The meeting between SC Jamir and Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) chief Mohan Bhagwat has brought an old political question into a new institutional setting.
The recent meeting between former Nagaland Chief Minister Dr. S. C. Jamir and Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) chief Mohan Bhagwat has brought an old political question into a new institutional setting: where does authority reside, and what happens when political influence operates beyond the boundaries of formal constitutional power?
Jamir’s appeal to Bhagwat in New Delhi to use his influence with the BJP-led government for an early settlement of the Naga political issue is more than a meeting between two prominent personalities. It raises fundamental questions about authority, representation, national identity, constitutionalism and the moral foundations of peace.
The significance of the encounter lies in the distinction between influence and authority. The RSS is not the Government of India, and its chief does not possess a constitutional mandate to negotiate or conclude a settlement with Naga political groups. Formal responsibility rests with the Government of India and the recognised negotiating parties. Yet politics rarely operates exclusively through formal institutions. Influence travels through political relationships, ideological networks, personal contacts and institutional proximity.
Jamir’s approach appears to recognise this political reality. If the RSS possesses considerable influence within the national political establishment, his appeal is that such influence should be used constructively to encourage the Centre to bring the prolonged peace process toward a settlement.
But the distinction must remain clear: influence can persuade; authority can decide. Influence can open a door; legitimate institutions must ultimately walk through it. Informal influence becomes constructive only when it strengthens, rather than bypasses, the formal political process.
This is particularly important because the Naga political issue is not merely an administrative dispute. At its heart are questions of collective identity and political existence: Who are the Nagas? What constitutes their political community? And how can their distinctive historical consciousness be situated within the constitutional framework of India?
The issue therefore possesses a political and philosophical dimension. National unity need not require cultural uniformity, just as the affirmation of Naga identity need not necessarily mean rejection of India’s constitutional order. The more mature question is whether Naga identity can be protected within a genuinely plural Indian polity.
A strong political union is not one that makes every community identical, but one capable of preserving unity without destroying particularity. India’s constitutional imagination must therefore be sufficiently capacious to accommodate legitimate historical, cultural and political differences.
The Naga issue also contains an epistemological dimension. It has been interpreted through competing narratives national sovereignty and territorial integrity on one side, and Naga historical consciousness, political aspirations and collective identity on the other. Reconciliation requires epistemic humility: the recognition that contested histories cannot be resolved simply by imposing one narrative upon another. Genuine dialogue begins with the willingness to listen.
After decades of negotiations, agreements, frameworks and political engagements, a comprehensive settlement remains elusive. This prolonged uncertainty has created more than political fatigue; it has produced an erosion of hope. Generations have grown up hearing promises of peace without seeing its fulfilment.
It is therefore understandable that senior political figures may seek additional channels through which the Centre can be encouraged to act. The Jamir–Bhagwat meeting can be understood as one such attempt. But pragmatism must not become an excuse for abandoning constitutional transparency or inclusive representation.
The same caution applies to representation. Jamir’s historical contribution to Nagaland gives his voice significance, but historical significance should not be confused with comprehensive representation. The Naga political community is diverse, encompassing tribes, political organisations, churches, civil society groups, generations and competing intellectual traditions. No single individual or institution can speak for the entirety of that experience.
Likewise, the RSS, the BJP and the Government of India occupy related positions within India’s political landscape, but they are not identical institutions. Preserving these distinctions is essential to democratic accountability.
At the same time, if established mechanisms have struggled for decades to deliver peace, legitimate avenues for creating political movement should not be dismissed. Former statesmen can offer historical wisdom; churches and civil society can foster reconciliation; national organisations can challenge misconceptions; and political leaders can encourage courage at the negotiating table. Such efforts, however, should strengthen not substitute for the recognised peace process.
The Naga issue is fundamentally dialectical, containing tensions between sovereignty and identity, national unity and regional particularity, constitutional authority and historical consciousness, and central power and local dignity. A mature political settlement must seek not the domination of one side by another but a framework in which these competing concerns can coexist.
For Nagaland, there is also an unavoidable theological dimension. Christianity has profoundly shaped Naga society, and peace cannot be reduced merely to the absence of armed conflict or the signing of an agreement. The biblical concept of shalom points toward justice, reconciliation, restored relationships and human flourishing.
Thus, peace without justice is fragile; reconciliation without truth is superficial; unity without dignity becomes coercion. The Church must therefore resist partisan captivity while continuing to speak truth to power and calling all parties toward reconciliation and responsible stewardship.
The Jamir–Bhagwat encounter deserves neither exaggerated celebration nor premature dismissal. It is better understood as a revealing moment in the continuing evolution of Naga political discourse. It demonstrates both the persistence of the desire for peace and the search for alternative corridors of influence when formal negotiations remain prolonged.
The deeper question is whether political influence can be translated into legitimate political action. That translation cannot be accomplished through informal power alone. It must ultimately return to institutions and stakeholders possessing the authority and responsibility to negotiate and implement a settlement.
The Naga political question has survived governments, negotiators, agreements and generations. Its endurance demonstrates that conflicts rooted in identity cannot be solved through administrative patience alone. They require a politics capable of listening to historical memory without becoming imprisoned by it, and defending national unity without demanding cultural erasure.
India’s challenge is therefore not simply to persuade the Nagas that they belong to India. It is to demonstrate through constitutional practice and political generosity that belonging to India does not require the surrender of legitimate identity. The corresponding challenge for Naga leadership is to articulate a future in which identity, democratic participation, constitutional responsibility and peace can coexist.
The meeting between Jamir and Bhagwat leaves us with a fundamental distinction: influence may bring an issue into the corridors of power, but influence alone cannot create legitimacy. Authority may produce an agreement, but authority alone cannot create trust. A document may conclude negotiations, but only justice, recognition and reconciliation can give peace a durable foundation.
After decades of uncertainty, the question is no longer simply who holds the levers of influence in Delhi. The deeper question is whether India’s political imagination is sufficiently large to accommodate the dignity of a distinct people within the unity of the Republic.
That is where influence must finally yield to authority, authority to legitimacy, and legitimacy to justice. Only then can the long search for Naga peace move beyond the corridors of power toward a settlement that people can trust, communities can own and future generations can inherit.
Vikiho Kiba