Of poverty and extremism

It was about 5-6 years back. A routine office work had taken my friend to Jhargram, 190kms from Kolkata and on the main line from Kolkata to Tatanagar (Jamshedpur) on South Eastern railway. Travelers on the Kolkata-Tatanagar route know that Jhargram is where adivasi's get into the train and are a familiar sight with their bundles of cut wood. Often one sees youngsters going to Kolkata to take some exams for government jobs. My friend (let me call him Ani) was working in the IT department of a government owned company. By nature Ani was a friendly and gregarious person. On his visits to Jhargram, he would be put up in the Rajbaari (translates to "King's palace"), where even today one can get a room for Rs550 per night and have a retinue of 5 servants waiting on you.

During this visit, Ani had seen newspaper items about Naxal presence in Jhargram and some associated killings in the region. He asked a local district officer, an adivasi by origin and a very hard working fellow about Naxals. "Babu, do you want to see one of the training camps?", was the response of Murmu. Ani was not only keen at the prospect but also excited. He extended his stay by a day and both of them headed into the jungles the next day.

Deep in the jungles in Salboni (most of the journey was undertaken in a car), inside a hut Ani came face to face with 5-6 young girls. His guess is they were aged anywhere between 12-19 years. His initial questions on why they were not in school etc was met with hostile looks till Murmu (who was also acting as the interpreter) explained to them that the "babu meant no harm". Murmu then asked the girls to get some tea for the babu and that broke the proverbial ice.

After tea, Ani was shown cache of arms used for training, which was kept in a metal trunk underneath a bed. It had arms ranging from small daggers to country made pistols and rifles. As the visit came to an end, Ani proffered the girls two Rs100 notes. While they were obviously happy at this unforeseen bounty, there was something that was bothering them. Murmu clarified, "Babu, what will they do with hundred rupee notes here. Nobody will be able to change it for them. In the villages deep inside the jungle, people have not seen or used notes of such high denomination." Ani then gave whatever money he had in small denominations much to the happiness of the girls and left.

On the way back, Ani asked Murmu, "Are you involved with them?" Murmu replied, "I am not involved with them now. But I have seen the abject poverty and exploitation at close hand. These tribal people are honest people. So from time to time I give them any useful information I may have about police raids etc." Murmu had friends in the police department and used to get information about impending police raids. Similarly he tips off the local newspapers and journalists as well when there is a story to be told.

Throughout the return journey to Kolkata, Ani could not forget the images of the girls who did not know what to do with hundred rupee notes since it was too large a denomination for them. He had spent over five times that money for his two nights in Jhargram Rajbaari. He often thinks about it even today when he reads about the rising Naxal presence in the country. He is not surprised. Given the linkages and infiltration within the administration, the abject poverty and exploitation, the Naxals will always find willing recruits to join them in their deathly dance of violence and retribution. Another form of exploitation? Who knows?

(Note: The events mentioned above are true and based on my discussions with Ani (name changed).)