Urban naxals or patriots?

With so much of the current conversation revolving around “urban naxals” and “anti-nationals”, I find myself thinking about the fundamental nature of dissent and disobedience in a democracy. Does asking uncomfortable questions to the government, or supporting marginalised communities make one less patriotic than someone who accepts the status quo unquestioningly? Not in a country that has instituted the RTI Act of 2006, which gives every citizen the power to ask questions and demand answers from not just the government, but any public body. It has empowered ordinary people to ask questions so uncomfortable that scams like Vyapam have been unearthed because of them. As I wrote in a previous column, far too many braveheart whistleblowers have met untimely ends for speaking truth to power — which is what many urban naxals I know also do. Sometime ago, I met Odisha Soochana Adhikar Abhijan state convener Pradeep Pradhan, and he told me what life was like for dissenters and questioners in his state. From 2007-18, countless RTI applicants have been beaten up or have seen their family members attacked. “Two were murdered, in 2014 and 2015,” he said. Then he introduced me to Bikas Chandra Naik and Babu Jena, ordinary men with extraordinary stories to tell.

Naik had filed an RTI query about a government rural housing scheme. “I’d noticed that the scheme was being misused, and well-off people were using it to buy houses,” he said. One day, he was severely beaten and grievously injured by unknown assailants, clearly in an attempt to coerce him to take back his query. The police did not let him file an FIR. “Instead, they asked for Rs 1,000 bribe to register the case and when I refused, threatened to arrest me,” he said. Undeterred, Naik complained to the vigilance commission about this. “They asked me to film the police taking a bribe,” he narrated. “I did so but no case has been registered yet.”

In 2017, Jena sought information about the funds sanctioned for compensation for the victims of Cyclone Phailin. There had been misappropriation of funds by the office bearers in the case, and they threatened to murder him if he didn’t take back his query. A month later, Jena was beaten and left for dead. He survived severe head injuries only to find that yet again, the police weren’t willing to register his case. “Not only am I being ostracised by my community, my village committee has fined me Rs 10,000 for raising my voice against corruption,” he said. 

Pradhan said Jena and Naik’s cases aren’t unique, “There are dozens more such cases in my state.” He should know. His own sister survived a murder attempt meant to intimidate him. Many advise these citizen-activists to look away, withdraw their questions and live peaceful lives. “But we aren’t at fault for asking questions of the government and improve its functioning, are we?” he asked. In fact, for him, questioning the government and standing up for the marginalised was one of the highest forms of patriotism — even if it meant being called names, harassed or even murdered. 

Anyway, Pradhan, Jena and Naik have since returned to Odisha. And me? I’m more convinced than ever that if dissent, disobedience and questioning are some of the distinguishing traits of urban naxals, then I must aspire to be one too.