A Conversation on the Dog Meat Ban in Nagaland

“We did it, Neilhou,” said Huto as he walked through the door of my café.

“Did what?” I asked amid the cacophony of other conversations while fishing out my notepad to take his order.

“The dog meat ban! It’s official! The Chief Secretary just announced it. Isn’t it wonderful?” he beamed. “Coffee and omelet, please.”

I had no opinion on the subject. But it was nice to see him happy.

“Excuse me. I couldn’t help but overhear. Are you celebrating over this new public directive?” came the gruff voice of Kevi from the corner. She was a new regular who recently arrived in town for college education. Her usually pleasant mood seemed to be absent with the way her eyebrows furrowed as she stared at Huto.

“Well, yeah. It’s a great move in fighting against animal cruelty,” said Huto as he walked to a table next to her. Kevi shook her head, chewing on a donut.

“And how is that any different from animals being put to slaughter for food, say cows, pigs and chickens? You don’t eat any of these?” asked Kevi.

Huto laughed at the question. “Well, of course I do. But dogs are different. They’re pets. There’s a clear distinction between pets and livestock.”

“Yes, there’s a distinction. But the same livestock animals can be pets too. It depends on the culture. Dog meat just happens to be a part of the Naga dietary culture. So what’s wrong with that?” asked Kevi.

“Are you saying it’s completely normal for my pet dogs to be eaten just because our society practices it?” retorted Huto.

A few customers looked up. This wasn’t going well.

“Can both of you keep it down, please?” I said.

Kevi nodded. “Look, I’m not saying your dogs can be slaughtered just because we practice it. You can keep them as pets. But just because you don’t eat them, doesn’t mean you can impose the same habit on someone else’s diet. Consuming dog meat is normal in other countries such as China, Vietnam, Nigeria and even Switzerland for the matter. It just seems alien because it’s not a common practice.”

Huto tapped his fingers on the table while looking out the window.

“If you still don’t agree, look at it this way. Many in the Indian society are against the idea of beef ban. Is it right that this dietary law has to be imposed on the whole society just because a community holds cows with a certain amount of respect and status? No, my friend. It’s okay to practice what you believe. But it’s wrong to impose those same beliefs on another person with force. You have to look at the big picture here. It’s not just about our Naga society. This change could snowball into a series of other bigger political changes that encourage autocratic elements,” said Kevi.

The noise in the café died down. Everyone seemed fixated on the conversation.

“This new directive is because of a petition from a huge number of people in the country that wanted to see this change. Did you know that?” asked Huto.

Kevi smiled, wiping her mouth and getting up to pay the bill.

“I know,” she said. “But the majority of the people who signed it were not from our state. Our people only comprised the minority. So in essence, it was their will, not ours. Did you know that?”

The room fell dead silent as Kevi walked out of the door. I watched Huto as he looked out of the window, not even minding the coffee and omelet that I forgot to serve.