In a region where politics once carried the weight of historical destiny, NPF–NDPP mergers remind us that the real game has been irretrievably lost—not in the assembly, but in the imagination. And the rooster chirps instead of crowing.
By James Bornat Makhel
The recent merger between the Naga People’s Front (NPF) and the Nationalist Democratic Progressive Party (NDPP) has been described in many quarters as a political game changer in Nagaland. To the casual observer, it may appear as the unification of two major regional forces — a consolidation of strength and purpose. Yet, a closer look reveals not transformation, but exhaustion; not vision, but survival. This merger is less a moment of renewal than a symptom of the slow decay of regional politics in the state of Nagaland.
History of Familiar Rearrangements
Nagaland’s political history is rich with mergers that promised change but only recycled the same networks of tribal elites. From the NNO–UPP alignments of the 1970s to the multiple mutations that produced the NPF in the 1990s, such “unity” has always been about rearranging power, not redistributing it. The NDPP itself was born out of disillusionment with the NPF just eight years ago, proclaiming to bring “a new era of governance.” By merging back into the very party it once left behind, the NDPP effectively admits that its founding vision has collapsed.
This merger does not signal a shift in ideology or leadership culture; it is a return to familiarity, a recycling of political fatigue dressed up as reconciliation. It reflects a fear of fragmentation, not a confidence in reform.
Death of an Idea
For decades, the NPF sustained itself on the belief that it represented the political voice of the Nagas across state boundaries — a symbol of unity within the Indian federal system. It offered a platform that transcended Nagaland’s borders, resonating among Nagas in Manipur, Arunachal Pradesh, and Assam. The NDPP, by contrast, was unapologetically Nagaland-centric and pragmatic, aligning closely with the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the NDA framework.
By merging with the NDPP, the NPF has lost its moral capital as the pan-Naga political voice. It has surrendered its unique regional identity for the comfort of being a junior partner in a state-level power equation. What once stood for political imagination has been reduced to administrative convenience. The “game changer” narrative thus falls apart: it is the funeral of ideological distinction, not its birth.
Irrelevance Beyond Nagaland
Supporters of the merger may argue that it will strengthen regional consolidation and bargaining power with Delhi. But such optimism ignores the fact that politics today extends far beyond state boundaries. In the Naga-inhabited districts of Manipur and Arunachal Pradesh, where the NPF had once built symbolic footholds, this merger translates to political extinction.
In Manipur’s hill districts — Senapati, Ukhrul, Tamenglong, and Chandel — the NPF was respected precisely because it was seen as distinct from Manipur’s Meitei-led mainstream politics and Delhi’s national parties. The NDPP, by contrast, has no organisational presence or emotional connection in these areas. To local voters, the merger looks like an absorption of their once-autonomous voice into a Nagaland-based formation that lacks legitimacy beyond its own borders.
The same holds true in Arunachal Pradesh, where the NPF’s small but significant presence in the Naga belt of Tirap, Changlang, and Longding represented a democratic articulation of identity. By merging into the NDPP, these constituencies lose even symbolic representation. The NDPP has no relevance or resonance there; it is a Nagaland-centric entity with no organic roots in Arunachal’s political soil.
Power Without Purpose
At its core, the merger serves one function: the consolidation of tickets and control before the next election. It simplifies negotiations with the BJP and reduces internal dissent within the state’s ruling coalition. But this tactical neatness comes at the cost of moral legitimacy. It offers no new policy direction, no institutional reforms, and no generational renewal.
The merger reveals a political class that has grown risk-averse — more interested in managing power than imagining the future. It betrays a deep anxiety about fragmentation but offers no roadmap to rebuild trust in governance or re-energize the regional movement that once shaped Nagaland’s distinct voice within the Union.
Symbolism of Decline
In the larger picture of Naga politics, this merger represents the end of a certain regional idealism that once aspired to speak for all Nagas, not just for those within the administrative boundaries of Nagaland. The NPF, with all its flaws, at least embodied the dream of a shared Naga political imagination. The NDPP–NPF union, on the other hand, reflects the domestication of that dream — reduced to a manageable equation between coalition partners.
History will not remember this merger as a turning point. It will remember it as a signpost in the decline of regional self-belief — a moment when politics surrendered imagination to expediency. When the vocabulary of unity replaced the language of purpose. And when the promise of change was once again postponed in the name of convenience.
For many, NPF–NDPP merger may seem like a new dawn. However, to a discerning analyst, it look like the dusk of resignation. It does not open new possibilities for the Naga people; it closes the chapter on a once-meaningful regional movement. It changes nothing in the structure of governance or representation — only the letterhead under which familiar faces continue to operate.
In a region where politics once carried the weight of historical destiny, such mergers remind us that the real game has been irretrievably lost—not in the assembly, but in the imagination. And the rooster chirps instead of crowing.