Setting the stage

For a European who conducted expeditions to the Naga Hills, the region was a ‘museum-piece’, and the objects (both archaeological and ethnographic) and numerous photographs that depicted Naga ways of life, displayed or archived in the West, authenticated the primitive stages of human development (Jamir Reference Jamir2021). Even as early as the 1930s, the level of public awareness of the Nagas was such that even an untitled sketch of a Naga man in a popular-market boys’ book, The Golden Budget for Boys, published by Blackie & Son in London around 1930 was intended to portray the main themes of the book – including the extent of empire, notions of masculinity, the relationship with native peoples and the role of the white man (for details on this illustration, see West Reference West2011: 93, Fig. 5.1; cited in Jamir et al. Reference Jamir, Vasa and Tetso2014).

Racial categorization is also replete in the early ethnography of Northeast India. The ‘Mongolian Fringe’ was the title of an official paper from 1940 by Olaf Caroe, the foreign secretary of the British–Indian government in New Delhi, referring to parts of Northeast India, which according to Baruah, reflects the unabashedly racialized view of the world that characterized this genre of imperial geopolitical writing (Baruah Reference Baruah2013). There were also two key notions in the European discourse on modernity, even during early antiquarian times, which were crucially supported by modern archaeology, including anthropology: race and teleological development (Källén and Karlström Reference Källén, Karlström, Bellina, Bacus, Pryce and Christie2010). It is here that archaeology and anthropology became discursive devices for the justification of colonial policies based on ideas of human inequality (Fabian Reference Fabian1983). To the British, the Nagas were variously perceived as ‘wild’, ‘savage’, ‘primitive’ and ‘uncivilized’, and if Nagas were to be of any use to the British, they had to be first ‘civilized’ (Lotha Reference Lotha2007, 46). Naga objects that appeared in European museums overseas not only confirmed the fondly held image of the ‘noble’ but also the ‘primitive’ and ‘savage’, and their ideas about the Nagas as ‘other’ were evident in the monographs and ‘protectionism’ of Mills and Hutton, and particularly of Fürer-Haimendorf (Stockhausen Reference Stockhausen, Oppitz, Kaiser, von Stockhausen and Wettstein2008, 64). Hutton and Mills saw this pre-British period as somehow pristine and static: ‘Change’ was brought by Europeans in the form of the administration’s prohibition of headhunting and the missionaries’ prohibition of feasts of merit and manifestations of sexual prowess as a means of attaining status (West Reference West1994, 68). In their opinion, there has been ‘little change, fortunately, from the time of Megasthenes in the Naga Hills’ (Hutton Reference Hutton1928, 228, emphases added). The general attitude at that time was that Northeast India was an unprogressive cultural backwater or cul de sac, a region incapable of bringing on innovations of its own. These sorts of colonial stereotypes of the Nagas continue to resonate in casual discussions even today. A case in point is Manpreet Singh’s article, ‘The soul hunters of Central Asia’ (Reference Singh2006), published in Christianity Today, which describes the Naga homeland as ‘once notorious worldwide for its savagery’ but now ‘the most Baptist state in the world.’

In addition, for those categorized as ‘northeasterners’ within India, the transition to metropolitan city centres such as Delhi and Bangalore can be a precarious one; students of the Northeast region have succumbed to injuries after being beaten because of the manner of their clothing, hairstyles and physical features, with the aftermath of such deaths sparking student protests on the streets of Delhi (Gergan and Smith Reference Gergan and Smith2021). Films such as Stranger in My Land (2014), based on the real events of Duyu Tabyo’s life, draw on the discrimination suffered by the people of Northeast India. Also, the comedy–drama film Axone (2019) (or Akhuni) tells a subtle story of relationships, culture and cuisine, thus framing a mode of resistance against the oppression of migrants from the Northeast.

Locating Indigenous archaeology in Northeast India

My first thoughts are drawn to the discovery and excavation of an archaeological site in Mizoram, one of the hill states of Northeast India. The site of Vangchhia in Champhai District of Mizoram is situated in the eastern part of the state on the Indo-Myanmar border and is well known for its rich cluster of stone monuments (Malsawmliana 2014; Singh Reference Singh2019). The national importance of the site was notified in 2014 and was subsequently surveyed and excavated by the Archaeological Survey of India from 2014 to 2018. The site is composed of a large cluster of megaliths carved with an impressive array of petroglyphs such as human figures, motifs of various animals, weapons and ornaments; evidence of burials; raised stone walls; a water pavilion; and numerous posthole features. Two inconsistent dates are reported from two different laboratories: an older date of cal A.D. 620 ± 50 years (BS-3974) and a later date of cal A.D. 1445–1620 (Beta-434044) (Nayan Reference Nayan2018). Ever since its excavation and the evidence that unfolded, the site of Vangchhia has been contentious for one fundamental reason – its sensational christening in the excavation report as an interesting and unique ‘lost Civilization’ that came to light for the first time in the history of Mizoram (Nayan Reference Nayan2018, 28). While the intention of the excavator was to reveal the glorious past of the Mizo community, the rhetoric of a ‘lost Civilization’ triggered a backlash when the excavation made headlines in national media such as The Hindu, The Times of India, and other digital platforms such as The Better India News, The North East Today, and Facebook. Besides the elaborate petroglyphs on the monuments, what got one’s attention was the ‘water pavilion’ that was likened by some to a Mughal pavilion and interpreted as an Ingenious traditional water harvesting system. In my field experience at the Naga ancestral site of Chungliyimti, similar features of varying sizes and depths cut through the soft sandstone bedrock in linear rows and also widely dispersed in considerable numbers were excavated. These features served as post-holes for residential structures facing in a roughly east–west direction. Located in between these rows of post-hole features were a few rock-cut drainages where charred botanical remains were retrieved (Jamir et al. Reference Jamir, Vasa and Tetso2014). Given the nature of such comparable archaeological evidence from other parts of Northeast India, particularly Nagaland, I would reinterpret the Vangchhia ‘water pavilion’ evidence as post-hole features representing residential structures.

I struck upon a close conversation with Dr. Malsawmliana, president of the Mizo Archaeological Society, who revealed greater details of Vangchhia and their displeasure with the way the site archaeology was represented:

The aforementioned backdrop is an appropriate case in point to demonstrate the way in which the Indigenous past is represented within Indian archaeology and, quite evidently, the excavators not integrating a community-oriented and participatory archaeology with the Indigenous people of Vangchhia. Such callous perpetuations by institutions and mainstream media alike will have detrimental effects in denying the Indigenous people their past and their presence in the region. Worst of all, this reflects an attempt by institutions in a post-colonial state to appropriate and subordinate the history of Indigenous peoples, and there should, therefore, be efforts to decolonize the parochial ideas of institutions and their knowledge production in relation to the Northeast region. Another pertinent case is the vandalism and relocation of jars observed at sites such as Bolasan, Kobak and Dubungling in North Cachar Hills (now Dima Hasao Autonomous Council), Assam. Had a more community-inclusive archaeology been engaged by the ASI, its protected stone jar monument of national importance status could have still impeded destruction (Mitri et al. Reference Mitri, Jamir, Mepusangba, Syiemlieh, Darnei, Thakuria and Kharpuri2022, 14).

The other concern relates to the marginalization of history, culture and the people of the region. Post-colonial Indian states have largely viewed the Northeast as the political and cultural ‘other’ – its past ignored, further leading to fallout on peace-building measures to settle the decades-long armed political conflict, and stereotyped as a hub of insurgency. Very often, its people are ridiculed as Chinese, and during the pandemic, many people from the northeastern states were assaulted, called ‘coronavirus’ and even spat on, as they were being blamed for spreading the virus, which had its origins in China (Zahan Reference Zahan2022). ‘The tradition of history writing’, maintains Uttam Bathari, an Indigenous Northeast historian, ‘is highly biased in favour of literary sources…Thus, the social memories of these oral communities do not pass the standard of evidence crucial for the reconstruction of their pasts, turning them into people without history’ (cited in Zahan Reference Zahan2022, emphases added).

Such ignorance of the region in mainstream history and textbooks drove Rajon Das, a 22-year-old engineering student from the National Institute of Technology (NIT), Silchar, to embark on a walk through all Northeastern states as a mark of protest demanding the inclusion of chapters on the history of the Northeast region in the national educational curriculum (Zahan Reference Zahan2022). While the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT) claims that the region finds ‘adequate space’ in its publications, the reality paints a very lopsided picture. The NCERT instead published a supplementary textbook titled North East India – people, history and culture in 2017, which was not part of the core curriculum but only supplementary (Pratha 2024).

Indigenous knowledge and archaeology of Naga ancestral sites

The idea of community participation in government-initiated projects and policies is not new to Northeast India. Community collaboration and support have been successfully implemented in numerous biodiversity conservation projects in Nagaland and other Northeast Indian states (Jamir Reference Jamir2024). In the context of Nagaland, one cannot do archaeology without consultation, support and, most of all, collaboration with descendant communities. In the case of the community archaeology projects that we have engaged in for close to almost two decades, collaboration, relationality, mutual trust and long-term sustained interculturality with Naga Indigenous communities and archaeologists have always been an integral part of our research. Because of such considerations in our research, we have developed and maintained decades-long friendships with local stakeholders, and these enduring friendships still continue to this day.

Descendant communities are mainly drawn to at least two areas of archaeology, which fascinate them – culture history and chronology and how their ancestral past can be approached from multiple perspectives. In addition to the oral tradition strongly anchored to land and territories, the archaeological knowledge empowers Indigenous communities to take control of their land and heritage. Hence, such engagement is a meaningful involvement linking the study of their own history through their own narrative and not from an outsider’s perspective. Furthermore, these collaborations largely contribute to the decolonization of history that informs the way a particular community was previously represented, entangled not only in colonial accounts but also in the way they are projected by non-Indigenous scholars, even in post-colonial times.

Our archaeological research on Naga ancestral sites helped Indigenous communities realize their deep pre-colonial past. This realization emerged as a result of the community’s accounts of the rich oral historical sources associated with Naga ancestral sites. Indigenous epistemology has always come to aid archaeological research in Northeast India. Traditional knowledge held by community elders has always been a reliable primary source in ancestral site surveys. These accounts enrich our understanding of the ancestral landscapes and their worldview that makes a sense of their place. Any inconspicuous feature unlocated on topographic maps yet significant in the community’s oral tradition was identified as a potential site for study, even to the extent of naming archaeological sites on survey maps and site reports, which might appear casual to archaeologists. Because the ancestral landscape is so closely entangled with traditional accounts of sites, descendant community consultation is paramount, as any error in the specific use of a site name will result in strong dissent from the community.

Another constituent feature of incorporating Indigenous epistemologies is the traditional knowledge referring to the notion of time in Naga culture. This involves the oscillation of the Putu Menden or the Ao Naga traditional village institution that runs for 30 years before the new office takes over the charge of running the village affairs. Yet, a much deeper understanding of time is Aso, equated to 100 years (Anungla Aier, personal comm. 2010). Interestingly, a local historian, Panger Imchen (Reference Imchen1990), writing in one of the Ao Naga vernacular books, Ao Mongsen Lipok, points to the completion of 3 Asos prior to the institution of the Putu Menden in ancient Chungliyimti and also 10 Asos at a time when the Senden Riju (traditional assembly) evolved. Relying on oral historical accounts, Imchen (Reference Imchen1990) therefore drew a broad timeline beginning from A.D. 100–1025, the period that the Aos lived in Chungliyimti (Imchen Reference Imchen1990, 32). Such traditional accounts seemed to complement several of the radiocarbon dates of the site well (Jamir et al. Reference Jamir, Vasa and Tetso2014). Another narrative is the Indigenous reference to the idea of cultural progress, which, in this case, relates to a linear evolution. According to the Ao and Sangtam Naga folklore, the ancestral village Chungliyimti experienced at least three periods of evolution. The first was Mütitakong, when man, animal and spirits lived together in harmony. The prefix Mütita loosely translates as ‘unseparated or undivided’, while kong refers to ‘landmasses such as mountain ranges’. This was succeeded by Sümedem (a condition of harmony without discords) and, thereafter, the Chungliyimti phase, by which time people began to gradually disperse (Aier Reference Aier2018, 35, 90–91).

Repatriation of Naga ancestral remains

As part of a means of decolonizing museum practice, the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford recently initiated a dialogue with the Nagas to repatriate Naga ancestral remains to communities of origin as part of a ‘process of redress, social healing, and the mending of historically difficult relationships’ (cited in Longkumer and Kikon Reference Longkumer and Kikon2022, 2); meanwhile, others are critical of the need to contextualize the historical narratives of the Nagas by calling for a more relevant procedure for the ongoing Naga repatriation process (Zhimomi Reference Zhimomi2023). Dialogues and consultations are ongoing with the Naga people, and we hope that the repatriation and restitution of the Naga human remains back to source communities will not only help expand a much deeper engagement in decoloniality but also offer an opportunity to reassert control and rights over our own Naga heritage by bringing home what was lost to the museums overseas. In this context, the Forum for Naga Reconciliation (FNR), as the main facilitator, is developing and enabling a Naga response around the future care of Naga ancestral human remains [Recover, Restore and Decolonise (RRaD) Team 2023].

In a country where the practice of archaeology continues to privilege a colonial tradition, even in post-colonial India, what is desirable to explore in the Northeast region of India is an inclusive archaeology involving Indigenous communities that underpins a more collaborative and community-oriented approach. The centrality of some of these evolving concerns now attains some depth in stimulating debate regarding the repatriation of Indigenous peoples’ remains to Northeast India, cultural patrimony, Indigenous knowledge systems and collaborative and community-based participatory research involving people whose cultures we encounter.