Why Demanding Separation from Meiteis on the Kuki-Paite Clash 28th Anniversary Makes No Sense

It’s baffling, really. On the 28th anniversary of the 1997–1998 Kuki-Paite clash, the Kuki community in Kangpokpi District shut everything down—schools, colleges, shops, you name it—to demand “separation” from the Meitei community. The July 3, 2025, “26th Separation Day” in Sadar Hills, organized by Committee on Tribal Unity (CoTU), is another head-scratcher. It’s unclear what happened in 1999 to justify it, yet it featured the same vigils, prayers, and calls for separation from Meiteis. 

A clash that was entirely between Kukis and Paites, with zero Meitei involvement, is being twisted to paint Meiteis as oppressors. This obsession with separation, dragged out for every grievance, is getting absurd. 

Several Facebook pages, including Voice of the Kuki, commemorated the 28th Separation Day with heartfelt tributes, posting in bold, "On this solemn occasion, Kuki communities across various regions gathered to honor the martyrs who sacrificed their lives in the fight for justice, dignity, and freedom from Meitei oppression." Similarly, another facebook page known as Kangpokpi District posted, "28th Separation Day 3 September 2025 as A Day of Separation from the Meitei radicals."

Notably, the scale of violence, human loss, and property destruction during the Kuki-Paite clashes of 1997–1998, which left 352 people dead and displaced thousands, was significantly higher than in the ongoing Meitei-Kuki conflict, which has claimed over 300 lives. Despite this, the Kuki community has not demanded separation from the Paite over the past 3 decades. 

The Kuki community has a packed calendar of “Separation Days”—May 3, July 3, September 3—and a “Black Day” on September 13, each tied to some ethnic conflict where they frame themselves as victims. The September 3, 2025, event in Kangpokpi, organized by the  CoTU and Kuki Students’ Organization (KSO), was a big affair. From 6 AM to 6 PM, places like Gamgiphai, Taphou, Motbung, Saparmeina, Leikop, Keithelmanbi, Hengbung, Leimakhong, South West, Saikul, Bungpi, and Phailengmol ground to a halt. Candlelight vigils, prayers, and speeches filled the air, with a “Wall of Remembrance” honoring past sacrifices. 

CoTU’s Lunthang Haokip spoke of those who “sacrificed their today for our tomorrow,” while KSO’s vigil at their Kangpokpi office rallied the youth. The mood was heavy—solemn chants, tearful prayers—but the loudest message was a demand for separation from Meiteis. 

Let’s get the facts straight. The 1997–1998 Kuki-Paite clash was an internal feud within the Kuki-Chin-Zo family. It kicked off when the Kuki National Front (KNF) attacked the Paite village of Saikul on June 24, 1997, killing 10–13 people. The Paites, who identify as Zomi, pushed back against being lumped under the Kuki label, especially as Kukis, displaced from earlier Naga-Kuki clashes, encroached on their lands. The 17-month conflict left 352 dead and 15,000 displaced. A peace accord in October 1998 sorted things out, recognizing “Kuki” and “Zomi” as distinct identities and banning forced taxation or land grabs. 

Meiteis weren’t even in the picture. So why are Kukis using this 28th anniversary to observe separation from them? This isn’t an isolated case. The Kukis have a history of conflicts—with Nagas, Karbis, Dimasas—and in each, they’ve followed a similar playbook: start trouble, suffer losses, claim victimhood, and push for territorial control. Take the 1992–1994 Naga-Kuki clashes: over 900 killed, 100,000 displaced. Meiteis stayed neutral, even helping displaced Kukis with food, money, and building materials to resettle near valley foothills. 

It is reported that Meitei groups backed few Kuki chiefs in Churachandpur, aiding hundreds of families. Yet, on September 13, Kukis mark Sahnit Ni to vilify Nagas, not to demand separation from them. In 2003–2004, the Kuki Revolutionary Army (KRA) attacked Karbi villages in Assam’s Karbi Anglong, killing 39 in a single day. The Karbi group, United People’s Democratic Solidarity, hit back, targeting Kuki settlements. In 2002–2003, the Hmar Kuki group, Hmar People’s Convention (Democratic), massacred 27 Dimasas in Assam’s Dima Hasao, sparking retaliatory violence that killed over 100. In both cases, Kukis pushed for a greater “Kukiland”.

Speaking of which, the 2023 Meitei-Kuki violence, sparked by Kuki terrorists attacking Meitei homes in Churachandpur on May 3, killed over 300 and displaced 70,000. Signs point to planning: many Kukis took mass leave from government jobs and left the valley beforehand, and their victimhood narrative hit global media before India could respond. This fits a pattern. 

Whether it’s KNF, KRA, or HPC-D, Kuki groups provoke, fight, then cry persecution to justify territorial demands. The 2023 clashes created “buffer zones,” effectively pushing Meiteis out of Kuki-dominated areas like Moreh, Churachandpur, and Kangpokpi, just as Nagas were expelled from Kuki strongholds in the 1990s.

This endless parade of commemorations—each framing Kukis as victims—creates a drama of grievance. The word “separation” is so embedded in Kuki identity that it’s thrown around like confetti. A husband and wife squabbling over who burned the dinner could probably invoke it. Keep this up, and Kukis might demand separation at a kid’s birthday party or a kitty party, making the whole thing laughable.

Then there’s the role of Chin-Kuki migrants from Myanmar, especially after coups in 1988 and 2021, which boosted Kuki numbers and territorial claims. The 1992–1994 clashes saw Kukis retreat to strongholds like Moreh and Kangpokpi, while Nagas consolidated in places like Ukhrul. The 2023 violence followed suit, with Meiteis driven out of Kuki areas. This isn’t random—it’s strategic, paired with a victimhood narrative to push for a separate Kuki state, often at the expense of others.

Using the Kuki-Paite clash anniversary to target Meiteis is especially galling. That conflict was about Paites asserting their Zomi identity against Kuki dominance—Meiteis were nowhere near it. Yet, Kuki leaders claim coexistence with Meiteis is impossible. This is a blatant distortion. In 2023, Meiteis retaliated after Kuki attacks, but it looks like a trap: provoke, get a reaction, then use it to fuel the separation narrative. 

We’ve seen this before in Assam, where Kuki groups attacked Karbis and Dimasas, then demanded territorial concessions under the guise of persecution. The Hmars’ push for “Kukiland” mirrors the Kuki Inpi Manipur’s post-2023 statehood demands.Every clash—whether with Nagas, Paites, Karbis, Dimasas, or Meiteis—sees both sides lose lives, homes, and futures. No one wins. Yet, Kukis consistently cast themselves as the sole victims, portraying their fighters as fierce to scare rivals while rallying their base. 

This narrative isn’t just about remembrance—it’s about power, pushing for ethnic and territorial dominance. Blaming Meiteis for a clash like 1997, where they played no role, while ignoring bigger losses in conflicts with Nagas or Paites, is illogical. It’s like demanding a divorce because your neighbor had a fight.This obsession with separation is a dead end. Exploiting past pain to widen divides only deepens Manipur’s wounds. 

Kuki leaders need to shift gears—talk, not just within their tribes but with others. The ghosts of 1997, and every clash before and after, deserve healing, not more fractures. If Kukis keep crying separation for every unrelated grievance, it will turn into a punchline. Imagine the absurdity: “Happy birthday, now let’s separate from Meiteis!” It’s time to move beyond this cycle of victimhood and division toward dialogue and coexistence!