In Naga society, four institutions have largely defined every aspect of public and private life: the government, the church, the tribal bodies, and the village. These four pillars, deeply embedded in the Naga consciousness, have long wielded unchallenged authority over the collective and individual existence. But times, slowly and subtly, are changing. Hopefully.
It was once unthinkable to publicly question, let alone challenge, any of these institutions. To do so meant inviting ostracism, if not outright punishment. Today, however, society is inching toward a healthier democratic environment. Among the four institutions, the government has become the most openly scrutinized. Despite its deeply entrenched corruption, where employees function like organisms surviving in a polluted ecosystem, there is growing courage among the people to speak out. Educated voices, activist groups, and independent media have, at times, forced the government into uncomfortable corners, leading to course correction. Still, the day a politician in Nagaland steps down due to public pressure over corruption remains a distant dream.
Even more sacrosanct than the government has been the church. For decades, the church occupied an untouchable space in society, its authority rarely questioned. But the tides are turning here as well. A new generation is beginning to speak out against internal church politics, mismanagement of funds, and the silent rot threatening its moral authority. The church must heed these voices, not with defensiveness, but with humility and reform. Its greatest threat is not secularism or liberalism, but internal decay. If the church loses its moral compass, its influence will erode not by attack, but by irrelevance.
Tribal bodies and village councils, however, remain the least questioned and the most feared. Their decisions, sometimes arbitrary, go largely unchallenged. Here, personal liberty takes a back seat, and democratic dissent is still seen as a form of betrayal. This silence is alarming. When villagers are afraid to speak truth to power within their own communities, democracy remains only a shadow. The journey to genuine freedom begins when people are allowed to question without fear.
In a truly democratic society, no institution is beyond critique. Respect does not mean blind obedience. If Naga society is to mature, it must protect the citizen’s right to speak up against injustice – whether it wears the robes of religion, the face of bureaucracy, or the mask of tradition.
Real democracy will not come to Nagaland by waiting. It will arrive when people reclaim their voices, insist on accountability, and dare to speak even when it is uncomfortable.