Big Media’s coverage of Northeast India has never been adequate, but now it’s worse

 Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on December 9 2021

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2021/12/09/big-medias-coverage-of-northeast-india-has-never-been-adequate-but-now-its-worse

Oting, Mon district. Before December 4, few would have known of the existence of this tiny village in Nagaland's eastern province of Mon, home to the Konyak tribe. But since late afternoon of that day, in a region where the sun sets earlier than the rest of the country in these winter months, six men were shot down and two seriously injured as they made their way to their village after a day of back-breaking work in the coal mines.

It is difficult, but not impossible, to reach Oting. A day later, at least one major media house invested in sending its reporter to the village. The reports by Tora Agarwala of Indian Express, placed as the first lead on the front page, are an example of how this story should be told. Not as the “botched army operation” that most mainstream media reported in the immediate aftermath. But a story with names, faces, context and history that will inform and touch readers.

The very fact that I am pointing this out is in itself a story – one that people in Nagaland and across the northeast constantly reiterate. That the media on the “mainland”, as they refer to the rest of India, reports sporadically and superficially about their region, as I have mentioned in an earlier column.

Distance and inaccessibility cannot be an excuse anymore. The northeast region is now well connected by air and rail. Mobile connectivity has shrunk further the distance. But the real distance is not a physical one; it is a mental one. It is an inability to take the time to understand the multi-layered and complex history of a region that is lumped into one only because of its geographical location. In fact, each state, and even within states, there are distinct and overlapping histories that form the context of current developments.

Tora Agarwala's stories give us the names of some of the 14 civilians who died on December 4 and 5. She reached Oting within a day of the incident. Her first report appeared on the front page of Indian Express on December 6. She told us about Langwang and Thapwang, identical twins who were shot and killed that day. They were 25 years old.

There is also the story of Hokup, who was married to Monglong just 10 days before he was killed, as reported in Morung Express, a daily newspaper published from Dimapur. His widow told the reporter, “I want the world to know that my husband was neither a terrorist nor a militant.”

Perhaps the most important story by Agarwala appeared on the front page of Indian Express on December 8. She spoke to 23-year-old Sheiwang, one of two who survived the attack. He is quoted as saying "Direct marise...they shot right at us, no signal to stop, we did not flee.” This was said a day after home minister Amit Shah made a statement in Parliament calling it an “unfortunate incident” and claimed that the vehicle was “signaled to stop” but that it “tried to flee”. Sheiwang's statement, and others that have followed, have painted a starkly different picture of the incident.

Sheiwang survived the attack but the way he and Yeihwang, the other survivor, were left at the Assam Medical College and Hospital in Dibrugarh, as reported by Agarwala, is shocking. They were brought there by security forces with no explanation about who they were. Their identities were unearthed because the hospital staff, on their own initiative, uploaded their photographs on social media after they heard about Oting. That's how their relatives came to know and were able to attend to them.

These stories remind us that so-called “botched” army operations, and admission of “mistaken identity” after the fact, involve real people who are not statistics.

These stories are just the beginning of the unraveling of what really happened. There are still many questions that remain unanswered. There is also an important context connected to Nagaland’s political history that needs to be understood to fully comprehend why and how these killings happened. This piece by Dolly Kikon, a Naga academic whose research has included Mon district, provides that.

Nagaland might be a “disturbed area” in official parlance but in fact, people in the state have been living peacefully for several decades. There have been agreements and ceasefires. There are incidents of intermittent clashes between factions of militant groups with the security forces. But this has not been the dominant feature of life in the state.

So, the question that still needs to be asked, and answered, is why a special group of commandos from the army set out to ambush a suspected group of militants without taking into confidence either the local police or the Assam Rifles based in Mon. There will be speculation but whether we will ever get the real story is doubtful, given past experience. Meantime, the focus has now shifted to demands for the repeal of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act.

As far as media coverage of the Oting killings is concerned, barring Indian Express, there was practically no other major newspaper that invested in basic newsgathering or sending a reporter to the area. Even the Telegraph, published from Kolkata, did not carry ground reports. Independent digital platforms like Scroll, Print and Wire did have reports.

This indicates a marked change in the coverage of the northeast that has never been adequate, even in the best of times. A couple of decades back, major newspapers had correspondents in Assam and at least one other northeastern state, such as Manipur. They also encouraged these reporters to travel to the different states and report directly about developments there. As a result, for those of us on the “mainland” who were interested in the region, we could read granular coverage in major Indian newspapers.

Today, if you want detailed news, the only option is to turn to the online editions of newspapers from the region or digital platforms like East Mojo to get the news. The northeast appears only if there is a major natural calamity, or if there is an incident like the one in Oting, and then disappears.

Although the situation is very different in Kashmir, there are some parallels. In Kashmir, since the 1990s, most major Indian media houses have hired local journalists to write for them. Before that, Delhi-based correspondents would be sent if there was a major development, the typical “parachute” journalists.

Today, despite the difficulties Kashmiri journalists face every day, we get to read about developments directly from people based in the region. Not so in the northeast. Although newspapers have correspondents in Guwahati, they do not travel in the region as they did in the past. Nor do they have a network of reporters in other states who could send stories. The poor coverage of Oting is only one of several examples of such neglect.

To get a fuller picture not just of events, but also of what people think and of the background, there is no option but to read the local papers online. Nagaland Post, for instance, carried a strong editorial on December 5 headlined “Black December”. Another local paper, Nagaland Page, carried the full text of a report prepared by the citizens of Oting on the incident. It is full of anguish and anger, and states that no groups or parties, or members of the armed forces will be permitted to enter Oting indefinitely. “For we are warriors by blood and origin, and no force can intimidate us.”

Also, despite being heavily dependent on government advertising, these papers still report about such atrocities and other human rights violations involving the armed forces or the government.

Unfortunately in Kashmir, since August 5, 2019, the local press has been bludgeoned into submission through a combination of intimidation and cutting off the only dependable stream of revenue, government advertising. This is something I plan to visit in another column.

The reports on Oting so far are only the beginning of the real story. There is much more to unearth, not just about the incident, but about the history of the fragile peace in Nagaland and the real costs of trying to impose a resolution to the decades long conflict through the use of force and the AFSPA.

In Naga villages, sustainable farming is being undermined by need to earn cash for medicine, schools

Scroll.in  June 23, 2016


(Women in Leshemi village spinning yarn from nettle: Kalpana Sharma)


When you look down from the main road, the imposing Baptist church in Leshemi village, in Nagaland's Phek district, looks like a wedding cake.

But Leshemi's claim to fame is more than an impressive church. Leshemi is located on the hill opposite Khezakeno village, a place that the Nagas believe is the original village settled by them. From it, they believe, Nagas went off in different directions. The three main Naga tribes, Angami, Chakhesang and Sema, trace their origins to this settlement.

Leshemi is a small Chakhesang village, perched on a hillside with thick forests above and terraced rice fields below. What makes it unusual is that it is virtually a "village republic", a concept Mahatma Gandhi articulated. Its 800 or so inhabitants want little from the outside world, as the women tell you.

"Do you lack anything in your village?" I asked 65-year old Solhouii, part of a group of women who had just demonstrated how they spin yarn from stalks of stinging nettles found in the forest.

She thought for a while, then laughed and said: "No."

Though they do need a few things from outside, Solhouii said that they grow their own rice, millet, vegetables and fruit. They even make salt from brine found in a natural spring. There is plenty of water. They spin their own yarn from nettles and homegrown cotton. And they weave this into shawls and wraps, following the traditional patterns of their tribe.

Unhealed wounds

Like neighbouring Khezakeno, people in Leshemi also believe that they live in one of the oldest villages in Nagaland. As proof they show you what they call their fetish stones (which, they believe, contain spirits and special powers), which were found by their elders. These stones are now being carbon dated to establish their real age.

A stone shrine of sorts has been built around one of the original fetish stones.
Two elderly men, who are hovering around the little structure, tell me that the stone "died" when the Indian army burnt Leshemi village in 1957.

That statement, said sotto voce, is a wrenching reminder of what ordinary people in Nagaland went through from late 1950s till the ceasefire in 1964, during what they call the Indo-Naga war. This was fought between the Nagas, who believed they were independent and not part of the Indian Union, and the Indian government and its army that saw them as insurgents to be forcibly brought into the Indian fold.

I asked these two men if they remember that time. Yes, they do, they told me. For an entire year, the villagers had to hide in the forests. Those who went to the higher reaches survived despite hunger. Those who went to the valley died of disease or could not tolerate the heat and humidity.

The village that stands today was rebuilt after that.

The women and men in Leshemi do not bring politics into the conversation. But you cannot escape the past, the sadness that hangs over such villages, and the memories that live on.

A monolith at the entrance of Khonoma village in Nagaland. [Credit: Kalpana Sharma]

The old and the new

Just as the smiles, the jokes and the laughter hide deeper wounds, so does the talk of self-sufficiency.

For the reality in Leshemi, as in other villages in Nagaland, is that changes in the name of modernisation and development are undercutting the self-sufficient nature of their traditional societies.

A group of women farmers (and the majority of farmers are women) explained why today, what they grow is not enough to meet their needs.

A group of Chakhesang women in Chizami village, east of Leshemi village, spoke of the dilemma they face. We need cash, said one, to pay for school fees and medical expenses.
What they grow is enough to feed the family and sometimes there is a surplus that can be sold in the market. But the earnings from this cannot cover these other expenses necessitated by the introduction of education (Nagaland's literacy rate is now 80%) and modern medicine (in the past people relied on local cures).

As a result, the women look for work in the fields of others, where they get paid Rs 300 per day. The men find work as construction workers in the road repair projects that are perennially underway (despite which the roads are in a terrible state), and under the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act. Boards in all these villages announce improved village roads, or structures like community centres, that have been built courtesy MGNREGA.

Money power

This need for money is one factor that could, in the long run, undercut the sustainable forms of agriculture that continue to survive in many parts of Nagaland and elsewhere in the North East.

For instance, in villages like Leshemi and Chizami, no chemicals are used in the paddy fields. Villagers save seeds for the next planting. And their diet consists of locally grown rice and millet, vegetables, greens and meat, including birds and animals they hunt in their forests. But the need for money leaves them vulnerable to the incentives offered by the government's agriculture department to switch to faster growing hybrids. This also means using fertiliser and chemicals that they have never used before.

The traditional Naga form of agriculture has been organic before that term became fashionable. Their food, too, has the ideal balance that highly paid dieticians recommend to unhealthy city dwellers. But all this could change.

Besides the temptation of earning more, the future of traditional forms of agriculture also depends on the next generation. Will younger, educated Nagas go and till the land like their parents? Or will they only keep the link with their villages during festivals and occasions? This is already happening and is something that worries the women.

These women also know that not everyone wants to do the backbreaking work that is so much a part of their lives. They literally work from morning till dusk.

I asked a woman farmer from Chizami village to describe her typical day: "We wake up at 4 am, light the fire, make tea, cook, prepare children for school, eat something and then go to the field by 8 am. We take a break at 12 and then continue working till 5. On the way home, we collect fodder, then cook, then feed the livestock. We rarely get to sleep before 9 pm."

How many young women and men today will want to follow such a schedule?

Resources threatened

However, the biggest threat to the sustainable existence of such villages in Nagaland and elsewhere in the North East is the policy the Indian government has framed for this region. Essentially, it envisages ways in which the area's forests, rivers, land and minerals can be fully exploited.

Activists say local people do not fully understand the environmental and social consequences of some of the proposed projects. For instance, In Nagaland, new roads and highways are being built cutting through pristine forests. People have consented without realising that easier access to these forests could also spell the end of precious biodiversity. However, in Arunachal Pradesh local communities are asking questions and opposing the many hydroelectric projects being constructed in the state.

"It is scary,” said Akole Tsuhah, a young activist working with the North East Network, a women's rights organisation. “Our people are not prepared for this. Because of the need for cash, it is difficult to convince people about the need to safeguard our resources. Once we lose our common resources, we will lose our independence, our sovereignty."

(To read the rest of the article, click HERE) 

Also here's the link to another article on Nagaland, women and politics that was published in Scroll.in on June1, 2016 under the headline:

In politics and property ownership, there’s no space for Nagaland's women

https://scroll.in/article/808787/in-politics-and-property-ownership-theres-no-space-for-nagalands-women