Opinion In Manipur, a ‘popular’ government is back. But questions remain
It will preside over a state that remains physically segmented, where free movement still depends on negotiation and informal permission, and where thousands of citizens remain unable to return home safely
Yumnam Khemchand Singh of the BJP is set to take charge of Manipur. (Photo: X/@tarunchughbjp) After nearly a year of President’s Rule, Manipur is poised to have a “popular government”, with Yumnam Khemchand Singh of the BJP set to take charge. At the Centre, the decision is being framed as a necessity: The numbers align, time has run out, and the Constitution appears to demand forward movement. From a distance, the transition carries the reassuring appearance of order being restored.
Across the Kuki and Zomi areas, after months of displacement, fractured roads, and relief camps that have quietly turned into long-term addresses, the word “popular” sits uneasily. People are asking what exactly is being restored — an elected government, or the belief that politics can still offer protection.
This unease has taken public form. Student organisations in Churachandpur have marched against the formation of a government without a political settlement. Even when Kuki and Zomi groups signalled a willingness to engage with a future government, they did so conditionally, seeking written commitments, a defined timeline, and movement on a political arrangement within the life of the Assembly.
What the prolonged delay revealed was something narrower. It was not driven by conditions on the ground or by the concerns of displaced communities. The impasse lay within the ruling party itself, as BJP legislators reportedly failed for months to agree on who should lead the state. The paralysis had less to do with constitutional constraint than with the ruling party’s inability to agree on leadership. Once this internal question was settled, the path to a popular government cleared quickly, exposing the limits of the earlier justification for delay.
The Centre’s reasoning is not difficult to trace. President’s Rule tightened administrative control and centralised security decisions, even as relief, rehabilitation, and political dialogue stalled. Over time, the pressure to normalise governance outweighed the patience to confront deeper political questions.
The urgency of the move does not address the deeper problem it leaves untouched. The conflict that erupted on May 3, 2023, did not arise from the absence of institutions. It grew out of a prolonged failure of leadership. Long before the first houses were burnt, politics in Manipur had taken a coercive turn. Administrative authority drifted away from the hill districts even as decisions affecting land, identity, and belonging accumulated at the centre. By the time violence broke out, trust in the state had already thinned. That failure did not end with the resignation of a chief minister.
The popular government now being assembled inherits this unresolved terrain. It will preside over a state that remains physically segmented, where free movement still depends on negotiation and informal permission, and where thousands of citizens remain unable to return home safely. It will govern a society that has learned, through experience, to separate order from justice, and authority from legitimacy. This is why the insistence on guarantees carries such weight. For many, safety, rehabilitation, and political assurance are not demands to be addressed after governance resumes; they are the conditions under which governance acquires meaning at all.
By restoring a government first and postponing political settlement, the Centre shifts the burden of reconciliation onto state leadership with limited room to act. Negotiations with armed groups, decisions around administrative reconfiguration, and questions of territorial security remain tightly held elsewhere. The popular government may manage everyday governance, but it will operate within boundaries it did not draw.
Supporters of government formation argue that democratic life cannot remain suspended indefinitely and that elected representatives must assume responsibility. Yet Manipur’s recent history shows how little mere presence can achieve. People are not asking for an instant resolution. They are asking for direction and for clarity about what politics is willing to acknowledge. What has been missing is assurance, in the form of commitments that people can actually rely on. Written guarantees that can be cited. Timelines that can be tested. A public articulation of intent that survives beyond a news cycle.
It may take a decade for Manipur to heal. Most people already understand that. This moment, however, will be read closely. It will show whether the restoration of government marks the beginning of political repair, or another exercise in moving forward without reckoning. Manipur does not need reassurance that democracy has returned. It requires proof that democracy has learned how easily authority can lose legitimacy, and how costly that loss has already been for those forced to live with its consequences.
Hangsing is a researcher and writer based in Manipur

