Posted by: "Comitato Internazionale di
Sostegno alla Guerra Popolare in India "
May 9, 2015, marks one year since Dr G.N. Saibaba, lecturer
of English at Ramlal Anand College ,
Delhi University , was abducted by unknown men
on his way home from work. When her husband went missing and his cellphone did
not respond, Vasantha, Dr Saibaba’s wife, filed a missing person’s complaint in
the local police station. Subsequently the unknown men identified themselves as
the Maharashtra Police and described the abduction as an arrest.
Why did they abduct him in this way when they could easily
have arrested him formally, this professor who happens to be wheelchair-bound
and paralysed from his waist downwards since he was five years old? There were
two reasons: First, because they knew from their previous visits to his house
that if they picked him up from his home on the Delhi University campus they
would have to deal with a crowd of angry people—professors, activists and
students who loved and admired Professor Saibaba not just because he was a
dedicated teacher but also because of his fearless political worldview. Second,
because abducting him made it look as though they, armed only with their wit
and daring, had tracked down and captured a dangerous terrorist. The truth is
more prosaic. Many of us had known for a long time that Professor Saibaba was
likely to be arrested. It had been the subject of open discussion for months.
Never in all those months, right up to the day of his abduction, did it ever occur
to him or to anybody else that he should do anything else but face up to it
fair and square. In fact, during that period, he put in extra hours and
finished his PhD on the Politics of the Discipline of Indian English Writing.
Why did we think he would be arrested? What was his crime?
In September 2009, the then home minister P. Chidambaram
announced a war called Operation Green Hunt in what is known as India ’s Red
Corridor. It was advertised as a clean-up operation by paramilitary forces
against Maoist ‘terrorists’ in the jungles of Central
India . In reality it was the official name for what had so far
been a scorched-earth battle being waged by state-sponsored vigilante militias
(the Salwa Judum in Bastar and unnamed militias in other states). The mandate
was to clear the forests of its troublesome residents so that mining and
infrastructure-building corporations could move ahead with their stalled
projects. The fact that signing over Adivasi homelands to private corporations
is illegal and unconstitutional did not bother the UPA government of the time.
(The present government’s new Land Acquisition Act proposes to exalt that
lawlessness into law.) Thousands of paramilitary troops accompanied by
vigilante militias invaded the forests, burning villages, murdering villagers
and raping women. Tens of thousands of Adivasis were forced to flee from their
homes and hide in the jungle for months under the open sky. The backlash
against this brutality was that hundreds of local people signed up to join the
People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army (PLGA) raised by the CPI (Maoist) who former
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh famously described as India ’s “single-largest internal
security threat”. Even now, the whole region remains convulsed by what can only
be called a civil war.
As is the case with any protracted war, the situation has
become far from simple. While some in the resistance continue to fight the good
fight, others have become opportunists, extortionists and ordinary criminals.
It is not always easy to tell one group from another, and that makes it easy to
tar them all with the same brush. Horrible atrocities have taken place. One set
of atrocities is called Terrorism and the other, Progress.
In 2010 and 2011, when Operation Green Hunt was at its most
brutal, a campaign against it began to gather speed. Public meetings and
rallies took place in several cities. As word of what was happening in the
forest spread, the international media began to pay attention. One of the main
mobilisers of this public and entirely un-secret campaign against Operation
Green Hunt was Dr Saibaba. The campaign was, at least temporarily, successful.
The government was shamed into pretending that there was no such thing as
Operation Green Hunt, that it was merely a media creation. (Of course, the
assault on the Adivasi homelands continues, largely unreported, because now it
is an Operation Without a Name. This week, on May 5, 2015, Chhavindra Karma,
son of Salwa Judum founder Mahendra Karma, who was killed in a Maoist ambush,
announced the inauguration of Salwa Judum-II. This despite the Supreme Court
judgement declaring Salwa Judum-I illegal and unconstitutional and ordering
that it be disbanded.)
In Operation No-Name, anybody who criticises or impedes the
implementation of state policy is called a Maoist. Thousands of Dalits and
Adivasis, thus labelled, are in jail absurdly charged with crimes like sedition
and waging war against the state under the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act
(UAPA)—a law which would make any intelligent human being bust a gut laughing
if only the uses to which it is being put were not so tragic. While villagers
languish for years in prison, with no legal help and no hope of justice, often
not even sure what crime they have been accused of, the state has turned its attention
to what it calls ‘OGWs’—Overground Workers—in the cities.
Determined not to allow a repeat of the situation it found
itself in earlier, the Union ministry of home affairs spelled out its
intentions clearly in its 2013 affidavit filed in the Supreme Court. It said:
“The ideologues and supporters of the CPI (Maoist) in cities and towns have
undertaken a concerted and systematic propaganda against the state to project
it in a poor light...it is these ideologues who have kept the Maoist movement
alive and are in many ways more dangerous than the cadres of the People’s
Liberation Guerrilla Army.”
Enter Dr Saibaba.
We knew he was a marked man when several clearly planted,
hyperbolic stories about him began to appear in the papers. (When they don’t
have real evidence, their next best option—tried and tested—is to create a
climate of suspicion around their quarry.)
On September 12, 2013,
his home was raided by 50 policemen armed with a search warrant for stolen
property from a magistrate in Aheri, a small town in Maharashtra .
They did not find any stolen property. Instead they took away (stole?) his
property. His personal laptop, hard disks and pen drives. Two weeks later,
Suhas Bawache, the investigating officer for the case, rang Dr Saibaba and
asked him for the passwords to access the hard disks. He gave it to them. On
January 9, 2014, a team of policemen interrogated him at his home for several
hours. And on May 9, they abducted him. That same night they flew him to Nagpur and from there drove him to Aheri and then back to Nagpur with hundreds of
policemen escorting the convoy of jeeps and mine-proof vehicles. He was
incarcerated in the Nagpur
central jail in its notorious ‘Anda Cell’, adding his name to the three hundred
thousand undertrials who crowd our country’s prisons. In the midst of all the
high theatre, his wheelchair was damaged. Dr Saibaba is what is known as “90
per cent disabled”. In order to prevent his physical condition from further
deteriorating, he needs constant care, physiotherapy and medication. Despite
this, he was thrown into a bare cell (where he still remains) with nobody to
assist him even to use the bathroom. He had to crawl around on all fours. None
of this would fall under the definition of torture. Of course not. The great
advantage the state has over this particular prisoner is that he is not equal
among prisoners. He can be cruelly tortured, perhaps even killed, without
anybody having to so much as lay a finger on him.
The
next morning’s papers in Nagpur
had front-page pictures of the heavily armed team of Maharashtra Police proudly
posing with their trophy—the dreaded terrorist, Professor pow, in his damaged
wheelchair.
He
has been charged under the UAPA, Sections 13 (taking part
in/advocating/abetting/inciting the commission of unlawful activity), Section
18 (conspiring/attempting to commit a terrorist act), Section 20 (being a
member of a terrorist gang or organisation), Section 38 (associating with a
terrorist organisation with intention to further its activities) and Section 39
(inviting support and addressing meetings for the purpose of encouraging
support for a terrorist organisation.) He has been accused of giving a computer
chip to Hem Mishra, a JNU student, to deliver to Comrade Narmada of the CPI
(Maoist). Hem Mishra was arrested at the Ballarshah railway station in August
2013 and is in Nagpur
jail along with Dr Saibaba. The three others accused with them in this
‘conspiracy’ are out on bail.
Another
of the serious offences listed in the chargesheet is that Dr Saibaba is the
joint secretary of the Revolutionary Democratic Front (RDF), an organisation
that is banned in Orissa and Andhra Pradesh where it is suspected to be a
Maoist ‘front’ organisation. It is not banned in Delhi . Or Maharashtra .
The president of RDF is the well-known poet Varavara Rao who lives in Hyderabad .
Dr
Saibaba’s trial has not begun. When it does, it is likely to take months, if
not years. The question is, can a person with a 90 per cent disability survive
in those abysmal prison conditions for so long?
In
the year he’s been in prison, his physical condition has deteriorated
alarmingly. He is in constant, excruciating pain. (The jail authorities have
helpfully described this as “quite normal” for polio victims.) His spinal cord
has degenerated. It has buckled and is pushing up against his lungs. His left
arm has stopped functioning. The cardiologist at the local hospital where the
jail authorities took him for a test has asked that he be given an angioplasty
urgently. If he does undergo an angioplasty, given his condition and the
conditions in prison, the prognosis is dire. If he does not, and remains incarcerated,
it is dire too. Time and again the jail authorities have disallowed him
medication that is vital not just to his well-being, but to his survival. When
they do allow the medicines, they disallow the special diet that is meant to go
with it.
Despite
the fact that India
is party to international covenants on disability rights, and Indian law
expressly forbids the incarceration of a person who is disabled as an
undertrial for a prolonged period, Dr Saibaba has been denied bail twice by the
sessions court. On the second occasion, bail was denied based on the jail
authorities demonstrating to the court that they were giving him the specific,
special care a person in his condition required. (They did allow his family to
replace his wheelchair.) Dr Saibaba, in a letter from prison, said that the day
the order denying him bail came, the special care was withdrawn. Driven to
despair, he went on a hunger strike. Within a few days, he was taken to
hospital unconscious.
For the sake of argument, let’s leave the decision about
whether Dr Saibaba is guilty or innocent of the charges levelled against him to
the courts. And let’s, for just a moment, turn our attention solely to the
question of bail, because for him that is quite literally a question of life
and death.
No matter what the charges against him are, should Professor
Saibaba get bail? Here’s a list of a few well-known public figures and
government servants who have been given bail.
On April 23, 2015, Babu Bajrangi, convicted and sentenced to
life imprisonment for his role in the 2002 Naroda Patiya massacre in which 97
people were murdered in broad daylight, was released on bail by the Gujarat
High Court for an “urgent eye operation”. This is Babu Bajrangi in his own
words speaking about the crime he committed: “We didn’t spare a single Muslim
shop, we set everything on fire, we set them on fire and killed them—hacked,
burnt, set on fire.... We believe in setting them on fire because these
bastards don’t want to be cremated. They’re afraid of it.”—‘After
killing them, I felt like Maharana Pratap’ in Tehelka,
September 1, 2007
Eye operation, huh? Well maybe on second thoughts it really
is urgent that he replace the murderous lenses he seems to view the world
through with something less stupid and less dangerous.
On July 30, 2014, Maya
Kodnani, a former minister of the Modi government in Gujarat, convicted and
serving a 28-year sentence for being the ‘kingpin’ of that same Naroda Patiya
massacre, was granted bail by the Gujarat High Court. Kodnani is a medical
doctor and says she suffers from intestinal tuberculosis, a heart condition,
clinical depression and a spinal problem. Her sentence has been suspended.
Amit Shah, also a former
minister in the Modi government in Gujarat ,
was arrested in July 2010, accused of ordering the extrajudicial killing of
three people—Sohrabuddin Sheikh, his wife Kausar Bi and Tulsiram Prajapati. The
CBI produced phone records showing that Shah was in constant touch with the
police officials who held the victims in illegal custody before they were
murdered, and that the number of phone calls between him and those police
officials spiked sharply during those days. Amit Shah was released on bail
three months after his arrest. (Subsequently, after a series of disturbing and
mysterious events, he has been let off altogether.) He is currently the
president of the BJP, and the right hand man of Prime Minister Narendra Modi.
On May 22, 1987, 42 Muslim men rounded up in a truck by the
Provincial Armed Constabulary (PAC) were shot dead in cold blood on the
outskirts of Hashimpura and their bodies were dumped in a canal. Nineteen
members of the PAC were accused in the case. All of them were allowed to
continue in service, receiving their promotions and bonuses like everybody
else. Thirteen years later, in the year 2000, 16 of them surrendered (three had
died). They were released on bail immediately. A few weeks ago, in March 2015,
all 16 were acquitted for lack of evidence.
Hany Babu, a teacher in Delhi University
and a member of the Committee for the Defence and Release of Saibaba, was
recently able to meet Dr Saibaba for a few minutes in hospital. At a press
conference on April 23, 2015, that went more or less unreported, Hany Babu
described the circumstances of the meeting: Dr Saibaba, on a saline drip, sat
up in bed and spoke to him. A security guard stood over him with an AK-47
pointed at his head. It was his duty to make sure the prisoner did not run away
on his paralysed legs.
This is what we put up with, what we vote for, what we agree
to.
This is us.
Also available in Outlook.
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