Was Nemcha Kipgen Responsible for the Mass Resignation Drama of CoTU?

The dramatic mass resignation from the Committee on Tribal Unity (CoTU) in Kangpokpi has once again thrown hill politics into sharp and uncomfortable focus. Following Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh’s recent visit to Senapati district, passing through the sensitive Kuki dominated Kangpokpi area — the first such high-profile journey in nearly three years since the ethnic violence erupted in May 2023 — members of the Central Defence Committee and subsequently CoTU office bearers submitted their resignations. 

On the surface, some voices have attempted to link this development directly to the Chief Minister’s passage through the so-called buffer zones. Yet a closer, unflinching examination reveals a far more complex reality. The central question that demands honest answers is this: Was Deputy Chief Minister Nemcha Kipgen responsible for the CoTU mass resignation drama? 

While the answer is not a simplistic yes or no, the weight of evidence points more towards deep-rooted internal fractures, factional power struggles, and accumulated grievances than to any single external action. However, Nemcha Kipgen’s moderate voice for the state and her political choices have undeniably contributed to the growing disconnect that made such a dramatic exit almost inevitable.

It is important to set the record straight right at the outset. The mass resignation of CoTU members had absolutely nothing to do with Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh’s visit as a direct cause or provocation. The Chief Minister has been very clear and consistent in his approach. His government will not appease any particular community at this sensitive juncture. In the present volatile atmosphere, this neutral and firm stand is perhaps the wisest and most responsible course available. 

CM Y Khemchand has emphasised inclusive development, restoration of connectivity, and peace outreach across all districts without taking sides or playing favourites. Blaming the Chief Minister for the resignations serves only as a convenient distraction — one that conveniently shifts attention away from the deeper malaise afflicting the so-called hyphenated Kuki-Zo communities. 

These groups routinely project an image of unity to the outside world while bitterly fighting among themselves over power, influence, control, recognition, and access to political office. One of the many immediate triggers for the mass resignation lay in events that unfolded a few days earlier. 

On April 8, a gunfight broke out between Naga and Kuki groups near Sinakeithel and Tingpibung. In that skirmish, a Kuki village volunteer was injured. In response, a rally was organised in connection with the injured volunteer. Shockingly, the rally received virtually no public support or turnout. 

This lack of mobilisation sent a clear and painful message to the volunteers and their supporters: the people appear to feel there is no longer any pressing need for the Kuki-Zo Village Volunteers (KZVV) in their current form. The sense of abandonment and frustration deepened when Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand travelled through Kangpokpi without any significant objection or resistance from local Kuki leaders or the general public. 

For those who had stood on the frontlines since the outbreak of violence in May 2023 — sacrificing their time, safety, resources, and personal lives to protect community lands and interests — this silence felt like outright betrayal and ingratitude. They argued bitterly that despite years of selfless service, both the political leaders and the public had stopped recognising or valuing their contributions. 

Feeling sidelined, unappreciated, and politically marginalised, the Central Defence Committee members collectively resigned from their CoTU membership. Soon afterwards, CoTU office bearers too decided to submit their resignations, turning what could have been internal discontent into a very public “mass resignation drama.”These developments expose the raw internal contradictions that have long simmered beneath the surface of projected unity. 

The frustration of ground-level volunteers, the poor response to the April 8 rally, the muted reaction to the CM’s convoy, and the growing resentment against perceived dominance by a handful of families are all symptoms of deeper intra-community feuds. The so-called Kuki-Zo unity, often displayed forcefully to outsiders, frequently masks serious rifts over who controls key institutions like CoTU, who legitimately speaks for the broader community, and who reaps the benefits of political elevation. 

In this charged atmosphere, the mass resignation appears less like a principled stand against the Chief Minister and more like an emotional outburst born of accumulated internal grievances, power imbalances, and a widening gap between those who bear the physical burden of protection and those who enjoy the privileges of office.

This brings us directly to the role and responsibility of Nemcha Kipgen. For far too long, CoTU has not functioned as a genuinely independent civil society organisation. Critics from within and outside the community have repeatedly pointed out that it has operated more as a political extension of Nemcha Kipgen’s inner circle than as an autonomous body representing diverse tribal voices in Kangpokpi. 

Its actions, protest calls, public narratives, and strategic positions have consistently aligned with her political interests and those linked to her husband, Semtinthang Kipgen, who is widely associated with Kuki National Front (P) faction circles. This close nexus has effectively hijacked the democratic voice of Kangpokpi, converting institutions that should serve the people into instruments for personal, family, and factional advantage. 

When civil bodies lose their independence and become mouthpieces for specific leaders, they inevitably lose credibility and invite internal backlash.The timing of the resignations only deepens public suspicion about underlying motives. CM Y Khemchand’s road journey through Kangpokpi was viewed by some as a symbolic and practical step towards normalcy — restoring connectivity on National Highway-2 and signalling a cautious return to peaceful coexistence. 

For hardliners within CoTU and the volunteer network, however, it represented a breach of the informal security zones which they imagined as buffer zones that had been rigidly enforced as a mark of resistance since 2023. When neither the local Kuki MLA nor the public mounted any robust opposition, the accumulated frustration of the volunteers spilled over. 

Rather than reflecting genuine soul-searching or organisational reform, the dramatic exits carry the strong odour of damage control — a staged performance designed to mask years of perceived complicity while attempting to regain some lost sympathy from a disillusioned public.

Nemcha Kipgen’s influence has not been limited to CoTU alone. Under the shadow of her and Semtinthang Kipgen’s growing clout, other Kuki-based organisations such as the Kuki Inpi Sadar Hills have reportedly faced systematic marginalisation or silencing. Dissenting voices within the community have often been crushed or sidelined, replaced by carefully curated narratives that serve a narrow clique rather than the broader welfare of the hills. 

The aggressive promotion of selective “Thadou upliftment” and narrow identity politics has further exacerbated divisions instead of healing them. The hills of Manipur are a rich and complex mosaic of tribes — Kuki, Zomi, Thadou, and several others — each carrying legitimate aspirations and distinct cultural identities. When one subgroup or faction attempts to monopolise socio-political space and prioritises narrow interests over inclusive development, the inevitable result is alienation, resentment, and deepening intra-tribal rifts. Unity becomes the first casualty of such ambition.

Parallel to these internal dynamics, strong sentiments have emerged from Churachandpur and among Zomi communities. Some prominent voices have urged Nemcha Kipgen and Semtinthang Kipgen to immediately cease what they describe as unwarranted interference in Churachandpur and Zomi affairs. Such overreach, they assert firmly, is neither welcomed nor legitimate. 

The clear advice ringing out from these quarters is straightforward: confine your political engagements to Kangpokpi and focus on the genuine concerns of your own constituents. Any continued intrusion will be met with firm and collective resistance aimed at safeguarding Zomi political space and integrity. 

This assertion gained sharper expression just days before the CoTU resignations when a prominent Zomi leader has rebuked Nemcha Kipgen in strong local idiom: “Nemcha in Churachandpur tantan hong sawknang thi omlo, First or Second class ki etdi himai.” 

Roughly translated, the message was unmistakable — Nemcha’s interference in Churachandpur is completely unreasonable and unwelcome. “Let’s see who is first or second class,” the statement challenged, striking directly at any notion of hierarchical dominance or superior claim over Zomi territories. The pot was clearly boiling long before the resignation drama unfolded.

Interestingly, around the same time, Nemcha Kipgen publicly condoled the tragic Tronglaobi incident in Bishnupur district on April 7, where two innocent toddlers — a five-year-old boy and his five-month-old sister — were killed in a projectile attack on their home, while their mother was seriously injured. She described the killings as “deeply distressing and wholly unacceptable,” stating that the loss of innocent children strikes at the conscience of society and demands collective responsibility. 

She extended heartfelt condolences to the bereaved family and wished speedy recovery to the injured mother. Yet this gesture of grief, coming from her position as Deputy Chief Minister, did little to ease tensions within certain Kuki and CoTU circles, who viewed her broader political positioning with suspicion.

Adding to the internal unease, the Thadou Hun festival held in Kangpokpi around the same period also failed to bring cheer to CoTU and wider Kuki communities. The event, attended by Nemcha Kipgen as important VIP alongside other leaders, featured appeals for peace and cultural celebration. 

However, her public statements emphasising Thadou identity within the larger Kuki framework reportedly created discomfort and dissatisfaction among sections that prefer a more unified or differently nuanced tribal narrative. 

Instead of fostering solidarity, the festival and associated remarks seemed to highlight existing fault lines and selective identity assertions that have long irked parts of the community, further feeding the sense of alienation that contributed to the CoTU resignations.

Nemcha Kipgen’s elevation to the post of Deputy Chief Minister earlier this year had already sparked significant protests, social boycotts, and even violence in parts of the Kuki and Zomi areas, including Churachandpur. Many viewed her decision to join the government — alongside Naga leader Losii Dikho — as defying a perceived collective community mandate that called for maintaining strategic distance until core demands, particularly around administrative safeguards or separation, were adequately addressed. 

These earlier tensions, combined with the recent public rebukes, the volunteers’ sense of betrayal, and the mixed reactions to her recent public gestures, have created a fertile ground for internal explosions like the CoTU resignations.  

Yet it would be intellectually dishonest to lay the entire responsibility for the drama solely at Nemcha Kipgen’s door. She is undoubtedly a central and influential figure whose political style and close control over institutions like CoTU have contributed substantially to the growing disconnect between leadership and the grassroots. 

Therefore, this resignation should not be mistaken for a genuine turning point or a meaningful shift in the political landscape. It is nothing more than a calculated strategic retreat, carefully orchestrated to preserve influence while creating an illusion of change. 

The public must remain vigilant and see through this political theatre, refusing to be swayed by superficial gestures that mask deeper patterns of manipulation.