Nagaland stands as the sixteenth state of the Indian Union—one of its oldest—but it lags shamefully behind other states in terms of infrastructure, human capital, and basic quality of life.
Nagaland stands as the sixteenth state of the Indian Union—one of its oldest. Yet, when measured by infrastructure, human capital, and basic quality of life, it lags shamefully behind states that emerged decades later.
The state government is quick to deploy a familiar armour of excuses: chronic underfunding, challenging geography, over employment, and unresolved political issues that have dogged the state since its inception. But let’s be clear: while these factors complicate progress, they are symptoms, not the disease.
The Illusion of Peace and the Reality of Stagnation
Nagaland has never known true stability. From the beginning, the struggle for absolute independence and a distinct identity shaped its history. The state itself was born out of an attempt to appease a nationalist movement—a compromise that left deep-seated dissent unresolved. Today, the endless peace talks between the Government of India and Naga leaders serve as a stark reminder of deep frustration and systemic indifference.
Because of this prolonged limbo, large-scale industrialisation is nonexistent. There are neither corporate jobs for the educated youth nor menial wages for the illiterate. Entire generations are trapped in traditional, low-productivity farming because modernisation requires tools and technology that simply do not exist here.
Progress demands infrastructure. But how can a society advance when:
• Power supplies are erratic and unpredictable.
• Uninterrupted internet—the lifeblood of the modern economy—remains a distant dream.
• Basic roads and clean water are treated as luxuries rather than fundamental rights.
This total economic paralysis has bred a dangerous culture of dependency. The populace looks entirely to the state for jobs, supplies, and contracts. In turn, a system built on nepotism and cronyism rewards only the connected, systematically locking out anyone without political lineage.
The Moral Paradox
Let us confront the most uncomfortable truth. The ultimate barrier to Nagaland’s advancement is not its borders, its history, or its budget. It is pervasive, unapologetic corruption at every single level of society.
What makes this reality truly staggering is that Nagaland proudly proclaims itself a Christian state under the banner “Nagaland for Christ.”
We must ask ourselves hard questions:
• Does the Holy Bible preach the virtues of deceit, kleptocracy and systemic theft?
• Are Christians and Christianity devoid of basic morality?
If the answer is no, then why do the loudest spokespersons for the faith double as the most morally compromised, publicly corrupt actors in our society? Corruption begins in the mind; a corrupt mind is utterly incapable of leading a virtuous public or private life. It is said that ‘hypocrisy is a homage paid by vice to virtue.’ Our leaders may remember that whenever they lie.
The Final Verdict: The Choice is Yours
Let’s strip away the political jargon. What does all of this actually mean for you, the citizen? It means that every time a politician buys a vote with a handful of cash, they aren't giving you a gift—they are buying your silence. They are buying your children’s schools, your family’s healthcare, and the very roads you walk on. When we sell our votes, we aren't just electing leaders; we are willingly signing our own death warrants.
Nagaland does not suffer from a lack of funds or a difficult terrain. It suffers from a devastating lack of conscience. We cannot proudly shout "Nagaland for Christ" on Sunday while enabling a system of theft and hypocrisy from Monday to Saturday.
A democratic government without an opposition is a dictatorship in disguise, but in Nagaland, the voters are the ones who refuse to speak up. Our leaders have become the masters, and we have allowed ourselves to become the beggars.
Unelected power structures and corrupt politicians only hold power because we hand it to them. The emergency has passed. It is time to stop waiting for a miracle from the outside. If we want a better Nagaland, we must stop being complicit in its destruction. Rise up, refuse to be bought, and demand the accountability you deserve—because if you don't fight for your future, no one else will.
Besesayo Kezo, IPS
Retd. DGP