Why Do Buffer Zones Persist Longer in the Kuki-Meitei Areas, Was It Deliberate Separation?

Since May 2023, Manipur has been torn apart by buffer zones that segregate the Meitei and Kuki-Zo communities, creating India’s most protracted man-made territorial division in recent history. 

For over 725 days, these militarized lines, slicing through districts like Churachandpur, Bishnupur, Kangpokpi, Kakching and Imphal, have endured far beyond the fleeting separations of the 2002 Gujarat riots, which faded within months. 

Designed as a temporary measure to quell the Manipur violence, these zones have instead entrenched a profound sense of alienation, devastated livelihoods, and obliterated prospects for reconciliation. Their persistence raises a troubling question: were these buffer zones a well-intentioned but flawed attempt at peacekeeping, or a calculated strategy to permanently fracture Manipur’s pluralistic identity and segregate its people?

When violence erupted in May 2023, claiming over 300 lives and displacing more than 70,000 people, the buffer zones were deployed as an emergency measure to halt the bloodshed. By physically separating Kuki-Zo and Meitei populations, they initially succeeded in reducing direct confrontations. But their continuation for over two years has transformed a short-term fix into a catastrophic failure. The September 2024 drone bombings by Kuki-Zo terrorists in Koutruk and Kadangband, which killed innocent Meitei civilians, exposed the zones’ glaring inadequacy: they cannot protect against aerial attacks or curb cross-border militancy. Instead, they have normalized a state of segregation, with abandoned villages, contested highways, and restricted movement strangling the state’s social and economic life. Kuki-Zo councils’ resistance to free movement has deepened the divide, leaving over 70,000 people stranded in relief camps, their hopes of returning home dashed by the enduring barriers.

These buffer zones are not just a policy failure—they are a betrayal of Manipur’s rich history of coexistence. For two centuries, Meiteis and Kuki-Zos lived side by side, their cultural, economic, and social ties weaving a vibrant pluralistic tapestry despite periodic tensions. Now, those bonds have been shredded by psychological and physical barriers that have turned once-mixed villages into ethnically segregated enclaves. The prolonged separation has emboldened separatist visions, with some Kuki groups exploiting the de facto partition to carve out a “Kukiland” along these artificial borders.

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The buffer zones in Manipur have torn families apart, creating heart-wrenching separations that underscore the human toll of this prolonged division. Naulak, a Zou businessman, fled Imphal for Delhi when violence erupted in May 2023, leaving behind his Meitei wife, Leima, who couldn’t join him due to financial constraints. For nearly a year, the couple endured the pain of separation, with Naulak struggling to survive in a new city while Leima remained trapped in Imphal. Only after securing a stable income could Naulak reunite with Leima in Delhi, but the buffer zones barred them from returning to Imphal or settling in Churachandpur, leaving their lives uprooted.

Similarly, Chaoba, a Meitei laborer, was forced to send his Kuki wife, Chongloi, and their five-year-old son to safety in Kangpokpi during the height of the violence. After two years of separation, Chaoba’s son has forgotten how to speak Manipuri, and the bond between father and son has been eroded by the artificial borders imposed by the buffer zones, turning familial love into a casualty of conflict. Meanwhile, reports of a Meitei husband allegedly torturing his Kuki wife after two years of this chaos appear to be propaganda peddled by vested interests to sabotage the fragile peace process, further deepening mistrust. These stories of fractured families and manipulated narratives highlight the urgent need for people-to-people interaction to heal Manipur’s wounds, as the prolonged separation has already inflicted enough suffering on its people.

Severe attacks in Phougakchao, Torbung, and Jiribam, which persisted despite the zones, showcase their ineffectiveness. Unlike other Indian states like Assam, Gujarat or Uttar Pradesh, where ethnic conflicts were resolved without such prolonged divisions, Manipur’s buffer zones have morphed into a de facto partition, fostering mutual resentment and economic collapse. They have entrenched an “us vs. them” narrative, making the dream of a shared future increasingly elusive.

The persistence of these buffer zones cannot be understood in isolation from Manipur’s fraught geopolitical context. The state shares a 400-km porous border with Myanmar, a nation engulfed in civil war since the 2021 military coup. Myanmar’s Sagaing Region, adjacent to Manipur, is a hotbed of anti-junta militias and ethnic insurgencies, creating a volatile spillover that fuels Manipur’s unrest.

The Kuki-Zo’s ethnic ties with Myanmar’s Chin and Zomi communities raise Indian security concerns about arms smuggling and militant infiltration. Sophisticated weapons, including drones used in the Koutruk and Kadangband attacks, likely entered through Mizoram’s border with Myanmar’s Chin State, facilitated by ethnic networks. Reports of Mizoram’s civil society and politicians supporting Chin refugees, while humanitarian in intent, may inadvertently shield militant logistics. A Mizoram MP’s visit to Chin rebel camps and the presence of Western mercenaries training rebels in Myanmar add a layer of international intrigue to India’s strategic dilemma.

India’s response to these cross-border threats has been markedly restrained compared to its decisive actions against Pakistan-sponsored terrorism. This hesitation stems from Myanmar’s role as a key asset in India’s Act East Policy, which seeks to counter China’s influence through projects like the Kaladan Multi-Modal Transit Transport Project and the India-Myanmar-Thailand trilateral highway. Viewing Myanmar’s instability as a byproduct of its civil war rather than a direct attack on Indian soil, India prioritizes diplomacy and border management over military escalation.

The scrapping of the Free Movement Regime in 2024 and plans for border fencing signal tighter control, but the failure to seal borders in 2023 allowed arms to flow freely, fueling Kuki-Zo militancy. Meitei organizations like COCOMI have repeatedly accused the Centre of inaction in disarming Kuki militants, contrasting this with the ceremonial weapon surrender by the Meitei group Arambai Tenggol in response to the Governor’s appeal. Such perceived biases have deepened ethnic polarization, with the buffer zones serving as a convenient but flawed tool to manage the fallout.

The human cost of these buffer zones is staggering. They have upended daily life, severing communities from their economic lifelines. Farmers in border areas cannot access their fields, markets are cut off, and supply chains have collapsed, plunging entire communities into economic distress. Schools and healthcare facilities, often located across buffer lines, remain out of reach, disproportionately affecting women and children. Relief camps, intended as temporary shelters, have become semi-permanent homes for tens of thousands, their suffering prolonged by restricted access and the absence of a clear path to return. This economic and social strangulation, absent in shorter-lived conflicts elsewhere in India, threatens to render Manipur a permanently fractured state, with ripple effects destabilising India’s Northeast.

The buffer zones have also eroded the social fabric that once bound Manipur’s communities. By institutionalising segregation, they have replaced coexistence with suspicion, turning neighbours into strangers. The prolonged division risks creating a generation that knows only enmity, undermining Manipur’s pluralistic identity and setting a dangerous precedent for ethnic based riots across India’s diverse spectrum.

Manipur’s artificial border, envisioned as a shield against violence, have become a symbol of governance failure, entrenching division, undermining security, and betraying the state’s pluralistic heritage. India must summon the courage displayed in its decisive response to the Pahalgam terror attack, dismantling these artificial barriers through a comprehensive, time-bound strategy.

Buffer zones should be gradually replaced with community policing and joint patrols involving trusted local leaders to rebuild confidence and foster reconciliation. Secure corridors must be established to restore access to farmlands and markets, supported by robust development packages to revive the economic life of affected areas.

Peace talks between Kuki-Zo and Meitei representatives, stalled since the rejected April 2025 proposals, must be accelerated, addressing core grievances like illegally occupying ancestral lands and religious sites of the community, thereby ensuring accountability for acts of violence. 

Simultaneously, India must strengthen surveillance along the Myanmar border to curb arms smuggling, while engaging Mizoram’s civil society to prevent anti Manipur campaign, ensuring humanitarian efforts do not inadvertently fuel Manipur violence. Only through such bold, multifaceted action can Manipur heal the wounds of separation, reclaim its shared identity, and avert a fractured Northeast that weakens India’s regional standing. Without this courage, the state’s dream of unity will remain a distant hope, and the buffer zones will stand as a lasting monument to division.