Tribalism is often understood as the strong identification of an individual with a particular group, based on shared ancestry, culture, language, history or community. In a diverse society such as Nagaland, tribal identity is an important part of social life. It gives people a sense of belonging, preserves cultural traditions and creates bonds of solidarity. There is nothing inherently wrong with this.
Indeed, positive tribalism can serve a useful purpose. It can encourage communities to preserve their languages and traditions, support one another in times of difficulty and work collectively for social and economic advancement. Pride in one’s tribe can coexist perfectly well with respect for other tribes.
The problem begins when tribal identity becomes the primary lens through which everything is judged. Negative tribalism emerges when loyalty to one’s group overrides fairness, merit and common interests. It produces an unhealthy “us versus them” mentality, where the achievement of one individual is treated as the achievement of a tribe and the success of another becomes a matter of tribal competition.
A recent example should concern every Naga. As the government conferred awards on officials at the national, state and district levels on the occasion of India’s 80th Independence Day, a disturbing conversation emerged in certain circles: Who among the awardees belongs to our tribe? How many are from our tribe? How many are from other tribes? Similar conversations surface whenever the results of the Nagaland Public Service Commission (NPSC) examinations are declared, with successful candidates often viewed through the prism of tribal identity rather than their individual merit.
Such questions may appear harmless, but they reveal how deeply tribal calculations have entered our thinking. The recipients were recognised as individual government servants for their service, commitment and achievements. They were not honoured as representatives of their respective tribes, nor were their tribal identities the basis for the recognition they received.
Yet, when an individual achievement is turned into a tribal scorecard, the achievement itself becomes secondary. The focus shifts from what the person accomplished to which tribe they belong. Merit is consequently reduced to a competition between communities, as though one tribe’s recognition somehow comes at the expense of another.
This way of thinking is precisely where legitimate tribal identity begins to slide into negative tribalism. There is nothing wrong with taking pride in the success of someone from our own tribe. The problem arises when we cannot celebrate an achievement unless we first establish whether the achiever belongs to our tribe or another.
Nagaland certainly needs strong tribal identities. But it also needs a stronger civic identity that allows us to appreciate excellence wherever it comes from. We should be able to celebrate a Naga from another tribe without feeling that our own tribe has lost something.
A society becomes stronger when it can say, ”He or she has done well,” before asking, ”Which tribe are they from?”
Tribal pride should give us roots, not blinders. Our identities can remain strong without becoming walls between us.