New Novel About Operation Bluebird 1987 In Manipur Talks Of Wounds Yet To Heal

https://www.adivasilivesmatter.com/post/new-novel-about-operation-bluebird-1987-in-manipur-talks-of-wounds-yet-to-heal 

My interview with Boniface G Kamei (Jul 20, 2022)

The novel brings focus to military excesses in Manipur

I grew up in Manipur during the 1990s, and if there is one word to describe the condition in which people lived, it has to be Kafkaesque- a world that is characteristically bizarre, oppressive and nightmarish. Manipur used to be a state plague by insurgency and although insurgency has been successfully subdued today, the Kafkaesque experiences refuse to leave one’s mind. Often we would be shaken up from our sleep in the morning because the military personnel wanted to check the house. And after school we would see another band of personnel walking up and down the streets with their face covered as if in anticipation of something to happen. We just did not know whom to fear—the state army or the insurgents. And often there would be outbreak of firings at night. For ordinary people the only option was to hide under the bed and pray that they survive the night.

On one of these nights, I being still a child, slept while my family prayed and an aunt struggled to control her bowel movement trigger by fear. Such was life for us even as the rest of world continued to live their ordinary lives like in an ordinary day. The violence from both sides was nightmarish for us common people. The Indian historian Ranajit Guha has captured the nuances of state conflict through his theory of counter insurgency in which the state machinery portrays armed militia as terrorists. Counter insurgency gives no agency to the people in the margin as the narrative is construed around the rationale that the state is justified in violent action against the “terrorists”.

One such military operation that flamed into an inferno was Operation Bluebird conducted by the Assam Rifles. The operation was conducted in Oinam Village and 30 other villages in Manipur in July 1987 and it lasted for three months. The memories of the operation continue to haunt and traumatize the people who survived it. Often, people have reenacted the scene to dramatize the incident in their quest for justice that is in a limbo. The latest recounting of this incident has been done in the form of a novel Waiting for the Dust to Settle by Veio Pou. Pou teaches English literature in the Department of English, Shaheed Bhagat Singh College, University of Delhi. In what follows is a conversation with the author of the novel.

Veio Pou teaches English literature at the University of Delhi

1) For most of the citizens that grew up in Manipur especially in 1980s and 1990s, there was always a cloud of uncertainty about life and governance. Can you elucidate on your experience growing up in a zone torn by insurgency and military rule?

Actually, I didn’t realize how life can be so different depending on where you grow up. I grasped this truth only when I moved away from my home state to pursue higher studies. The last two decades of the twentieth century in Manipur was marked by many upheavals where the common folks were often forced to live on the edge. The antagonism between the Indian armed forces and the Naga undergrounds was a key reason for this. But as you rightly pointed out, the state forces, empowered by AFSPA (Arms Forces Special Powers Act), would impose a sort ofmilitary rule, especially when they are on their counter-insurgency operations. I’ve seen situations where they would overrule the civil administrations and get away with human rights violations.To add to all the uncertainties, the state also saw the eruption of various conflicts between the ethnic groups and the wounds continue to fester even today.

2) National narrative and Bollywood movies have romanticized the military domain especially the state army and bunkers by showing them as protecting the innocent people from antinational groups. What is your opinion on that?

Well, it’s often easy to stereotype a region on some sensationalized images that the media circulates. Like few other regions, the Northeast of India has also suffered this syndrome. And it’s disheartening when Bollywood also end up making movies that don’t quite show the other realities. It’s not that the entire region is prone to violence and conflict; there are lots of peaceful places and states where violence is quite sporadic. For a highly militarized region like the Northeast, it’s often the case that roads along the borders are built only for army patrolling convoys and not for common people to use. Yet again, when the army help build such roads; they tend to project them as though they’ve done a great service to the people. On the contrary, what ordinary citizens need is a road to their villages and good paths to their paddy fields.

3) Operation Bluebird has not really captured the imagination of India like Operation Blue Star. The latter was even broadcast on television. And although the former has received little attention, people like Nandita Haskar and Sebastian M. Hongray have come up with the book The Judgement That Never Came. Why have you emplotted Operation Bluebird in your historical fiction, Waiting for the Dust to Settle?

I think the Operation Blue Star of 1984 attracted greater attention because it also led to the assassination of the Prime Minister of India, Indira Gandhi, and subsequently caused the anti-Sikh riot across many cities. It’s one of the most unfortunate events in modern India. The nation’s attention was drawn to it rightly because the action in the aftermath of the operation got transferred to the heart of the country. In contrast, the Operation Bluebird of 1987 occurred in a part of the country which was obscure to many Indians and the victims were largely ordinary citizens. Now-a-days people have become more aware of the happenings in the Northeast, but it wasn’t so in the eighties. Yet the impact of the Operation Bluebird continues to mar the memories of the people who are staring at justice being denied. I decided to write about it because incidents like that shape the community memory of the recent past. I also wrote with the hope that people would be aware that such incidents shouldn’t happen to anyone anywhere.

4) Has the dust storm, that your book title and cover suggest, really settled? Can people really see India in Manipur on a clear bright day?

The metaphor of the dust is applicable to many issues in the novel. Yes, one of the matters relate to the Operation Bluebird. But that incident is closely tied to the larger Naga movement for self-determination. Unfortunately, as it stands today, the movement seems to be in a stalemate, and the dusts have grown thicker that we can’t quite see that lies ahead. Your second question is quite interesting because a state like Manipur still seems too “peripheral” for most people from the “mainland” to be in their imagination. Perhaps, the dust still clouds the sky for a clear vision!

5) What is the politics of publishing houses when people send manuscripts on themes that are not friendly to the state’s narrative on nation building? And how are such texts received in the body of Indian literature in English?

Well, it takes courage for a publishing house to produce works which are counter-narrative to the state’s notion of nation building.I cannot speak for others, but my experience has been that many publishing houses are a bit wary of stories based in the Northeast because of various sensationalized political issues. But they would put it in nicer ways and say that they are not into publishing such themes and doubt marketability or something of that sort. But I think there has been a slow and good reception of literary works from the region, though I feel there is a need to get rid of the psychological gap and dismissive attitude among many intellectuals.

6) Many literary works from Northeast India revolve on the issue of insurgency. Likewise, Bollywood have also made movies on it. For instance Anek that was released recently. Do you think such Bollywood narrative like Anek has the anxiety to make Northeast more India that it has to bring in the theme of patriotism and national integration?

Just because there are literary works on insurgency, it doesn’t mean that the people are only talking about it. Undeniably, however, the political unrest for many decades has shaped the realities of the region. Though many parts of the region do not see active insurgency today, talking about it is also a way of dealing with the past and how to move on. It is just as how partition has shaped many present day narratives in the eastern and north-western parts of the country.

And yes, I think India has a larger anxiety of not being more homogenous in its identity construction. Though the nation’s motto declares the celebration of its diversity, in practice there is always an effort to project the idea of India which is quite foreign to many smaller people groups. This is played out quite ostensibly in the Northeast because of the troubled past following independence. I think there is a “conquered” sense of joy in many people’s mindset when they’re able to project the region with a tinge of patriotism, and Bollywood seems to have played into the game. But wanting to paint the region with a different colour or chant certain slogans or parrot another’s language is nothing more than colonialization.

7) What should be the future trajectory of Northeast literature and India’s approach to the Northeast?

There cannot be a one way road but a multi-dimensional approach to this. Of late, there have been recognitions of the contributions of literatures from the region to the larger gamut of Indian literature. Of course, we’ve a good repository of literature in Assamese, Bengali and Meitei (Manipuri) languages for a long time now. But the recent surge of interest in the writings from the Northeast is largely focused on English writings and translations into English. And they deserve attention. It’s good to note that many universities have incorporated works of many writers from the region into the syllabus and many research scholars have taken interest in the area. This is a positive way forward. And literature can be a good medium to understand the culture and history of the people written about. I’ve come across lots of people taking interest in understanding about the region after reading literary works. I think that’s where the power of literature lies. The key to understand each other better, especially for a vast and diverse country like India, is to read more about each other’s culture and history. The ignorance of many Indians about the Northeast is also because they have read too little about the region in school. I’ve seen that most students from the Northeast are much more informed about the rest of the country than vice versa. There is a fault line in our education system that needs to be addressed. I remember, some years back the Governor of Arunachal Pradesh, B.B. Acharya, made a biting comment that the people of India know more about America than the Northeast. Perhaps, a truth lies there. It needs redressal, not dismission.

About the author: Boniface G Kamei belongs to the Rongmei Naga tribe of Manipur, India. He is currently a research scholar at the University of Hyderabad.

Writing my first novel

My debut novel, Waiting for the Dust to Settle, was finally released virtually on the 6th of November 2020. At the launch I (non)seriously mentioned that the "wait" for the book's arrival was like a painful birth! It was such a relief because the wait was long. Many times, I wondered if it was "coming or never coming"! It took many years (yes, 'many years') "waiting" on the book to see the light of day! In the end, however, I must say it was all worth the wait... For the record, I'm thankful to Speaking Tiger Books for publishing it. I write this to share my experience, hoping that it would find resonance with many who are waiting for their big moment...

But first, let me say a few words about the book release. I would have loved a physical launch – sign copies for friends and interact, but it was not to be. Given the times we were living through it was unthinkable. Nevertheless, the online launch was altogether a new experience and rewarding too, in a different way. And thanks to technology, it was good to see that many outstation family and friends could join, which otherwise wouldn't have been quite possible. Above and beyond the impressive remarks from a few (publisher, literary agent and others), I think, the line "Bless my homeland forever" from the song "Edelweiss" (a soundtrack from the movie "Sound of Music") sung by my daughter Debbie captivated many that day. It was interesting how listeners chose that particular line (as it rhymed in the chat box) and added a sort of nationalistic/sub-nationalistic flavour, in tune with an important theme from the book.

The rugged road to being noticed

Let me start by saying the book was not a "lockdown project". Many people assumed it was because it appeared during the pandemic. On the contrary, the pandemic even delayed its arrival by at least half a year! What many don’t know is that publishing in India is not easy. Harder still if you’re a debutant. Only writers or aspiring writers would understand this. Obviously, publishers wouldn't want to take a chance on you, after all, it's business for them! What is the guarantee that it will sell well? Besides other risks, the stake is quite high for publishers. I bet I would also be playing the same role, if I were in their shoes.

Of course, there is the option of self-publishing. And many are taking that route. The sprouting of self-publishing services tell a lot about this growing business. With a growing population of English speakers, the country offers a lot of people who think they can be good writers. I can imagine publishing houses piled up with unread manuscripts and their mail boxes spammed with proposals! And in most cases, there will be just silence, not even a courteous ‘no’. The wait can be deadening... I’ve been there!

One thing is for sure – it takes a lot of patience. And along the way, it is important to have people who believe in you! I was fortunate to have a few who constantly offered encouragement, otherwise, I would have given up midway. Believe it or not, I wrote the skeletal of the novel one summer vacation about seven years back (yes, seven!), and kept adding flesh to it for the next few years. Then I thought it was ready to be launched to life. So I started my “novel journey” by sending to publishing houses. But after half a dozen of rejections, I thought it would never make it. In fact, I kept it buried for a couple of years! However, a few persistent ones forced me to resurrect it. I owe a lot to them!

So, there it is – I finally got published! For me, in the end, getting published by a reputed name means that you are guaranteed of a strong media/publicity team. Unexpected or pleasantly surprising reviews from different corners tell me of the wide reach and influence of the team. Honestly, I’m honoured to be reviewed, even though some were not quite of a good taste in its entirety! Nevertheless, I take it as a learning experience and something I could keep in mind for my next novel, if ever I happen to stumble upon an idea! All in all, the reviews have been enriching, offering fresh insights to the novel. 

Who are my readers?

One of the most interesting reception of my novel was the children’s readership. When I started writing, I must admit that I didn’t quite have children as my readers in mind. On the contrary, I was writing on some serious themes which would suit the serious mind, or so I thought. Did the kids pick it up because it started with a ten year old Rakovei? Or were they appealed by the conflict situation mentioned in the blurb? It was my ten year old daughter who was one of the first to read it at home! Then I began to hear from various families too that the kids were the ones to read it ahead of the adults at home. I wondered how they were able to process all those stories of pain and anguish which, of course, were narrated alongside the beauty and innocence of country life.

In this experience, I also began to understand that often it is the adults who often define what should be children’s story and which shouldn’t be. I’ve taught theories of children’s literature to students of literature, but until this time I didn’t realise (in practice) that the child is often not consulted what her taste is or what would be suitable to her. Of course, I’m not saying that adults aren’t capable of making sensible choices for children. But children’s mind can process much more complicated stuffs than we think. They’re certainly much more imaginative and their young minds can certainly process subjects that might be challenging to the adult minds!

But this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t have an audience in mind. What I stressed on was that there could be surprising reception, even from unthought of locations. In fact, I’m happy to hear feedbacks from various corners on some important issues that I had hoped to raise through the novel. And the reviews testify to this.

Why I write

Everyone has stories to tell. And I also wanted to play my own part – telling stories of what I’ve heard, seen and felt. And stories that I didn’t want to be silenced or vanish into the past. Some are beautiful and of unforgettable experiences; some are heart wrenching and violent. Nevertheless they all form a part of history that I thought shouldn’t be forgotten. I wanted to tell of growing up in a small town whose innocence has dissolved by the fast paced changes of modern life. And of the travellers’ road strewn with due drops on the blades of tall grasses in the woods as people walk to their villages. My stories are of the recent past, just few decades old, but with the winds of change blowing as fierce as hurricane, they are slowly disappearing without a trace. Worse still, they are being forgotten. I tried to tell a bit of this in my piece in The Hindu.

Let me end with a thought on the title. Most readers would be able to read into the word “waiting” and connect the many stories in the novel. The wait for a solution to the protracted Indo-Naga conflict comes as a major point, but there are several others that awaits peace – people as well as the land. My only prayer is that it will not be an endless wait. And to those who hear, I hope it helps you see things at a micro level.

The Peace Seekers

 

The Hindu, Sunday Magazine, January 24, 2021

I grew up in the small town of Senapati in north Manipur. This was in the 1980s. The busy shops on a 200-yard stretch parallel to National Highway 39 (now renamed NH 2) were all that marked it as a town. But Senapati was abuzz, and was even made district headquarters in 1983.

Change was fast-paced then. Looking back, life was like flipping through the pages of one of the magazines my uncle subscribed to. As they came from some faraway city, the news was quite stale by the time it reached us. But he would nevertheless enjoy reading the magazines. The enigma of Uganda’s Idi Amin and the notoriety of Cambodia’s Pol Pot fascinated the media, even though their stories were from the previous decade. I still recall the cover of one mag that had Pakistan’s General Zia-ul-Haq with a forced smile à la Mona Lisa! One day, all the sensational international news was suddenly overshadowed by the assassination of Indira Gandhi. I scanned the pages for news on the Delhi riots. But such stories still seemed very distant to me — after all, the Centre was very far away.

Closer to home, harsher realities were beginning to unsettle the normality of life. The long shadow of the conflict between the Naga underground forces and the Indian armed forces kept common people on the edge. A shadow that continues to haunt us today, as we still wait for that elusive peace to arrive.

In this chequered pattern of unease and calm that we lived through, a sudden twist would sometimes shake it all up. One such deeply troubling occurrence that I encountered at close quarters was the Oinam incident, or the infamous Operation Bluebird.

Fear of the Army

Launched by the Assam Rifles as a counter-insurgency operation to recover the arms and ammunition they had lost when the Naga Socialist Council of Nagaland (NSCN) raided their Oinam Hill camp on July 9, 1987, Operation Bluebird took an ugly turn when civilians came into the firing line. For the next three months, some 30 villages close to Oinam Hill village were cordoned off for a combing operation. Even the district administration and political representatives were barred from reaching the people. Churches and community halls became makeshift interrogation camps. Men were questioned and torture was alleged, as were rape and molestation. The fear was such that crying children would be hushed with just the word ‘soldiers’. Indeed, even today, just uttering the words ‘soldiers are coming’ is enough to quieten a child.

The events of the 80s and 90s made me seriously question the impunity that is allowed to the armed forces, especially by the Armed Forces Special Powers Act of 1958. AFSPA gives them the licence to arrest without warrants, and deaths and injuries don’t have to be explained; they are able to exercise brute force. The irony is that they were there to provide the people ‘security’, but that was the last thing we experienced. Their patrols and speeding convoys leaving behind giant dust trails only further distorted the discomforting realities of my home town. I’ve tried to capture those years in my debut novel, Waiting for the Dust to Settle (Speaking Tiger, 2020).

AFSPA’s shadow was darkest in the early years of the insurgency. In the 1960s, when socialist leader Jayaprakash Narayan, along with British missionary Michael Scott, helped broker the first peace deal, JP referred to the government’s handling of the Naga problem as ‘India’s Vietnam’. He was referring to the ruthlessness and widespread violation of human rights perpetrated on the Naga people. The horrifying scenes of entire villages burnt down, the humiliation of people running for cover in their own land, the pain of living in the jungles during the torrential rains, the trauma of seeing loved ones dying before one’s eyes — these have largely gone undocumented. But these experiences live on in the memories of the people. It is no wonder that these generations are affected with post-traumatic stress disorder.

The enemy within

Unfortunately, the Naga struggle took an ugly turn when the people found themselves up against each other. The ideological differences that had cropped up along the way led to factionalism among the nationalist underground groups. And, once again, the common people bore the brunt. This time in the form of factional fights that brought more bloodshed and trauma. While the early years saw the enemy as an outside force, midway through the movement, the enemy within grew terrifyingly large.

Today, this protracted conflict has not only become an impediment to progress in the region, it has extracted a huge human cost. While the Centre is pushing the government’s agenda in the Northeast, including its much-hyped ‘Look East Policy’ and its sequel ‘Act East Policy’, without political peace the economic packages will remain merely a gimmick to enrich the rising gangs of corrupt politicians and bureaucrats. And one of the biggest obstacles to arriving at a political solution is the continuing enforcement of AFSPA. As long as a sense of political injustice pervades the psyche of the people, comfort and peace will remain distant dreams.

I would like to believe that it is in this light that the government has taken initiatives to bring about an ‘honourable solution’. In 2015, when the Framework Agreement was signed with the NSCN, it heightened expectations of a possible end to the Naga problem. The media flashed photographs of Prime Minister Modi and Thuingaleng Muivah, the NSCN leader, both smiling after signing what was called a ‘historic peace deal’. The government issued a press release saying it hoped to “end the oldest insurgency in the country”. The government’s keenness to arrive at a solution was driven by the understanding that peace in the Northeast is not quite imaginable without the NSCN on board. The 2015 accord was seen as a culmination of the ceasefire agreement brokered in 1997.

But it’s been five years now, and peace is as elusive as ever. In fact, the 2015 agreement is on the verge of breaking down, with the negotiating parties again at loggerheads. After several missed deadlines, we now await yet another. And again, the question looming in the minds of many is this: will the agreement really end one of South Asia’s longest armed struggles? Or will it turn out to be just another agreement that fails the test of time? After all, over the past several decades, many such accords have been signed and have since bitten the dust.

Final solution

When things come to a standstill like this, I feel sorry most of all for the older generations, the ones who have waited so long for a lasting resolution. I belong to the third generation. I too wait for an ‘honourable solution’. Far too many lives have been lost, too much blood shed. How much longer must we wait?

There is a persistent yearning for peace among Nagas. Civil organisations and the church are actively involved in bringing rapport among the various Naga groups. But the wounds run deep and healing will take time. The emergence of the Forum for Naga Reconciliation and its call for forgiveness and unity among all Naga factions under the banner ‘A Journey of Common Hope’ is one positive sign. Another is the Naga Mothers’ Association, whose campaign ‘Shed No More Blood’ is also brokering peace among Nagas. Such movements are the real ‘peacemakers’.

I want to see harmony again in the land I grew up in. The people and the place, both need healing. The small town of Senapati has transformed in geography and population. The old photographs are unrecognisable today. I feel like a stranger every time I visit. Even the old highway has been buried to make way for an elevated road. The old rickety metal bridge across the Barak river no longer exists.

Does this modernity mean peace? A closer look tells me that the expansion of the town has happened because of the displacement of thousands of people from the various ethnic conflicts that flared up in the 1990s and at the turn of the millennium. These people certainly seek an end to the bitter past. I join them in their quest. And in their hope that peace will not forever elude us.