The younger generation of Nagas, connected via social media to the rest of India, expresses far less sympathy for insurgency. Their aspiration is opportunity.
New Delhi: Nagaland, often described as one of the most socially progressive societies in the Northeast, is paradoxically also one of the most conflict-scarred. Its vibrant mosaic of tribes, each fiercely proud of its heritage, has long grappled with the balance between preserving identity and fostering unity. At the centre of this struggle stands the idea of a singular Naga identity—an aspiration that has inspired generations but has also been deeply contested.
For decades, insurgent movements have claimed to be the custodians of this vision. The most prominent among them, the National Socialist Council of Nagalim (Isak-Muivah), or NSCN-IM, emerged in the 1980s as a militant organisation that sought to carve out an independent Naga homeland. While it once claimed legitimacy as a political movement, its legacy today is increasingly defined not by ideology but by racketeering, extortion, and corporate-style profiteering. Among Nagas, especially the younger generation more connected to mainstream India, resentment against these practices is on the rise.
FROM REVOLUTIONARY TO RACKETEER
The NSCN-IM was formed in 1980 after a split within the Naga National Council (NNC). Its founders, Thuingaleng Muivah and Isak Chishi Swu, positioned the group as the inheritor of the Naga struggle for sovereignty. Over the years, it built a parallel state structure with ministries, taxation departments, and armed wings. For many Nagas, the NSCN-IM was initially seen as a vehicle for asserting their rights. But over time, the revolutionary mantle gave way to entrenched interests. The group institutionalised “taxation” systems, demanding money from traders, government employees, and contractors. In practice, this became a shadow economy—one that allowed the organisation to sustain itself while draining Nagaland’s fragile economy.
The group signed a ceasefire with the Indian government in 1997, raising hopes for peace. Yet, while negotiations dragged on, the NSCN-IM entrenched itself economically. What was once a movement has morphed into what locals increasingly call a “corporate insurgency.”
THE SOVEREIGNTY TAX
A recent media investigation revealed the scale of this parallel economy. The NSCN-IM reportedly set a target of Rs 158 crore in “sovereignty tax” collections for the fiscal year 2025-26. This levy, enforced under the guise of funding the “Naga cause,” extends to essential commodities such as rice, oil, and fuel, as well as construction materials, bidis, and betel nuts.
For small traders, this creates an impossible dilemma. A shopkeeper in Dimapur may pay taxes to the state government on one side and to the NSCN-IM on the other. Refusal invites intimidation, threats, and sometimes violence. As one local businessman put it privately: “You pay because you want to stay alive, not because you support them.”
The extent of this shadow economy is staggering. Construction projects, from highways to schools, are bled by layers of insurgent levies. Even government employees are not spared—many report that a portion of their salaries is siphoned off as “tax.” In effect, the insurgency has embedded itself into Nagaland’s economic bloodstream.
A CONTRACTOR’S DEFIANCE
In August 2024, resistance against these practices flared. A prominent contractor was served a demand of Rs 5 lakh by the NSCN-K/Khango faction. His refusal to comply was met with a death threat. The case reverberated across Nagaland, symbolising both the audacity of insurgent demands and the growing frustration among the public. Civil society groups quietly circulated petitions calling for stronger state intervention, though most signatories avoided publicity out of fear of reprisal.
Such incidents illustrate the tightening squeeze on ordinary Nagas—caught between militant demands and the daily grind of survival. They also reflect a subtle but important shift: a growing willingness among some to resist, despite the risks.
ARMS, AMMUNITION AND INFLUENCE
Illegal taxation is only one facet of NSCN-IM’s operations. Arms trafficking adds another layer of instability. In one high-profile case last year, a senior NSCN-IM leader was arrested in Manipur for allegedly supplying ammunition to another armed outfit. Following the arrest, Nagaland police seized 2,480 rounds of ammunition. More troubling still, investigations revealed the involvement of a serving Nagaland police officer.
The incident underlined two realities. First, that insurgent groups continue to thrive in cross-border networks that stretch from Nagaland and Manipur into Myanmar’s conflict zones. Second, that their influence can corrode state institutions from within. For ordinary Nagas, such revelations deepen the sense that insurgents are not isolated actors but shadow players embedded in governance and security structures.
CIVIL SOCIETY’S DILEMMA
Nagaland’s civil society, led in many cases by church organisations and tribal councils, has historically acted as mediator between insurgents, government, and citizens. The Church played a central role in brokering the 1997 ceasefire and has continued to call for reconciliation. But as NSCN-IM and its splinter groups expand their economic footprint, civil society’s influence is tested. Traders’ bodies and business associations occasionally issue public statements condemning extortion, but follow up with silence when threatened. “Everyone knows the system is wrong,” said a civil society activist, “but very few are ready to stick their necks out.” The fear is not misplaced; insurgent reprisals can be swift and violent.
THE ECONOMICS OF FEAR
The cumulative impact of these practices is devastating for Nagaland’s economy. Small and medium businesses—the backbone of local commerce—operate under crippling uncertainty. Every truckload of cement, every consignment of petrol, and every kilo of rice is taxed twice over. Entrepreneurs who might have invested in expansion instead funnel money into protection.
Young Nagas, particularly those returning from studies elsewhere in India, find themselves trapped. Many express a desire to build careers in their home state but remain deterred by what they call the “taxation mafia.” This contributes to a cycle of outmigration, brain drain, and economic stagnation.
A REGION HELD HOSTAGE
The situation is further complicated by Nagaland’s geography. Its porous borders with Myanmar have historically allowed insurgents to retreat across the frontier. Camps in Myanmar’s Sagaing region have long served as sanctuaries. Efforts at joint India-Myanmar counter-insurgency cooperation have produced limited results, especially given Myanmar’s own descent into turmoil since the 2021 coup.
Meanwhile, the ripple effects spill over into neighbouring states. Manipur, already convulsed by its own ethnic violence, has been a hub of arms trafficking. Assam and Arunachal Pradesh occasionally report insurgent activity linked back to Naga groups. The problem, therefore, is not confined to Nagaland but resonates across the Northeast.
SEARCHING FOR SOLUTIONS
Successive governments in New Delhi have sought to negotiate with NSCN-IM, most prominently through the Framework Agreement signed in 2015. While hailed at the time as a breakthrough, the agreement remains shrouded in ambiguity. NSCN-IM continues to push for a separate flag and constitution—demands New Delhi resists. The stalemate has allowed the organisation to continue its racketeering unimpeded.
What, then, is the way forward? Experts argue for a multi-pronged approach. Robust law enforcement is one pillar—dismantling extortion rackets and targeting arms trafficking networks. But this must be accompanied by political clarity; ambiguity in the peace process only strengthens insurgent leverage. Finally, economic revival is essential. Development projects that bypass insurgent “taxation” networks, coupled with genuine opportunities for young Nagas, are crucial to breaking the cycle of dependency.
Despite the entrenched challenges, the mood on the ground is shifting. The younger generation of Nagas, connected via social media to the rest of India, expresses far less sympathy for insurgent narratives. Their aspiration is not secession but opportunity—jobs, infrastructure, and a normal life free from the constant shadow of threats.
The term “corporate insurgency” has gained currency because it captures the reality: groups like NSCN-IM are no longer revolutionary movements but entrenched profiteers. Nagaland’s citizens increasingly view them not as liberators but as obstacles to progress.
The people of Nagaland deserve more than a life lived under the weight of extortion and fear. For too long, insurgent groups have masqueraded as political actors while functioning as criminal enterprises. Restoring rule of law, reinforcing democratic institutions, and safeguarding livelihoods are non-negotiable if the state is to move forward.
Ending the corporate insurgency is not just about dismantling an armed group. It is about reclaiming the future for an entire generation of Nagas who want to build, not bleed. That, ultimately, will be the true measure of whether Nagaland can step out of the long shadow of NSCN-IM and claim the peace and prosperity its people have long sought.
Ashish Singh is an award-winning senior journalist with over 18 years of experience in defence and strategic affairs.
