Tragedy and hope

In the history of the Naga political movement, September 6 holds a profound significance. It is a date that carries both the memory of unimaginable tragedy and the promise of peace. Two contrasting episodes-separated by just four years-reflect the realities of a people caught between violence and reconciliation. On September 6, 1960, the village of Matikhrü was turned into a theatre of horror. On September 6,1960 the people of Matikhrü, a small village, with around 15 houses, were subjected to the most horrific treatment and several were either butchered or shot in cold blood by the 16 Punjab Regiment, in retaliation for the attack on the 16 Assam Rifles camp at Thuda (Phor), by the Naga Home Guard on August 14,1960 and also the downing of IAF Dakota(DC3- Reg.HJ233) on August 26,1960 by the Naga army while dropping relief materials and ammunitions to the besieged post. All nine crew members captured and treated well and later released unharmed. Prior to the September 6 Matikhrü massacre, the 16 Punjab on September 1, tortured six villagers of Phor village to death ; while two from Moke village were beaten to death on September 2. Also, three from Yisi village were beaten to death on September 3. A villager from Lurari village was buried alive after being severely beaten up on September 4; while two from Meluri village were beheaded in front of the villagers. On September 5, 13 villagers from Lephori were arrested, tortured, tied together to a post and scalded with hot water. Women were also raped and the pregnant were forced to give birth in the open. In sharp contrast, September 6, 1964, tells another story. On this day, the first ceasefire agreement was declared between the Naga National Council and the Government of India. It was made possible through the persistent efforts of Baptist Church leaders such as Rev. Longri Ao and Rev. Kenneth Kerhuo, who, at great risk to their lives, managed to convince both sides to a cease fire. The announcement was a moment of relief and hope. Church bells rang across villages, signaling a much prayed for reprieve from violence. Although the ceasefire did not lead to an immediate political solution, it marked the beginning of dialogue. It created space for communities to rebuild and for leaders to reflect on the value of negotiations over conflict. That ceasefire period remains a milestone, not because it ended the issue, but because it proved that peace-however fragile-was possible. Looking back today, September 6 reminds us of two intertwined lessons. The first is that state-sanctioned violence leaves deep wounds that cannot simply be forgotten. Justice and acknowledgment of past wrongs remain essential if reconciliation is to be genuine. The second is that dialogue and moral courage, as shown by the church leaders of 1964, can open doors that weapons never can. For Nagaland, the significance of September 6 lies in holding together both memories-the pain of Matikhrü and the hope of the 1964 ceasefire. To remember one without the other would be incomplete. As Nagaland continues its search for lasting peace, the story of September 6 must guide people towards – learning from the past without being imprisoned by it, and moving to the future with reconciliation, dignity, and hope for peace.