How PM Modi's Visit Exposed the Cracks in the Kuki-Zo Alliance

When Prime Minister Narendra Modi visited Churachandpur on September 13, 2025—his first trip to Manipur since the violence erupted in May 2023—the ten Kuki-Zo MLAs thrust a joint memorandum into his hands. Yet, as Modi braved torrential rains to travel the roads and address a public gathering, social media erupted not in unity, but in unraveling discord. Tweets and Facebook posts spilled the secrets of those 28 grueling months: pressure from militants, clashing ambitions, and flaring sub-tribal egos. The alliance didn't just crack; it collapsed, exposing how these leaders had been playing a high-stakes game in confined quarters, their solidarity coerced and conditional.

Why the boil-over? Protest fatigue after 28 months of unrest. Key concessions had already been secured: the Suspension of Operations (SoO) agreement with militant groups extended (gift one), highways "freed" by SoO enforcers (gift two), and rehabilitation for Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) confirmed (gift three). What remained? A return to a popular government—thawing the assembly and appointing new ministers. The Kuki National Organisation (KNO) and United People's Front (UPF) would quash any blocks, with SoO groups, once rebels, now acting as Centre-aligned agents.

Nemcha Kipgen and Ngursanglur Sanate? They were the favored duo for cabinet berths—a Thadou-Hmar pair defying "fanatic" wishes. Threats from non-SoO factions? They fumed under Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) oversight. Churachandpur burned over perceived sellouts: leaders signing onto SoO extensions as Delhi puppets, while Civil Society Organizations (CSOs) like the Committee on Tribal Unity (CoTU) and Kuki-Zo Council cozied up to the capital.

In the ashes of that visit—literal flames gutting homes in Churachandpur—the spotlight falls hardest on two figures: Nemcha Kipgen and Ngursanglur Sanate. They're the Centre's anointed ones, the two MLAs whispered in Delhi think tanks as cabinet hopefuls in the impending "popular government." While the other eight vent frustration online or fade into silence, Kipgen and Sanate embody the hyphen's winners and losers. Kipgen, the Thadou powerhouse, drips honeyed alignment; Sanate, the Hmar defender, guards his tribe's identity with quiet steel. Their posts and pasts reveal not just personal ascents, but the rot within: a union where identity trumps solidarity, and Delhi's concessions come at the cost of kin-on-kin betrayal. As Manipur teeters toward an assembly reboot and the 2026 polls, their stories highlight a bitter truth—the Kuki-Zo fight isn't just against the Meiteis; it's against itself.

Imagine a family fractured by years of strife, forced into a hasty reunion under one roof not out of love, but compulsion. That's the Kuki-Zo hyphenated union in Manipur—a patchwork of tribes like the Kuki, Paite, Thadou, Hmar, Vaiphei, and Zou, bound together since May 2023. For 28 grueling months, they've shared meals in Delhi's safe houses, drafting pleas under the watchful eyes of the MHA, all while armed groups like the KNO and UPF pulled strings from the shadows. At the forefront stood ten MLAs, elected voices vouching for a separate administration—a Union Territory (UT) with its own legislature—to escape what they called Manipur's "majoritarian stranglehold." It was a chorus of desperation, a fragile front against the war on drugs, eviction of encroachments in reserved forests, curbs on poppy plantations, and detection of illegal immigrations in the state.

The term "separate administration" is a mouthful for most, yet it rolls off the tongues of elite CSOs and leaders as they sip organic juices in five-star restaurants. If they truly cared about the marginalized people in IDP camps, they’d prioritize timely rations, medicines, daily allowances, and compensation for lost properties. Have they even raised these issues once in the past 28 months? In those Delhi rooms, they'd shared scripts—memos "copy-pasted," signatures remote to dodge militant ire. But coercion bred resentment: Thadous flexing at Kangpokpi's Hun festival (seven-day sowing rites turned aid brawls), Hmars like Sanate decrying the lumping of identities.

Let's unpack the hyphen first, simply put. "Kuki-Zo" is shorthand for a diverse clan: "Kuki," a colonial blanket term from British days lumping hill tribes for administrative ease, covers core Kukis and allies like Thadous and Hmars. "Zo" honors the Zomi (Paite, Vaiphei), a self-chosen identity rejecting that old label, rooted in shared Chin-Kuki-Mizo languages and Myanmar migrations. The dash? Forged in 2023's inferno. It glued Thadous (who bristle at subsumption), Paite elders nursing 1997-98 grudges (350 dead), Hmars chasing Sinlung lore, and Zou-Vaiphei fringes. Protests unified them—blockades on NH-02, vigils in relief camps—but beneath? Fault lines from history's ledger: 1992-98 Naga-Kuki wars claiming 1,000 lives over land. Yet, improbably, the May 3, 2023, rally saw old foes clasp hands in a do-or-die bid for separate administration. That resilience? Modi's visit tested it—and it buckled.

Nemcha Kipgen's ascent is the stuff of Thadou pride, a narrative of grit in Manipur's male-dominated politics. Born in Haipi Village, this diploma-holding social worker turned politician has no criminal record. Elected from Kangpokpi—a Thadou stronghold—she became Manipur's lone woman minister under N. Biren Singh government in 2017, helming Social Welfare and Cooperation. Her tenure breathed life into stagnant departments: welfare schemes for hill widows, cooperative drives against poppy economies.

Kipgen rebounded with a 2022 re-election, a Thadou mandate. Amid 2023's blaze, she joined the ten-MLA chorus, signing memos for separate administration. But her style? Pragmatic, Delhi-aligned. In May 2025, as president's rule loomed, BJP's Northeast in-charge Sambit Patra huddled with her in Kangpokpi, alongside CoTU leaders, absorbing pleas for hill dignity. Patra's closed-door session at her residence—post-meetings with former CM N. Biren Singh and Speaker Thokchom Satyabrata—signaled her as a bridge. The CoTU memo warned of "survival at risk" without action; Kipgen, per insiders, tempered it with calls for "healing and inclusive growth." By July 2025, as 21 MLAs (mostly BJP) urged Modi for a popular government, she was the hill face—Thadou heft to balance Naga and Kuki pulls.

Modi's Churachandpur cameo crowned her furthermore. Her X post? A masterclass in optics: "Expressed deepest gratitude to Hon’ble Prime Minister Shri Narendra Modi Ji for his visit to Manipur and for reaching out to the internally displaced persons (IDPs). His compassionate outreach reflects his commitment to healing, compassion & inclusive growth. PM Modi Ji’s vision of ‘Viksit Bharat’ inspires us to work tirelessly towards a future of peace, progress & development."

Honeyed and hashtag-ready, it positioned her as reconciliation's reasonable voice, with eyes on that cabinet slot. In the rented rooms of those 28 months, she'd been the diplomat, nodding to SoO extensions while militants loomed. Her tweet screams "team player," but to camp-dwellers in Kangpokpi—where Hun festival dances turned toxic over Thadou "not Kuki" chants—it's ascent over agony. Sources from national party think tanks peg her as the pick: Thadou clout for the popular government's hill quota, her constituency a buffer against unrest.

Even today, her unwavering loyalty to the party shines through her heartfelt birthday wishes for Prime Minister Narendra Modi, while other BJP MLAs have acted like outsiders. On the occasion of PM Modi's birthday, Kipgen once again expressed her admiration, reinforcing her suitability as a cabinet minister. Her Facebook post reads, "Warmest birthday greetings to our visionary leader Hon’ble Prime Minister Shri Narendra Modi Ji! May your vision and leadership continue to guide India toward progress and prosperity."

Contrast Kipgen's polish with Ngursanglur Sanate's principled reticence—a Hmar bulwark against hyphen haze. A three-time Tipaimukh MLA, Sanate inherited a legacy etched in Pherzawl's (formerly part of Churachandpur) border wilds. The younger Sanate, BJP since 2022, represents a seat hugging Assam, scarred by spillover: villages razed, families fleeing Myanmar echoes. Hmars—Sinlung migrants, weavers of intricate shawls, keepers of oral migrations—view "Kuki" as colonial erasure, a British kludge like "Chin" or "Lushai." Sanate's fight? Precision in identity, a lifeline for a tribe squeezed in the hyphen.

His August 2024 presser was thunder: "In pursuance of my previous press communiqué dated 2 May 2024, I hereby reaffirm my unwavering stand on the 'Kuki-Zomi-Hmar' nomenclature. I remain committed to upholding the aspirations and dreams of my people... I would like to make a solemn clarification that I have never endorsed, nor will I endorse any platform, organization or statement that excludes the 'HMAR' nomenclature." Echoing Paite's Vungzagin Valte ("non-inclusive and assimilative") and Vaiphei's LM Khaute ("suitable and inclusive term"), Sanate poked holes in the united front. "Kuki-Zo," he argued, swallows Hmar heritage—dialects, festivals, a history unbowed. In Tipaimukh's rugged terrain, this isn't semantics; it's a stake in zero-sum aid and talks.

It's a stance rooted in colonial-era gripes: the British slapped "Kuki" on disparate groups for administrative ease, much like "Chin" or "Lushai," and the Hmar have been pushing back ever since. In a conflict that's already marginalized smaller tribes, Sanate's words are a lifeline for visibility, but they also poke holes in the MLAs' united front.

Echoing him is Vungzagin Valte, the Paite MLA from Thanlon, another of the ten. Valte didn't mince words in his own August 2024 rebuke: "The recent usage of 'Kuki-Zo' is perceived by many within my represented communities as non-inclusive and assimilative." As a Paite from the Zomi fold—longtime rejectors of the "Kuki" label—he insists on terms that honor the "true historical, cultural, and social identity" of his people. 

Even LM Khaute, the neutral tweeter, waded in last year, advocating for "Kuki-Zomi-Hmar" as the "suitable and inclusive term." For these Hmar and allied voices, the Kuki-Zo banner waves like a false flag, lumping proud lineages into a generic blob that suits Delhi's narratives but starves local pride. It's a quiet rebellion within the rebellion, one that Modi's visit inadvertently amplified: how do you demand a homeland when you can't agree on the name?

Then there's Paolienlal Haokip, another BJP Kuki MLA, whose response landed like a gut punch: "The people hoped Hon’ble PM is coming to hear us. But not even 10 minutes, to listen to our woes, not even from party MLAs. Wastage of public resources for optics? I’ll meet and greet him when he has time to listen to the woes and aspirations of my people." Raw, unfiltered, and spot-on for the thousands rotting in relief camps, where Modi's fleeting wave feels like salt in the wound. Paolienlal Haokip isn't gunning for a promotion; he's the voice of the sidelined separationists, the one who sees through the spectacle.

And caught in the middle? Lallianmang Khaute, the JDU-turned-BJP MLA from the Vaiphei tribe, whose Facebook update reads like a press release from a parallel universe: "After inaugurating the Bairabi-Sairang new rail line and flagging off 3 train services—Aizawl-Delhi Rajdhani Express, Aizawl-Kolkata Express, and Aizawl-Guwahati Express today at Aizawl, Hon’ble PM Shri Narendra Modi Ji addressed a huge Public Gathering at Peace Ground, Churachandpur, Manipur." No thumbs up, no middle finger—just facts. It's the neutrality of someone playing the long game, his Vaiphei base a ticket to influence, whether in Delhi's corridors or a hypothetical Meetei circle.

The spill hit the streets first. On the eve of Modi's visit, vandals torched Pearsonmun arches, 2 km from town—juveniles arrested, mobs storming the station the next day, stones flying at Central Armed Police Forces (CAPF). Midnight on September 14: Calvin's (KNO external secretary, ex-ZRA vice president) Dorcas Veng home ablaze, with ZRA/ZRO fingered for "Kuki" dominance ire. Retaliation scorched ITLF's Ginza Vualzong—Zomi ditching "Kuki-Zo" in 2024, now turf wars over alleged funds, "Kukiland" vs. "Zogam" flags. KNO-UPF's joint lament: "Imbecilic incidents" amid raw wounds, IDPs in tents—plea for introspection over "selfish tendencies."

Look, I've got no skin in this game beyond a journalist's ache for sense in senselessness. But as someone who's trekked those hills once and sipped tea with displaced families, before the conflict, this implosion guts me. Modi's drop-in, brief as it was, cracked open a door: national eyes on hill suffering silently, not by Meetei, but due to their hyphenated reunions, simply put, arranged marriage at the barrel of guns. 

Yet these MLAs, with their mixed signals, are slamming it shut. Kipgen's Modi fanfic, Sanate's defense of Hmar identity, Paolienlal Haokip's broadsides—it's a PR disaster, painting the movement as petty and leaderless. Militants tighten the noose, sub-tribes sharpen knives, and suddenly the Centre have their alibi: "Told you they can't unite themselves."

This plays right into the colonial hangover of Northeast policy—stir the pot, then blame the boil.