Nandita Haksar

The ethnic clashes that broke out in Manipur in May 2023 were ostensiblydue to Kuki opposition to the demand by the dominant Meiteis for ScheduledTribe status. Kukis, and other tribal groups, claim that this would eat into theirmeagre entitlements. In turn, the Kukis as a group have been branded 'illegalimmigrants', blamed for the proliferation of poppy cultivation, and accused of'narcoterrorism'. Conflicts between ethnic groups are not new in Manipur. But the violence in2023, which killed hundreds and displaced tens of thousands, was shocking forthe sheer viciousness on display. Any effort to find explanations to this conflictonly throws up more questions. Why is there such anger in the people of the state? Is this a religious or an ethnicconflict? Why were the police and paramilitary forces-of which huge numbersare deployed in Manipur-unable to stop the violence? What role did chauvinistMeitei organizations like Arambai Tenggol play in the violence? Why did it takeseveral months for India's national leadership to break their silence on the issue? Is there really a problem of illegal immigration into Manipur from Myanmar? Who are the Kuki-Zo people? Are they to blame for the drug menace in thestate, as claimed by the Meiteis? What have the state and central governmentsdone to prevent drug trafficking in the region? Does anyone benefit from what ishappening? In this urgent book, Nandita Haksar explores with clarity and insight, and alsocourage, a complex geopolitical problem, exposing the hypocrisy of identitypolitics in Manipur, never losing sight of those that have suffered-and continueto suffer-the most in this conflict.

A fire broke out at around 7 pm on 18 July 2012 at Maruti Suzuki India'smanufacturing plant in Manesar. It claimed the life of a manager. Within days, overtwo thousand temporary workers and 546 permanent workers were dismissedby the company, and 13 of them-including the entire leadership of the workers'union-were later charged for murder, thus ending yet another independent bodyfor collective bargaining. Unions are the last, and often only, line of defence workers have in modernindustries, especially when the management isn't averse to undermining theirrights, dignity and health in pursuit of higher profits. This was true of Maruti andtheir Japanese partner, and later, owner-Suzuki. Workers would get a seven-and-ahalf-minute break from physically demanding work-precise to the hundredth of asecond-to run to the toilet half a kilometre away and force a samosa and piping hottea down their throat. But they were denied two minutes of silence in the memory ofa deceased colleague's mother. The sabotage of their efforts at effective unionizing, generally in collusion with theHaryana state government, had therefore come as no surprise to the workers. Yetthey struggled through and managed to form successive representative bodies at boththe Gurgaon plant, and the one set up in Manesar in 2007. But not only were all ofthem crushed, some were never allowed to be officially registered. The often misrepresented events of July 2012 were thus far from an isolated incident. But few today, as then, are willing to see the matter from the workers' point of view. Anjali Deshpande and Nandita Haksar tell the story of the biggest car manufacturerin India through the voices of the workers, interviewed over a period of 3 years. Asthey tell us of their resistance to being turned into robots by an uncompromisingmanagement, it becomes abundantly clear that the Maruti revolution wasn't theunmitigated success it was touted to be.

Description'My brother and I have tried to preserve our humanity and keep alive our hope that one day wewill find a country which will welcome us and a people who will embrace us.'This is the remarkable story-as moving as it is inspiring-of two Iraqi brothers whogrow up in the midst of unending violence and become refugees, losing everything, yet refuse to be broken. Born in 1988 and 1991, even as children they saw their country descend into chaosand impoverishment after the Gulf War, and into bloody sectarian conflict after theUS-led invasion of 2003. Civil war and the sudden disappearance of their fathereventually forced them to take a flight to India and seek the protection of the UnitedNations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). But in a country they had been told was a place of tolerance, they became thenowhere people, branded 'illegal' foreigners, living in constant fear of beingdeported and coping daily with a communal situation where they found theirMuslim identity was almost as perilous as their Shia identity in Iraq. Worst of all, thevery agency that exists to support refugees like them and help with resettlement, abandoned them. This book is the first time that any refugees in India have spoken so candidly and insuch detail of their experiences. Their testimony exposes many truths about India, as it does about the international refugee problem and the world's premier refugeeagency. Written by a human rights lawyer who has set precedents in refugee lawsince the 1990s, it is a passionate plea for the recognition of the rights of refugees. It reminds policy makers, agencies like the UNCHR-and every one of us-thatrefugees are, first and always, human beings and not mere statistics.

An immensely valuable and revealing book about the decades-long Naga national movement, containing interviews with leaders, ideologues and soldiers that have never been published before. This first-of-its-kind book tells the story of the Naga national movement from the inside. Based on extensive interviews of the Naga nationalists, conducted in the late 1990s in Bangkok, Kathmandu, Dimapur and Delhi, it explains why the Indo-Naga conflict has lasted more than seven decades, and why successive prime ministers of India, from Jawaharlal Nehru to Narendra Modi, have personally met the Naga leaders and tried to resolve the conflict. In Kuknalim, leaders and members of ten Naga tribes spread across India and Myanmar speak directly to the reader about their childhood experiences, reasons for joining the armed struggle, and their personal triumphs and tragedies. They recount their journeys from small impoverished mountain villages through the jungles of Myanmar to China--from where they carried back arms to fight for an independent Nagaland--and finally the journey to the negotiating table. These stories relate to the period of the Naga movement from World War II to 1997, when Naga nationalists under the NSCN (IM) entered into a ceasefire agreement with the Indian state and began peace talks. And in the introduction to the book and the different sections in it, the authors also write about subsequent events, besides providing the political context for each interview. A groundbreaking work, Kuknalim offers invaluable insights into the world of Naga insurgency and its geo-political significance. Without asking the reader to agree or disagree with the people and movement it profiles, the book also examines complex questions of identity politics; the role of religion in nationalism; and the sentiments that drive men and women to take up arms and endure extreme hardship in pursuit of their dreams.

In this memoir by an unashamed Indian, Haksar writes about how food shaped her awareness of politics, patriarchy, nationalism and socialism, from her childhood during the Nehruvian era onwards. She takes us on a thoughtful journey through India, from her Kashmiri Pandit family settled in Old Delhi and Lucknow, to human-rights activism on behalf of Nagas in Manipur; from grappling with feminist ideals, to considering the impact of a globalized food industry in Goa. On a wider scale, she explains how our tastes and attitudes to food are shaped by caste, race, gender and class, exposing latent prejudices and bigotry. Haksar explores questions posed by food anthropologists and ecologists, and revisits debates between Babasaheb Ambedkar and Mahatma Gandhi on inter-dining. She also addresses the present controversies over beef-eating, vegetarianism and ideas of Hindu vs. Muslim food, in a milieu where debate is silenced. With wry accounts of sharing meals with Burmese and Iraqi refugees, and arguing about bourgeois vs. proletarian tea in the Naxalite movement, the book also contains memorable recipes from the many people she has eaten with. At heart is her question that if Indians cannot imagine sitting with each other and sharing food with a sense of equality and respect, how then can a national unity be built?