Shades of political violence

The story of Kannur in the Malabar district of Kerala raises some basic questions about the reality of Indian democracy, where politics of ballot and universal adult franchise comfortably co-exist with the politics of violence and murder. Of course, political violence has been the leitmotif of Kerala’s politics since the 1960s. The author, a journalist and political commentator, conducts interviews and field studies and adds his experiences to demonstrate how the nature of political violence has changed through the prism of Kannur.

This hitherto little-known town has been the centre of some of the worst political violence in recent years. The author suggests that this has, at least in part, to do with the district’s long history of vendetta as memorialised in traditional ballads. This theory has serious flaws; Kannur in particular and Kerala in general are reacting to a new situation where the paradigm of political competition has changed significantly and in more ominous ways.

Indeed, the author makes this very point in his analysis. The period between the 1960s and the mid-1980s, he recounts, saw violent contestations between the Left and the Congress. After that, the focus of party politics shifted to a new force, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS)/Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which challenged the Communist Party of India (Marxist) for domination. Direct clashes between the CPI(M) and RSS in Kannur since 1984 led to the killing of 93 people, 53 from the Sangh and 40 from among the Marxists.

The violence, thus, persists, though the dynamics of political contestation have changed. The Congress and the CPI(M) clashed on social issues. This was particularly true of Kannur, where upper castes dominated land ownership and caste repression was rampant, fertile ground for leftist hegemony. This “caste-class repression” may have been an important factor in making “Kannur, a place of violent people,” the author writes.

Interestingly, the author’s analysis points to an uncanny similarity between parties on the left and right of the political spectrum. “In Kerala, especially in undivided Kannur, the party structure and the ultimate loyalty it demanded from its members gave leaders such as P Krishna Pillai and A Gopalan, an opportunity to cultivate the values of sacrifice and devotion,” he writes. Cadre-based structures, instilling values of discipline and devotion, undergird the BJP/RSS too, which may explain its success in the state.

The entry of the RSS into Kerala’s politics changed the nature of the political competition in a manner that perpetuated and accentuated the underlying culture of violence, as any kind of religious polarisation is bound to do. The RSS had about 21 shakhas (units) in the state after Independence, four of them in Kannur. The organisation flourished in the shadow of the Emergency, although the first communal clash, at Thalassery, took place in

1971. “The Hindutva organisation gained more cadres as more riots, smaller ones, took place in the region, while the CPI(M) won the Muslim vote bank in Thalassery,” the author notes.

Although the book is Kannur-focused, the author has set his analysis against the broader canvas of Kerala’s politics, offering decent political profiles of important leaders, among them K Karunakaran of the Congress, A K Gopalan and Pinarayi Vijayan of the CPI(M), and O Rajagopal of the RSS/BJP. Mr Vijayan is Kerala’s current chief minister and comes from district of Kannur. Known for his impulsive moods, he is also credited with introducing the “Kannur model of politics” in the state.

How far this is a fair assessment remains an open question. The author avers that Kannur’s culture of political violence is declining, and that the allegations of CPI(M)-led killings are exaggerations that have grown after the BJP came to power at the Centre. It is propaganda that BJP President Amit Shah keeps on the boil with his frequent visits to the state, he says.

According to the author, attempts have been made to restore peace, but peace talks between political opponents have not succeeded, including talks between the chief minister and the RSSBJP leaders in 2018. The author thinks the police have much to answer for in the current situation.

Whether or not his analysis is valid, the real message of the book highlights is a fault-line in the practice of Indian democracy: Parties that participate in the democratic process are major perpetrators of violence as well. This is worrying. Nor is the Sangh’s anti-Left, antisecular movement restricted to Kerala; in West Bengal, it is targeting Mamata Banerjee’s Trinamool Congress and its overt pro-Muslim bias. Coupled with that eastern state’s deep roots in political violence, the prognosis is grim indeed.

The entry of the RSS into Kerala’s politics changed the nature of the political competition in a manner that perpetuated and accentuated the underlying culture of violence, as any kind of religious polarisation is bound to do

KANNUR

Inside India’s Bloodiest Revenge Politics Ullekh N P

Penguin Random House

232 pages; ~499