Why NRC Risks Excluding Thousands of Indigenous Communities in Manipur

After reading the book NRC - Turning Hope into Despair: Process, Politics and the Marginalisation of Indigenous People in Assam by Upamanyu Hazarika and Shantanu Parashar, I am deeply worried about the growing demands for a similar National Register of Citizens (NRC) exercise in Manipur.

When the final NRC list was published on August 31, 2019, as many as 19,06,657 people were excluded. Among them were a significant number of Bengali Hindus, working-class Muslims, people of Gorkha and Nepali descent, Koch-Rajbongshis, and even some members of the Ahom community, groups that cut across both immigrant-origin and indigenous identities. This mixed exclusion pattern left almost no section fully satisfied. 

Himanta Biswa Sarma openly declared that his government was not satisfied with the outcome and wanted the list scrapped. He stated categorically, “The state government cannot accept this NRC. People who should not have been included in the list have made it, while those who should have been in have been excluded.” 

Himanta Biswa's remarks reflected the widespread feeling that the exercise had failed to deliver the expected demographic security for indigenous people while still causing collateral damage to genuine citizens across communities.

The book on Assam NRC also meticulously traces how the Assam NRC, once hailed as a beacon of hope for protecting indigenous identity against decades of demographic change, ultimately delivered widespread despair. It marginalised many genuine indigenous Assamese families who lacked proper documentation, despite their generational roots in the land. 

Are we sleepwalking into the same trap? Our community, particularly the Meitei, is perhaps the most careless when it comes to official paperwork. Thousands of indigenous people in the Imphal Valley have lived on the same plots for generations without formal land records, patta, or tenancy agreements. 

Many remain landless or hold only informal occupancy. Even today, many Meitei families forget about securing proper land documents while relying solely on Aadhaar cards that often carry name mismatches with their Voter lists or other documents like the LPG consumer names, a common problem in most rural villages that leads to failed e-KYC processes. 

If an Assam-style NRC is pushed through without safeguards, thousands of these genuine indigenous Manipuris could face exclusion, being wrongly flagged as “doubtful” or outsiders simply because we never prioritised registering our existence officially.

The parallels are striking and alarming. In Assam, the Supreme Court-monitored NRC update (2015–2019) required applicants to prove pre-March 24, 1971, residency through legacy documents and linkage to ancestors. The final list published on August 31, 2019, included about 3.11 crore out of 3.3 crore applicants but excluded roughly 19 lakh. 

A 2022 CAG audit exposed massive flaws with costs escalated from ₹288 crore to over ₹1,600 crore, software irregularities, verification lapses, and failure to achieve an “error-free” register. Indigenous voices, including groups like AASU, felt betrayed.

Many genuine citizens from rural or indigenous backgrounds were burdened by name mismatches, linkage issues (especially for women relying on Gaon Panchayat certificates), and weak paper trails. Even the BJP-led Assam government rejected the list as unacceptable, citing inclusions of alleged foreigners and exclusions of genuine people. Years later, the NRC remains unnotified, with no mass deportations or closure. 

The book highlights how this process turned the Assam Accord’s promise of demographic security into marginalisation of the very indigenous people it aimed to protect.

Manipur’s current demands for NRC before the national census echo Assam’s initial optimism but risk repeating, or worsening, the failures. Valley-based CSO groups such as the Campaign for Just and Fair Delimitation (CJFD), Civil Society Organization (Kangleipak) and various Women and Student bodies have intensified protests under slogans like “No NRC, No Census.” 

Rallies in Imphal, Moirang, and other areas have pressured the present government, leading to the postponement of census house-listing operations (now scheduled for September 1 to 30, 2026, with self-enumeration in August). 

Protesters argue that enumeration without first identifying illegal immigrants (often alleged to be from Myanmar) would legitimise demographic shifts, distort delimitation, and threaten indigenous rights amid the ethnic violence that erupted in May 2023. 

The Manipur government has faced immense pressure to implement NRC of electoral rolls before census. However, Manipur is far more fragile than Assam was during its NRC process. 

The state remains fractured by ethnic conflict, with over 300 deaths, more than 70,000 internally displaced  thousand still languishing in relief camps. Trust is shattered, normal administration is disrupted in many areas, and competing narratives on indigeneity, land encroachment, and cross-border movements run deep. 

While valley groups push strongly for NRC as a tool to “weed out infiltrators,” responses from hill communities range from conditional support to wariness that it could be biased.

Several factors make Manipur especially vulnerable to repeating Assam’s shortcomings, potentially on a more devastating scale. First, deepened ethnic polarization. Assam’s NRC exacerbated divides despite Supreme Court monitoring. In Manipur, where violence has already led to de facto segregation, linking NRC to IDP return, delimitation, or free movement could reignite tensions instead of resolving them. Any perceived bias toward valley interests risks further alienation.

Second, severe documentation and logistical challenges. Remote hill districts suffer near-absent administration and un-surveyed customary lands, but the problem extends deeply into the Valley, the heart of many NRC demands. Thousands of long-settled indigenous families lack formal land records.

Many are landless or rely on informal arrangements without patta land records, or tenancy agreements. An Assam-style NRC demands rigorous proof of pre-cut-off residency via legacy documents (such as 1951 NRC equivalents, pre-cut-off electoral rolls, land and tenancy records, citizenship or permanent residential certificates, or other government-issued proofs from the relevant period) plus linkage through birth certificates, school records, bank/LIC/post office papers, or acceptable relationship proofs. 

Voter ID and Aadhaar are not accepted as conclusive evidence of citizenship or pre-cut-off residency; they can be issued later or in ordinary contexts. Genuine valley residents who never prioritised official registration could thus be excluded, forced into lengthy Foreigners’ Tribunal-like appeals, or stigmatised as outsiders despite deep roots. 

This would mirror Assam’s collateral damage to the poor and under-documented, but hit our careless community especially hard — lakhs of indigenous Manipuris who lived generationally on the same land without formal papers could face despair, family separations, financial ruin from appeals, and loss of confidence in institutions.

This vulnerability is starkly illustrated by reports from civil society. Back in January 2019, Ekta Parishad Manipur, along with the Homeless/Landless Committee of Imphal East, Imphal West, and Bishnupur districts, highlighted the urgent plight of indigenous landless families at a press meet at the Manipur Press Club. 

The organisation’s project coordinator warned that the state government must provide land documents or proper settlement facilities at the earliest. They pointed out that numerous indigenous people who have resided in the state for 40-50 years still do not possess land patta till date. 

Citing the Government’s Socio-Economic and Caste Census (SECC), they noted that around 70 percent of the total valley population are homeless or landless, with the majority in rural areas being poor families living hand-to-mouth. The Parishad’s own survey further revealed that in the rural areas of Bishnupur, Imphal East, and Imphal West districts, more than 3,000 households do not have land patta even though they possess and cultivate the land for generations. 

Ekta Parishad has also highlighted that in specific valley Assembly Constituencies such as Thanga, Lamlai, Sekmai, Andro, Kakching, Sugnu, Hiyanglam and others, the number of landless or pattaless indigenous households exceeds 10,000. These families often fail to benefit from government schemes due to the absence of legal entitlement documents. 

This data from Ekta Parishad exposes a critical reality that even among genuine indigenous valley communities, the very groups most vocal about NRC, documentation deficits are widespread and systemic. 

A strict NRC process could disproportionately exclude or burden these thousands of poor, rural households who have deep roots but no formal patta or legacy proofs, turning the exercise into a source of despair rather than protection. 

If the situation is this dire in the valley, one can only imagine how many more landless and under-documented families reside in the hills, where customary land systems, lack of surveys, and ongoing displacement make formal records even scarcer.

Third, likely political and administrative limbo. Assam produced a list but no accepted resolution; the process stalled amid criticism from all sides. In Manipur, with fractured politics, insurgency remnants, ongoing displacement, and debates over identity and ST status, any NRC outcome would face immediate challenges. 

Without massive neutral machinery and multi-stakeholder buy-in, costs could balloon while delivering little practical closure, breeding resentment and wasting resources.

Fourth, limited closure on core issues. NRC identifies claims but does not automatically deport, settle land disputes, or heal cultural anxieties. Assam showed exclusions rarely lead to swift action, and inclusions do not erase fears. 

In Manipur, where immigration allegations intertwine with militancy, narcotics, and resource conflicts, a standalone NRC may provide data at best but fail to deliver peace or security. 

It also risks turning hope for indigenous protection into prolonged uncertainty for excluded genuine residents.

Fifth, broader risks in a fragile state. Assam had stronger institutional oversight; Manipur’s demands overlap with delimitation talks, elections, and fragile peace efforts. A rushed exercise could distort voter rolls, create new “doubtful” categories, or invite bias accusations, complicating reconciliation. 

Logistical hurdles, like gathering scattered documents amid displacement and ensuring impartial verification, are immense. Our community’s casual attitude toward documentation makes the risk acute. 

We are indigenous people who have inhabited the valley for generations, yet thousands never bothered with land settlement, revenue records, or official linkages. In a strict verification process, this carelessness could prove costly, marginalising the very “sons of the soil” the NRC is meant to safeguard, exactly as the book describes happening in Assam.

In this context, two key mechanisms often discussed alongside NRC demands in Manipur are the National Population Register (NPR) and the Manipur State Population Commission (MSPC). The NPR is a nationwide database of “usual residents” of India, maintained by the Registrar General of India under the Citizenship Act, 1955. 

Unlike the NRC, which is strictly a citizenship register with rigorous legacy + linkage verification, the NPR is a broader population register collecting demographic and biometric details of both citizens and long-term non-citizens. 

It does not involve deep citizenship scrutiny or tribunals. The upcoming Census 2027 house-listing (September 2026) is expected to update the NPR. Protesters demand deferral until NRC-like filtering occurs, fearing legitimisation of inflated numbers for delimitation or resources.

Bsides, the Manipur State Population Commission was set up after unanimous Assembly resolutions in August 2022. Constituted by the previous government, it has the mandate to study population trends, identify “illegal immigrants,” and facilitate measures for NRC or similar exercises. It acts as an advisory and preparatory body for state-specific frameworks, possibly recommending cut-off dates or assisting local verification.

In any potential NRC exercise, the NPR could serve as the initial comprehensive resident database for cross-verification, while the State Population Commission might coordinate data collection, advise on cut-offs, and support integration with electoral roll revisions. 

However, without addressing documentation gaps, these could amplify Assam’s failures: the NPR’s inclusive approach might create a bloated base, and the Commission’s success hinges on neutrality.

Given these realities, the best and most responsible option before the new Government under Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh and the CSOs spearheading the NRC demand is to sit together urgently in transparent, inclusive dialogue. 

Both parties must first jointly address and resolve the massive landless issue and name/document mismatches across Aadhaar, Voter lists, LPG connections, and other records, especially in rural areas, through a time-bound special drive to issue patta, regularise informal holdings, and correct discrepancies. 

Only after creating a minimum documentation baseline for genuine residents should any further steps toward NRC, NPR, or census proceed. Else, Manipur risks becoming a suicidal failure like Assam.

Even Union Home Minister Amit Shah, who once aggressively pushed for nationwide NRC, has in recent years shifted focus away from repeating the full Assam-style exercise, emphasising instead targeted measures like border security, deportation of detected infiltrators, and Special Intensive Revision of electoral rolls, a clear acknowledgment of the practical and political difficulties exposed by Assam’s flawed process.

Therefore, a realistic outlook demands caution. Assam’s NRC was an ambitious but imperfect response that exposed deep challenges in citizenship determination amid poor record-keeping. Manipur, with active ethnic strife, massive displacement, and deeper trust deficits, is structurally more prone to amplified failures. 

Ignoring these lessons , including the limitations of NPR and the State Population Commission, almost guarantees frustration.

Instead of rushing, priority should go to confidence-building, robust border management, targeted verification under existing laws, inclusive dialogues on indigeneity and resource sharing, and phased restoration of normalcy, IDP rehabilitation, and free movement. 

Only then can any demographic exercise be fair and accepted. Manipur need not repeat Assam’s full trajectory of hope turning into despair. But pushing these mechanisms without addressing our documentation gaps, ethnic fractures, and the book’s hard lessons risks alienating lakhs of genuine indigenous people and prolonging the cycle of protest and uncertainty.

As protests continue and census house-listing approaches in September 2026, the path forward requires nuance. Symbolic assertions alone will not protect identity; a genuinely transparent, consensus-driven approach, with safeguards for the under-documented, is essential. 

Otherwise, we may add another chapter to the Northeast’s long history of well-intentioned policies causing unintended marginalisation of the very communities they claim to defend.