By Tynshain Kupar Lyngdoh
The debate around jaidbynriew has long shaped the political and social thinking of the Khasi people. From village dorbar to pressure groups, from student unions to political platforms, the call to “protect the Jaidbynriew” has become almost sacred in Khasi public life. As a Khasi, I understand why this feeling exists. Our ancestors fought hard to preserve our kur, shnong, language, customs, and identity in the face of colonialism, migration, and political uncertainty. The concern about protecting our identity is genuine and justified.
But today, we must ask ourselves an uncomfortable question. Has our constant focus on protecting the jaidbynriew stopped us from progressing as a society?
For decades, Khasi leadership has looked at almost every issue through the lens of identity protection. Whether it is land ownership, jobs, migration, trade, or politics, the message has remained the same: “protect the Jaidbynriew.” While protecting identity is important, a society cannot survive only on defensive politics. A community also needs economic vision, better education, industries, entrepreneurship, scientific progress, and strong institutions. In many of these areas, the Khasi Hills continue to fall behind.
Meanwhile, other communities in Meghalaya particularly the Jaintias, despite having their own struggles, have increasingly focused on economic growth, education, and institution-building. We see more entrepreneurship, professional success, agricultural innovation, and organised community development. But among Khasi leadership, there is still a tendency to treat every challenge as a threat to identity. The result is a politics driven more by fear than by ambition.
One of the biggest contradictions in Khasi society is that we constantly talk about unity while remaining divided among ourselves. The slogan of Khasi unity often hides divisions based on region, political interests, and social differences. The idea of bringing smaller tribes under a larger Khasi identity has also created discomfort among communities that want to preserve their own traditions while still living together peacefully within Meghalaya. Real unity cannot come simply through the idea of bringing every smaller community under a larger Khasi identity. Experiences in the past, including concerns raised by sections of the Jaintia community, show that unity must be built carefully through mutual respect, equal recognition, and shared progress rather than through a sense of cultural absorption.
The tragedy is that while we endlessly debate identity, the economic foundation of Khasi society remains weak. Many educated Khasi youths still depend heavily on government jobs, while entrepreneurship and private-sector participation remain limited. Our markets are often dominated by outside traders not because they conspired against us, but because we failed to build strong local businesses ourselves. Tourism is growing in the Khasi Hills, yet much of the larger investment and organisation comes from outside our community. Instead of asking only “who is entering our land?”, we must also ask, “why are we not leading our own economy?”
There is also a growing culture of symbolic politics. Protests, pressure groups, and emotional speeches have started replacing long-term planning. It is easier to gather people through fear than through policy. It is easier to shout about outsiders than to improve education, roads, healthcare, farming, or industries. The common Khasi citizen is constantly told that identity is under threat, but is rarely shown a real roadmap for prosperity.
This is not an argument against protecting Khasi identity. Identity matters. Language matters. Land rights matter. Indigenous communities everywhere have genuine concerns about preserving their culture in a fast-changing world. But identity without development leads to stagnation. Protection without progress leads to isolation. A society cannot only preserve itself; it must also grow and adapt.
Today, the Khasi community stands at a crossroads. One path continues the politics of fear, constant suspicion, defensive reactions, and emotional appeals to ethnic identity. The other path is to move forward with confidence. Protecting our culture while also building a stronger economy, improving our traditional institutions, and strengthening our identity through progress instead of fear.
Our ancestors were not weak people hiding behind slogans. They were traders, farmers, thinkers, and builders of society. The true spirit of the Khasi people was never about isolating ourselves from the world, but engaging with it with dignity and confidence. If we truly want to protect the jaidbynriew, then we must build a society where Khasi youth become entrepreneurs, scientists, scholars, artists, industrialists, and leaders beyond Meghalaya. Like a frog that grows only when it leaves the small pond and sees the wider river; for a community that stays too long within the limits of fear risks forgetting how vast the world truly is, but one that dares to grow carries its identity even farther.
The future of the Khasi people will not be secured only through speeches about protection. It will be secured through education, economic strength, innovation, discipline, and visionary leadership. A community that only fears disappearance slowly loses confidence in itself. But a community that believes in its own ability to grow can preserve its identity naturally through success.
The time has come for Khasi leadership to move beyond survival politics and begin the harder work of building a stronger society. Protecting the jaidbynriew should not mean standing still while the world moves forward. It should mean ensuring that Khasi identity survives not as a fragile relic of the past, but as a confident and thriving force in the future.
