The Northeast of India, comprising seven states, is often called the “Seven Sisters” — a name that sounds warm, united and full of belonging. The term suggests the familiar bond of sisters standing by each other in times of need.
The idea of the “Seven Sisters” was never merely geographical. It represented shared histories, similar struggles and a sense of unity among the peoples of the region.
But today, that idea feels fragile. As violence continues in Manipur, one question keeps surfacing: are we truly sisters, or is it just a name we have accepted without living its meaning? Like sisters in a family, the expectation was simple — to stand together, especially in moments of pain. Yet what we are witnessing now is one sister burning while the others look away.
Layers of the Manipur crisis
It has been three full years of suffering in Manipur. At its core, the crisis is not only a violent rupture between the valley-based Meitei community and the hill-based Kuki-Zo tribes. It contains many layers and hidden interests, because conflicts do not endure this long unless someone benefits from them. To look only at the flames while ignoring what fuels them would be deeply ignorant.
The conflict between Kukis and Meiteis is being intensified by several underlying factors. Manipur’s proximity to the Golden Triangle region near the Myanmar border has made it a significant corridor for drug trafficking activities.
At the same time, the presence of armed groups has expanded across several communities, with economic instability contributing to increased recruitment. There are also indications that some groups may be receiving financial support from drug cartels, as prolonged instability can facilitate the movement of illicit substances.
Another dimension lies in the economic potential of the hill regions. Large parts of Manipur’s hills are believed to contain valuable natural resources, including substantial deposits of limestone, chromite, nickel and copper. Continued instability weakens oversight and makes it increasingly difficult to monitor activities in these territories.
When concern becomes temporary
The response to the crisis in Manipur has been marked not by widespread outrage, but by its absence from the very beginning. Beyond a few isolated voices attempting to draw attention to the issue, there has been little sustained national focus or collective urgency.
Even within the Northeast, where the language of shared identity is frequently invoked, solidarity has remained limited. Neither political leadership nor the broader public across the region consistently stood with Manipur in a visible or unified manner.
As a result, whatever concern did emerge was brief, scattered and faded before it could translate into sustained awareness or accountability. This pattern — where concern becomes temporary almost as soon as it appears — has allowed the crisis to continue without the pressure that often drives meaningful response.
In that sense, the silence is not merely a consequence of the crisis; it has become part of the crisis itself.
The failure of solidarity
The idea of the “Seven Sisters” has always sounded strong and unbreakable — a bond meant to endure no matter the circumstances. But the crisis in Manipur has exposed how distant that idea truly is.
When Manipur needed voices, support and presence, what it received instead was silence — not only from the rest of the country, but from within the Northeast itself. Neither political leaders nor ordinary citizens stood up in a way that felt united or loud enough to matter.
And when silence becomes the response, it does not merely reflect inaction; it reveals how fragile that sense of sisterhood really is. The silence surrounding Manipur is not empty. It is built from everything we have collectively chosen not to confront.
Why solidarity with Manipur matters
Solidarity with Manipur matters because what is happening there is not distant. It is unfolding within a region that repeatedly describes itself as one family. The states of the Northeast may differ in language, culture and history, but they also share experiences of marginalisation, misunderstanding and neglect.
When Manipur suffers, it is not only Manipur’s crisis — it reflects on the entire region. Yet the absence of solidarity today feels like a quiet betrayal of our own sister.
When we fail to stand for one another in moments of pain, the idea of that bond begins to lose meaning. It becomes difficult to expect understanding or support from the rest of the country when we ourselves cannot offer it within our own region.
Solidarity is not simply about showing up. It is about proving that the connection we speak of is real. Without it, what remains is not unity, but distance — even among those meant to stand together.
Breaking the silence
Breaking the silence is not merely about speaking. It is about refusing to look away.
It begins with paying attention, with choosing not to let this crisis become something distant or forgettable. It means listening to voices from Manipur, acknowledging their reality, and refusing to reduce their suffering to passing headlines.
But beyond that, it requires people across the Northeast and beyond to stand up and demonstrate that silence is not the only response we are capable of. Because silence, too, can become a form of complicity in the systematic violence unfolding in Manipur.
If we truly believe in oneness, in shared identity and in the idea of standing together, then breaking this silence is no longer optional. The identity of the “Seven Sisters” is a powerful one. But if one sister’s pain does not move the others, then the unity we claim must be reconsidered.
Ultimately, the question is not only about Manipur. It is about who we are as a region, and whether we are willing to stand together not merely in name, but in action.
In a country where the identities and ethnicities of the Northeast are often sidelined, failing to stand beside Manipur today raises a troubling question: if tomorrow the violence reaches another sister, who will stand up then?
Views expressed are that of the author and do not reflect EastMojo’s stance on this or any other issue.
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