By Joyshree Usham
Imphal, March 12:
In a stunning display of political acrobatics, Finance Minister Nirmala Sitaraman graced Parliament on Tuesday evening with a speech that will undoubtedly go down in history as a masterclass in how to trivialize a burning state while maintaining an impressively straight face. Manipur, a state currently grappling with ethnic violence, economic collapse, and the displacement of over 60,000 people, was reduced to a mere footnote in her fiery monologue. Instead of addressing the crisis, she chose to play the age-old game of “Who’s Worse: Us or Them?”—a classic distraction technique that left many wondering if she had mistaken Parliament for a comedy roast.
“It’s Not as Bad as 1993, Guys!”
The Finance Minister’s pièce de résistance was her audacious comparison of the current crisis to the Kuki-Naga conflict of 1993, which claimed 750 lives and destroyed 350 villages. With the finesse of a seasoned statistician, she implied that since fewer lives have been lost this time, the situation isn’t that severe. One can almost imagine her shrugging and saying, “It’s just a little ethnic violence, folks. Nothing to see here!” Her remarks were a stark reminder that in the world of politics, human suffering is often measured in numbers, not stories. The fact that thousands are languishing in relief camps and prices of essential commodities have soared like never before seemed to escape her notice. But hey, at least it’s not 1993, right?
A Blast from the Past: Congress Did It Too!
In a desperate attempt to deflect criticism, the Finance Minister dusted off the old “But Congress did it too!” playbook. She meticulously recounted the sins of past governments, from the 1993 violence to the 2011 blockade that crippled Manipur for 120 days. While her history lesson was thorough, it was also entirely irrelevant to the current crisis. The people of Manipur, who are currently living through hell, are unlikely to find solace in the fact that previous governments also failed them. Her speech was a masterstroke in whataboutery, a political tactic that involves pointing fingers at the opposition instead of addressing the issue at hand. It’s like watching your house burn down and being told, “Well, your neighbour’s house burned down in 1993, so stop complaining!”
The Art of Ignoring Global Criticism
While the world watches Manipur burn, Prime Minister Modi has maintained a stoic silence. The Finance Minister, in her infinite wisdom, decided to double down on this strategy by dismissing global criticism as irrelevant. Her speech was a clear message to the international community: “We don’t need your opinions, thank you very much.” This bold stance might have been admirable if it weren’t for the fact that Manipur is in the throes of a humanitarian crisis. But who needs global solidarity when you have a Finance Minister who can deliver a speech so tone-deaf that it could make a rock cringe?
The Budget: A Slap in the Face
To add insult to injury, the Finance Minister recently presented a budget for Manipur that has been widely criticised as inadequate. With 60,000 people displaced and the state’s economy in shambles, the budget was seen as a slap in the face to those who had hoped for meaningful intervention. Her speech on Tuesday only reinforced the perception that the government is more interested in saving face than saving lives.
The People of Manipur: Forgotten, Again
At the heart of this crisis are the people of Manipur, who have been reduced to mere statistics in political debates. They don’t care about which party failed them in 1993 or 2011. They don’t care about global criticism or parliamentary theatrics. All they want is peace, normalcy, and a government that priorities their well-being over political point-scoring. The Finance Minister’s speech was a stark reminder of how far removed our leaders are from the ground reality. While she waxed eloquent about past failures, the people of Manipur were left wondering if anyone in power actually cares about their suffering.
A New Low in Political Discourse
In her attempt to defend the indefensible, the Finance Minister achieved the impossible: she made a humanitarian crisis about politics. Her speech was a masterclass in insensitivity, ignorance, and deflection. It was a reminder that in the world of politics, the suffering of the people is often just collateral damage in the larger game of power. As Manipur burns, the Finance Minister’s remarks will be remembered not as a solution, but as a symbol of everything that’s wrong with our political system. The people of Manipur deserve better. They deserve leaders who listen, who care, and who act. Unfortunately, what they got on Tuesday evening was a Finance Minister who made a joke out of their pain. And that’s no laughing matter. If the Finance Minister’s goal was to make the people of Manipur feel even more abandoned, she succeeded spectacularly.
Here’s hoping her next speech includes an apology—not just to Manipur, but to the very idea of empathy itself.
