May 25 signaled the weekend of fear. On the road between Jagdalpur and Sukma along the deceptively verdant landscape of Chhattisgarh’s valleys, an IED exploded sometime between 5 pm and 6 pm. The road became a death trap, as automatic fire rained on a convoy that was carrying senior Congress politicians on a pre election campaign in the state which has for long been the epicentre of India’s bloodiest insurgency—the Naxalite movement. Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand account for over 65 per cent of violent Naxal activity in India. Among those killed was Congressman Mahendra Karma, whose association with the anti-Maoist vigilante group Salwa Judum made him prime target. Mahendra was no coward. In the last few minutes of his life, he gave himself up, hoping the rebels would spare the rest. Bayonets were driven into his head, and his body riddled with bullets as the public face of the most notorious anti-Naxalite militia met his end. But the attackers didn’t spare most of the rest. The IED that exploded that evening sent shockwaves that reached the protected, green enclaves of Lutyens Delhi where India’s political elite had been dithering on how to tackle the Naxalite movement, which has so far claimed the lives of 10,268 civilians and securitymen in the last five years.
Dead serious: The death graph has been rising: 2,372 deaths in 2009 as against 1,769 in 2008 and 1,737 in 2007. The Chhattisgarh massacre enraged the Congress leadership—unlike over the deaths of thousands of paramilitary soldiers. On January 7, 2013, 100 heavily armed Maoists in Latehar, Jharkhand, ambushed 10 CRPF soldiers. Four were shot in the head, disemboweled and explosive devices placed inside their stomachs. On April 4, 11 securitymen of the elite Special Operations Group were blown to bits in Koraput, Odisha. The nameless obituaries of lawmen who have died in the state’s protracted war against India’s most violent insurgents are forgotten in the turmoil of politics played by all parties. “It is not an attack on Congress, it is an attack on democracy,” said Congress vice president Rahul Gandhi who has dabbled in Odisha’s tribal politics. “It is an attack on democratic values which need to be condemned by not only political parties, but society as a whole,” declared Sonia Gandhi. From L K Advani and the Left to the Congress, the political class united as a whole in condemnation. But the attack was also converted into a political battle, with the Congress accusing the BJP government of not providing enough security to the ill-fated convoy.
Political acrobatics: One of the first post-massacre responses came from Jairam Ramesh, the Union Rural Development Minister. Ramesh took pains to point out that there was a one-on-one correspondence between non-Congress-ruled states and Maoist areas. This reveals the duality of the Congress’s anti-Maoist strategy. The Centre as an emblem of the State, is the natural antagonist of armed insurrectionists. Meanwhile, the Congress is a local-level political stakeholder in the Naxal-infested states (Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Odisha, UP and Bengal) whose aim is to wrest power from its rivals. This is the chief source of ambivalence in the party’s approach to fighting Maoists. The ill-fated Congress convoy presented an uncommon sight: a panoply of state Congress leaders, united, and going in a single file to dangerous, remote areas in an obvious attempt to “deepen political engagement”. This bipolarity in the Congress—one as the head of a government in faraway Delhi committed to eradicate Maoist rebellion, and the other as a political actor with major vested interests in the states is at the core of the confusion in India’s, and the UPA’s anti-Maoist strategy.
Futile force: In the immediate aftermath of the Sukma massacre, most of the attention was focused on Salwa Judum’s Mahendra Karma,who had as much blood on his hands as the Naxals. Ironically, the Salwa Judum—neaning ‘Purification Hunt’ in the language of the Gondi tribals—was supported by the Chattisgarh Congress government in 2006 and later by the BJP. Strangely Nandkumar Patel, the state Congress chief, who was shot along with his son, did not get similar attention. Questions are swirling in the Congress headquarters in Delhi on why Patel was targeted. He was one of the first political figures in Chhattisgarh to oppose Operation Green Hunt. Patel’s dissent had opened the first fault-line in UPA-II, with the party and government openly taking different lines on a national issue.
Crippling dissent: In 2010, P Chidambaram had claimed that the Maoist insurgency would be wiped out by 2013. The Anti Naxal Operations in West Bengal and Jharkhand were successful. But members of the Congress Working Committee charged Chidamabaram of confusing Naxalism with terrorism, thus weakening the paramilitary effort. The then-army chief V K Singh objected, saying that Naxalism was a problem created by politicians. The then air force chief P V Naik, too, opposed aerial attacks, saying civilian casualties cannot be avoided. These stances were in perfect alignment with the brand of politics Rahul was pursuing at that time: his intervention in Odisha’s Niyamgiri being the most stark illustration of this ostensibly ‘pro-tribal’ tilt, chasing the chimera of Indira Gandhi’s sway over the tribals, with all its mai-baap welfarist elements. And Chidambaram was forced to backtrack on Operation Green Hunt—ironically cited by the Naxals as revenge for last week’s massacre. It has taken the near-annihilation of the entire Chhattisgarh party leadership for the Congress to rethink its anti-insurgency stand. Despite accepting the socio-economic basis of the Maoist problem and rooting for a grassroots development-led approach, the party continues to be identified with what the Maoists’ People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army calls the “capitalist class enemy”, aligned with big business and the prime mover behind Salwa Judum and the CRPF presence in the forests.
Critics are quick to point out those grand statements about the “death of democracy” and a degree of solidarity with the BJP only came about after the political leadership experienced direct violence. Till now, only tribals and underpaid CRPF jawans have been fodder in the bloody war. In April 2010, 80 CRPF men were brutally killed by over 500 Naxalites in Dantewada. They did not go down meekly, fighting to the last bullet. The home ministry appointed former BSF chief E N Ramamohan to probe the massacre, but the ministry refused to release the report, claiming it “prejudicially affects the sovereignty and integrity of India, the security, strategic, scientific or economic interests of the State, relation with foreign State or lead to incitement of an offence.”
In denial: In 2010, Digvijaya’s said Maoists were “not terrorists, but misguided ideologues”. Congress spokesman Bhaktacharan Das—the tribal leader who accompanied Rahul to Niyamgiri—preferred to call Maoists “criminals”. The BJP’s policy is ambiguous. Chhattisgarh Chief Minister Raman Singh’s one-time security advisor KPS Gill has pointed out that the “stay out of each other’s hair” approach prefers coexistence with Naxals over risking outright antagonism. But the contradiction revolves around buying over disaffected tribals with 2kg of free rice while championing new versions of the Salwa Judum approach. The thrust seems to be to keep the Maoists limited to Bastar, leaving Raipur violence-free and opening up vast tracts of tribal land to mining interests, amidst allegations that big business survives on the back of “levy” paid to the Maoists.
Scary statistics: Four Maoist attacks occur per day that kill at least two civilians or policemen. The “armed revolution” fired by romantic illusions about equal rights has undergone a massive character change in 46 years. The seed that was sown in a small village of Naxalbari on May 18, 1967 has now spread its roots to over 100 districts in nine states. The government has been inviting Maoists for talks, only to be rejected. The frightening aspect of this change is that Maoists have joined hands with domestic terror outfits, which are supported by external forces. According to NCRB data, India spends an average `200,899 per policeman per year. Including central forces, the nation spends over Rs 2160 crore annually on anti-Naxal operations alone. It costs the taxpayer at least Rs 29.18 crore for one Naxalite’s death—exorbitant, thanks to the lack of a clear counter insurgency policy.
Red extortionists: A senior police officer who has grilled several surrendered Naxalites in Jharkhand and Chhattisgarh says most ultras have never seen a photograph of Chairman Mao, let alone have read his little Red Book. Arun Oraon, IG, Dumka Range says their short-term objective is to wield power at local levels in their areas of influence. Oraon says apart from main CPI(Maoist), at least six splinter groups are involved in an organised extortion racket in Naxal-hit states. Intelligence agencies estimate that the total extortion money collected would be around Rs 1600 crore annually. Former DIG, BSF Prakash Singh argues that building popular resistance is the only answer, but human rights activists and political compulsions prevent this from happening. The arrest of Public Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL) activist Binayak Sen in 2007 for pro-Naxalite activities by the Chhattisgarh government provoked international outrage, orchestrated by the human rights lobby. Denied bail repeatedly, Sen became a cause célebre for PUCL. In December 2007, the Supreme Court dismissed Sen’s bail petition observing that “You are emphasising too much on PUCL. This does not mean that you are immune. This also does not mean your are not associated with banned activities.” For once the Congress and Chhattisgarh’s BJP government were on the same page; the Home Ministry also supported the state government in opposing Sen’s bail plea. In the end, the Supreme Court gave Sen bail without assigning any reason. Illustrating the confusion that prevails in UPA over Naxalism, Sen was made a member of the Planning Commission’s Steering Committee on Health, to advise the panel on the Twelfth Five-Year Plan—cocking a snook at the BJP.
Development politics: DIG Singh says that development can take place only when you have a liberated area to develop. “You do not have control over the land where Maoists have their strongholds,” he observes. The situation today is far different from the 1970s, when the Congress formed vigilante squads in West Bengal to eliminate Naxalites. The Indian Army and police supported them. In 1971, around 50,000 CPI (ML) members were jailed. Around 150 Naxals were massacred. In July 1972, father of Naxalism Charu Mazumdar was arrested and he died in custody. Along with him, the Naxalite movement in West Bengal died too. By end-1972 Bengal, under then-chief minister S S Ray was described as one of the most peaceful states. “You have to neutralise the Maoist leadership. That can be done only through policing and intelligence,” says security expert Ajai Sahni.
“You build a hospital, Naxals will blow it up. You build a school, they will destroy it. Conflict breeds corruption and the political class is taking advantage. Hundreds of crores are being siphoned off in the name of development and there is no accountability,” says Sahni.
The Maoists have been following a systematic and violent anti-development policy. In 2012, they demolished 219 government and private installations including 11 pipelines, 12 railway tracks, 24 telephone exchanges and three schools. The Ministry of Home Affairs says that in areas like liberated Abujhmad, Chattisgarh, the absence of governance becomes a self- fulfilling prophecy since delivery systems are extinguished through killings and intimidation. Maoist policy is to spread fear by killing low-level government officials, policemen, workers of mainstream political parties and panchayat members. Around 83 elected representatives including 69 panchayat functionaries in Gadchiroli, Maharashtra resigned in 2012 under Maoist threat. Home Ministry data shows that the majority of civilians killed by Maoists are tribals—for whom the Naxals claim to be fighting for. In 2011-2012 they killed 769 tribals. In 2012, only 74 naxals were killed at the cost of 114 securitymen.
“The Naxals are not obliged to go by the Geneva Convention as our leaders think. We do not even have a rigorous definition of insurgency,” says Sahni. India objected to the inclusion of the Maoist issue under the category of “armed conflict” in an UN report. India told the Security Council that Maoist violence does not fall within the definition of armed conflict.
Deadly nexus: Intelligence agencies assess Naxalite numbers to be around “15,000 to 20,000 poorly armed guerrillas”. But for the past 46 years, the government with a number of agencies at its disposal has been unable to contain these “poorly armed” insurgents. Oraon says that Naxals are helped by North-eastern militants to procure weapons. “Initially the weapons were looted from security forces but now they are getting arms through the Myanmar-China route.”
The NIA states that Maoists have signed an agreement with the banned terrorist organisation People’s Liberation Army (PLA) of Manipur in 2006 to buy sophisticated weapons. Subsequently, The Peoples Liberation Guerilla Army, the CPI (Maoist) and PLA signed a joint declaration in 2008 to wage war against India in unison. Over the years Maoists have also established temporary arms productions units in Andhra Pradesh, Chhattisgarh, Bengal and Maharashtra.
The urban push: Documents recovered from Naxal hideouts show that they are preparing to expand from the jungle, to tap the vulnerable urban working class and the affluent intelligentsia in Delhi for their ‘Mission 2020-Hoisting the Red flag atop Red Fort’. Intelligence reports say they plan to make Delhi their safe haven and conduct recruitment, motivation classes and ideological training and fund collection.
The Intelligence Bureau has expressed concerns about massive fund-raising by various organisations sympathetic towards the ‘Red Revolution’. As paramilitary forces and state police intensify their strategy to smoke Maoist leaders out in the cities as well, India’s politicians are sitting on a time bomb—which, if not neutralised—could explode and plunge the nation into a bloody civil war.