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Sandipan Chatterjee
Out cast Reshma Biwi prepares a meal for her family at a Muslim relief camp in Raniganj, Kokrajhar district
assam
A Bridge Too Far
The state and civil society need to mount a Herculean effort to bridge the chasm between Bodos and others
Assam
is going through one of those phases of history so bereft of light
where one is capable of believing the worst about fellow humans—or to
wonder what it is to be human. A visit to some of the 300-odd camps,
which have sprung up during the last fortnight, gave us a taste of the
language of hate and horror that has clouded the Bodo Territorial Area
Districts (BTAD) and its adjoining districts in lower Assam. Listen to
Jayashree Mushahamyan, a twentysomething Bodo woman at the Commerce
College relief camp in Kokrajhar: “Muslims are so cruel and greedy. I
heard one of them slit the throat of his pregnant wife so that he could
claim compensation from the government for those who died in the
violence last week.” It’s pointless to ask if this is real, or merely an
apocryphal tale spun to make sense of a local universe gone toxic. We
are driving through Chirang, Dhubri and Kokrajhar a week after one of
the worst Bodo-Muslim clashes have ripped people apart. It’s like
travelling through a war zone. Charred houses surround us, and every few
kilometres we come across public buildings converted into refugee
camps. They are crammed with people, spilling out on to the road.
It has been a week since the clashes, and fatigue has set in. The
inmates are no longer filled with talk about the terror unleashed on
them between July 20 and 26, when mobs attacked them, set their houses
on fire, and forced them to flee. The refrain across camps now is: “How
long do we have to live like this?” It is now more about “getting the
hell out of here and going back home,” explains one of the men.
Charred Khudeja before her burnt down hut in Paschim Dologaon. (Photograph by Sandipan Chatterjee)
No wonder, for the stench of unwashed bodies hits you even before
12-year-old Majeda Begum can begin complaining. “None of us has had a
shower for over a week.” Forget water for bathing, most of these public
buildings do not even have enough water for drinking. “We don’t have
clothes to change into. We left everything back in our village when we
fled,” cuts in Majeda’s friend Nazrina Begum. Her comment evokes a rare
display of black humour from fellow inmate Masuma Begum: “It’s good in a
sense that we don’t have clothes; if we did, we would have to change in
front of the men.”
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“It is not enough to promise rehabilitation. The first step is to rebuild confidence in the minds of the people.”Pramod Bodo president, All Bodo Students Union |
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The
various kinds of reasoning and coping mechanisms people resort
to—amplifying it, or the opposite—can’t hide basic facts. The violence
killed 61 at last count. That may seem modest to a nation inured to
catastrophes. But it also displaced over four lakh. Never before in
independent India have we had to deal with such a large number displaced
because of violence. Prime minister Manmohan Singh, during his visit to
the region on July 28, described the crisis as “a blot on our nation”.
It was an understatement. This is India’s gravest humanitarian crisis.
The scale of the crisis is accentuated by the estimated 1,80,000
people who have already been living in camps in Assam, displaced by the
recurring bouts of terror since 1993 and fearful that any attempted
return to what was once their home would unleash renewed wrath of “the
other”. It’s equally unlikely that those who have just arrived at the
camps will return home any time soon, notwithstanding the August 15
deadline set by the state government.
The ethnic-communal divide is evident in how the relief camps are
situated. There are an estimated 178 of them in the Muslim-populated
Dhubri district, where most of the Muslims from the neighbouring
Bodo-dominated Kokrajhar have fled. The 108 camps in Kokrajhar, on the
other hand, is where the Bodos have come for refuge.
One such camp in Kokrajhar—at the Commerce College—houses over 1,500
people. Others host 3,000 refugees or more. While Assam chief minister
Tarun Gogoi has promised rehabilitation in a month (see interview), All
Bodo Students Union (ABSU) president Pramod Bodo says, “It is not enough
to promise rehabilitation. We must rebuild confidence in the minds of
the people. Police protection has to be provided in sensitive areas so
that people can go back and resume normal lives.”
This is not the first time the two groups have clashed (see
timeline). A lot of the animosity between Bodos, the original
inhabitants, and Muslims, is traced to the former’s real and perceived
loss of land. Primarily agriculturists, Bodos leased out portions of
their land to Muslim farm labour, but there have been reports of late of
illegal, forceful occupation of land. It doesn’t help either that there
are no land ownership records.
“The Bodos are already squeezed between Bhutan and Bangladesh and the
state has done little to guarantee their rights,” says Namrata Goswami,
an expert on conflict resolution at the New Delhi-based Institute for
Defence Studies and Analyses. While the Bodos once rallied against the
Assamese, much of their anger is now directed at Bengali Muslim
settlers.
The settlers, on the other hand, have repeatedly felt their rights
given a short shrift under a Bodo administration. Tensions flare at
protests by either side, whether it’s the Bodos pressing for a
full-fledged state or the non-Bodos wanting villages where they are in a
majority to be excluded from the administrative control of the Bodos.
Over the last few years, the Muslims have organised themselves into
several groups to aggressively press for their rights—something that has
angered the Bodos. Even the latest round of violence, according to
varying accounts, can be traced to localised altercations over land or
those that took place during bandhs in May this year.
“But,” as Suhas Chakma, the director of the Asian Centre for Human
Rights in New Delhi, says, “these incidents of violence have been
occurring with such consistency now that one would have expected the
state to identify riot-prone areas by now.” And though ABSU president
Pramod Bodo maintains that “the Muslim retaliation was greater as you
will not find a single Bodo person left in Dhubri District,” it’s
equally difficult, if not impossible, to find a Muslim in Kokrajhar.
While public buildings and spaces—schools, colleges, parks and
fields—are bursting at the seams with people who’ve fled their homes,
the villages in these districts are completely deserted. Household
goods, school textbooks, cassette recorders are strewn around, along
with rotting carcasses of animals shot dead—haunting reminders of
villages once humming with life.
Lined in misery A Bodo relief camp in Nowapara, Chirang district. (Photograph by Sandipan Chatterjee)
The Muslims, angry at being
routinely described as illegal migrants, are also apprehensive. “With
our houses gutted and documents burnt, they will now claim that we are
all foreigners and harass us to prove our citizenship,” they tell anyone
who cares to listen. They also point to refugee camps which have
existed for decades and wonder if they’ll ever be able to rebuild their
lives.
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“The Bodos have no aversion to the Muslims. The local administration in Bodoland has to be more inclusive of the non-Bodos.”Namrata Goswami, Conflict resolution expert, IDSA, New Delhi |
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The
Bongaigaon District Muslim Refugee Committee’s camp, for instance, has
existed since 1993. “It happened exactly the same way 20 years ago. One
night, when we were asleep, we were awakened by the sound of gunshots. I
remember I was 25 then. I came out and saw huts on fire and, in the
light of the flames, I could see people striking each other with daggers
and others running in all directions. I too ran like hell and hid in a
jungle,” recalls Abdul Jamal, the committee’s secretary. “Many of us
lost members of our family at that time. Some were lucky to at least
know their kin had perished. Others never found out where they went;
whether they are dead or alive.”
With every year, hopes of returning to their homes have receded.
“Even I hoped that one day I would go back home to my village in
Kokrajhar,” says 60-year-old Munira Begum. “But now I am resigned to my
fate. I went through the humiliation of having my daughter married off
from this relief camp. I had my own house with a garden and our own land
but the Bodos want everything. So they grabbed it.”
The Bodos, on the other hand, blame the recent spate of violence on
infiltration from across the border. “We lived side by side with Muslims
harmoniously,” says Mushahamyan at the Commerce College camp. “Some of
them were my friends. But when their relatives come from across the
border with guns and bombs, they wouldn’t stand up to them. In fact,
sometimes, they warned us in advance and tell us to leave. The people
from across the border are dangerous. They’re smugglers and want to grab
our land.”
Lack of any reliable data on
migration from Bangladesh has only helped stoke fears of an “invasion”.
“What needs to be done is to have a dataset on migration so we have an
idea of how many people are coming in. But the state has made no effort
to produce any data,” says IDSA’s Goswami. She argues migration cannot
be stopped entirely, but can at least be regulated via a system of work
permits. “After all, people are coming not to create trouble but to work
for a living.”
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“The growing marginalisation of moderate elements among the Bodos in the post-BTC phase has made the situation worse.”Akhil Ranjan Dutta, Associate professor of political science, Gauhati University |
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The
failure of the Indian state is apparent on other counts. Although 3,000
people were killed in the infamous Nellie massacre way back in 1983,
not a single perpetrator has so far been identified or punished.
Similarly, when the Union government signed a fresh Bodoland accord in
2003, it did not insist that Bodo militants surrender their arms. These
are the same groups who erode the authority of the Bodoland Territorial
Council. Going by historical logic, it allowed the integration of areas
even where Bodos were in a minority into regions administered by the
Bodo Territorial Council. And while it provided that land could no
longer be bought or sold by non-Bodos in the area, it also allowed
Muslim settlers to retain their “existing rights”, effectively negating
the ban on land alienation.
All these years of churning had an effect at other levels. The
state’s DGP, J.N. Choudhury, confesses that he no longer recognises his
state. Having stayed away on postings outside the state, Choudhury
returned as DGP barely six months ago and is shocked at the changes.
Attitudes have hardened and people are more concerned about their own
identity. Even before the present crisis, he concedes, the surface calm
was deceptive and the state was sitting on a tinderbox.
A moderate Bodo leader, U.G. Brahma, who is at the forefront of a
separate Bodoland movement, suspects a political conspiracy to derail
the “democratic movement for a separate state”. He told Outlook
that while there are terrorist groups in the state opposed to the
government, there are also terrorist groups that are patronised by the
government. There cannot be peace without disarming these groups among
both Muslims and Bodos, he says.
Resigned to their fate The Commerce College camp in Kokrajhar. (Photograph by Sandipan Chatterjee)
While illegal migration has been
blamed for the crisis, both by the Bodos and the BJP, the Border
Security Force denies such allegations. To prove its point, the BSF’s
eastern command took Outlook to the riverine borders between
India and Bangladesh divided by the channels of the Brahmaputra and
Damodar rivers. At a river border outpost, a BSF commander demonstrates
the state-of-the-art equipment at their disposal, be it night-vision
binoculars or searchlights. P.K. Wahal, the BSF IG, eastern command,
told Outlook, “Infiltration isn’t the source of the problem. It
has come down substantially over the years. Most of the migration took
place pre-1971.”
However, strict border patrolling alone is not going to bring in
peace. Akhil Ranjan Dutta, an associate professor of political science
at the Gauhati University, says that, to begin with, law and order has
to be enforced “adequately and comprehensively”. Land security of the
Bodos and Muslims has to be addressed too, along with the entitlement of
the non-Bodos, including the Muslim peasants. “It also has to be
stressed that peace is beneficial both for the Bodos and non-Bodos and
that there are non-violent means to resolve their conflict.” What it
requires is an honest effort.
***
Homeless In The Homeland
How an endless cycle of violence and devastating floods has displaced
hundreds of thousands in Assam since 1993 but without attracting any
attention from the mainland
Blood
- October 1993 Bodos and Muslims clash in Kokrajhar and Bongaigaon; 18,000 displaced
- May 1996 Violence between Bodos, adivasis in Bongaigaon, displacing 2,62,682 persons
- September 1998 Ethnic conflict between Bodos, adivasis in Bongaigaon displaces 3,14,342
- September-November 2005 43,819 persons displaced in clashes in Karbi Anglong between Karbi, Dimasa tribals
- August 2008 Conflict between Bodos and Muslims in Darrang and Udalguri; 2,00,000 displaced
- March-May 2009 Dimasas, Nagas clash in North Cachar hills, displacing 11,737
- January 2011 Rabha-Garo conflict displaces over 50,000
- July 2012 Bodo-Muslim clashes displace 3,92,000
persons. Before this round, 1,80,000 internally displaced people living
in camps: 33,600 in Kokrajhar, 13,722 in Bongaigaon, 1,20,545 in
Darrang, 11,737 in North Cachar Hills.
Source: Asian Centre for Human Rights
Flood
- The humanitarian tragedy sparked by clashes, conflicts and riots
in Assam is compounded manifold with the addition of those displaced by
the surging waters of the Brahmaputra. The recent floods displaced
around 10,00,000, many of whom are now living in relief camps.
Also Displaced
- 2,50,000 Kashmiri Pandits from the Kashmir Valley since 1990
- Naxalite conflict in Central India: at least 1,48,000 displaced
- Communal violence in Gujarat in 2002 and the riots in Orissa: 29,000 people
Source: Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre
By Dola Mitra in Kokrajhar with Debarshi Dasgupta and Uttam Sengupta in Delhi; Photographs by Sandipan Chatterjee
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