"We are like those insects that come out only after rains. You will find us only where there is poverty, injustice. You want to get rid of us, get rid of poverty, get rid of injustice, get rid of hunger. And we will go away," explains Samar Mukherjee, formerly a school teacher and now a senior leader of Naxals, the militant Left movement that now has its footprint over a third of India.
We are sitting in a rather large tin shed (Mukherjee's temporary quarters) in one of the abandoned tea estates in north Bengal, in the eastern Himalayan foothills. My host tells me we are not very far from Naxalbari, the village from which the movement borrows its name.
It is April, and not surprisingly raining heavily. The rain drums down on the tin roof as Mukherjee uses a stick to draw an imaginary map on the ground. "See, from Nepal, to north Bengal to Jharkhand and parts of Bihar, down to Orissa, Chhattisgarh, and Andhra Pradesh, Left groups are active in areas where the poorest live," he elaborates. Suddenly he looks up at me, his face creased in a grin, "You will not find us on Wall Street".
Later I meet Mukherjee's lieutenants, young men and women who form bulk of the cadre of Left groups like Naxals. Most are dressed in green fatigues and almost all of them are carrying guns. Save for their guns and fatigues, they would be indistinguishable from other young men and women from that part of the world.
Most of them had lived in extreme poverty, struggled to manage two square meals a day, some of them had been victims of social injustice. "We have never had any problem recruiting. When we march through a region, hundreds approach us, wanting to join our movement. For some it is a way out of the miserable life they lead. Others want to fight, take revenge against their oppressors," says Mukherjee.
Tea gradens, like the one we are in, have been fertile recruitment grounds for Naxals for years. The workers in these gardens survive on paltry wages, their families often denied basic education or proper health facilities.
Several of Mukherjee's comrades are tea garden workers or children of tea garden workers. Most of the gardens are in secluded areas and not the easiest places to reach, thus they make ideal hiding places.
"Darjeeling tea is world famous. Those who sit in their fancy homes and offices and sip Darjeeling tea are hardly aware of the inhuman conditions in which tea garden workers lead their lives. For hundred years their lives have remained the same," says an almost angry Mukheree, for a moment losing his schoolteacher composure.
He goes quiet after the little outburst. Fiddles with his glasses, lights a Wills Navycut (I thought the cigarette had gone out of production, I felt as happy seeing it as one does when meeting an old friend after a long time), then takes a sip of the rum we had been drinking the past two hours.
And then the poise and the schoolteacher voice are back as suddenly as they had disappeared. "You see, Mr. Chakravarty, this is not about ideology. A lot of these people don't know anything about Marx or Mao. For generations, people here have led a life without basic amenities, a life without without dignity. We try to tell them they have as much right to this nation's resources as the next man.You have a right to education, right to health, and most importantly a right to life with dignity."
I ask him why follow the path of violence. "You can't get dignity or equality through the ballot box," says Mukherjee. "There is a system, a very effective one at that, in place which ensures that the poorest sections of the society remain poor. You need to completely uproot this system, it is not enough to introduce mild internal changes."
"We use violence sparingly, only when it is entirely unavoidable," he goes on to add. "You only get to hear about our violent acts. Any popular movement can't survive on terror."
Even government agencies reluctantly acknowledge the rapid spread of the Naxal movement. Several meetings have identified the "Naxal problem" as the number one threat to India's internal security.
In the tea gardens of Bengal and the villages beyond, the Naxal movement has gathered momentum and found new supporters because of the work they do with the common people. In a number of villages, Naxal activists run health care centres and schools, as is the case in states like Jharkhand, Chhatisgarh and Andhra Pradesh.
There is a conflict in perception. What the government agencies view, or at least publicly acknowledge, as a law and order problem is viewed by Mukherjee and his followers as a just battle against years of denial of basic rights and amenities. It is difficult, if not well-nigh impossible, to find fault with the latter view.
Over the years, I have travelled extensively through the so-called "Naxal belts. These are also areas which house India's poorest. People who go to sleep every night half fed. People who find themselves at the recieving end of inhuman treatment in the name of caste. People who live miles away from the nearest hospital or school, and a world away from you and me.
For years they have not had a voice. And now they have picked up a gun. The question we must ponder is what other choice do they have? What would I do, what would you have done in their position?
I don't know about you. For me the answer is easy.
We are sitting in a rather large tin shed (Mukherjee's temporary quarters) in one of the abandoned tea estates in north Bengal, in the eastern Himalayan foothills. My host tells me we are not very far from Naxalbari, the village from which the movement borrows its name.
It is April, and not surprisingly raining heavily. The rain drums down on the tin roof as Mukherjee uses a stick to draw an imaginary map on the ground. "See, from Nepal, to north Bengal to Jharkhand and parts of Bihar, down to Orissa, Chhattisgarh, and Andhra Pradesh, Left groups are active in areas where the poorest live," he elaborates. Suddenly he looks up at me, his face creased in a grin, "You will not find us on Wall Street".
Later I meet Mukherjee's lieutenants, young men and women who form bulk of the cadre of Left groups like Naxals. Most are dressed in green fatigues and almost all of them are carrying guns. Save for their guns and fatigues, they would be indistinguishable from other young men and women from that part of the world.
Most of them had lived in extreme poverty, struggled to manage two square meals a day, some of them had been victims of social injustice. "We have never had any problem recruiting. When we march through a region, hundreds approach us, wanting to join our movement. For some it is a way out of the miserable life they lead. Others want to fight, take revenge against their oppressors," says Mukherjee.
Tea gradens, like the one we are in, have been fertile recruitment grounds for Naxals for years. The workers in these gardens survive on paltry wages, their families often denied basic education or proper health facilities.
Several of Mukherjee's comrades are tea garden workers or children of tea garden workers. Most of the gardens are in secluded areas and not the easiest places to reach, thus they make ideal hiding places.
"Darjeeling tea is world famous. Those who sit in their fancy homes and offices and sip Darjeeling tea are hardly aware of the inhuman conditions in which tea garden workers lead their lives. For hundred years their lives have remained the same," says an almost angry Mukheree, for a moment losing his schoolteacher composure.
He goes quiet after the little outburst. Fiddles with his glasses, lights a Wills Navycut (I thought the cigarette had gone out of production, I felt as happy seeing it as one does when meeting an old friend after a long time), then takes a sip of the rum we had been drinking the past two hours.
And then the poise and the schoolteacher voice are back as suddenly as they had disappeared. "You see, Mr. Chakravarty, this is not about ideology. A lot of these people don't know anything about Marx or Mao. For generations, people here have led a life without basic amenities, a life without without dignity. We try to tell them they have as much right to this nation's resources as the next man.You have a right to education, right to health, and most importantly a right to life with dignity."
I ask him why follow the path of violence. "You can't get dignity or equality through the ballot box," says Mukherjee. "There is a system, a very effective one at that, in place which ensures that the poorest sections of the society remain poor. You need to completely uproot this system, it is not enough to introduce mild internal changes."
"We use violence sparingly, only when it is entirely unavoidable," he goes on to add. "You only get to hear about our violent acts. Any popular movement can't survive on terror."
Even government agencies reluctantly acknowledge the rapid spread of the Naxal movement. Several meetings have identified the "Naxal problem" as the number one threat to India's internal security.
In the tea gardens of Bengal and the villages beyond, the Naxal movement has gathered momentum and found new supporters because of the work they do with the common people. In a number of villages, Naxal activists run health care centres and schools, as is the case in states like Jharkhand, Chhatisgarh and Andhra Pradesh.
There is a conflict in perception. What the government agencies view, or at least publicly acknowledge, as a law and order problem is viewed by Mukherjee and his followers as a just battle against years of denial of basic rights and amenities. It is difficult, if not well-nigh impossible, to find fault with the latter view.
Over the years, I have travelled extensively through the so-called "Naxal belts. These are also areas which house India's poorest. People who go to sleep every night half fed. People who find themselves at the recieving end of inhuman treatment in the name of caste. People who live miles away from the nearest hospital or school, and a world away from you and me.
For years they have not had a voice. And now they have picked up a gun. The question we must ponder is what other choice do they have? What would I do, what would you have done in their position?
I don't know about you. For me the answer is easy.
1 comment:
Rajan, really enjoyed reading this one... Very relevant, given the times we live in. Everyday the gulf between the rich and the poor seems to be increasing. It is scary and very disturbing, so much of prosperity on one hand, and acute poverty on the other.
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