Yesterday, Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand has publicly acknowledged that Kuki organisations have been coming to Imphal, meeting him and holding discussions. He also stated that Kuki residents have started travelling to Imphal to board flights, describing these developments as signs that normalcy has begun to return after more than three years of ethnic conflict in Manipur. 

These developments raise an obvious question about the loud claims, dramatic warnings and sustained propaganda that once presented engagement with Imphal as impossible. When confrontation failed to deliver the political results promised to the people, the strategy appears to have shifted from public defiance to quiet accommodation. 

The issue is not that Kuki representatives met the Chief Minister. Dialogue, in principle, is necessary. The real issue is the pretence that such engagement did not take place. In politics, denial may delay embarrassment, but it cannot permanently bury facts. 

The clarification issued by Kuki Inpi Manipur on June 18, 2026, therefore deserves careful examination. According to reports, KIM claimed that it had no knowledge of any meeting between its representatives and Chief Minister Y. Khemchand. It also maintained that any engagement with the government must follow due process, including prior consultation with its Executive Committee and the consent of the people. The organisation reportedly warned of action against any member who participated without authorisation. This was presented as a clarification. In substance, it looked more like an attempt to contain political embarrassment.

A clarification normally settles confusion. This one created more questions. If no authorised meeting took place, KIM should have placed before the public a clear account of who was falsely using its name, how the confusion arose, and what corrective action would follow. If a meeting did take place involving individuals connected with KIM or other Kuki organisations, then the denial becomes even more damaging. It suggests either that the organisation was bypassed by its own members or that it was unwilling to acknowledge a politically inconvenient engagement.

Both possibilities are serious. An organisation that claims to be an apex body cannot appear unsure about who speaks in its name. It cannot demand public consent while allowing private initiative to define political engagement. It cannot speak of discipline only after reports of a meeting have already entered the public domain. In public life, authority is not established by titles. It is established by control, transparency and consistency.

This controversy is not merely about one meeting. It is about the credibility of representation. KIM has long presented itself as a principal voice of the Kuki people in Manipur. Such a claim carries responsibility. If an organisation speaks in the name of a people, it must also answer to them. It must be able to explain who authorised a political engagement, what agenda was discussed, what mandate was carried, and what outcome was reported back to the public.

The June 18 clarification avoided these substantive questions. Instead, it invoked due process and people’s consent after the controversy had already emerged. That is not good enough. Consent cannot be used as a decorative phrase in a press statement. It must be a visible process. If the people’s consent is truly central, then the people must know when talks are being held, who is attending them, and what is being discussed in their name.

The contradiction becomes sharper when placed against the Chief Minister’s own statement. Khemchand did not merely speak in abstract terms about peace. He said many groups had met him to discuss peace and that Kuki residents had begun using Imphal for air travel. This public admission weakens the claim that engagement with Imphal is politically impossible or socially forbidden. It also exposes the distance between public rhetoric and practical behaviour.

For months, sections of public discourse were built around total separation, absolute rejection and the impossibility of normal contact. Imphal was portrayed as inaccessible. Engagement with the state government was framed as betrayal. The airport, the capital city and the institutions of the state were presented as if they belonged permanently outside the reach of Kuki citizens. Now the facts tell a different story. People are travelling. Groups are meeting. Conversations are taking place.

This is not a bad development. In fact, it may be one of the few hopeful signs in Manipur’s grim public life. The problem lies in the refusal to speak honestly about it. If Kuki organisations are meeting the Chief Minister, let them say so. If they are discussing peace, let them explain the terms. If they are seeking security guarantees for travel, medical treatment and movement, let that be placed before the public. There is no shame in dialogue. The shame lies in pretending that dialogue is not happening.

Manipur has suffered enough from double language. Public speeches take one position, private meetings take another. Communities are told to remain firm, suspicious and mobilised, while leaders quietly explore accommodation. This pattern is not limited to any one group. It is a wider disease of conflict politics. But in the present case, KIM’s denial has brought the problem into the open.

The politics of denial also damages the possibility of peace. Peace cannot grow in secrecy alone. Certain preliminary contacts may require discretion, especially in a sensitive conflict. But discretion is not the same as deception. A responsible leadership can say that exploratory talks are taking place without disclosing every operational detail. It can prepare the public for dialogue rather than trap itself in rhetoric that later becomes impossible to defend.

The demand for separate administration has already divided Manipur’s political debate. For its supporters, it is presented as a necessary arrangement for security and dignity after the violence that began in 2023. For its opponents, it is seen as a threat to the territorial and constitutional integrity of Manipur. Between these positions lies a large zone of public anxiety, mistrust and negotiation. Any organisation operating in this zone must be careful with truth. Once people begin to believe that leaders say one thing and do another, the moral strength of the movement weakens.

This is why the reported meeting with the Chief Minister matters. The meeting itself is not the scandal. A political society in crisis must talk. Communities that have stopped talking only deepen their wounds. The scandal is the denial, the confusion and the attempt to discipline the appearance of engagement while engagement itself appears to continue in practice.

There is also a democratic issue involved. Civil society organisations are influential in Manipur, but they are not elected governments. They do not possess constitutional authority in the manner of legislators or ministers. Their strength comes from public trust. Once that trust is weakened, their claim to represent the people becomes fragile. When such organisations enter political negotiations, they must therefore follow a higher standard of transparency, not a lower one.

The involvement of elected representatives in such conversations makes the matter more complicated. Legislators have a constitutional role and a direct public mandate. Civil society bodies claim community legitimacy. When the two operate together without clear disclosure, the public is left uncertain about who is negotiating, in what capacity and under whose authority. This uncertainty is dangerous in a conflict where rumours already move faster than verified facts.

KIM’s clarification also raises a question about internal discipline. If members or associated leaders acted without authorisation, why did the organisation not identify the procedural breach clearly? If the Executive Committee was bypassed, what steps are being taken to prevent a repeat? If the leadership genuinely had no knowledge, does that not reveal a serious breakdown of internal communication? An apex body cannot be both unaware and authoritative at the same time.

The language of “appropriate action” is not a substitute for accountability. Threatening internal action may satisfy hardline opinion for a moment, but it does not answer the public’s questions. The people are entitled to know whether their name is being used in negotiations. They are entitled to know whether the demand for public consent is genuine or selective. They are entitled to know whether leaders who publicly reject engagement are privately pursuing it.

The larger political lesson is simple. Movements that rely on propaganda eventually become prisoners of their own claims. When they tell people that dialogue is impossible, they cannot easily explain why they are later meeting the government. When they describe Imphal as permanently inaccessible, they cannot easily explain why people are using Imphal Airport. When they call every engagement a betrayal, they cannot easily defend their own engagement when circumstances change.

This is the danger of absolutist politics. It leaves no room for correction, compromise or honesty. A mature leadership prepares its people for difficult realities. It does not feed them slogans and then secretly adjust its position when pressure increases. In a conflict like Manipur’s, the people have already paid a heavy price. They deserve truth, not performance.

Chief Minister Khemchand’s approach also carries responsibility. If groups are meeting him to discuss peace, the process must not become a selective political exercise. It must be inclusive, structured and credible. Engagement cannot be reduced to private access to the Chief Minister’s office. It must be connected to a wider framework involving security, return of displaced persons, restoration of movement, accountability for violence and reconciliation between communities. Peace cannot be achieved through symbolic meetings alone.

At the same time, Kuki organisations must decide whether they want to remain trapped in the rhetoric of permanent confrontation or participate honestly in a difficult process of political resolution. They cannot have both without losing credibility. They cannot publicly reject engagement and privately seek it. They cannot demand people’s consent while concealing the very engagements for which consent is required.

The public must also distinguish between dialogue and surrender. Meeting the Chief Minister does not automatically mean abandoning political demands. Using Imphal Airport does not erase grievances. Travelling through Imphal does not settle the conflict. But these acts do show that total separation in daily life is neither practical nor permanent. Geography, administration, economy and human necessity continue to bind Manipur in ways that propaganda cannot fully erase.

This is precisely why honest politics is necessary. If coexistence remains unavoidable, leaders must speak responsibly. If dialogue is necessary, they must prepare their people for dialogue. If compromise is possible, they must not first poison the ground by declaring compromise impossible. The future of Manipur cannot be built on statements that collapse when tested by facts.

KIM’s denial has therefore exposed more than an internal embarrassment. It has exposed the limits of a politics that depends on public rigidity and private flexibility. It has shown that organisational claims of unity may conceal internal differences. It has shown that the language of people’s consent can become hollow when not matched by transparent practice. It has shown that truth, even when delayed, has a way of entering public life.

There is still a constructive path available. KIM can publish a clear account of its position on talks with the Chief Minister and the state government. It can state whether any representative was authorised to participate. It can explain how future engagements will be approved. It can create a formal consultation mechanism so that the people are not reduced to spectators in decisions made in their name. It can also acknowledge that dialogue, when conducted transparently, is not a weakness.

Such honesty would serve the public better than denial. It would also bring political maturity to a debate that has too often been dominated by suspicion, slogans and pressure from hardline voices. Manipur does not need more secrecy. It needs institutions that can speak plainly even when the truth is uncomfortable.

KIM’s problem today is not only the reported meeting. Its problem is credibility. Once credibility is damaged, every clarification becomes another question. Every denial invites scrutiny. Every threat of internal action sounds less like discipline and more like damage control.

Peace process cannot be built on such uncertainty. It requires courage from all sides. The courage to speak. The courage to listen. The courage to admit contact. The courage to explain compromise. Most of all, it requires the courage to tell people the truth.

Lies have short legs. Propaganda has an expiry date. The truth may be delayed by press statements, denials and controlled narratives, but it does not disappear. In this case, the truth has already begun to catch up.

The meeting itself is not the scandal. The scandal is the denial, the confusion and the attempt to discipline the appearance of engagement.