Reconfiguring the Tribe: Changing Ethnic Affiliations in India’s Northeast

Introduction

On 8 September 2020, the apex bodies of the four constituent tribes of Zeliangrong Naga came together and released a press statement. ‘Inpui Union, Liangmai Naga Council, Rongmei Naga Council and Zeme Naga Council are the only legitimate bodies that legally represent the voice[s] of the respective tribes’, the statement asserted. ¹ The press release also clarified that they not only dissociate themselves but also delegitimise the two existing tribal bodies—the Zeliangrong Baudi and the Zeliangrong Union—representing the ‘Zeliangrong’ community. This reminded me of an interview with a tribal council leader sometime in January 2019, whose insights conveyed a similar point of view. ‘For too long, we Zeliangrong brothers have been sharing a plate’, he said. ‘It is now time to have a plate of our own’. The leader’s statement is aboveboard. At once, it recognises the historical roots of Zeliangrong kinship, while admitting the lingering sentiment of wanting to be separate entities. Why is this so? This essay traces the historical trajectory of the Zeliangrong people who sought to come together as one people at one point in time, and how today, with the changing political climate they find it more favourable to divide.

The Zeliangrong people, now increasingly referred to as Zeliangrong-Inpui (or Zeliangrongpui), is a sub-group within the Naga, inhabiting three states in India’s Northeast, Assam, Manipur and Nagaland. Comprising of four tribes, namely Zeme, Liangmai, Rongmei and Inpui, the name of the conglomerate ‘Zeliangrong’ was coined in 1947. The narration in the introductory paragraph is an outcome of the unresolved aspirations of the Zeliangrong people in the contemporary historical moment. It is an upshot of the challenges arising out of geographical divide, internal politics, the race for resources, but also religious–cultural factors. These factors have impelled them to contestation and infighting among the four constituent groups of Zeliangrong. It has also, on occasions, caused them to drift away from their origin story as a descendant from one family. The Zeliangrong case is emblematic of the larger vernacular politics in India’s Northeast, in that it is constantly changing, and is always attuned to the present. It suggests that identity politics in the region is neither linear nor static but always emerging; it arranges in new ways both temporally and spatially. I argue that vernacular politics in India’s Northeast is always a work in progress.

I begin by tracing and placing the origins of the Zeliangrong Naga, as told by Zeliangrong elders, and circulating origin and migration stories. Then, focusing on ethnic alignment and realignment I describe the inception of the Zeliangrong movement that erupted in the 1920s. At first, the rebellion advocated a Naga Raj ² through the ousting of the colonial government. In the latter years, it changed direction and reduced its ambitions to the creation of a Zeliangrong homeland that would unite the Zeliangrong people. Drawing on both historical sources as well as fresh ethnography—through intermittent fieldwork conducted in the winter months of 2018, 2019 and 2023—I illustrate how today the shared Zeliangrong ethnic identity has come under strain and is increasingly contested internally. Its constituent groups now express divergent political aspirations, while also struggling over status, standing and dominance within.

Origin Stories and Tales of Migration

Akin to many other Naga tribes, the Zeliangrong people trace their ancestral origins to Makhel, in present-day Mao, Manipur (Kamei, 2004). The Zeliangrong trails of migration, and among the Nagas at large, are mired with ambiguity, and there exist a certain degree of variation in the narration of origin stories. ‘It is actually hard to tell the exact time and trails of migration’, a village elder once admittedly told me. The knowledge of migration had been passed down to him by older generations before him orally. Also over time, the elder explained, some become more knowledgeable than others, while also varying in emphasis depending on where the person inhabits. Even so, in all my conversations with village elders, leaders and local scholars, it was agreed upon that the Zeliangrong people’s ancestral home is Makuilongdi (also in present-day Manipur), a concordant translation for which is ‘big round mountain’. At Makuilongdi, owing to population growth and its repercussions on their habitat, oral histories often recounted about three brothers representing Zeme, Liangmai and Rongmei who decided to part ways in different directions. The oldest brother, Liangmai stayed back in Makuilongdi. The middle brother, Zeme moved to the lower region and settled somewhere near the Barak River. ³ Rongmei, the youngest brother went southward and settled there. ⁴ This migration story fomented a strong attachment among Zeliangrong people in claiming their roots and articulating their relatedness.

In reproducing the origin story and the tales of migration, very rarely I came across any explanation about why there were three brothers but four tribes now. I asked some elders and leaders, ‘Why did the divergent claim of Inpui crop up only now (meaning only in the past decade or two)?’ ‘Why, in the telling of our long history, did we not hear about the Inpui brother?’ Many abstained from answering citing the limitation of their knowledge. Others speculate that the Inpui were Kabui (or at least perceived as one, until recently). However, this does not solve the puzzle of the three brothers and four tribes. Kabui is also the other name for Rongmeis, and it is unclear whether the Rongmei and Inpui were one. An Inpui friend then gave me a very different account, ‘Growing up, the stories I heard have always been about four brothers that led to four tribes’. This version, although did not find a wide recognition among other tribes. According to my Inpui friend, the ‘issue’ of Inpui is as old as Zeliangrong itself, and the three brothers’ story—subsuming the Inpui identity mostly under the Rongmei—was popularised by early leaders of the Zeliangrong unity. From my friend’s and other Inpui interlocutors’ perspective, the Zeliangrong solidarity that trite then eclipses their identity and politics, until since the 2000s. Yet, others view the politics that emerged in the 2000s as one that divides and interrupts the very idea of Zeliangrong.

In the popular imagination of the Zeliangrong people, their long-shared history—which I present below—made them chart and envision a mutual future. The common narrative often describes the various circumstances and conjunctures that bound them together, and which helped them maintain their group identity (Longkumer, 2010). These factors, which they were subjected to, and abided by, formed a case in adopting the term ‘Zeliangrong’ as their common name. The name ‘Zeliangrong’ is arguably organic and thus stands in contrast to the nomenclatures given by the British, such as Kacha Naga ⁵ used to refer to the Liangmais and the Zemes, or Kabui Naga ⁶ to refer to the Rongmeis and Inpuis. It is a three-syllable term that uses the first syllables of the three constituent tribes, Ze: Zeme, Liang: Liangmai and Rong: Rongmei. In clarifying the misnomers, the retelling of origin stories and tales of migration occupy a central place. But these retellings, as my Inpui friend’s account shows, sideline certain voices and versions. Such divergent voices and claims then become visible only at opportune moments, especially when they overlap with larger group members’ interests.

‘Look!’ a church leader from a neighbouring village announced. ‘We used to gather as one congregation under the banner of ZBC (Zeliangrong Baptist Church), but we would sing and conduct the [church] service in Manipuri (Meiteilon), and this was not appropriate’. He then explained to me how church members, over time, began longing to sing in their own languages. According to this church leader, this indicated that the Zeliangrong people were different from the start and were only temporarily brought together by Christian conviction via existing social organisation. Tellingly, many admitted that the emphasis on oneness or sameness, owing to their shared roots is now replaced by the emphasis on their differences. As such, the articulation of differences would mostly foreground language differences. This is particularly interesting, as many Naga tribes today still speak more than one language or dialect (It is also true that many other tribes in the Northeast speak the same language but are classified as different tribes). Furthermore, instead of relating their shared roots, of origin stories to their oneness, Zeliangrong people now increasingly talk about their past as different people with a common history. In many of my conversations, I was routinely told that the four tribes are different and only share similar cultures and traditions. Such phenomenon, quoting Freud, Wouters (2022, p. 14) argues is a ‘narcissism of minor differences’, and is prevalent in India’s Northeast.

Scott (2009) controversially argued that oral tradition is a conscious strategy, if not a preference, over written culture. According to Scott (2009, p. 235), ‘relatively powerless hill peoples…may well find it to their advantage to avoid written traditions and fixed texts, or even to abandon them altogether, in order to maximise their room for cultural maneuver’. Said otherwise, folklores or oral histories are not fixed in time, but reflective of the political present. Similarly, Wettstein (2012, p. 213) writes, ‘Among many politically active Nagas, migration stories form an integral part of their rhetoric for constructing a collective identity…’ While Wettstein was alluding to the larger Naga nationalist movement, the same is evident within the Zeliangrong movement and their identity formation. As it turns out, and as I show in the remainder of the essay, all these unifying stories and accounts were stressed at one historical moment because there was a felt need to do so. Yet, today, such origin stories are blurred, if not told differently and with a greater emphasis on recent histories of Zeliangrong ethnic configuration.

Zeliangrong Identity Formation and Nationalism

In this section, I reconstruct, using various historical sources, how the Zeliangrong identity came to be forged in the 1930s and later consolidated in the 1940s. This was spurred by three key instances: British taxation, a new wave of Kuki people’s migration and Christian conversion (Asoso, 1982; Kamei, 2004; Longkumer, 2010; Pamei, 2001; Samson, 2012; Thomas, 2015). Following these, the decades leading up to the formation of the Zeliangrong People’s Convention in 1980 were the most crucial in the formation of Zeliangrong identity and nationalism. Wouters (2017) observed that the 1940s and the 1950s witnessed a heightened making of tribes across the Naga Hills. In response to colonial administrative policies of tribe-wise provisioning, Naga uplands were flowering with new tribes and tribal apex bodies. For the Zeliangrong people, the period in contrast is arguably the highest point of their group solidarity. It was also during these decades that the Zeliangrong movement emerged as a parallel movement alongside the Naga nationalist movement (Thomas, 2012).

Following the British annexation of Assam in 1826, decades later, the colonial government started imposing house tax in the Naga Hills (Thomas, 2012). The concept of tax was foreign to the Zeliangrong people. ⁷ Alongside the policy of taxation, free and forced labour was also introduced. ⁸ Both these mechanisms were devised to meet the needs of building roads, bridges and other infrastructures for administrative incursions into the Naga villages (Dzüvichü, 2014). The roads and infrastructure would enable rapid military movement to effectuate control, while also facilitating trade, which the colonials deemed would further consolidate their reign and ‘pacify’ the Nagas.

Around the same time, during the 1830s and 1840s there were new waves of Kuki people’s migration from Burma to the region abutting Naga Hills, including parts of Naga Hills inhabited by the Zeliangrong people (Kamei, 2004; Thomas, 2015). This resulted in much discord and resentment among the Nagas (Kamei, 2004). The British saw the conflict as an opportunity to use the Kuki people as ‘buffer’ tribes, keeping the Nagas and their threat at bay (Mackenzie, 1884, cited in Thomas, 2015). Things took a worse turn towards the end of the 19th century, when the British decided to supply arms to the Kukis and use them to attack Naga villages, especially in the Zeliangrong areas (Kamei, 2021).

Not long after the British annexation of the region, as early as 1835, Colonial officers invited Baptist Christian missionaries to further their capitalist interests (Wijunamai, 2020). The first Baptist missionary ascended the Naga Hills in 1839, although unsuccessful in terms of conversion. Half a century after, and especially after a first major conversion in 1922, among the Zeliangrong people Baptist missionary activities started making good headway (Thomas, 2015). Compounding this were the attempts by the Hindu Maharajah of the neighbouring Manipur kingdom to bring Hinduism to the hill tribes. This invoked fears among the Zeliangrong people; the fear of losing their indigenous culture, traditions and religion.

It was in the context of the situation described above that a young charismatic Rongmei muh ⁹ (spiritual guide and healer), Jadonang stood up to the occasion and brought together the Zeliangrong people as one. Jadonang, a young leader, hardly in his twenties, travelled across the Zeliangrong villages in the late 1920s and mobilised the people to stand up against the foreign entrances and impositions collectively. The receptive feeling among the constituent tribes to come together as one, the historian Gangmumei Kamei writes, was because of the ‘mass fantasy to escape the suffering of the contemporary social, economic and political hardship’ (Kamei, 2002, p. 23); a psycho-social phenomenon, as he puts it. Before this, Kamei (2004, p. 125) elucidates, ‘There was no tribal fraternal solidarity among the Zeliangrong people as the bond was forgotten long ago and it could not be established easily’.

No sooner had Jadonang started the movement than the British authorities arrested and eventually executed him in August 1931. The movement was carried forward by his cousin, Gaidinliu whom he had trained for nearly six years, in her early teenage years (Yonuo, 1982). When Gaidinliu assumed leadership, she was only 16 years old. ¹⁰ Like Jadonang, she was charismatic and was also believed to possess some supernatural power. Early on, her parents recognised her distinctive qualities and acknowledged her as muh-pui, a female prophet. Gaidinliu, too, was arrested shortly after Jadonang’s execution, in October 1932. Nevertheless, the movement culminated into a fierce resistance as one people which later came to be called ‘the Zeliangrong Naga uprising of 1930–32’ (Mahadevan, 1974). This uprising marks the dawn of Zeliangrong identity consciousness.

A more participative alliance started with the formation of ‘Kabui Chingsang’ in 1927, and a reconfigured ‘Kabui Samiti’ in 1934 (Kamei, 2004). Zeliangrong scholars and elders recall this event as the time when all enmity, suspicions and conflicts that had hitherto existed among the Zeliangrong people rescinded. The narrative here, in their attempt to unite the constituent tribes, was to ‘reclaim’ their shared ‘glorious days of the past’ (Longkumer, 2007). It was also during this time that the Kabui Nagas and the Kacha Nagas started calling themselves ‘Zeliangrong’, a term that was formally adopted with the formation of Zeliangrong Council in 1947. The highest point of their collective ethnic assertion, although was in the 1970s.

After the emergence of the Naga National Council ¹¹ (NNC), the Zeliangrong movement took a slight detour. At first, the NNC demanded autonomy for the Nagas within the independent union of India, but later under the strong leadership of Angami Zapu Phizo, Nagas demanded that they be left alone as a complete sovereign nation (Franke, 2009; Wouters, 2018). Meanwhile, in post-colonial India, in response to the Indian state’s iron-fisted militarisation and killings, a few Naga leaders came together in Kohima, in 1957, and formed the Naga People’s Convention (NPC). NPC resorted to negotiating ‘a middle path out of the violence’ (Wouters, 2018, p. 125). Three years after its formation, NPC signed ‘The 16 Point Agreement’ with the Government of India, and Nagaland state was contentiously created on 1 December 1963.

The newly created Nagaland state is very modest in its boundary. It excluded large tracts of the Naga inhabited areas, which to date still find themselves within the political boundaries of three other Indian states, Manipur, Assam and Arunachal Pradesh, and parts of Myanmar. While initially on board, the Zeliangrong people saw that their lands would be divided across three different states. Roughly three-quarters of their population and lands were excluded from the ambit of Nagaland state (Kamei, 2004). On 14 October 1964, a year after the creation of Nagaland, a collective of different Zeliangrong organisations and leaders submitted a memorandum to the then-prime minister of India, Lal Bahadur Shastri, demanding a Zeliangrong homeland. ‘Our people have been scattered over three states because of political, historical and geographical factors’, the memorandum lamented. Therefore, the collective proposed that the Zeliangrong people be allowed to have ‘a common homeland with explicit rights’ (cited in Kamei, 2004, p. 229). In the decades that followed, this push for integration intensified, and eventually led to the formation of the Zeliangrong People’s Convention, in 1980.

Staying Apart Together

In both the colonial and postcolonial contexts, the Zeliangrong people came together to define and frame their interests and aspirations in response to their circumstances. In these instances, given the need for a common ground, and in the search for achieving a shared interest, they resorted to stressing their common origin, traditions and practices, animating their roots as one people. In this section, I describe how the Zeliangrong unity has come under strain, owing to which tribal elders and leaders now talk about staying together but as different entities.

Even as scholars, elders and public intellectuals write about the unifying past of the Zeliangrong, they also admit that the Zeliangrong history is dotted with various instances of reconstruction and contestation among its constituent units and neighbouring groups. The historian Gangmumei Kamei, a staunch advocate of Zeliangrong unity, himself repeatedly pointed out that the collective identity of Zeliangrong was fluid at certain points in time. To substantiate this, he writes about the case of Puimei (Inpui), which according to him is a sub-tribe of the Kabui, and whose demand for inclusion under Zeliangrong nomenclature has remained a ‘contentious issue’ (Kamei, 2004, p. 12).

More than ever, the Zeliangrong alliance among its constituent tribes have now increasingly come under strain. Both proponents of Zeliangrong unity as well as people who wish to dissociate from the group identity recognise that the efforts to sustain the oneness of Zeliangrong have become more intricate and arduous. While on the one hand, faint voices from within the community strive for the continuity of the people as one, there is an emerging and increasing stress on the emphasis of difference on the other hand. ‘We must note that “the Zeliangrong” do not have a language, culture or literature of its own’, a tribal council leader told me, as we sat by the fireplace on a cold morning in January 2019. He then explained,

The question of Zeliangrong being a tribe remains an impossibility. We [the leaders of the constituent tribe] had even suggested a federal structure for the Zeliangrong, but they [the hitherto exiting Zeliangrong collective apex organisations] did not agree to it, and therefore we decided to move out of the organisation.

To be sure, the Nagas have always tipped in favour of their tribal bodies when against its conglomerations. Thus, by consolidating the Zeme Naga Council, Liangmai Naga Council, Rongmei Naga Council and Inpui Union, the antecedent apex bodies of the Zeliangrong—the Zeliangrong Baudi and the Zeliangrong Union—weakened and fractured its legitimacy. While discussing the current standing of the Zeliangrong people and its older leadership, a (now retired) leader of one of the constituent tribes told me,

There are many problems and conflicts with the idea of Zeliangrong. The discussion of which will never cease. It is these people who want to retain their [leadership] positions still pressing on the idea of Zeliangrong. Else, be it in Nagaland or Manipur, the ties have been broken. Not many acknowledge Zeliangrong as one entity anymore. The Naga Hoho ¹² had already agreed to recognise the constituent tribes as separate members… In Nagaland, people are strongly against the idea of Zeliangrong, and they go by the name ‘Zeliang’. In fact, [some of the leaders] are also slowly trying to bifurcate ‘Zeliang’ without creating hostility between the Zemes and the Liangmais. And the two tribes are also showing an understanding of the need for it (sic.).

Sections of the Zeliangrong people are now making fresh attempts to advocate for a united Zeliangrong. Calling themselves ‘Luangdimai’ (a purportedly more inclusive and reminiscing term, to refer to people from Makuilongdi, instead of Zeliangrong which excludes the prefix of Inpui), some proponents of Zeliangrong unity established Luangdimai Citizens Forum in 2011. In 2018, the Forum published a manifesto-like book ‘to chart the need to stay together and the future course of action’ for the Zeliangrong people (Luangdimai Citizens Forum, 2018, p. xii). In a chapter titled, ‘Restoring the Golden Age of Makuilongdi’, Samuel Pamei thus wrote,

At present day, our [Zeliangrong] society is fractured. Zeme, Liangmai, Rongmei and Inpui, each one is trying to assert their own identity supported by religious institutions, undergrounds, social organisations, and intellectuals down to the common man. This is sad… (Luangdimai Citizens Forum 2018: 1)

In the making of the Zeliangrong ethnic identity, religion played a binding force. It was concomitantly instrumental in asserting and validating their ethnic tribal identity. During its formative stage, the Zeliangrong people saw Christianity as the colonising element to be shunned. What is more, their animist religion provided the required ground for group solidarity, belongingness and shared identity. According to Mahadevan (1974), this was also the elemental distinctiveness of the movement and uprising, as against, for instance, the Kuki Uprising of 1917–1919. Throughout the Zeliangrong nationalist movement, religion as well as cultural sovereignty was as much the fuel and force in its attempt to sustain and recast their ethnic identity. In relation to the larger Naga movement, too, the Christian character of NNC, and to an extent, the projection of Nagaland as a Christian state othered the Zeliangrong movement. Yet, as the movement ebbed post the 1990s, the reverse wave to bifurcate the community arguably stemmed from Baptist ¹³ Christian church circles, citing language differences.

While the consolidation of both Zeliangrong civic association and church association took place in 1947, talks for bifurcation within the Baptist church association started as early as the 1970s. By 1985, in the case of Manipur, where Zeliangrong’s internal politics was arguably the most intense, Zeliangrong Baptist Association (ZBA) had split into four different associations. Until then, the Manipur Baptist Convention, the apex body of Baptist churches in Manipur recognised only ZBA. The Convention gave only one representation for each community. It took about twenty-five years for this division to come to the secular domain.

On 22 December 2011, the Government of India gave a separate recognition to the constituent tribes. In the ‘List of the Scheduled Tribes in India’ was now recognised and ascribed Liangmai, Zeme, Rongmei and Inpui, instead of ‘Kacha Naga’ or ‘Kabui Naga’. This new development could, of course, be read as having their names corrected from a fallaciously ascribed colonial name. But it is also an outcome of separate ethnic assertions and aspirations. The public press statements on multiple instances, including the one I cited at the beginning of the essay, are a testament to such aspirations.

I must also make a contingent observation here. The Zeliangrong movement and its politics are lopsidedly situated in Manipur. This is because, in Manipur they constitute a significant minority. But in Manipur, too, the Rongmei has the highest population. Over the last two decades, many from the other three constituent tribes have perceived the Rongmeis as having a major stake and marked influence in decision-making. Moreover, different people told me on multiple occasions that the competition between two apex bodies of the Zeliangrong, the Zeliangrong Baudi and the Zeliangrong Union, was in reality a competition between the Rongmeis from the interior villages (in the hills) and Rongmeis from the valleys (those nearer to the capital of Manipur). All of these added to their perception of a necessary divide now. Having four-seat representation in the church councils, the Naga movement, as well as the Indian state politics, was better than having one on behalf of all they felt.

Reflections on Identity Politics in India’s Northeast

Perplexed with the question of why ethnic communities in Northeast India unite among themselves sometimes and break at other times, the anthropologist Subba (1988) conceptualised the ‘negative solidarity’ thesis. First, Subba (1988) concurs with existing non-Marxist conflict theories and maintains that conflict is inherent in any community or society. In so doing, he cites recurrent instances of conflict and war among ethnic communities in Northeast India. But he goes on to suggest that there are occasional solidarities forged among communities, amid their conflict tendencies, to further a common interest. This solidarity is different from the Durkheimian mechanical solidarity and organic solidarity as it is neither a solidarity of resemblance nor of difference. Instead, it is a solidarity that is ‘artificial, adopted and temporary’ and usually premised on perceived primordial values (Subba, 1988, p. 375). As such, ethnic solidarities and tribal identities in India’s Northeast have been variously theorised as performative, statist and instrumental (Barkataki-Ruscheweyh, 2018; Middleton, 2015; Shneiderman, 2015; Shneiderman & Turin, 2006). While these scholarships hold some water, and is also interesting to think with, the viewpoint it promotes, and the possible cost of subscribing to this uncritically, so to speak, can be grievous.

Subba’s (1988) thesis—in which he included the Zeliangrong people—is conceivably similar to, and can perhaps be presented as, a contextualised version of Evans–Pritchard’s segmentary lineage theory. Here, group alliance comes about through the process of keeping aside clan allegiance, inter-tribal feuds, conflicts and suspicions, for furthering the larger and common interests of different social groups. The upshot is a shared solidarity among groups who might have differences, or antagonism before. But once the common interest wears off, the unanimity or cooperation ceases. The solidarity splits up, and sometimes even leads back to conflict and discord again.

My critique of the negative solidarity thesis as well as other scholarship of a similar troupe in the region is its overemphasis on interest over affect. Communities in the Northeast, of course, enact their ethnic identities and seek state recognition. Yet, translating all forms of such assertions as a tactical political deployment undermines the substantive content of tribal communities, their relationship with each other, and their desire to self-actualise. Furthermore, it also denies coevalness and downplays the ability of tribes and tribal leaders to appropriate, redesign and mediate politics for purposes beyond the state (Fabian, 2014; Hebbar, 2018). In the Naga inhabited areas, and the Northeast more broadly, apart from state institutions, tribal bodies and their politics have a strong presence in the everyday lives of the communities (Chophy & Zhimo, 2018). Accordingly, these avenues have become parallel and core sites for political contestations for their own sake and functioning. Rather than seeing the Zeliangrong people as a primordial tribal affiliation, therefore, I propose to take up Brubaker’s (2004) suggestion of seeing ‘ethnicity without groups’; ‘a contextually fluctuating conceptual variable’ (Brubaker, 2004, p. 11).

Elsewhere, using Brubaker’s (2004) framework, Vandenhelsken (2009) historicised the emergence of ethnic categories in Sikkim. She shows how ethnic groupings and differentiations in Sikkim were variously conceptualised, modified and sometimes arbitrarily coded through its shift from being a sovereign monarchical state, to being a protectorate—first under the British and later under India—and eventual annexation by India (Vandenhelsken, 2009). Particularly striking in the Zeliangrong case is that the constituent tribes are also part of various other groupings within the Naga. For instance, along with two other cognate groups, Maram and Thangal, they are now retracing their common ancestry as Hamei, meaning ‘God’s people’, or sometimes translated as ‘ourselves’ (Samson, 2019). Also, along with eight other tribes the Zeliangrong people position themselves as Tenyimia (or Tenyimi) Nagas, descendants of a person called Tenyi (Achumi, 2022). With such different integrants, and taking different forms, these occurrences of coming together or grouping become an ‘event’ (Brubaker, 2004, p. 12).

Ramirez (2014) wrote about the many occurrences of ethnic conversions, including sometimes a complete conversion of an entire community in India’s Northeast. Therein, one of Ramirez’s interlocutors from the Assam–Meghalaya border candidly remarked, ‘Now we have only Karbi and Bodo. In the past, there was a Garo village but a few years ago they all converted to Karbi. They were alone in this area so they could not marry…’ (Ramirez, 2014, p. 61). Such ethnic lodging, dislodging or repositioning, even at an institutional level, does seem to occur on several occasions, owing to various and often pressing imperatives. As I have shown in the case of the Zeliangrong people, tribal affiliations and identities change, fluctuate and shift as a contextual requisite in different historical moments. Such group fusion and fission are indicative of the constantly emerging vernacular politics in India’s Northeast.