*A Zone Of Twisted Law*

*Two Adivasis — supposed Naxals — are killed by police in a remote Orissa
town. **SANJANA** pens the only on-the-spot report from a land where the
state dubs dissent as automatically Maoist PHOTOGRAPHS BY **TARUN SEHRAWAT*
 [image: image]  *Vigil* *A woman in Dombsil village
sits before the wreckage of her house, destroyed by the CMAS*

IF GIVEN a map and told this town’s name, chances are you’d find it
difficult to spot. Devoted scrutiny would reveal, ultimately, a small
two-street settlement in Orissa, about 500 km from the state capital
Bhubaneswar, almost astride the border with Andhra Pradesh. There are tens
of thousands of remote Indian towns like this but there is a good reason to
take a closer look at Narayanpatna.
 THE INJURIES ON THE DEAD INDICATE THAT THE POLICE SHOT TO KILL, NOT TO
INCAPACITATE

On the afternoon of November 20, the Indian Reserve Battalion, a
paramilitary force stationed at Narayanpatna police station opened fire on
150 Adivasis who had gathered in front of the station. Two people, Wadeka
Singanna and Andru Nachika, died; around 60 were injured. The victims were
members of the Chasi Mulia Adivasi Sangh (CMAS), an Adivasi rights
organisation working in Narayanpatna block. They were protesting against
excesses committed by police and paramilitary forces that entered their
villages during search and combing operations.

Narayanpatna block (in Orissa, a block is an administrative unit comprising
several villages which falls under a tehsil) is a hilly tract of land on the
Orissa-Andhra Pradesh border. Almost 90 percent of the 45,000 people who
live in the block are Adivasis. For several years, according to the police,
the block has witnessed violent attacks by Maoists – informers and
contractors have been declared anti-people agents of the state and murdered
with impunity and even police stations have been blown up. The November 20
firing, it is clear, took place in an extremely troubled land.

The reasons for the actual firing, however, are less clear. After travelling
to the spot, TEHELKA discovered that even nine days after the incident,
there was no consensus on the events of that day.
 EYEWITNESSES AGREE THAT THE BULLETS CAME FROM THE POLICEMEN ON THE STATION
ROOF

In a press conference two days after the firing, SP Deepak Kumar laid out
the official police version: leaders of CMAS broke down the police station
gates and confronted Gaurang Sahu, the inspector in charge of the station.
Heated arguments followed. At one point in the altercation, the Adivasis
snatched a self loading assault rifle and opened fire. In all, 22 rounds
were fired, claimed the SP and Sahu was shot in the leg. According to him,
the police firing that killed the two CMAS leaders was in self-defence, in
retaliation to the firing by the Adivasis.
 [image: image]  *Cause for alarm* *Seeing
TEHELKA staffers, a 26-member
Special Operations Group team
starts search and combing
operations in Basnaput village*

However, senior district administration officials and a government-appointed
lawyer who reached the town a few hours after the firing offered TEHELKA a
different account of the day. Off the record, a medical staffer involved in
the post-mortem said that the bullet injuries indicated that the two leaders
had been shot from behind, along the spine. No bullet injuries were found on
their legs, suggesting that the police were shooting to kill, not to
incapacitate. Singanna, a key CMAS leader, was shot 14 times, with some of
the shots being fired after he fell to the ground. When TEHELKA asked the
medical staffer about the injuries sustained by Inspector Sahu, there was
silence. In a feeble, nervous voice, he revealed that the injuries were by
no means grievous. Ask if the examination of Inspector Sahu’s wounds showed
signs of a bullet injury and the staffer tells TEHELKA he wants to be
excused. He has a family that depends on him and would like to keep his job,
he says. A constable at the police station who, too, refused to identify
himself told TEHELKA that the injured inspector declined an offer to airlift
him to Visakhapatnam, the nearest major city. The constable admitted,
however, that that evening, Gaurang Sahu was limping around.
 AFTER GETTING ADIVASIS HOOKED ON ALCOHOL, THEIR LAND WAS GRABBED BY
MONEYLENDERS

There are several other unanswered questions. If the Adivasis fired 22
rounds at the police and one bullet hit Sahu, where are the remaining
bullets? In a relatively small police station compound, how did the Adivasis
who were apparently firing indiscriminately manage to miss the other
policemen and IRB forces? Who did they seize the weapon from? The
altercation between the Adivasi leaders and the inspector took place in full
public view in the station compound, between the gate and the station
building. As the station sits on the junction of Narayanpatna’s two main
roads, there were plenty of other eyewitnesses besides the CMAS members.
Despite this, not one person talks of bullets fired from multiple locations.
All accounts state that the bullets – 82 rounds were fired said SP Deepak
Kumar at the press conference – came from the roof of the police station.
The IRB personnel on the roof allegedly fired at the two leaders and then at
the crowd. When TEHELKA contacted Gaurang Sahu, he refused to answer any
questions.
 VOICES OF DEMOCRATIC PROTEST CAN EASILY BE SILENCED BY CALLING THEIR OWNERS
MAOISTS

THIS REFUSAL by the medical staffers and the police to come on record or
even answer any questions is given some perspective when you consider what
the Adivasis who were there that day say. Ranju Wadeka says, “We went to the
police station to protest against their misbehaviour with women in Dumbagoda
and Odipenta villages on November 18 and 19. When we reached the station, we
demanded that the inspector in charge come out and talk with us. We waited
for half an hour outside the station before four leaders walked through the
open gate into the station compound to speak with the inspector. After a
brief argument, as the leaders were leaving, the inspector yelled at the
forces stationed on the roof to open fire. We saw them shooting down
Singanna. After making sure he was not moving anymore, they turned their
guns on us.” Ask Wadeka if the Adivasis were armed — even with hatchets or
bows and arrows — and he laughs as he says, “If we wanted to kill the
police, would we have walked to the police station? They frequently come to
our villages for search operations. Wouldn’t it be easier to kill them
there?”
 [image: image]  *No news is bad news** Families of Adivasi men picked up by
the police await word of their loved ones*

The police have since arrested 63 Adivasis and launched a hunt for
absconding CMAS leader Nachika Linga. Even as posters offering a reward for
information about Linga flood Narayanpatna and the outlying villages,
additional police and paramilitary forces have been moved in. With the
Special Operations Group and the COBRA force monitoring all movement in the
area, this once sleepy hamlet is now a war zone. A climate of fear blankets
the entire region. In district headquarters Koraput, about 70 kilometres
from Narayanpatna, the local taxi association told TEHELKA that the police
had warned them against giving fares to outsiders. Of the six villages that
TEHELKA visited in Narayanpatna block, several were deserted. The handful of
Adivasi women who had stayed back said the other villagers had fled into the
jungles, fearing police harassment and arrests.

IN BHALIAPUT, Linga’s village, ostensibly as “part of search operations” the
forces burnt a portion of Linga’s house. When TEHELKA visited the village
two days later, the three Adivasis who remained in the village said the
police burnt the house after daubing it with enamel paint and dousing it in
kerosene. A few metres away from the scorched debris, TEHELKA found tins of
paint and an almost-empty kerosene bottle. Also strewn amidst the burnt
debris were medicines which had been kept there for the village anganwadi
centre, according to the Adivasis. In almost every house in the village,
stored food grains had been destroyed by the forces.

*‘ONLY FROM AN ADIVASI VILLAGE WOULD THE POLICE ABDUCT THE ELECTED
REPRESENTATIVE’*
 [image: image]

*CHETAN MADI, 27*

*FATHER INDRA MADI* *was taken away on October 16, 2008. Has not been seen
since. Habeas corpus petition filed in the Orissa High Court pending since
December 2008.*

A day after his father Indra Madi didn’t return home, panic gripped the
family. It wasn’t usual for the sarpanch to stay away. It took Chetan and
his family a whole day to piece together various accounts of eyewitnesses.
His father was on his way home after dropping off a relative and the
sarpanch of another village at her house. Between Tumsabadi village and his
own, Tentuliguda, villagers say Indra was stopped by five plainclothes
policemen on two motorbikes. A brief discussion later, Indra and his
motorbike were taken away by the policemen. A fortnight earlier, Indra had
petitioned the district collector regarding the case of a missing man from a
neighbouring village. More than a year later, Chetan is determined to find
his father. “Every time I go to the SP, he tells me my father was taken away
by Naxalites. But the villagers recognise the policemen who took him away.
My father was the sarpanch of the village, an elected government
representative. Does the police care at all?” asks Chetan.

Beyond the questions that arise about police excesses, what is perhaps of
greater concern is the campaign unleashed days after the firing. Two days
after the firing on 20 November, the police dubbed CMAS a Maoist front. Two
weeks later, they asked the Home Department to ban CMAS. Supporters of CMAS
who attempted to travel to the region have been arrested and called Maoists.
(One of the CMAS supporters arrested by the police is Tapan Kumar Mishra, a
popular civil rights activist in Orissa. Mishra had even contested the 2009
Assembly elections as an independent candidate. Mishra was hooded and
produced before the media.) The police also claimed to have recovered 150
Maoist uniforms, a powerful landmine, 2 kg of highly explosive material and
a VHF communication system.

BUT WHAT is the Chasi Mulia Adivasi Sangh? For more than 15 years, the CMAS
has been working in Koraput district on two linked issues: the illegal and
fraudulent grabbing of Adivasi land and alcohol addiction. With Adivasis’
rights over ancestral land and the prohibition of transfer of land to non-
Scheduled Tribes recognised by the Orissa Scheduled Area Transfer of
Immovable Property Act and the Orissa Land Regulations Act, the CMAS
mobilised Adivasis to take back land that they claim has been unfairly
appropriated by nontribals. Before the November 2009 firing, Adivasis told
TEHELKA that over 2,000 acres of land had been reclaimed by CMAS.
 [image: image]  *Empty vessels* Even basic household utensils were crushed
and broken by the CMAS

However, rather than approach the courts or the revenue department for this
reclamation, the CMAS in some cases did use violence. It destroyed the
houses of non-tribals, including extremely poor Scheduled Caste families. As
stories of attacks by CMAS activists spread, many Dalit families left
villages of their own accord. TEHELKA met several families who had left for
fear of CMAS attacks. Jihoya Kendruka – a man who was driven out of Domsil
village by the CMAS told TEHELKA that in May 2009, clashes had broken out
over CMAS’ attempts to reclaim land. Kendruka said the clashes left at least
one dead and the houses of both CMAS members and those opposing them utterly
destroyed.

The main force behind CMAS is Nachika Linga, currently on the police’s most
wanted list. Several colourful stories of Linga abound. A man who escaped
the shackles of slavery he had endured for 10 years from the time he was 6
years old. A man who used the story of his father’s alcoholism to motivate
Adivasis to give up drinking and implement a liquor ban in all villages
where the CMAS is active. A man who confronted an irregular anganwadi worker
by seating her on a specially decorated cot and carrying her over 6
kilometres back to her house. A man the police say is currently hiding among
the Maoists.

Interestingly, this isn’t the first time the CMAS has been accused of links
with the Maoists. In June 2006, Linga and 3 other leaders were arrested and
charged with being a front of the People’s War Group — which merged with the
Maoist Communist Centre to form the Communist Party of India (Maoist) — and
waging war against the State. The charges were examined and Linga and the
CMAS were acquitted in a November 2007 judgment in which GC Panigrahi,
Additional Sessions Judge at Jeypore called the CMAS “a silent political
movement against exploitation of Adivasis... it has none of the trappings of
waging war against the state...” The judge also cautioned against the
unwarranted use of the term ‘Maoist’, saying that “in a democratic society,
there is elbow room for all shades of opinion. In a democracy, holding
meetings, giving public speeches, carrying flags etc. are all part of the
game.”

Almost two years later, the charges have resurfaced. Vehement denials have
come – even from the Maoists. The CPI (Maoist) says that while they support
the CMAS, it is an independent organisation and there is no question of the
CMAS or its leaders being part of the Maoists. In effect, the voices of
organisations and individuals who agitate for their democratic rights are
being silenced through the simple tactic of branding them Maoists. This
practice is commonplace in neighbouring Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand, states
that have emerged as ground zero in the State’s battle against Maoists.
However, in Orissa, this tactic is unprecedented.

The Malkangiri Adivasi Sangh (MAS)— another Adivasi organisation fighting
fraudulent land alienation — told TEHELKA that arbitrary arrests have become
the order of the day in that district. “Like Koraput, the Maoists are active
in this district too. We understand that the security forces have to do
their work and arrest people behind the various Maoist attacks. But why
terrorise innocent Adivasis who have no association with the Maoists?” asks
Videsh Goud, a MAS activist who works in the Chitrakonda area of Malkangiri
district. They maintain a detailed list of people who have been arrested by
the police on charges of being Maoists. In May 2009, a fact-finding team
that included the late Dr K Balagopal, VS Krishna and other members of the
Andhra Pradesh Human Rights Forum also documented several cases of police
excesses. TEHELKA travelled to three villages and spoke to seven families
whose men had been taken away by the police and paramilitary forces.

*‘GO TELL THE PEOPLE IN DELHI THAT IF THEY BEHAVE LIKE THIS WITH US, WE WILL
THROW THEM OUT’*
 [image: image]

*JAGANNATH KHARA, 50*

*SON SADHURAM KHARA* *was taken away on 29 November 2009. Has no idea where
he is now or who took him away. Three police stations in the area, including
one across the border in Andhra, deny arresting or detaining his son.*

26-year-old Sadhuram Khara was at the weekly Sunday haat with another
relative when two people dressed in typical Adivasi clothes stopped him.
Even as his relative listened openmouthed, the men asked Sadhuram if he
spoke Telugu. When he said yes, they asked him to take his shirt off. As a
frightened Sadhuram complied, the men asked him about the hair on his chest
and his fit body. A minute later, Sadhuram was marched off as the relative
took to his heels. People in the haat later told Jagannath Khara that the
men who took his son away were from the Andhra Pradesh Greyhounds police.
Says a weeping Jagannath, “In their mind, my son did not fit the profile of
an Adivasi. But my son was young and worked in the fields. He knew Telugu
since the border is so close. How can any of this be a crime?” Villagers
talk of Sadhuram as a natural leader who helped people obtain NREGS job
cards and other work in the village.

WHAT MAKES the situation in Malkangiri worse is the fact that the anti-Naxal
Greyhounds of Andhra Pradesh carried out several arrests and illegal
detentions with no prior intimation or coordination with the Orissa police.
When TEHELKA spoke with Rajesh Chatria, inspector in charge of Chitrakonda
police station, about the disappearance of an Adivasi, Sadhuram Khara from a
village in his station limits, the inspector admitted that the local police
were rarely informed about Greyhound activities. “The procedure is that the
local police should be informed and that personnel from the local station
should accompany the team. Any arrests should be recorded at the local
police station,” says Chatria. He has no answers when it comes to Khara’s
disappearance and promises to register a missing person’s complaint. A day
after TEHELKA leaves Chitrakonda, Chatria turns Khara’s father away from the
station.

In a world overrun by complexities, recognising that different languages of
resistance can be spoken simultaneously is a requirement that receives
inadequate attention. What is critical, however, is the official acceptance
and recognition of the fact that some dialects of protest are not only legal
but are basic components of a democratic polity. Instead, the state is
dubbing all those who question it — including the Adivasis of remote
Narayanpatna and Malkangiri — as Maoists.

*(A reporter’s diary at tehelka.com details police attempts to detain,
harass and obstruct the TEHELKA team)*

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