Travails of Bastar’s Fighters who weren’t
SUKMA (CHHATTISGARH): August 15, 2022 was supposed to change 21-year-old Jitendra Kumar Kunjam’s life. As he waited in front of a computer screen in Sukma, he thought of the promise the day held — he could become a policeman, join a specialised force that fights insurgency in Bastar; finally land a job that offers a steady income for life.
When the list of those that had qualified for the first batch for the Bastar Fighters popped up on the computer screen, however, Kunjam’s name was not in it. And this omission took a heavier toll than he imagined at the time — instead of giving him a life without financial stress, it became the day Kunjam was cut off from his home, unable to return to his village Jagargunda, deep in the forest, for fear of Maoist retribution.
In 2020, the Chhattisgarh government decided to raise a special police unit, Bastar Fighters, to combat Left-wing extremism (LWE) in the region. Recruits for this force, the government said, would be drawn from the seven districts in Bastar division — Bastar, Kanker, Kondagaon, Sukma, Narayanpur, Bijapur and Dantewada. The home department announced a total of 2,100 posts, 300 from each district.
In an area that has been torn by State vs Maoist violence for over four decades, jobs are scarce, and 53,336 applications came in. A physical test was the first step, and 5,405 people (4,689 male, 707 female and 9 third gender candidates) made it to a written examination held on July 17,2022. Of the 5,322 who appeared for the exam, 3,969 candidates made it for interviews held between August 1 and August 10, 2022.
On August 15, 2022, the results were announced, and 2,057 candidates made it across the seven districts.
For most of the 51,000-odd who failed, there was disappointment. But applicants from close to 100 villages, where the Maoist writ runs deep, were marked out as people who had dared to apply for a police post — a decision punishable by death, and one that translated into a life in exile.
A cage within a conflict
Kunjam had only known a life in a cage — one that he always wanted to escape. He was born and brought up in Jagargunda, a village which has particular significance in the conflict in Sukma as the crown jewel in a district at the epicentre of conflict. Jagargunda was once a trading station, at the tri-junction of Dantewada, Bijapur and Sukma, with its village haat a famous tamarind market. In the late 2000s, during the height of the Salwa Judum (between 2005 and 2011, the state appointed and armed tribal people to battle Maoists, a move that exacerbated the conflict and caused widespread displacement), villagers escaping the violence took refuge in Jagargunda, living in makeshift camps that became permanent fixtures. To protect them from the Maoists, the village was given a gate and fenced with barbed wire. Even today, the gate opens at 6am and shuts at sunset, with police manning watchtowers in every corner.
In his small room at the Sukma district headquarters, 60km away from Jagargunda, Kunjam shares a room with three other men. All of them applied for the Bastar Fighters and failed to make the cut. “I cannot go home, because I know if I get caught, I will be punished by the Maoists,” Kunjam said.
For close to a year, he has found work as a sample collector at a pathology laboratory in Sukma town, earning ₹2,500 a month. He misses his parents. But his refusal to go home is the only way he can protect them. “In all this time, I have only been to the village once, when friends in the police told me a Road Opening Party was going to the village. I went with them, but returned in a few hours,” he said.
Adamma Markam, a member of the Suka zila panchayat, said that there were 17 candidates from Jagargunda who have been doing menial work for the past year. “They are working in towns like Dornapal, Sukma and Konta. Some work in a photostat shop, others in petrol pumps, and some as daily wage labourers. The government must come forward to protect them and give them some work. This problem exists in at least 100 villages where Maoists still have great influence. It was an entirely predictable problem, and something the government must factor in next time,” Markam said.
In one of these villages that HT visited, 60km from Sukma, a father did not allow us to meet his son who did not make the Bastar Fighters cut. “No one here knows that he applied for the Bastar Fighters, and I don’t let him out of the house. But people are now finding out, and I cannot take chances. I will send him away to work at a petrol pump in Jagdalpur soon,” the man said.
Once a solution, now a problem
Senior police officers said that the Bastar Fighters was conceived for two fundamental reasons. The first was tactical: young people drawn from the villages have an intrinsic understanding of the geography and demography of Bastar, a factor that is often crucial to success or failure in an operational area that is densely forested, and has scant communication networks. The second was strategic: the recruitment would bring employment for residents of interior villages, setting up role models for future generations, bringing the youth closer to the state government and away from the influence of the Maoists.
But senior police and intelligence officers admit that the policy failed to conceive a safety valve for those that did not make the cut, and were now in danger.
“Everything is more complicated in Bastar, and this should have been thought of. It is not a surprise. When the Bastar Fighters was announced, the Maoists put out pamphlets warning those who applied of consequences. After the results were announced, some candidates were threatened by Maoist area committees. Some applicants have been attacked when they dared to go home, even when there was a death in the family. Relatives have been threatened or excommunicated, and property confiscated. It is a real problem,” an intelligence officer said, asking not to be named.
A second police officer, based in Bastar, put the number of candidates from villages they cannot return to at between 500 and 700. “It is difficult to track all of them because they are keeping their identities hidden, doing menial jobs. But we know it’s around these many that have not returned home across the seven districts. Candidates are vulnerable if they make the cut or not, but at least those that find work have the security of becoming police officials that comes with its own security. The Maoists are ruthless, and kill people for joining the police,” the officer said.
Over the past five years, state government data shows that 337 Maoists, 2,018 security personnel, and 356 civilians have been killed in Chhattisgarh.
P Sundar Raj, inspector general of police (Bastar), said the police was pleasantly surprised by the number of applicants they received for the 2,100 posts advertised. “But since the selection came through a merit list, it is natural that more than 51,000 applicants didn’t make it to the final selection. It is true that some of them have security concerns and we will counsel and assist them, so they can take care of themselves and their families,” he said.
The first police officer quoted above said the state government must find a solution. “First, recruitments should be done across the police and other civil departments en masse. This will help not only with employment but also with the narrative that the government is only interested in arming locals against Maoists, who are also locals. Second, those left out must be screened carefully, and all those from core areas have to be roped in for skill training programmes. A special branch should be created in each collectorate for these candidates,” the officer said.
A clear danger is the risk of these candidates being coerced into the Maoist fold.
“They are worried about their own safety and that of their families. It is a constant Maoist tactic to use this vulnerability and use it to their advantage. The government must act quickly to prevent this from happening,” the first officer added.
Tribal leader Soni Sori says that, over the past few months, she has seen a stream of failed applicants reach out to her for help. “There is a sense of abandonment, and those that failed to make the cut are now desperately looking for work. But it is a difficult situation and I don’t know what to do. I will take this issue to senior officials in Raipur,” Sori said.
Back in his one-room flat in Sukma, Kunjam is a caught between two equally frightening scenarios. “The best case is that I apply again and get the job. Then I can move my family to where I am posted. But if I don’t get it, I could anger the Maoists even more, and my family will be under a greater threat. If I don’t apply at all, I will only find menial work, because people don’t want to employ someone the Maoists have on their hit list,” Kunjam said.
“For now, this is my life.”