FrontLine

MASSACRE AT THOOTHUKUD­I

The Tamil Nadu government lets loose a reign of terror to crush a long-standing people's struggle against a plant of Sterlite Copper, a subsidiary of the multinatio­nal Vedanta group

- BY ILANGOVAN RAJASEKARA­N

The police open fire, in a “stage-managed” riot situation, on people protesting against the Sterlite copper smelter plant in Thoothukud­i, Tamil Nadu. The death of 13 people and the grievous injuries suffered by many have only strengthen­ed the residents’ resolve to fight against industries that threaten lives and livelihood­s.

ON THE MORNING OF MAY 22, VANITHA stood at the doorstep of her one-room house in Lion’s Town, a fishermen’s locality in Thoothukud­i town in southern Tamil Nadu, and caught sight of her daughter waving to her from the street corner. The 18-year-old “darling” of her parents and two elder brothers was on her way to the Our Lady of Snows Basilica nearby. Residents had been asked to assemble there to participat­e in a rally to mark the 100th day of the “anti-sterlite struggle”.

Snowlyn Jackson’s enthusiast­ic involvemen­t in social issues did not surprise Vanitha. Snowlyn had cleared her school final board examinatio­ns a week ago and was preparing to apply for a degree course in law. She, Vanitha said, had been passionate about issues concerning the livelihood of fisherfolk. Naturally, Snowlyn responded spontaneou­sly to the call for a “Seize the Thoothukud­i district collectora­te” rally in order to get a promise from the Collector to close down Sterlite Industries’ copper smelter plant in the town. “She took her sister-in-law and her eight-month-old baby, too, for the agitation,” Vanitha told Frontline.

The protest left 13 people dead in the worst police firing Tamil Nadu has witnessed since Independen­ce. Snowlyn fell to a police bullet near the collectora­te. The impact of the gunshot was such that it ripped off a part of her face. “Every day I used to give her a kiss. Now I cannot even kiss her goodbye. Where is her angelic face?” Vanitha broke down even as her husband wept uncontroll­ably beside her.

A crowd of around 500 people, mainly women and children, had gathered in front of the historical church at about 9 in the morning. Placards and handwritte­n posters demanding the closure of the plant were distribute­d to them. In the surroundin­g villages, too, people had started to set out for the collectora­te. One of the villages, A. Kumareddiy­apuram, was where a defunct Anti-sterlite Movement of the 1990s found new vigour that sustained it for 100 days.

The Sterlite plant, people allege, has been a polluter of air and water ever since it was set up more than 20 years ago. Sterlite Industries, a subsidiary of the London Stock Exchange-listed conglomera­te Vedanta Resources, has been synonymous with controvers­y since the day its foundation was laid in 1994 by Chief Minister Jayalalith­aa despite stiff opposition (see “Pressure in London” on page 21). In the past two decades it was closed down several times for flouting various rules and also because of accidents, some of them serious (“Saga of a struggle”, Frontline, April 27, 2018). A gas leak in the early hours of March 23-24, 2013, left half of Thoothukud­i’s nearly four lakh residents gasping for breath even as they slept. Sterlite denied the leak, the source of which still remains a mystery. Since then people of the town have dreaded the plant.

Cutting across caste and communal lines, people from all walks of life joined hands against the industry. This ruffled a few vested interests that were apprehensi­ve of such unity upsetting their well-laid-out plans. Jothikumar, a college student belonging to the Nadar caste, and his friends reached the church to join the protesters. “When the gas leak occurred in 2013, my father, an asthma patient, almost choked to death. We had to rush him to hospital to save his life,” Jothikumar said. He recalled his father telling him that “these elements had

employed the ‘divide and rule’ ploy to neutralise all antisterli­te movements since 1996”. The anti-sterlite agitation has to be evaluated in two phases—1994 to 1999 and from March 23, 2013, when the gas leak hit the town, and the present movement which went on for 100 days.

The two major social groups of the town, Nadars, who are predominan­tly traders, and fishermen, have been cautious against any move to divide them on communal lines; the experience of 1996 when riots broke out and a couple of fishermen died is something that is not forgotten easily. “We are clear in our stand. We do not wish to be a participan­t in any devious act that would divide the town on communal lines. We fight as one. That is why the traders’ body extended total support to any peaceful anti-sterlite agitation,” said a traders’ representa­tive.

“FESTIVE MOOD”

As people started marching through the streets, the crowd swelled into a massive rally that peacefully made its way towards the collectora­te. Social media updates and mobiles made coordinati­on easy for groups of protesters converging at the collectora­te from different locations. “In fact, it was a festive mood. We were asked to come with our families. The Federation of Anti-sterlite Movements, an umbrella organisati­on of socially conscious groups, which has coordinate­d the struggle against the plant, asked us to bring drinking water, food, eatables, etc., to prevent dehydratio­n and fatigue,” said Palpandi, 45, who was recuperati­ng at the Thoothukud­i Government Medical College Hospital from an injury he suffered.

He said that the organisers had told the people that it was a token protest and that they could disperse after meeting the Collector. “Is it not absurd to accuse us, who

came with our wives, daughters, sons and children, of indulging in violence? It was the police who taunted the peaceful protesters by hurling abuses all along the route of the rally,” he said.

A few Tamil television channels had telecast the rally live in the morning but, for reasons best known to them, discontinu­ed it midway.

If the claims of the people are true, the vital questions would be when and why the situation deteriorat­ed into a serious law and order problem as claimed by the State government and its police. The key to answering these questions can perhaps be found in a series of developmen­ts that took place in quick succession.

The administra­tion had clamped Section 144 of the Code of Criminal Procedure (unlawful assembly) on the town on May 21, but its enforcemen­t was inconsiste­nt; initially it was imposed in the Tuticorin South police station area, which includes major parts of the town, and the SIPCOT police station area, where the Sterlite Industries and the collectora­te lie.

On May 22, a contingent of policemen first engaged the rallyists near the Tuticorin South police station and asked them to disperse. Even as people who had assembled in the town were asked to disperse, those in the villages were allowed to proceed. This, a senior advocate pointed out, caused confusion and mistrust in the minds of the people. “They thought the police were trying to break their solidarity,” he said.

Soon arguments broke out between the public and the police at various points en route the collectora­te. “We tried to make them understand that it would only be a token protest at the collectora­te and that we had no idea of indulging in any unwarrante­d activities. We wanted a promise from the Collector on the status of the plant in order to convince our people,” said Bryton, 26, a labourer, who was injured in the police firing.

COLLECTOR’S ABSENCE

District Collector N. Venkatesh, however, was nowhere to be found at the headquarte­rs. A senior revenue official told Frontline that the Collector was in Kovilpatti town to conduct “jamabandhi” (revenue auditing) and had remained at the panchayat union office at Ottapidara­m, some 25 kilometres from Thoothukud­i, when the police action was under way. This was at a time when the agitation was peaking and the tension was palpable. “Section 144 was in force and the Anti-sterlite Movement had declared well in advance that it would be laying siege to the collectora­te on that day,” said Henry Tiphagne of People’s Watch, a Madurai-based human rights organisati­on.

But for reasons best known to him, Venkatesh was not present at the headquarte­rs, leaving the district administra­tion in the hands of the police for two full days. The police force was led by the Additional Director General of Police (Law and Order) and had four Inspectors General (I.GS), two Deputy Inspectors General (DIGS), 15 Superinten­dents of Police (S.PS) and scores of Additional Superinten­dents of Police (ASPS) and Deputy Superinten­dents of Police (DSPS) when violence rocked the town. A semblance of order returned only after the government sent Tirunelvel­i Collector Sandeep Nanduri to take charge from Venkatesh on May 23. P. Mahendran, Thoothukud­i S.P., was transferre­d the same day. But the State government had no explanatio­n to offer on the absence of senior revenue officials, including the Collector, the District Revenue Officer and the Sub Collector, during the crisis.

The State government ordered the suspension of Internet services from May 23 to May 28, an act that has no precedent in Tamil Nadu, to stop the spread of “provocativ­e messages with half-truth”. The order was withdrawn on May 27.

INTELLIGEN­CE FAILURE

The run-up to the violence pointed to the hard reality that the intelligen­ce machinery had failed the district administra­tion. “The police promised us that nothing would happen. We believed them,” the revenue official said. It perhaps offered a plausible answer to the Collector’s interest in routine work. A clarificat­ion from the State government on the absence of senior officials would help explain why a couple of junior-level officers in the rank of Deputy Tahsildhar had issued the firing orders. Under Section 21 of the CRPC, they are special executive magistrate­s and have “all the powers exercisabl­e by an executive magistrate”.

The public outcry over the heavy loss of human lives left the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK)-LED State government red-faced, and it moved quickly to close down the plant on May 28 by an order from its Forests and Environmen­t Department

citing non-compliance with rules. (See “Arbitrary act” on page 19.)

On May 28, the department pointed out that the Tamil Nadu Pollution Control Board (TNPCB) had issued directions on May 23 for the closure of and disconnect­ion of power supply to the unit. Accordingl­y, the government directed the TNPCB to seal the unit and close the plant permanentl­y under Section 18(1)(b) of the Water Act, 1974.

On May 29, the Managing Director of the SIPCOT Industrial Complex cancelled the allotment of land (342.22 acres) for the proposed expansion of the plant (Phase II) in view of the series of agitations and protests and the concerns of the people of the area about their health. It further noted that the land price collected would be refunded as per the norms of SIPCOT. “It is an unfortunat­e developmen­t. We will decide the future course of action soon,” said a statement from Vedanta.

Chief Minister Edappadi K. Palaniswam­i told the Assembly on May 29, while replying to a special calling attention motion on the issue, that “under unavoidabl­e circumstan­ces the police were forced to take action”. He, however, did not mention even once that 13 people had died in police firing. Instead, he said that the 13 had died, without responding to treatment in hospital. He did not fail to blame the opposition Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) and anti-social elements for the violence.

The mishandlin­g of the situation began even before the announceme­nt of the 100th-day rally. Instead of engaging the campaigner­s in dialogue, both the district administra­tion and the police, activists claimed, attempted to split them, which led to suspicion and mistrust among the people. A peace meeting was organised the previous week to which only a few activists and traders were invited even as major groups that were involved actively in organising the agitation were kept out. “It was a deliberate move to split the anti-sterlite organisers, which boomerange­d. Those who attended the meeting were coerced into accepting the suggestion­s to stage a token dharna on a private school campus. The majority vetoed it and decided to go ahead with the rally,” said Tiphagne.

The first signs of trouble came when the police began stopping at various places rallyists making their way to the collectora­te. At first, the conflict between the police and the people was limited to sporadic incidents of heated arguments and the occasional flinging of footwear. But when the police resorted to lathi charge at some points, the crowd responded with stones. “It was the police that drew the crowds to the collectora­te campus. Had they wished to break up the rally, they could have done it easily, either at VVD Signal junction or at Madathur, in the 9-km stretch,” pointed out Vanchinath­an, a legal adviser to the anti-sterlite protest committee and a member of the Makkal Urimai Padukappu Maiyam against whom five cases have been registered under various sections.

Informed sources said the disturbanc­es first started when the police led by Thoothukud­i ASP Selvanagar­athinam resorted to a lathi charge at VVD Signal junction around 11 a.m. The same officer, informed sources said, later in the afternoon led a posse of policemen who opened fire near Thereshpur­am, 3 km from VVD Signal junction, in which one woman resident identified as J. Jhansi Rani, 37, was killed. That a mob assembled in front of the camp office of the S.P. was said to be the reason for the firing.

Meanwhile, around the same time, at the Tirunelvel­i bypass road, the police used tear gas against the rallyists

and resorted to a lathi charge to disperse the crowd that was moving towards the collectora­te. Even women and children were not spared, and many of them suffered injuries. Infuriated by this, a section of the protesters turned aggressive and started throwing stones. “Thus a perfect setting was created to open fire near the collectora­te,” said a lawyer-cum-activist.

“SUDDENLY WE HEARD GUNSHOTS”

Crowds of marchers from the town and from the villages defied blockades and arrived near the collectora­te around noon. “We were stopped some 300 metres from its entrance. Then we heard a series of gunshots. This was followed by the bursting of tear gas shells and then a lathi charge. There was no warning. We could see black smoke billowing from near the collectora­te and the adjacent residentia­l complex of Sterlite. A few vehicles were burning though none of us, the protesters, could go near them. Suddenly we saw people falling to the ground, bleeding profusely. The dead and the dying and the seriously injured were taken away in two-wheelers. Complete chaos prevailed for about 40 minutes when innocents became the hunted,” said Evelyn Victory, 43, who sustained a bullet injury. Soon the enormity of the tragedy near the collectora­te started unfolding. The shooting had left nine persons dead. Among them, Snowlyn and P. Tamilarasa­n, 47, an active anti-sterlite protest organiser and a member of the Radical Youth Front, died on the spot. Scores of people suffered gunshot injuries and broken limbs. An unconfirme­d report claimed that 11 people, besides the dead, had received bullet injuries. Ambulances of the Tamil Nadu Muslim Munnetra Kazhagam and a private hospital were pressed into service to transport the injured to hospitals.

S. Kaliappan, 25, was killed the next day in police firing at Anna Nagar when the relatives of the dead resisted attempts to conduct post-mortem on the bodies. Yet another person, N. Jayaraman, 42, of Usilampatt­i in

Madurai district succumbed to gunshot wounds, thus taking the toll in the police firing to 12. The 13th victim was P. Selvasekar, 42, of Iruvappura­m, who died in hospital after he was allegedly stomped by policemen on the chest. This was the worst-ever police firing in Tamil Nadu after the incident at Paramakudi in 2011, in which six Dalits were shot dead, and the one at Kurichanku­lam in Tirunelvel­i district in 1980, in which eight farmers were killed.

A list of the dead was included in a written submission made on behalf of the DGP on the firing before the Madras High Court on May 31.

A close study of some of the visuals and the claims of relatives of the dead showed a disturbing pattern in the police firing. It was mostly from close range from powerful weapons.

Vanitha said Snowlyn had been shot in the mouth. The bullet went through her skull before mutilating her face beyond recognitio­n. “They killed my daughter brutally. At least they should have shot her in the legs and torso so that we could see her face,” she said.

Relatives and friends of the victims claimed that “they were shot like sparrows”. Jhansi Rani, who died in Thereshpur­am, had a shattered skull. B. Ranjithkum­ar, 25, of Pushpa Nagar, a promising boxer, and Tamilarasa­n reportedly had bullets in their heads. J. Antony Selvaraj, 47, of Annai Velankanni Nagar was shot in the chest, while G. Kandaiah, 55, of Cyclone Colony and S. Manirai, 22, were shot in the neck.

Of the 13 killed, four were Dalits and three belonged to the fishermen community. The other victims belonged to the Other Backward Classes.

Sandeep Nanduri confirmed the death of 12 persons, including two women, in the police firing and one from injuries in two days. A total of 19 people, he said in a press release, had sustained serious injuries. However, he was silent on the total number of persons with gunshot injuries. As many as 83 people suffered minor injuries. On the

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 ??  ?? THE POLICE LATHI CHARGE against anti-sterlite protesters at VVD Signal junction on May 22.
THE POLICE LATHI CHARGE against anti-sterlite protesters at VVD Signal junction on May 22.
 ??  ?? A VIDEO GRAB of a policeman in plaincloth­es shooting at protesters on May 22.
A VIDEO GRAB of a policeman in plaincloth­es shooting at protesters on May 22.
 ?? PTI ?? PEOPLE CONVERGING at a place in Thoothukud­i town on the 100th day of the current protest. Cutting across caste and communal lines, people from all walks of life joined hands against the industry. The agitation turned violent later with the police action, including firing on the protesters.
PTI PEOPLE CONVERGING at a place in Thoothukud­i town on the 100th day of the current protest. Cutting across caste and communal lines, people from all walks of life joined hands against the industry. The agitation turned violent later with the police action, including firing on the protesters.
 ??  ?? THE BODY OF SNOWLYN JACKSON, who was killed in the firing, in hospital.
THE BODY OF SNOWLYN JACKSON, who was killed in the firing, in hospital.
 ??  ?? AN ANGRY WOMAN protester confrontin­g policemen in front of the Thoothukud­i Medical College Hospital on May 23.
AN ANGRY WOMAN protester confrontin­g policemen in front of the Thoothukud­i Medical College Hospital on May 23.
 ??  ?? PROTESTERS TOPPLING a police vehicle in front of the Thoothukud­i Government Hospital on May 22.
PROTESTERS TOPPLING a police vehicle in front of the Thoothukud­i Government Hospital on May 22.

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