In an era where digital connectivity is crucial, its denial in Manipur—a state scarred by ethnic violence—has become a tool of systemic control, silencing marginalized communities under the guise of law and order. On November 16, the Manipur government shut down mobile and broadband internet services in seven districts, including Churachandpur, for two days to prevent the spread of content that could disrupt law and order. The suspension was extended twice (on November 18 and 20) before broadband services were partially restored on November 21. And on November 23, it was extended for another two days in nine Districts.
Mobile Internet, however, remains suspended for two more days, disproportionately affecting the Kuki, Zomi and Hmar communities. While the government, by partially restoring broadband, claims to be providing relief to “common people,” this restoration is still yet to be provided in the only two internet-banned hill districts – Lamka (Churachandpur) and Kangpokpi.
This again raises critical questions: Are they not part of the “common people” and entitled to equal rights? The recurring imposition of internet shutdowns reveals a systemic pattern of suppression, silencing already vulnerable voices in the name of governance.
Digital Exclusion as Marginalization
The Internet is a utility and a vital space for free speech, information access, and connection. While it can be misused to incite violence, such risks are often overstated to justify shutdowns.
It should, however, be understood that the Internet space gives marginalized communities a platform to express their concerns, rally support, and challenge systemic inequities; otherwise, it is not possible due to those very systemic inequities put in place. However, when the state cuts off internet access, it silences these voices, perpetuating systemic exclusion and widening the gap between the state and the people it has pushed to its margins.
This troubling dynamic is highlighted by Manipur’s blanket suspension of internet services. On November 16, 2024, the state government suspended internet connections in response to violent protests in Imphal, where several ministers’ houses were attacked and burned, as well as the previous escalation of conflicts in Jiribam. While intended for violence-prone valley districts, the shutdown also extended to the hill districts of Lamka (Churachandpur) and Kangpokpi, areas far from the unrest.
LM Khaute, MLA of Churachandpur, a retired IPS officer and former DGP of Manipur, appealed to the Chief Secretary to lift the ban, citing its disproportionate impact on students, businesses, and the general public. Yet, the suspension persisted and was extended repeatedly, ignoring the legitimate concerns of an elected representative and his constituents. LM Khaute’s unheeded appeal to lift the ban demonstrates a troubling erosion of democratic accountability. If the voices of elected representatives are ignored, what recourse remains for ordinary citizens caught in this web of exclusion?
The obvious observation is that the two affected hill districts are dominated by the Kuki, Zomi and Hmar communities, the state government’s convenient antagonists and scapegoats. These hill districts, already on the outskirts of the state’s sociopolitical landscape, were further made to suffer the same consequences for disturbances far away from the violent regions. This pattern of internet shutdowns is not new. Earlier this year, the Manipur government suspended internet service in the Lamka (Churachandpur) district beginning on February 16, citing law and order concerns. Despite Churachandpur’s relative calm and distance from the epicentre of the unrest even at that time, the internet ban was repeatedly extended, disrupting the lives of residents who were already dealing with systemic neglect.
The state’s justification frequently revolves around preventing the spread of misinformation and upholding law and order over relatively peaceful, specifically chosen districts. Furthermore, the selective lifting of broadband restrictions for “common people” in some districts begs another question: are the Kuki, Zomi and Hmar communities not included in this collective? This selective exclusion emphasizes the marginalization of these communities, framing the Internet as a privilege rather than a right and widening the sociopolitical divide between the state and the communities it has ‘pushed towards its periphery’ quite literally and metaphorically, out of its social fabric.
These shutdowns emphasize a deeply troubling reality: silencing voices on the margins to control the narrative. The Internet is more than a tool; it is a lifeline, connecting people to opportunities, education, and one another. For communities in the affected hill districts already on the margins, cutting off this connection is more than just an inconvenience; it is a significant act of exclusion. It denies them the opportunity to be heard, to speak their truths, and to confront the forces that marginalize them. Instead of fostering unity and understanding, these shutdowns further isolate them, reinforcing the barriers that keep them on the outside looking in.
The Weaponization of Fear and Silence
In Manipur, internet shutdowns suppress dissent and reinforce systemic marginalization, especially for the Zomi, Kuki, and Hmar communities, who face retaliation instead of dialogue. Personal threats, legal intimidation, and even attacks on media outlets that amplify their voices are not isolated incidents but rather part of a larger strategy to silence them. These shutdowns suppress dissent and erode trust within and among communities, fraying social cohesion at a time when dialogue is most needed to navigate conflict and rebuild trust in institutions.
This is not the arbitrary exercise of state power but rather a deliberate act of exclusion intended to keep an entire community trapped within the confines of their marginalization. Their dreams of justice, of being seen and heard, remain elusive as long as they lack control over even the most basic means of expression. The right to internet access, ostensibly protected by the Constitution as a subset of the right to free speech and information, is taken away from them without recourse.
Rather than addressing the grievances that fuel their demands – which stem from decades of neglect, violence, and alienation, the state chooses to cut them off from the rest of the world. This is more than denying a fundamental right; it is a deliberate act of erasure, delegitimizing their cause by preventing it from being articulated. The state silences the Zomi, Kuki and Hmar, suppressing resistance and confining them to an ever-shrinking space of invisibility, rendering their struggles voiceless and their existence expendable.
The ultimate goal is clear: to break their spirit, eradicate their demands for justice and struggle, and keep them trapped in a state of forced subjugation, unable to challenge to challenge their oppression. This strategy may attempt to maintain order, but its true goal is to widen the gap between the rulers and the ruled, leaving the margins powerless and silent.
The Economic and Human Cost
Internet blackouts in 2023 cost India $585.4 million and affected 59.1 million people, according to a Top10VPN report. Among these, the longest blackout—lasting from May to December—occurred in Manipur amid ethnic clashes and violence, providing an unsettling illustration of the socioeconomic consequences of such disruptions.
For communities in Manipur, which are already struggling economically, being unable to access online markets, banking services, or educational resources exacerbates existing inequities. According to Len Doungel (name changed), a youth from Lamka, ‘Internet shutdowns have forced me to uproot my life multiple times.’ As a development professional, he relies on connectivity to coordinate projects and access resources. ‘For us, the Internet is a lifeline, not a luxury.
His experience reflects how internet access, a critical tool for economic participation and growth, becomes another barrier, perpetuating cycles of poverty and dependency. It demonstrates how economic stagnation and forced migration directly result from the state’s failure to provide stable and equitable governance. Such shutdowns violate fundamental rights, such as the right to peaceful protest and access to the press. The severity of its human cost is manifested in its denial of people’s ability to seek critical information, confirm their safety, or contact loved ones during times of crisis. On top of that, such targeted shutdowns reinforce the idea that the state is biased and communal, further breaking down public trust in state institutions.
A Critique of State-Centric Solutions
The state’s reliance on internet shutdowns as a blanket solution to unrest exposes a deeper systemic failure to address the root causes of conflict in Manipur. These shutdowns are temporary fixes, ignoring structural grievances like land rights and political representation, leaving a fractured society. This approach emphasized the state’s governance model, prioritizing manipulation over the manner of engagement and silencing of voices instead of promoting dialogue.
For the Zomi, Kuki and Hmar communities, this translates into an entrenched cycle of exclusion and erasure. Their struggle for recognition and justice is not merely a consequence of conflict but increasingly more so as the intended outcome of policies that place a false sense of state security above community welfare. The inability to voice their grievances, coupled with the systematic denial of basic rights like internet access, amplifies their sense of isolation and disempowerment.
The Meitei community, too, has borne the brunt of these shutdowns. For many Meiteis, the prolonged turmoil has meant years of economic and social stagnation, with grievances over identity and political aspirations festering unresolved. Internet shutdowns do nothing to address these long-standing issues; instead, they create additional barriers, denying ordinary citizens—regardless of ethnicity—the ability to connect, communicate, and access critical resources during a crisis.
This is not just a problem for one group or another; it is a shared failure of governance that affects all communities in Manipur. Even their elected representatives, meant to be their voice in a democratic system, find themselves marginalized. When leaders struggle to be heard amidst the noise of state-driven narratives, how can ordinary citizens expect their grievances to find a platform? Ultimately, the persistent reliance on internet shutdowns reveals a state that is unwilling to confront its accountability to the people it governs, leaving the communities of Manipur—Kuki-Zomi-Hmar, Meitei, and others alike—caught in a cycle of marginalization and silence.
Manipur’s internet shutdowns reflect the conflict between centralized power and marginalized voices, deepening divisions under the guise of order. These shutdowns are more than just a denial of connectivity; they are also a denial of agency, silencing entire communities at a time when their voices are most needed.
Bridging the digital divide requires more than restoring internet access; it demands transformative governance that prioritizes dialogue, transparency, and inclusion, addressing the grievances of all communities.
Actual progress lies not in suppressing dissent but in cultivating understanding and empowering those on the margin. Only by dismantling marginalization and exclusion structures can Manipur and India progress towards a more just and equitable society in which the Internet is a shared lifeline for growth, connection, and solidarity rather than a privilege.
Addressing this requires inclusive policymaking that restores connectivity and ensures that internet access is considered a right rather than a privilege. Community-specific digital access initiatives and grievance redressal platforms can help to repair the damage caused by years of exclusion.
Also Read: Satellite-tagged Amur Falcon reaches Somalia-Kenya border from Manipur