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This is an archive article published on August 18, 2004

Police count their dead wary of govt’s lifting of PWG ban

When three more portraits were brought into the room last month, the walls seemed to shrink further as the count went up to 55. None of thes...

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When three more portraits were brought into the room last month, the walls seemed to shrink further as the count went up to 55. None of these faces though will ring a bell anywhere because none ever made it to TV or a newspaper. But this shrine, complete with a marble column outside, has been built by policemen of Gadchiroli, a slice of Maharashtra between Andhra Pradesh and Chhattisgarh, in memory of colleagues killed over the years by Left-wing extremists.

From a room next to the photo gallery, Superintendent of Police Shirish Jain emerges with an Ak-M. Dressed in combat fatigues, he cradles the gun like a soldier. He has a busy day ahead. He has to ensure contingents of the State Reserve Police make it past the dense teak forests to Sironcha, Maharashtra’s last outpost near the border with Andhra.

‘‘The lifting of the ban on the People’s War Group in Andhra can have a serious fallout here. We have Assembly elections coming up in Maharashtra. With the pressure off in Andhra, Naxals will try their best to disrupt the poll process. I have to move my men quickly, position them at the border before it gets nasty,’’ says Jain. It sounds almost as if you are in a conflict zone. But this is true of all Naxalite-affected states, whether it’s Andhra Pradesh, Maharashtra, Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh, Orissa, Jharkhand or Bihar. Poorly paid and expected to make do with the dismal infrastructure on ground, policemen continue to suffer the most at the hands of Left-wing extremists—for they are seen as the ‘‘instruments of the state’’ that need to be destroyed.

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Andhra alone has lost nearly 500 securitymen in the last decade. Transfers to Naxal-affected areas are seen as ‘‘punishment postings’’ and many officials pull strings to stay away or spend minimum time.

>But Jain says he’s in no hurry to leave. He hunts Naxals by day and returns home to hear wife Indra, CEO of the Zilla Parishad, talk of development plans for Gadchiroli. ‘‘We know our jobs are not easy. But it has to be done. Anti-Naxal operations should feed development programmes. We have to create conditions and return institutions of civil governance to the rural areas. They have simply retreated. In many areas, people believe the police are the government,’’ he says. The life of one of his men, Jain says, could have been saved had hospitals in the district been better equipped and functional. The injured policeman died of blood loss on their way to the hospital because Nagpur was some 300 km from the scene of the Naxal attack.

In Aheri, near the Alapalli teak forests, Jain’s men ask him if he can get them an ‘‘anti-mine vehicle’’ — an armoured carrier — or, if he agrees, they could reinforce Gypsy bellies with more steel sheets to lessen the impact of landmines and IEDs. They say they could also do with some night-vision goggles.

Their dream wish: a helicopter to track down the Naxals. But obtaining these is not easy. It will require clearances, sanction, all very time-consuming. So Jain relies on the skill of his men: his C-60 commando force is split into 14 units, one to counter each of the 14 dalams (armed Naxal squads).

Across states battling Left-wing extremists, police officials confess that Central para-military forces are not so handy when it comes to anti-Naxal operations. ‘‘What we need are more police stations, not Central forces. If we strengthen the thana network, it will make a huge difference. We will be more visible in the interiors, it will instil local confidence. We need to recruit boys familiar with the local language. Intelligence has to be gathered locally to track down the Naxals,’’ officials point out.


They say it’s cheaper opening more thanas than raising a new para-military battalion. Besides, deploying a Central para-military battalion doesn’t mean you have deployed 900-plus men. The fighting force is much less, roughly 300-400 men, because the rest are support and related staff. In March this year, the Centre decided to deploy 23 CRPF battalions on a long-term basis in Naxalite-affected states for joint operations with state police forces. States were told to draw up plans and get back to the Centre. In the meantime, a note was sent to the Cabinet Committee on Security to exempt states from footing the bill for deployment of Central forces. In affected states, police officials say they desperately need a mechanism on the ground for better inter-state coordination. Police teams chasing Naxalites often turn back from the state’s border. To cross over to another state requires clearance. Plus, it’s risky. In the dense forests, an armed police team could be mistaken for Naxals by their counterparts across the border.

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Officials say lack of a clear Central stand is creating confusion all around: ‘‘On the one hand, you have a situation where the Government is being advised by the Home Ministry not to get involved in the peace dialogue with Left-wing extremists. On the other hand, the Centre is telling states you can engage them in talks at your end. To treat Left-wing extremism simply as a law and order problem and expect affected states to sort it out is exremely dangerous. We already have a messy situation.’’

The ‘‘messy situation’’ they refer to is the Andhra government’s decision to lift the ban on People’s War Group. In official circles, there’s also buzz that many of the officers who had been cracking down on the cadres have been shunted out.

With Andhra becoming a safe haven for the People’s War Group, other affected states like Chhattisgarh, Maharashtra and Orissa are expecting Naxal activities to heighten in the coming weeks. ‘‘They will use the Andhra ceasefire to re-equip themselves.’’

The first reports are already in. Weapons from an Orissa armoury looted recently have been distributed among People’s War cadres across Chhattisgarh and Maharashtra. In Gadchiroli, which serves as a passage for People’s War cadres moving from Andhra to Chhattisgarh — they hope to turn this into the liberated zone of Dandakaranya some day — this means more jungle treks for Jain and his men. They’re keeping their fingers crossed. No one wants the count of 55 in the photo gallery to go up.

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