When the Killers Go Unpunished, the Guns Will Not Fall Silent in Manipur

On November 13, 2026, four Tangkhul Naga civilians travelling towards Imphal were killed in an ambush along National Highway 202 in Manipur's Ukhrul district. Among the dead were a mother and her son, and two siblings. They were travelling in two separate vehicles, a Maruti Swift and a Bolero pick-up, when armed assailants opened fire near New Haven in the Shokvao area, reportedly from the direction of Yaolen Chepu, a Kuki village.

The victims were identified by the Tangkhul Naga Long as Kapangkhui RS and Haoleila RS of Shangshak Khullen village, and Tychicus Ngalung and Tanmila Keishing of Tashar village. The Tangkhul Naga Long has blamed Kuki militants for the ambush, although the identity and criminal responsibility of the attackers must be established through investigation.

Four lives were extinguished on a public highway. A mother and her son could not complete their journey. Two siblings travelling together would never reach their destination. Their families were left with a tragedy that has become painfully familiar in Manipur.

The killings came barely a day after another round of shootings involving civilians from the Kuki and Naga communities.

On November 12, Kimneineng Chongloi, a Kuki woman, was killed in a firing incident near Taphou Kuki village in Senapati district, while two others were injured. On the same day, Newton Mahung, a Naga farmer, sustained bullet injuries when armed men reportedly opened fire towards farmers harvesting paddy near Sinakeithel village in Ukhrul district.

They were not on a battlefield. They were ordinary people trying to earn their livelihoods.

Within two days, five civilians had lost their lives and several others had been injured in separate incidents. Their deaths and injuries are further reminders that Manipur has not recovered from the violence that began in May 2023.

More than three and a half years have passed, yet the sound of gunfire continues to interrupt ordinary life. What began primarily as an ethnic confrontation between Meiteis and Kukis has spread into fresh hostilities involving Kuki and Naga communities, creating new victims, displaced families and unresolved grievances.

Manipur has witnessed changes in political leadership, a period of central administration, repeated security operations and numerous appeals for peace. Yet the question that matters most to ordinary citizens remains unanswered.

Why do people continue to die?

More importantly, why does each new killing seem to arrive before the public has received satisfactory answers about the previous one?

One explanation deserving serious examination is the apparent gap between security operations and visible criminal accountability. Arrests are announced, weapons are recovered and assurances are offered. But families waiting for justice need to know whether investigations have progressed, whether chargesheets have been filed and whether those responsible are being brought before the courts.

Peace cannot be sustained by security arrangements alone. It must also rest upon public confidence that taking a human life will carry consequences under the law.

A Highway Ambush That Should Alarm the Nation

The November 13 killings deserve attention beyond Manipur because the victims were travelling on a national highway, a public route that should remain accessible and safe irrespective of ethnicity or political circumstances.

National highways represent the movement of people, goods and opportunities. For hill communities, these roads are also essential connections to hospitals, educational institutions, markets and administrative centres.

When armed men can ambush civilian vehicles on such a road, the consequences extend far beyond the families directly affected. Every traveller begins to wonder whether a journey might become a fatal mistake.

The Imphal–Ukhrul route has witnessed security concerns in the past. The latest attack raises urgent questions about preventive intelligence, vulnerable stretches of the highway and the adequacy of security arrangements.

Reports indicate that security escorts have been provided along certain sections of the route. But an escort system cannot be treated as a complete solution if civilians remain exposed to attacks beyond the protected stretches.

The Tangkhul Naga Long has alleged that the November 13 ambush took place close to a central security deployment. It has demanded that the investigation be handed over to the National Investigation Agency and has issued a three-day ultimatum to the Central and State Governments over security in Naga areas.

The organisation has also stated that the victims' families will not claim the bodies until their demands are addressed.

These developments underline the growing loss of confidence among affected communities. But they also reinforce the urgency of an investigation capable of establishing the facts independently.

The authorities must determine how the assailants approached the highway, where they positioned themselves, what weapons were used and whether there had been prior information about possible threats.

The investigation must also establish whether the attack was planned, whether more than one armed organisation was involved and whether the perpetrators received logistical support.

These are questions for investigators to establish through evidence, not for communities to decide through accusations.

The families of Kapangkhui RS, Haoleila RS, Tychicus Ngalung and Tanmila Keishing deserve more than condemnation. They deserve a credible investigation that identifies the perpetrators and brings them before the law.

The same right belongs to the family of Kimneineng Chongloi and every other civilian killed during this conflict.

A murder does not become less serious because the victim belongs to another community. Nor does the identity of an alleged perpetrator justify collective blame against the community from which that person comes. This distinction must remain central to Manipur's search for justice.

Six Liangmai Men and a Wound That Has Not Healed

The murder of six Liangmai Naga men earlier this year remains one of the most disturbing episodes of Manipur's widening conflict.

The men were reportedly abducted from the Leilon Vaiphei area on May 13, 2026, and their bodies were recovered on June 10 after weeks of uncertainty. Their deaths aggravated the already deteriorating relationship between Kuki and Naga communities and contributed to fresh tensions.

Naga organisations have alleged the involvement of armed Kuki militants in the killings. Such allegations require thorough criminal investigation and judicial determination.

There was public outrage, protest and a demand for justice. In September, reports emerged that a serving police personnel had been suspended following allegations concerning his involvement in the case. A departmental inquiry was reportedly initiated.

But departmental suspension is not a criminal conviction. Nor is the identification of a suspect the same as establishing guilt before a court.

The families of the six men deserve to know what progress has been made in the investigation, whether all suspected perpetrators have been identified and what legal proceedings have followed.

Their loss must not become another unresolved chapter in Manipur's history of violence.

The issue is not whether a suspect belongs to the Kuki, Naga or Meitei community. The issue is whether the criminal justice system can establish individual responsibility and ensure punishment wherever guilt is proved.

When victims see investigations producing little visible progress, mistrust can deepen. When armed perpetrators believe that accountability is unlikely, the deterrent effect of the law is weakened.

The latest killings of four Tangkhul Naga civilians have brought renewed urgency to these concerns. Before the families of the six Liangmai men could complete the last rites of their loved ones, four more Naga civilians had been killed.

What does it tell us about the condition of law and order when one set of families is preparing to receive the bodies of victims killed months earlier while another set of families is mourning fresh deaths?

The passage of time must not be allowed to weaken the pursuit of justice. Nor should each new tragedy push an earlier murder out of public attention.

Nongshum and the Questions Surrounding Sinai Camp

The October 19 attack at Khongbal Sunurok near Nongshum in Imphal East district brought the same painful questions about civilian security and criminal accountability back into public discussion.

Four Meitei civilians ultimately lost their lives following the attack. Arubam Ronil and Lairenlakpam Inaobi were killed at the scene when armed assailants attacked civilians collecting firewood. Kshetrimayum Sushil, who was injured in the assault, died after being taken for treatment on the same day.

Sorokhaibam Ibomcha Singh, who was also injured during the incident, succumbed on October 31 while undergoing treatment at the Regional Institute of Medical Sciences (RIMS), Imphal, taking the total death toll to four. Reports indicated that he had suffered serious internal injuries while attempting to escape the attack. Others were also injured.

They had gone to the hills for an ordinary livelihood activity. Instead, their families received news of a tragedy that should never have occurred.

The death of Ibomcha after days of suffering made the tragedy even more painful. What began as a deadly attack that claimed three lives on October 19 eventually became a case involving four deaths.

For the bereaved families, the distinction between dying immediately and succumbing to injuries days later cannot diminish the gravity of the tragedy.

Police subsequently reported the apprehension of three suspects in connection with the killings. Officials stated that two of them had admitted participation in the assault, although any such statement must be tested through lawful investigation and judicial proceedings.

The killings were followed by a major security operation at Sinai Camp, a designated Suspension of Operations camp associated with the Kuki National Army and Kuki Liberation Army.

During the October 23 operation, security forces arrested 17 individuals accused of impersonating registered cadres. Manipur Police reported the seizure of 24 firearms, ammunition, explosives and communication equipment.

The operation raised serious questions about the monitoring of designated camps, the verification of registered cadres and compliance with the applicable ground rules.

On November 6, reports stated that 15 of those arrested had been remanded to judicial custody, while two were formally arrested in connection with another case.

These developments show that law-enforcement action has taken place. But arrests connected with camp irregularities must not be confused with criminal responsibility for the Nongshum murders. Investigators had not publicly established a direct link between the 17 individuals arrested during the camp operation and the October 19 attack.

The public deserves clarity about both investigations.

Who planned the Nongshum attack? Who carried it out? What evidence links the arrested murder suspects to the crime? Were others involved? Has the prosecution secured sufficient evidence to bring those responsible to trial?

For the families of the deceased, these are not political questions. They are questions of justice. The Joint Action Committee formed following the Nongshum killings has demanded accountability, including action against those responsible and examination of the Sinai Camp arrangements.

Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh visited the bereaved families and assured them of government support. Such visits and assurances are important. But compassion expressed at a victim's home must be followed by sustained institutional action. A family's grief cannot be resolved through condolences alone.

Whenever a serious killing takes place in Manipur, public anger is often followed by an administrative response. Security operations intensify, suspects are detained, officials appeal for restraint and assurances are given that the perpetrators will be brought to justice.

These measures may be necessary to prevent immediate escalation. They should not, however, be mistaken for the completion of the criminal justice process.

If arrests are made merely to reassure an angry public, without investigations capable of sustaining prosecution, the underlying problem remains. Equally, where arrests are supported by evidence, investigations must proceed independently and courts must determine guilt without political interference.

The public should not have to rely on rumours to discover whether suspects remain in custody, have been released on bail or are facing trial. The authorities can provide periodic, legally appropriate updates without compromising investigations or prejudicing proceedings.

The absence of clear information creates conditions in which suspicion and competing narratives flourish. For grieving families, an announcement of arrest is the beginning of a process, not its conclusion.

Why Violence Keeps Returning

The persistence of violence in Manipur cannot be attributed to any single factor. Historical grievances, ethnic mistrust, territorial disputes, displacement, the circulation of illegal weapons and the activities of armed organisations have all contributed to insecurity. Yet the effectiveness of criminal accountability is central to any serious effort to prevent further killings.

Where grave offences remain unresolved, victims may lose confidence in state institutions. Communities may begin to believe that they must rely upon their own organisations for protection or justice. Armed groups can exploit this distrust. This is how insecurity becomes self-perpetuating.

A killing produces outrage. Outrage produces demands. Authorities promise action. But if the investigation fails to establish responsibility, or if the public never learns its outcome, the grievance remains unresolved. Another incident then occurs, reopening old wounds.

This cycle is particularly dangerous in Manipur because violence that originally divided two major communities has increasingly affected others.

The November 12 and 13 incidents demonstrate how quickly civilians can become trapped in a widening atmosphere of hostility. A Kuki woman loses her life in a firing incident near her village. A Naga farmer is injured while harvesting paddy. Four Tangkhul Naga civilians travelling on a highway are ambushed and killed.

These incidents require separate investigations, and responsibility must be established individually. They cannot be treated as proof that entire communities are collectively responsible for the actions of armed individuals.

Yet their combined effect is devastating. Villagers become fearful of neighbouring settlements. Farmers hesitate to enter their fields. Travellers begin to regard roads as dangerous territory.

If this pattern continues, economic activity, social relations and the possibility of reconciliation will suffer further.

The protection of civilian life requires breaking the cycle through evidence-based investigations, effective prosecutions and equal application of the law.

No individual accused of murder should be shielded by political influence, organisational affiliation, ethnic identity or an armed group's participation in a peace arrangement.

At the same time, no accused person should be punished without a fair trial. Justice loses its legitimacy when punishment is substituted for proof.

Peace Agreements Cannot Replace Criminal Law

The controversy surrounding Sinai Camp has also revived questions about the Suspension of Operations framework.

Such arrangements are intended to create conditions for reducing armed confrontation and advancing political dialogue. They cannot replace criminal law or provide immunity for acts of violence.

Manipur Home Minister Govindas Konthoujam has stated that the SoO agreement expired on September 4, 2026, and had not been renewed. The government's position on its status makes effective monitoring and the application of criminal law particularly important.

If a designated camp is found sheltering unregistered armed individuals, the circumstances require investigation and accountability. If weapons are unlawfully possessed or camp rules are violated, the relevant legal provisions must be applied.

But the responsibility to prevent violence extends beyond any single camp or organisation. Every armed group, regardless of community affiliation, must be subject to the same legal standards.

The government must be able to distinguish between legitimate political negotiations and criminal conduct. Participation in dialogue cannot become a reason to overlook violence against civilians.

Nor should the existence of a peace arrangement prevent the authorities from investigating credible allegations against individual members of armed organisations.

The presence of armed groups in a political process must never create two different standards of justice, one for ordinary citizens and another for those carrying weapons.

That would defeat the very purpose of seeking peace.

The government also has to recognise that communities will not regain confidence merely because representatives of armed organisations attend meetings or agree to temporary arrangements.

People will judge the effectiveness of such arrangements by what happens in their villages, on their roads and in their agricultural fields.

When a farmer cannot safely harvest paddy, when a firewood collector is killed and when passengers are ambushed on a public highway, the gap between political assurances and lived reality becomes impossible to ignore.

What Is the Government Waiting For?

Yumnam Khemchand's government inherited a complex and deeply fractured situation. Restoring trust between communities will require time, patience and sustained cooperation with the Union Government. But preventing armed attacks on civilians is an immediate responsibility. His short tenure have seen killing of around 90 civilians, starting with the Tronglaobi incident.

The government should prioritise coordinated intelligence, protection of vulnerable settlements and agricultural areas, effective investigation of murders and transparent review of unresolved cases.

The November 13 attack along the Imphal–Ukhrul highway also demands an examination of security arrangements along vulnerable stretches of the route.

If civilians travelling between two towns can be ambushed despite the deployment of security personnel in the region, the authorities must examine whether existing measures are adequate and what additional preventive arrangements are required.

Protection cannot be limited to responding after people have been killed. The purpose of security deployment is to prevent such attacks wherever reasonably possible.

The families of the six Liangmai Naga men, the four Nongshum victims, the four Tangkhul civilians killed on November 13 and those who have died in other incidents should not be left to pursue accountability through repeated protests.

An independent review of major unresolved killings since the beginning of the conflict could help establish the status of investigations, identify procedural delays and determine where additional investigative support is necessary. Such a review must include victims from every affected community.

The objective should not be to produce another political controversy but to restore confidence that the law remains capable of protecting citizens and responding to grave offences.

The Union Government, too, has a responsibility in this process, particularly because of its involvement in security arrangements and political engagement with armed organisations.

It must ensure that security cooperation, dialogue and criminal accountability reinforce rather than undermine one another.
The people of Manipur should not have to choose between the promise of peace and the expectation of justice. A durable peace requires both.

When Even the Dead Are Made to Wait for Justice

Perhaps the most painful reflection of Manipur's continuing crisis is that families have been unable to perform the last rites of their loved ones while waiting for justice.

The mortal remains of six Naga men, recovered on June 10, have remained at the JNIMS mortuary for more than five months. Their families and community organisations refused to receive the bodies while demanding accountability for the killings.

Following discussions involving the Central and State Governments and Naga representatives, arrangements have now been announced to receive the remains and perform the final rites on November 16 at Naga Martyrs' Park, Konsakhul.

The families of the four civilians killed in the Nongshum attack have also withheld acceptance of the bodies while demanding action against those responsible. Their protest reflects a painful loss of confidence in the assurances that normally follow such tragedies.

Now, the November 13 killings have brought another wave of mourning to Tangkhul Naga families. The Tangkhul Naga Long has stated that the families of the four victims will not claim their bodies until the demands made in the aftermath of the ambush are addressed.
There is something profoundly disturbing about a society in which even death cannot bring closure to a grieving family.

A mother cannot complete her farewell to a son. Children cannot perform the final rites of a father. Families wait, not because they wish to prolong their suffering, but because they fear that accepting the bodies without meaningful progress towards justice may allow the killings to fade from public attention.

The decision to perform the last rites must never be mistaken for the conclusion of a criminal investigation. Burial brings dignity to the dead. Justice requires identifying and prosecuting those responsible.

If Manipur wishes to restore public trust, its institutions must ensure that no grieving family feels compelled to keep the remains of a loved one in a mortuary simply to make its demand for justice heard.

And the tragedy is deepened when families preparing to bury victims of an earlier killing are confronted with news of another deadly attack.

How many funerals must Manipur witness before the protection of civilian life becomes a reality rather than a promise?

The Guns Must Answer to the Law

There is something profoundly troubling about a society in which each new killing is discussed alongside the memory of earlier deaths, yet the prospect of another tragedy continues to feel real.

The four Tangkhul Naga civilians killed on November 13 have joined the long list of victims whose families now look towards the government and the criminal justice system for answers.

The families of the six Naga men are preparing to perform the last rites of their loved ones after months of uncertainty. The Nongshum families continue to demand accountability for four deaths. A Kuki family is mourning the killing of Kimneineng Chongloi, while a Naga farmer is recovering from injuries sustained while harvesting paddy.

Their communities and circumstances may differ, but their suffering reveals a common insecurity. For ordinary people, peace means being able to work, travel, cultivate land and return home without fear. It means trusting that those who commit murder will be investigated, prosecuted and punished if convicted.

It means knowing that the State will not abandon a family after public demonstrations have ended and media attention has moved elsewhere. People have heard enough assurances that peace will return. What they need now is visible progress in preventing violence and delivering justice.

The responsibility for murder rests with those who commit, plan or facilitate it, and their guilt must be established through the law. But the responsibility to investigate these crimes, protect innocent citizens and bring credible cases before the courts rests with the institutions entrusted with maintaining public security. The law must be stronger than the gun, and its protection must extend equally to every community.

No ethnic identity should determine whether a murder is investigated. No political connection should determine whether a suspect is prosecuted. No armed organisation should be permitted to place itself beyond the reach of criminal law.

The guns may not fall silent merely because arrests are announced or political leaders appeal for calm. They are more likely to fall silent when armed perpetrators can no longer expect to escape the consequences of their crimes.

Until then, every unresolved killing will remain not only a family's tragedy but also a test of Manipur's promise of justice. And with every fresh death, the question will return: how many more innocent lives must be lost before the law becomes stronger than the gun?