 |
|
In heart of India, a little-known civil war
Villagers are caught between two unforgiving sides: a communist insurgency that's left much of the country ungoverned, and a tough-as-nails 'peace movement.'
from the May 1, 2007 edition
Page 2 of 4
The Naxalites' ability to harass and terrorize, however, does have an effect on India's development. They can shut down certain roads at night and make a few districts like Dantewada off-limits for security reasons. But the greatest impact could be yet to come, as a growing thirst for electricity leads power companies toward the Naxalites' remote strongholds.
Some 85 percent of India's coal reserves come from the five states most affected by Naxalites. Since India is still heavily reliant on coal, "Naxalism puts almost half of India's total energy supply at serious political risk," says a report by the Institute for the Analysis of Global Security in Washington.
Rallying against Maoists
For now, however, the Naxalites' greatest impact is upon those who live in the broad, forested swaths of rural India that they command. And it is these people that Salwa Judum has sought to mobilize.
Though the origins of Salwa Judum are the subject of much debate, officials say it began in June 2005, when several village chiefs in Dantewada held meetings to rally their people against supporting the Naxalites. Soon after, the state government adopted the movement to help it spread.
The strategy is correct, says Mr. Sahni: By holding marches and meetings against Naxalites, Salwa Judum "cuts at the very roots of the Maoist strategy of creating a mass base to support the revolution."
But Naxalites have responded. Of the 144 people killed in Naxalite-related violence during the first three months of the year, 70 percent were from Chhattisgarh.
For his part, Mr. Karma, also a member of the Chhattisgarh assembly, likes to separate Salwa Judum from security operations in Dantewada, calling it a Gandhian peace movement.
Villagers caught in the middle
Many people in Dantewada, however have a different view.
Paikuram Jurri was one of the first people to flee to the safety Salwa Judum offers. In 2005, he left his village to go to one of the many roadside refugee camps that Salwa Judum was creating. In these camps, villagers were told, they would be safe.
"We tried to persuade our villagers, 'Let's all live together on the other side of the river [in the camps] and see if the Naxals can survive then,' " says Mr. Jurri, standing outside a general store in the Nelasnar camp and blinking in the harsh afternoon sun. "The Naxals were only there because of us – we fed them."
Two years later, many others have joined him in the camp – though not all by choice, he says. "Many of the others did not come, so we agreed to put force on them, otherwise they wouldn't understand." "After we came here, we also went out with Salwa Judum to burn villages," he says.
There is little question that the Naxalite network in Dantewada has been seriously damaged since the advent of Salwa Judum.
"They are on the back foot," says M.R. Ahire, additional superintendent of police for the nearby town of Bijapur.
RSS feed
