For more than a year, Manipur has stood wounded—its society scarred by the ethnic clashes between hill tribes and plains people, its politics in shambles after the resignation of a duly elected BJP government, and its image badly bruised. When Prime Minister Narendra Modi finally set foot in Imphal this week, it was not just another high-profile visit. It was an assertion that healing must begin—not merely with words of comfort but with tangible investments that bridge divides, stitch communities together, and ensure that the dark chapter of mistrust does not repeat. The Centre’s announcement of ₹7,500 crore worth of infrastructure projects marks a turning point. More than just numbers, these projects have been carefully designed to serve both the valley and the hills. Roads and rail links that connect tribal areas with the state capital, power projects that illuminate remote villages, and modern health and educational facilities that do not discriminate between geography or ethnicity—these are not symbolic gestures. They are the bricks and mortar of reconciliation. For too long, Manipur’s political class allowed development to be weaponized: plains versus hills, Meiteis versus Kukis and Nagas, “insiders” versus “outsiders.” By ensuring equitable distribution of projects, Modi has sent an unmistakable message—there will be no first-class and second-class citizens in Manipur. The Prime Minister’s words may have sounded lofty to some, but they struck at an undeniable truth: for decades, successive Congress governments at the Centre treated the Northeast as a border outpost, not as an integral part of India. The neglect was not just administrative; it was psychological. Roads, hospitals, universities, and jobs flowed to other parts of the country while the seven sisters were left to fend for themselves. Insurgency was allowed to fester, corruption was tolerated in exchange for political loyalty, and the narrative of alienation took deep roots. The “divide and rule” tactics in Manipur—deliberately keeping hill tribes and valley people at odds—were part of that cynical politics of survival.
Contrast that with the Modi government’s “Act East” policy. What was earlier dismissed as a forgotten frontier is now being repositioned as India’s gateway to Southeast Asia. Cross-border trade, infrastructure corridors, and digital connectivity are transforming the region’s strategic value. Manipur, which once symbolized unrest, is being reimagined as a hub of opportunity. Whether it is the Trans-Asian Highway link, the push for sports infrastructure that produced Olympic athletes, or the rapid expansion of central universities and medical colleges, the Northeast today no longer feels abandoned. Of course, wounds in Manipur will not vanish overnight. The bitterness of clashes, the displacement of families, and the suspicion between communities still linger. But development is the only language that cuts across divides. When a tribal youth in Churachandpur finds employment through a new skills program, or when a Meitei farmer benefits from modern irrigation schemes, identity politics loses its sting. The ₹7,500 crore package must, therefore, be seen not as a fiscal allocation but as an investment in peace. Critics will argue that Modi’s visit was more about optics than outcomes. But in politics, optics matter when they are backed by intent. By directly accusing past Congress governments of treating the Northeast as “not part of India,” the Prime Minister forced the nation to confront a historical wrong. His government may not be flawless, but it has undeniably given the region visibility, dignity, and unprecedented funding. Manipur’s healing will depend on how quickly these promises are translated into reality—and on whether local leaders can rise above petty calculations to build bridges instead of walls. The truth is plain: neglect bred division, and division bred violence. If development now breeds unity, then Modi’s intervention deserves both credit and vigilance. Manipur’s story has always been about resilience. With New Delhi finally putting its weight behind inclusive growth, the state has a chance to turn the page. The healing has begun. It must not be squandered.
