Clutching their bows and arrows, a group of tribesmen and young boys mill around outside a crude refugee camp in the forests of central India. Prompted by politicians and prodded by the police, more than 46,000 people have fled their villages in the past nine months to join a new campaign against Maoist guerrillas, or Naxalites, who have added misery and terror to their crushing poverty.
"Twenty-five years ago, the Naxalites promised us land, they promised us a better life, but they have given us nothing," said 34-year-old Kiche Rama. "All they are doing is killing us."
"All the tribals here are very angry, so angry that if we end up finding a Naxal among us, we will straight away kill him."
The Naxalites, named after a town in West Bengal state where the movement was launched in 1967, pretend to be latter-day Robin Hoods, robbing from the rich to give to the poor.
For a while, they were popular in one of India's poorest and least developed regions -- but today it is the very people the Naxalites claim to represent who have taken up bows and arrows to defend themselves.
More and more tribesmen are fleeing to ill-protected camps run by the anti-Maoist Salwa Judum (Campaign for Peace) movement in Chhattisgarh state.
"Before, we were a little afraid because they had guns," said Rama, a long, sharp knife in his hand. "But now the government is with us. They told us 'pick up your bows and arrows and we will be with you'. Now we are confident."
Behind him, 3,000 people shelter from the blazing sun under blue tarpaulins at a new camp at Dornapal in southern Chhattisgarh, many sleeping in the open on a carpet of leaves.
Bows and arrows lean against every tree, plastic bags carry their few belongings. A paramilitary camp over the road offers a degree of protection to this camp, but not to those left behind in the villages. Other camps are virtually unguarded.
"The Naxalites say they will kill anyone who has joined the Salwa Judum, they will murder our families, they will burn our houses and take everything we have," said Bardkham Raja, a sarpanch, or village head, who fled his village last month.
"If you have more cattle, they take it from you and sometimes redistribute it. If you have more money they just take it away. If you complain, they beat you or kill you.
"That is why we don't want to live there."
The state government has high hopes the Salwa Judum campaign could help to finish nearly four decades of Maoist insurgency.
But all the campaign has achieved so far is to turn southern Chhattisgarh into a virtual war zone, with civilians in the firing line as the Maoists fight back ruthlessly.
People are dying almost every day, 55 in a landmine attack on a truckload of Salwa Judum members on February 28.
The civilian death toll in Chhattisgarh -- just one of nine states where Maoists operate may have already overtaken last year's official tally of 127 people.
"It is a cause for concern and we are trying to protect people as best we can," Chhattisgarh Chief Minister Raman Singh told Reuters. "But the Salwa Judum is probably the biggest movement ever against Naxalism, and if it succeeds the whole Naxal problem can be finished in this country."
An ill-trained and thinly deployed police force, backed by 4,000 paramilitary troops, are in no shape to end the killings in Chhattisgarh, with tens of thousands of square kilometres either under total Maoist control or dominated by the rebels.
"The first duty of the state is to protect its citizens," said Ajay Sahni of the Institute for Conflict Management, a New Delhi think tank. "It cannot put the lives of its citizens at risk."
"Provoking the people to resist the terrorists in regions that are immensely under-policed will only invite retaliation and untold suffering on the heads of the innocent," he said.
In Dornapal, 18-year-old Raju Sori wants revenge on the Maoists for killing his father seven years ago. He has joined up as a "Special Police Officer", a ragbag militia recruited by the authorities in an attempt to level the playing field in the intelligence war.
Hundreds of recruits have been trained, and guns promised -- but only a few dozen seem to have been distributed so far. Not knowing who to trust, police admit they are worried the weapons could end up in Naxal hands.
The Indian government has tried similar schemes in the past to combat insurgencies in Punjab and Kashmir, recruiting locals to act as policemen or to defend villages in more secure areas.
But it is reckless and irresponsible to put boys like Sori in the frontline in an area dominated by the rebels, says Sahni.
All Sori has received so far is a small piece of white cloth pinned to his shorts, with his name and "S.P.O" written in biro. He carries a small home-made baton painted light blue.
"With the security forces, we will go into the jungle and chase them away," he said. "We want to end the Naxalites."
It may be a vain hope, with the police and paramilitary forces unable to even set foot in what they call the "Red Zone", a Maoist safe haven covering 12,000 square km (4,600 square miles) in the Abujh Marh (Unknown Forest).
Human rights groups such as the leftist People's Union for Civil Liberties say villagers are being forced to join the Salwa Judum, their houses and crops burnt, and allege that up to a 100 people may have been killed by the activists in the past few months.
The government denies this, but officials admit it is impossible to be neutral in the villages of southern Chhattisgarh any more.
"We've been going from village to village asking people to join the movement," said Salwa Judum leader and Congress party politician Mahendra Karma. "If you want to join, come with us. If not, you are with the Maoists. There is no in between here." It is not a choice every villager revels in.
"People here are caught in a vice, either by the Maoists or the politicians," said Swayam Nagesh, a sarpanch from the village of Eraboru. "No one will allow us to live freely."
Comments
Comments are closed.