Reconciliation (FNR), appears to be combatting a losing fight to bring about reconciliation amid the various factions of Naga armed groups alienated along the ethnic lines or factional allegiances that override nationality. The key challenge en route for structuring a cohesive political unit is a disjointed identity affianced in internecine rivalry with bloodied ramifications, which is in resistance to the larger Naga identity. At the same time, Naga ethnic groups in their ancestral homeland, inhabiting the Naga Hills in the Indo-Myanmar trans-borders and the Indian north-eastern states, face the conflicting international frontiers between India and Myanmar as well as state administrative boundaries. The cartographic lines as recorded from the colonial historical accounts and other historians have no clear consistent historical records to rely as given boundary lines. For instance, between Manipur and Nagaland, both the 1842 line (Biggs–Gordon) and the 1872 line (Thomson–Butler) have been navigated in a hurry without understanding the local customary implications; therefore, they appear vague, imaginary and arbitrarily drawn. Thus, the varied traditions are in detrimental juxtaposition due to outer enforcement of state administrations and territorial cartographies, with grave inferences for the traditional homeland structure of these ethnic groups.

People with different cultures interact frequently across the borders, and many embody more than one cultural tradition. The very concept of borders—the boundary between one thing and another, the place where two cultures meet and co-exist, both a symbol of organising principles and a perplexing location that refuses to be neatly categorised—is evocative. Anthropologists interested in border studies have attempted to make general statements about how people construct and challenge boundaries. A great deal of literature on borders necessarily confronts theories of nations and nationalisms. Theorists have suggested that the identities of people living in borderlands also transcend boundaries and challenge any unified concept of self. Understanding identity in a place meant understanding the identity of a place. Places are always made, or constructed, by people. A place is a space that has a meaning, or multiple meanings. The term space, if space can be said to exist, denotes an empty area, a geographic field, a geometric condition. Place indicates a particular location, which is necessarily socially defined. As Keith Basso noted, for any cultural system, what counts as ‘place’ is an empirical question that must be answered ethnographically. His book, Wisdom Sits in Places (1996), demonstrates the ways in which places are also ‘spatial conceptions of history’. As such, a sense of place is deeply associated with both perceptions of the past and a sense of self or of individual identity (Basso, 1996 cited in Goldberg, 2006, pp. 275–276). In the same light, several border researchers have emphasised the way people at the border narrate their identities by constructing a sense of difference between themselves and other groups and places.

In recent years, historians have paid increasing attention to borders and borderlands as fluid sites of both national formation and local contestation. At their peripheries, nations and empires assert their power and define their identity with no certainty of success. For that matter, nation-making and border-making are inseparably intertwined. Nations and empires, however, often reap defiance from peoples uneasily bisected by the imposed boundaries. For instance, Taylor observes in his article, the process of border-making (and border defiance) has been especially tangled in the Americas where empires and republics projected their ambitions to a geography occupied and defined by Indians. Imperial or national visions ran against the tangled complexities of independent people, both native and invader. As such, the contests of rival Euro-American regimes presented risky opportunities for native people to suppress the rivals, on the one hand, and to preserve native autonomy and enhance their circumstances, on the other (Taylor, 2002, p. 55). Jeremy Adelman and Stephen Aron, in their essay, advanced a helpful distinction between ‘borderlands’ and ‘borders’. They argued that, in North American history, native peoples try to prolong broad and porous ‘borderlands’, but eventually became confined within the ‘borders’ of consolidated regimes imposed by invading Euro–Americans (cited in Taylor, 2002, p. 56).

Ethnic Groups, Multi-nations and Politics of Ethnicity

Heredia (1997) in his work explores ethnicity as a process, considering the relationship of ethnic identity and group identity and their manipulation in the dialectic of ethnic elites and social class, the resulting dilemma of developmental change and ethno-politics. He looks at the consequent conflict precipitated by this between nation-making and state-breaking, and suggests their solution is in a ‘civil-state’, as distinguished from a nation state. Ethnicity should be seen as a historical phenomenon, subordinated to existing class and centre–periphery contradictions, and as an element operating in cultural dialectics. Obviously, ethnicity refers to some kind of ‘collective identity’. But what the context of a particular identity would be, what group experiences will give rise to it, how this leads to self-awareness—all this must be located within the social context and material history of an ethnic group. Only then can the delicate balance between objective features and subjective consciousness, which defines group identity and maintains group boundaries, be grasped. To assume otherwise is to imply that the ascriptive and exclusive characteristics that make for collective identities and group boundaries are ahistorical and static (Barth, 1969 cited in Heredia, 1997, p. 1010). Here, we problematise ethnicity as a dynamic process in which a social unit produces and reproduces itself. This is crucial to identifying which group characteristics will be activated and how the group will define and mobilise itself vis-à-vis the social structures in which it is embedded (David, 1989 cited in Heredia, 1997, p. 1010).

The location of ethnicity as a process within the class structure is critical in distinguishing the two orientations of the phenomena involved:

Ethnicity can serve as an element of support for the hegemony of the dominant classes and of the state. In this case, ethnic strategies confirm the state, its policies and the status quo of class domination.

The ‘definitional debate’ on ethnic groups and ethnicity have yielded a ‘medley of meanings’ that has served more to underline the ambiguities and flexibilities of these concepts than to bring any real consensus and clarity to the discussion. International Encyclopaedia of the Social Sciences defines, ‘an ethnos group is a distinct category of the population in a larger society whose culture is usually different from its own’ (Morris, 1968, p. 167). Such a category remains a mere aggregate until the group members become inter-related through interactions, that is, ‘are bound to one another by formal, institutionalised rules and characteristics, informal behaviour’ (ibid., p. 168). Ethnicity then is the phenomenon of an ethnic group coming to a self awareness that enables it to affirm its identity and pursue its interests. Thus, ethnicity can be explained as the summation of its impulses and motivations for power and recognition—the driving force in the emergence of ethnic movements. In other words, ethnicity is to ethnic category what class consciousness is to class.

Nationalism, like the idea of progress, has its roots in the modernist enlightenment. Both were useful to motivate and mobilise peoples, and to create a collective identity and consciousness. But such homogenisation is never really complete and is often vigorously resisted. Brass (1991) on which basis explains, when an ethnic group demands for an autonomous political recognition and formal expression, either within an existing state or in state of its own, becomes a nationality or a nation. In other words, it becomes an ethnic community politicised with recognised group rights in the political system. Thus, as an ethnic category becomes conscious of its ethnicity, it evolves into a community. When this community becomes politically articulate and organised, it develops into a nation, though not all such ethnic nations will have their own sovereign state. Hence, there is a necessity to distinguish ‘ethnic nationalism and state-centred nationalism’, though both involve a process of ‘identity formation’ through ‘multi-symbol congruence’, whether those symbols are ethnic attributes or loyalty to a particular state (Brass, 1991). This is how ‘imagined communities’ become nations (Anderson, 1983) through ‘the invention of traditions’ (Hobsbawn, 1983 cited in Heredia, 1997, p. 1014).

Heredia (1997) summarises, when an ethnic group becomes an ethnic community, which in turn develops into an ethnic nation and demands its own nation state, two kinds of nationalism can be distinguished—ethnic and state. But neither of these guarantees an adequate political model to address the fundamental issues involved—issues of social pluralism and distributive justice, of group identity and personal dignity, of ethnic diversity and cultural rights, of economic equality and political participation. Hence, beyond the nation state, a civil state embedded in a civilisational order is required. This will make possible a multi-nation state in a multi-cultural society.

To juxtapose Heredia’s position, McRoberts (2001), in the context of Canadian politics and the presence of several nations within Canada, explains, ‘multi-national’ is not the most fortuitous of terms. It has far too many other meanings like, for instance, ‘plurinational’. Along with the nations created by states, there are ‘internal nations’ within states. Several such nations exist within the Canadian state, representing close to one quarter of the population. Canadian political scientists have been actively theorising this multi-nationalism and showing how it might be accommodated. Yet, the political realm has become highly resistant to such notions. Dualism, the primary historical accommodation of the Francophone ‘internal nation’, has been displaced by a state nationalism, which in turn has entrenched a purely territorial rationale for federalism and has made multiculturalism the only legitimate basis for accommodating cultural diversity. Moreover, the nationalisms of the two predominant ‘internal nations’—Quebec and ‘First Nations’—have been mobilised in direct opposition to each other. In the end, rather than constituting a new form of ‘post-modern state’ which transcends nationalism, Canada is in fact caught in the contradiction between the nationalism of the Canadian state and the nationalisms of its ‘internal nations’.

The contemporary interest in the multi-national state has been propelled by the gathering of evidence that political life is itself increasingly shaped by the presence of multiple nations. Clearly, the best efforts of most nation states to eliminate their longstanding minority nations or ‘historic nations’, whether by persuasion or by outright repression, have failed. In some cases, these are populations that saw themselves as nations long before the nation state was formed; indeed, eliminating these nationalisms was a primary purpose of the nation state from the outset. Examples would be Croatia or Slovenia and their sustained resistance to a Yugoslav nation state. In other cases, the sense of nationhood emerged within an established state, as with Catalan nationalism which did not emerge until the late 19th century. Either way, most of these nationalisms seem to be stronger than ever (McRoberts, 2001, p. 687).

By all the conventional indicators, Canada is clearly multi-national in its composition. In the 1960s, Quebec Francophones began to see their nation as Quebec, rather than French Canada. Surveys show that Francophones in Quebec see themselves primarily as Quebecois. At the same time, many also see themselves as Canadian, however secondary that identification may be. Instances show that relations between the pan-Canadian and Quebec-based organisations may be quite harmonious. Nonetheless, their existence reflects distinct, even competing ideas of nationhood. Claims of Quebec nationhood have drawn many criticisms. If the nation is territorial and extends to the entire population within Quebec, what is the status of the cultural and ethnic minorities or, in Quebec government parlance, the cultural communities? Yet, these ambiguities about the precise boundaries of the Quebec nation do not weaken the contention that such a nation exists. Nor have regular criticisms along these lines muted the sense of most Quebeckers, that there is indeed a national collectivity, of which they are part, and that they are following a long, historical tradition in seeing themselves this way (McRoberts, 2001).

The idea of Francophone national collectivity (or collectivities) has been joined by a claim to nationhood on the part of Aboriginal leaders calling itself as First Nations. The term ‘first nations’ reflects a renewed use of the term ‘nation’. The name National Indian Brotherhood created in 1968 was renamed as Assembly of First Nations in 1982. The Royal Commission on Aboriginal Peoples declared that there are between 60 and 80 distinct aboriginal nations in Canada. Nor are these aboriginal nations clearly delimited territorially; about half the aboriginal population lives in urban areas. Nonetheless, aboriginal leaders have been remarkably successful in securing international sympathy and recognition for the claims to constitute nations or people—indeed, more successful than their Quebec counterparts (McRoberts, 2001). Therefore, by the 1990s, the ‘binational’ formulation in Canada was replaced by ‘three nations’, in which aboriginal peoples were presented as a third national collectivity. Bi-nationalism became multi-nationalism, but by and large, multi-nationalism stood for a ‘three nation’ vision.

The fact of the matter is that, while many states are multi-national in their composition, very few of them actually function as multi-national states. Switzerland is often cited as a model, yet it hardly qualifies; it does not even have internal nations. Spain does not recognise its multi-nationalism to any real extent. Nigeria has been cited, but its federalism is resolutely territorial. Malaysia might be seen as multi-national on the basis of the central state’s asymmetric relations with the two Borneo states, although the official state discourse has sought to implant a new, resolutely Malaysian national identity. India and Belgium would clearly qualify as states that function on a multi-national basis. But they do not have the distinctively Canadian situation wherein the territorial principle of federalism has competed with, and ultimately defeated the notion that federalism might accommodate cultural and national differences. Not only was federalism based on the latter principle from the outset, but all the units also do possess such a distinctiveness. Yet, neither state may be attractive models for those who value high levels of political stability. Given the state of affairs, McRoberts suggests that Canada has uniquely transcended the alternatives of nation state and multi-national state to constitute something totally new: a ‘post-modern state’ that points the way to emerging world cosmopolitanism (McRoberts, 2001, pp. 711–713).

Naga Identity Movement: Tracing Historicity and Changing Phases

In the given backdrop, this section of the article attempts to locate the Nagas. It is also an effort to trace or revisit the Naga struggle—or, for that matter, how is the homeland politics justified? Tracing historicity, the major initial phenomenon which instigated Naga identity assertion was the growing discontent amongst the Nagas on account of their inability to adjust themselves to the emerging socio-political situations on the eve of India’s independence and the impending withdrawal of the British Raj. The fear of interference and exploitation by the ‘plainsmen’ and assumed danger of encroachment upon their ‘cultural autonomy’ were linked with the fear of losing their land and forests. The Naga struggle encompasses a unique history and an extensive track of ethno-political mobilisation. Nagas have consistently argued that Naga nationalism is a political issue and not an issue of economic egoism or economic internal colonialism, and therefore claim a political framework to resolve it.

The origin of the Naga movement can be traced first to the formation of a Naga Club in the year 1918. The Naga Club was the first organisation of its kind then theoretically combining all the Nagas. When the Simon Commission visited Kohima, the Naga Club submitted a memorandum to it and requested that the Naga Hills should be kept outside the scheme of political reforms. It shows that a collective consciousness of Naga identity and solidarity had grown among the Naga tribesmen. The next landmark in the historical background of the Naga movement was the inception of ‘Naga Hills District Tribal Council’ in 1945. This council was subsequently changed to ‘Naga National Council’ (NNC) in 1946. The birth of NNC as the political forum of all the Naga tribes for the first time is considered to be the origin and beginning of the modern phase of the movement. NNC is said to have given a sense of ethnic and geo-political unity to the Naga tribes. In 1946, the British government had a scheme of carving out a Trust Territory comprising the Naga Hills, the then North-East Frontier Agency (NEFA) area and part of Burma as ‘Crown Colony’ under the control of London. Sir Coupland proposed a joint responsibility of the British and the independent Indian and Burmese governments for their territory after the transfer of power from the British. The educated Nagas of the NNC, however, opposed this idea of the extended British colonisation (Das, 1982, 1993, p. 33; cited in Kikhi, 2017, pp. 599–600).

The goals and objectives of the Naga movement from 1947 onwards had developed through a number of phases. At first, from 1947 to 1954, the Naga Hills remained comparatively quiet and no violence was used. In 1948, when A. Z. Phizo was elected president of NNC, its goals and temper had changed in favour of ‘independence’. In opposition to the Sixth Schedule of the Indian Constitution, thus, the 1951 elections to constitute the District Councils and the General Elections of 1952 were boycotted. It was in 1954, however, that the violence became widespread. In March 1956, certain sections of the Nagas established a ‘Naga Federal Government’. Then, a section of the liberal Nagas resigned from the NNC and sought to bring the conflict to an early end through peaceful negotiations. Subsequently, in 1957, the Baptist church came out with a condemnation of the violence. As a result of the new developments, the ‘All Tribes Naga People’s Convention’ was constituted.

To put in brief, the evolution of Naga nationalism after Indian independence has to be understood on how the Indian government has managed the conflict and how Indian containment policies have intensified Naga nationalism. India sees ‘the Nagas’ as a colonial legacy, the Naga territory as an integral part of the Indian state and Nagas’ demand as leading to the breaking up of the Indian union (Lotha, 2013). Thus, Nagas have been seen as a threat to Indian nation-building. India claims it inherited the Naga Hills from the British and considers the Naga conflict as a law and order problem led by misguided persons. From the beginning, India has approached the Naga issue with a colonial mindset towards minorities and ethnic groups, and as such has perpetuated the conflict by a ditto response. Through the Nine Point Agreement signed between the Government of India (GOI) and the NNC on 9 June 1947, on constitutional amendments, ceasefire political talks and the latest framework agreements, the Indian government has tried to handle the Indo–Naga conflict. But the question remains, has India managed it correctly and successfully? (Kikhi, 2010, p. 149, 2017, pp. 601–602).

The Naga struggle has caused numerous things to ensue swiftly. Perhaps, Nagas have underestimated how Delhi would interpret their being made a part of India at the eastern fringes by the British against their wishes when the bureaucrats would eventually discover the stand the Naga pioneers had taken. Before they realised what was happening, the struggle gave birth to the state of Nagaland. To the majority of the Nagas, it was an illegitimate birth. The state was Delhi’s response to the challenge and crisis that the Nagas presented to the newly established Indian Republic. B. K. Nehru, speaking from his experiences as Governor of Nagaland, said the state was a mistake, too hastily conceived and born. Delhi was desperately keen for its child to succeed. However, its boundless generosity and permissive discipline spoiled the child. The fact is, both Delhi and the Nagas need the state equally today, pending a settlement (Iralu, 2009, pp. 22–23).

In the midst of ceasefire, the factions of the Naga struggle have been barking at one another through newspapers, carrying out mutual assassinations, ceaselessly collecting taxes, each group sequestered in their hates and in their respective camps. Meanwhile, the rest of the Nagas continue to wait and watch helplessly, not knowing how to transform the barking into honest conversations and dialogues to evolve the solutions they need. Because the non-combatants are still so used to their traditional securities of their tribes, they are tentative or not transparent in their interactions with one another, such that reaching out to one another across the divides of distrust, uncertainties and ill will to create the envisioned Naga identity is desperately ineffective but wanting. One can wonder meanwhile just what the brains in Delhi, paid to plan an end to ‘the Naga nuisance’, must be doing. (Iralu, 2009, p. 22). We need a solution, and perhaps there is no better time than today. ‘The broad-based political package’ earlier offered by the GOI, which was declared by the Union Home Secretary, G. K. Pillai, seems to have vanished.

Naga ‘Framework Agreement’ (FA) and Differing (Nuanced) Models

The latest ‘Naga Peace Pact’ or the popular ‘Framework Accord’ signed on 3 August 2015 after 80 rounds of talk between the GOI (led by R. N. Ravi) and National Socialist Council of Nagalim (Isak-Muivah) (NSCN-IM) has been stated as the beginning of the new future and an end to the Indo–Naga problem. This pact gives hope of a solution, giving the Nagas a legitimate identity whereby both the GOI and the group appreciate and respect each other’s position and difficulties. On the other hand, paper wars have started, with so many speculations and mistrust without knowing what is there in the pact. Scholars have raised questions on whether this pact has the best possible offer for both India and the Nagas. Other scholars have argued about how long to wait, as there is an urgent necessity to end the Naga problem.

It is not clear whether the agreement meets the demand of NSCN-IM for the integration of all Naga-inhabited areas in the northeast across Manipur, Arunachal Pradesh and Assam. This claim has counter claims which eventually evoke deeply resentful responses from the other ethnic groups in Assam, Manipur and Arunachal Pradesh. A group of Naga scholars are of the opinion that ‘integration’ or ‘no-integration’, should be decided by the people themselves through a plebiscite as in the case of Scotland voting for independence from Great Britain. In the words of V. S. Atem, there is no ‘greater Nagaland or smaller Nagaland’. He maintained that Nagas were divided by ‘arbitrary orders’ of the British government and, subsequently, the Indian government, and called for returning the land belonging to the Nagas. On the opposition raised by the chief ministers of Assam, Arunachal Pradesh and Manipur on the integration of all Naga-inhabited areas, the NSCN-IM leader said the Nagas’ problem cannot be solved through ‘Manipuri interest or Assamese interest’. Atem added, ‘We are not trying to grab any Manipur land or Assamese land’, nor was NSCN-IM infringing on the life of Assamese or Manipuris or any other people, but ‘we were fighting for our right’ (United News of India, 2015, August 15).

According to a reliable report, the present framework agreement has taken note of a ‘20-point charter of demands’ presented by the NSCN-IM beforehand. The report states, GOI has not endorsed all the demands. Some of the proposals and demands of the NSCN-IM under ‘shared sovereignty’ regime, which have become a contestation, are as follows:

An independent constitution, incorporating a clearly defined co-federal relationship with India;

Similarly, several recent stipulations based on unauthenticated leaks indicate a separate constitution, a separate flag and facility of a separate passport for the Nagas. One leak substantiating the above demands indicates that ‘Nagas would have a UN representative though the foreign affairs and defense would be a joint subject and the Pan-Naga government will cover all Naga inhabited areas (Guruswamy, 2017)’.

Paraphrased as ‘Framework Agreement’, the Indo–Naga Peace Agreement demonstrates a paradigm shift with multiple nuances. It is understood that detailed provisions are not divulged, although some announcements, claims and leaks and their many interpretations, pertaining to sovereignty and territoriality issues, have made the situation fuzzy. Various activists, media persons and Naga scholars remain unimpressed, and they question the method adopted in this endeavour. It is declared that there is admiration for perspectives on both sides and the agreement recognises the ‘unique’ history and culture of Naga people. However, critiques raise if the Naga leaders have affirmed allegiances to the Indian constitution leaving aside the demand of Naga territorial integration. Likewise, Sema (cited in The Naga Republic, September 28, 2018) critically analyses the salient contents of the FA, unearthing the two major concerns, model of shared sovereignty and pan-Naga Hoho.

There are several differing (nuanced) models, both old and new, drawn from diverse cultures and traditions, that could provide as exemplary and equivalents for Naga struggle. These ethnic groups are geographically placed under different administrations with borders but demanding for a political consensus as one nation based on their unique culture and history. Most of these cultures are in detrimental juxtaposition due to outer enforcement of state administrations and territorial cartographies, with a grave inference for the traditional homeland structure of these ethnic groups. These are instances of affiliated ethnic groups and tribal clans looking for common ground for concerted political objectives. For instance, the Six Nations in North America, also called the Iroquois, was a confederacy of different Native American ethnic groups. Today, this powerful super-group has unified independent governance, and lives both in the United States and Canada (Goswami, 2014). Like the Iroquois, the Nagas can form a common supra-national or transnational structure that offers an accepted platform to their life patterns and customs. However, the major signpost of the Naga movement has been the determined bargain of ‘shared sovereignty’ vis-à-vis the demand for territorial integration of Naga-inhabited areas.

Alan Taylor (2002) contextualises the land of the Iroquois Indians transiting from one borderland into two bordered lands: the State of New York in the American Republic and the province of Upper Canada in the British Empire. He writes:

At Paris in 1873, British and American negotiators concluded the War of the American Revolution, recognising the independence of the United States while reserving the Canadian provinces to the British Empire. American independence and Canadian dependence required a new boundary between the young republic and the lingering empire… The thirty-six-mile-long Niagara River assumed a contradictory new role as an international boundary. A natural place of communication, passage, and mixing became redefined as a place of separation and distinction.

Along the Niagara River, the Iroquois Six Nations clung to their position as autonomous keepers of a perpetual and open-ended borderland, a place of exchange and interdependence. Recognising their own weakness in numbers and technology, the natives sought renewed strength in their geographic and political position between the Americans and the British. By exploiting the lingering rivalry between the republic and the empire, the Iroquois Six Nations hoped to remain intermediate and autonomous rather than divided and absorbed by the rivals. The natives conceived of their borderland as porous at both ends to the reception of information and trade goods and for the free movement of their people… As gatekeepers of a borderland, the Six Nations enjoyed a leverage that would be lost if divided and confined by an artificial border defined as a precise geographic line where two Euro-American powers met and asserted control over all inhabitants within their respective bounds. (Taylor, 2002, pp. 56–57)

It has to be understood that before the American Revolution, the Six Iroquoian Nations sustained a loose confederation of villages located south of Lake Ontario and east of Lake Erie, within the territory claimed by the colony of New York. From east to west, the Six Nations were the Mohawk (in the Mohawk valley), the Oneida and the Tuscarora (both south of Lake Oneida), the Cayuga and the Onondaga (in the Finger Lakes regions), and the especially numerous Seneca (in the Genesee, Allegheny and Niagara valleys). Culturally similar, they spoke kindred languages of the Iroquoian family. Their villages were modest in size—rarely inhabited by more than 500 people—and their population aggregated to about 9,000 on the eve of the War of American Revolution. They occupy and cultivate the most fertile pockets of alluvial soil, and reserve most of their broad hinterland as a forest for hunting and gathering. American settlers had coveted these vast hinterlands, which they regarded as wasted upon Indians, to properly rededicate to their own farm-making. The War proved catastrophic for the Six Nations, left them divided and dislocated, suffering devastating raids which destroyed almost all the villages. The violent dislocations also promoted malnutrition and disease, combining to reduce Iroquois numbers from a pre-War 9,000 to a post-War 6,000. The majority of the Iroquois allied with the British as their best bet for resisting expansionist settlers, but suffered a shocking betrayal, for the treaty did not even mention them, treating the natives as mere pawns passed into American control (Taylor, 2002).

During the early 1790s, the Six Nations’ chiefs found themselves courted by two ardent and generous suitors in the form of hospitality to chiefs and their delivery of presence (mostly cloth, jewellery, gunpowder and shot). Recognising the centrality of property to Euro–Americans, Indians regarded generosity as the measure of their sincerity. With rapid successions and treaties, the Americans took command along the border with Canada. With the new situation, on 21 September 1796, the new American commandant at Niagara, Captain James Bruff, held a council with the Six Nations to explain their new situation within an American boundary: ‘lines are fixed and so strongly marked between us (the British and the Americans), that they cannot be mistaken, and every precaution will be taken to prevent a misunderstanding’. Bruff’s speech alarmed the Six Nations as an assault on three long-standing rights: rewards for deserters, open communication with both empires and official hospitality to visiting chiefs (Taylor, 2002). The Six Nations did not acquiesce quietly. In his pointed reply, Red Jacket (on behalf of the Chiefs) argued that the Six Nations remained an autonomous people situated between the British and the Americans:

You are a cunning people without sincerity, and not to be trusted, for after making Professions of your Regard, and saying everything favourable to us, you… tell us that our Country is within the lines of the States. This surprises us, for we had thought our lands were our own, not within your boundaries, but joining the British, and between them. But now you have got round us and next (to) the British, you tell us we are inside your lines… we had always thought that we (ad)joined the British and were outside your lines. (cited in Taylor, 2002, p. 66)

The conflict in June 1812 and its consequences resulted in keeping the Iroquois divided and apart, as was preferred both by the Americans and the British. The episode demonstrated that the imposed border had divided the Six Nations, subordinating each side to a rival empire. After the Americans and the British made peace in late 1814, they both lost interest in the Six Nations as allies. Instead, both empires viewed the Indians fundamentally as obstacles to economic development. From the end of the American Revolution in 1783 through the War of 1812, the Americans contended to realise and master the boundary imagined by the peace treaty that concluded the first conflict. For the Americans, securing that boundary required subordinating the Iroquois Six Nations and discouraging their ties with the British side. The process was reciprocal, for once the Americans gained a secure perch on the Niagara River, they could consolidate their ascendency over the Indians by restricting movement, regulating trade, demanding land cessions and enforcing criminal jurisdiction. After 1796, the Indians gradually lost the leverage they had previously exercised to prolong their autonomy within a perpetual borderland. However, the Six Nations people never accepted their division by boundary or the denial of native sovereignty implicit in that boundary. To this day, Indian activists especially defend Article III of the Jay Treaty, which guarantees their rights to freely pass and re-pass over the international boundary. The native challenge to boundary restrictions suggests that the Canadian–American border will remain a contested ground—with new possibilities of fluidity, as well as renewed pressures from officials for greater closure (Taylor, 2002).

In a like manner, the British imperialists had conveniently, and solely for administrative purpose, placed Naga tribes in different colonial provinces which were simply inherited by independent India without any change. In the present context, Nagas inhabit not only the state of Nagaland but also the adjoining areas of other states (Manipur, Assam, Arunachal Pradesh) and also the adjoining areas of Myanmar. For this reason, we need to critically look at the imperialist British, being partly responsible for today’s imbroglio vis-à-vis borders and borderlands. We need to revisit history and colonial navigations, as the areas under contention were never navigated properly or navigated without the consent of the indigenous people (or without knowing the complexities and the actual ancestral custodians). As erudite from the colonial historical accounts, there are no clear, consistent historical records to rely on as regards boundary lines between the states. Therefore, the present political boundaries, on which basis the present modern states are divided, are vague, imaginary and arbitrarily drawn. This article, therefore, envisages a necessity to relook at the drawn cartographies on the basis of Naga claims for integration.

In contrast to the success (or simply symbolical) of the Iroquois was the Great Sioux Nation composed of various ethnic groups whose ancestral native lands once stretched across thousands of square kilometres in the Great Plains of the USA and Canada. The Sioux were fearsome warriors, but alienated along allegiance, subsequently lost a major portion of their enclaves to the intruding US forces, including the Black Hills, which are sacred grounds for the Sioux since ancient times but remain lost to them till today. Therefore, the once-proud Sioux have been shrunk to living on the scattered lands of their ancestors. In 2007, a group of Sioux journeyed to Washington DC to reclaim their independence and sovereignty. Comparably, the multi-national struggle of the Kurds in the Middle East (the Kurds of Kurdistan) is presently a nation in the creation in a trans-border dispute region adjoining with Armenia, Iran, Iraq, Syria and Turkey.

Again, this article intends to bring forth the unique model in Bhutan, which, with several ethnic groups and one dominant group controlled by the absolute monarchy, has recently evolved into modern Bhutan, making a successful transition from monarchy to a constitutional democracy (Goswami, 2014). In other words, we find in the Bhutan model a unique but relative and replicable model of administrative and democratic justice. Wangchuk (2004) in his article explicates the conditions conducive to foster democracy in Bhutan. He argues that village society in Bhutan is fundamentally democratic, but the state is not. He proposes the state can be democratised by formalising traditional institutions. In promoting village institutions, the primary democracy of the village is embraced, which values justice and equality as much as democracy and where a ‘substantial stock of social capital in the form of norms of reciprocity and networks of civic engagement’ exists (Putnam, cited in Wangchuk, 2004, p. 855). Democratic justice is favoured as the middle path towards which the state, society and the individual in Bhutan should strive. It has been argued that the element already exists at the levels of the individual and society, from a cultural heritage that cherishes personal agency and potential and traditional village institutions such as the zomdu.

The village zomdu embodies what Dahl terms ‘primary democracy’ occurring at the village level. The village in Bhutan is small enough that participation is interwoven with the totality of community life (Dahl, cited in Wangchuk, 2004, pp. 841–842). As a community, village life in Bhutan is highly interdependent. No villager can survive on his or her own without the cooperation of other villagers. From building a house to sharing farm labour, a complex web of mutual obligations exists. When such reciprocity vanished, villagers traditionally wielded the corrective and effective tool of severe ostracism to socially and economically isolate non-compliant households. Closed hearth and closed water restrictions were issued, under which villagers agreed not to enter an ‘exiled’ household, and the household itself was banned from using the common village spring. Although formally banned by the government, this threat is still evoked, especially against wealthier households that may not feel the need to participate in community obligations and activities as much as poorer households do. There are instances where the village practised primary democracy in managing its affairs, though at times hobbled by inefficiency and the high cost of reaching accord.

A more positive example of social capital in action comes from eastern Bhutan. The village Melphay in Trashigang practises a simple tradition of labour sharing. One working member from each household forms part of a work group that provides services to each and every household in the village on a rotating basis, during the busy maize-planting and harvesting seasons. Every month, on the tenth day, Household A, for example, would be assured of having a large workforce available for planting, weeding or harvesting crops. If the members of a non-compliant household freeloaded or shirked their civic responsibility, the household simply lost the use of this valuable service. The cost of monitoring and enforcing this labour sharing is minimal. The question raised on this backdrop is, can the government tap into the existing wealth of social capital in rural areas to facilitate a national transition? While the village organisation is fundamentally democratic in nature, yet, the modern Bhutanese nation state is based on the rationalised Western bureaucratic model. The top-down style of the state differs markedly from the bottom-up model preferred in the villages (Wangchuk, 2004, pp. 843–845).

In equivalent terms, a non-divulged provision in the FA appreciates bottom-up democracy in the form of recognising traditional village institutions, that is, ‘Village Councils’. A close corollary can be drawn, as ‘Nagas’ too identified themselves more strongly with the ‘village’. For that matter, all lands and land tenures in Nagaland are regulated and governed by the customary laws. To put in brief, village is the unit of administration of all customs relating to land. No transfer of immovable property shall be affected without the consent of the Village Council, and every written record is maintained by the Village Council. The land relations, ownership patterns and inheritance are governed by customary law in a ‘Naga village’. Article 371(A), which has constitutional guarantee, protects and allows customary laws to control land in Nagaland. Therefore, village becomes the primary space of examination to trace the interface of land, identity and customary laws.

Conclusion

To conclude, this article, on the one hand, has attempted to probe into the complexities of ethnic boundaries by the imposition of arbitrary borders with little regard to local realities (complexities), while on the other hand, it critically investigates the structure of policy-making that views ethnic groups as pre-modern and in want of development. It argues that the proposed Naga ‘Framework Agreement’ entails a deep-seated discernment of the culture of identity acknowledgment and continuation vis-à-vis its (il)legitimate claims. It opens up a challenge discourse for the Nagas (and the armed groups), which is to convene the claim of common Naga identity representation, already run asunder by the territorial dissections induced by the modern states (simply inheriting the British colonial legacy), as well as by the internecine clan- or tribe-based fights that menace the belief of a common ethnic identity. It also questions the possibility of Nagas nurturing a common supra-national or transnational structure that offers an accepted platform to their life patterns and customs.

If the framework solution is heavily weighed down with just special economic packages, then the authors bravely argue that the previous government experiences are debatable. It is, in this context, necessary to critically question the flow of money in the form of special economic packages earmarked for the state(s) from the successive central governments. It has to be understood that many of these funds are pacifying packages for the Naga struggle. Nagas over the years have learnt (or rather been spoiled) to beg for anything and everything in the name of peace projects to tackle the unique Naga issue. But the state(s) continue(s) to decelerate even while several special economic packages have been put in operation. These huge funds from the federal exchequer are pocketed by a few elites of the state(s) who have emerged as alternative and competing elites (or local elites). When abundant money is injected into the economy without due accountability, it creates a regime of corruption (Kikhi, 2009, p. 356). This regime of corruption has become systemic because it has institutionalised a corrupted system which involves a parasitic government and a subsequent parasitic society, which is an arguable discourse.

Very crucially, the article explores the several nuanced exemplary models drawn from diverse cultures, particularly amongst those ethnic groups with akin cultures and history but are geographically placed under different administrations with cartographic borders. Most of the cultures explored in this article are also in detrimental juxtapositions due to outer enforcement of state administrations and territorial cartographies, with grave inferences for the traditional homeland structure of the ethnic groups. These are nuanced instances of affiliated ethnic groups and tribal clans looking for common ground for concerted political goals, as seen amongst the Iroquois Six Nations, the Great Sioux Nation, the Kurds of Kurdistan, multi-national Canada and constitutional–democratic Bhutan. The differing versions, with further insightful research, could be referred to as commendable models and pathways for the Indo–Naga solution, to bring permanent peace to the region of northeast India.