If the Naga struggle turns into an elite project but disconnected from rural roots, it may survive politically but it will not survive as a people.
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A reckoning the Naga people can no longer postpone
History has a habit of being cruel to movements that believe they are immune. There was a time when the Palestinian struggle, led by the Palestinian Liberation Organisation under Yasser Arafat, carried real moral weight. It was not just about land or negotiations. It spoke to the conscience of the world. People believed in it because those leading it seemed willing to pay the price themselves.
That belief did not disappear because the enemy was too strong. It disappeared because something inside the movement began to rot. Leaders stayed too long. Accountability weakened. Privilege slowly replaced sacrifice. The struggle did not collapse in one day. It thinned out over years, until ordinary people no longer trusted those who claimed to speak for them.
This story is not unique.
South Africa’s liberation movement, once admired across the world, won political power but lost much of its moral authority soon after. Corruption became normal. Entitlement replaced responsibility. In Zimbabwe, a movement born from genuine suffering turned into a system that crushed its own people.
These movements did not fail because their causes were wrong. They failed because they stopped holding themselves to the standards they demanded from others. This is the part many people prefer to avoid.
Liberation movements rarely die because of enemies alone. They die when truth becomes inconvenient, when silence is praised as unity, and when loyalty matters more than integrity. By the time collapse becomes visible, the damage has already been done.
The Real Cause Beneath the Surface
Corruption is not the real disease. It is the symptom. The real disease begins when principles become flexible. When leaders start explaining away what they once would have condemned. When the question quietly changes from “Is this right?” to “Can we manage this?”
Once positions start giving moral cover, instead of moral character justifying positions, everything shifts. Criticism is treated as betrayal. Institutions exist mainly to protect themselves. Faith remains present, but it no longer disturbs anyone in power.
Religion continues. Prophecy disappears.
The World We are Being Pulled Into
We also need to be honest about the world shaping us. Today’s global order is not only political. It is also theological. One powerful current within it is Christian Zionism — a belief system that mixes religion with power, military strength, and the idea that domination can be divinely justified.
This way of thinking teaches people to admire strength simply because it wins. It treats success as proof of righteousness. It turns land into entitlement and suffering into destiny. Even when we do not consciously accept this thinking, it seeps in. For the Naga people, this is dangerous.
Our history was never about conquest. Our survival came from restraint, from knowing limits, from holding land as relationship rather than property. When our nationalism starts admiring power without asking how it was gained, or blessing success without questioning its cost, we are already moving away from ourselves. This is how a people begin to destroy their own moral foundations without realising it.
The Naga Situation Today
The Naga struggle is not finished. But it is strained. We talk about sovereignty easily, but practise convenience daily. We speak of faith, but hesitate to speak of justice. We demand unity, but grow uncomfortable when difficult questions are raised. Our institutions function, but few people feel morally answerable to them anymore.
This is not a language problem. It is an authority problem. Young Nagas see this clearly. They are not indifferent. They are observant. They notice when courage gives way to calculation. When sacrifice is praised but comfort is pursued. When ideals are spoken loudly but applied selectively.
Their withdrawal is not rebellion. It is judgement. When young people stop believing that integrity matters, no political claim — however just — can carry a people forward for long.
The Weakest Link We Cannot Afford to Lose
There is a truth we avoid because it is uncomfortable: a people are only as strong as their weakest link. For Nagas, that link is rural indigenous life. Not because villages are weak, but because they carry the heaviest responsibility with the least support. Language, land, history, and identity still live there — yet neglect, migration, and quiet abandonment grow year by year.
Cultural integrity is not about festivals or slogans. It is about how life is lived. It is about being more before having more. About knowing who you are before chasing what you want.
This way of life still survives in many villages — but it is fragile.
Rural children and youth are the last generation who can inherit identity naturally rather than artificially. Once language stops being spoken at home, once land stops carrying meaning, once belonging becomes optional, continuity breaks. And when it breaks, it does not heal easily.
Many of us speaking today are beneficiaries of sacrifices we did not personally make. That is not wrong. But it becomes dangerous if we consume what we inherited without ensuring it reaches the next generation.
If the Naga struggle turns into an elite project — discussed in meetings, written in statements, defended online — but disconnected from rural roots, it may survive politically. But it will not survive as a people.
Endurance does not come from speed or visibility. It comes from depth. And depth is formed where children still know who they are.
A Moment That Cannot Be Delayed
This is not a time for comfort. History shows that movements survive only when they renew themselves morally — when power is questioned, faith speaks truth, and leadership remains answerable.
Political survival without moral renewal is not victory. It is postponement. History will not ask how long we struggled. It will ask who we became while struggling — and whether our children still recognised themselves in us.
That question now stands before the Naga people.
James Pochury