Ballerina in boots

The induction and build-up of the Indian Army in a 750 sq km “manoeuvre area” allotted by the Chhattisgarh government in the Naxalite-affected Abujmarh zone of Chhattisgarh, howsoever presented to the public, has long been expected. The preliminary moves commenced with the establishment of an Army sub-area headquarters in Raipur, and now an infantry brigade (5,000-7,000 troops depending on the composition) is in the process of establishing jungle-training camps

in Narayanpur district, 300 km from Raipur, adjacent to the Naxalite “liberated zone” near the Abujmarh forest region, which is said to have remained unsurveyed since Independence. That by itself should be ample indication of the root cause of the Naxalite problem, and the official acknowledgement by an outgoing home secretary of the Government of India that Abujmarh is a “liberated zone” should come as no surprise. The Army, of course, has been careful to emphasise repeatedly that its mission is purely training and not anti-Naxalite operations, but also realises the very live possibility of encounters and clashes during the process of training in what is in effect a no man’s land between the government and the Naxalites. A very real likelihood, therefore, of “mission creep” as a result of such encounters.
It is no secret that given the chronic and long-running nature of the Naxalite problem and the failure of the politico-administrative process to tackle the issue, recourse to an Army presence was regarded by many as more or less inevitable. The Army has all along been a reluctant participant here, knowing only too well the utterly thankless nature of another commitment on counterinsurgency, with no credit but only a surfeit of endless criticisms and allegations, besides the travails of establishing healthy working relationships with multiple state administrations and their police forces.
The Naxalites are certainly watching the Army’s movements very carefully through their network of informants and observers in the area, including this new element as it goes about its work in their domain. The Army’s training schedules will be hard, realistic and rigorous, and as per established doctrines there is likely to be civic action programmes within and in the vicinity of the manoeuvre area, which the Naxalites will try to counter by warning against fraternisation with the Army and stepping up the fear psychosis amongst the locals. Also, sooner rather than later, Naxalites should be expected to launch tentative probing attacks, ambushes and IEDs on Army camps, detachments and transport to test the waters and demonstrate their own presence in the area.
However, a hostile training area is nothing novel for the Army, because its well-established and reputed Counterinsurgency and Jungle Warfare School in Vairangte, Mizoram, was also established during the initial stages of the Mizo insurgency in an area then frequented by the hostile Mizo National Army on the principle that a live hostile presence sharpens the edge of combat training. Similarly when Pakistan-sponsored terrorism spread into the hinterland of Jammu and Kashmir, where the Army initially had no presence, units were moved into the area for training and area domination to deny a free run to the terrorists.
That being said, it must be realised that the critical elements in the fight against Naxalites cannot be the police, paramilitary forces or even the Army. Rather it is that element of the security structure who have gone missing totally by default, if not actively disparaged and demonised by all concerned, particularly the media: The tribals indigenous to the area, who are the chief participants as well as sufferers on both sides. They have been mobilised by local politicians like Mahendra Karma into the counter-Naxalite Salwa Judum movement, supported by the state, and recruited as police auxiliaries designated “Special Police Officers” (SPOs). Mahendra Karma’s unsavoury reputation is well known and his Salwa Judum has, of course, earned a horrific reputation for indiscipline and gross atrocities against their opponents, who are part of the same tribal society. The Salwa Judum has recently been declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of India, which has ordered the state and Central governments to disarm and disband these SPOs. However, that notwithstanding, the historical fact is that insurgency can only be combated by indigenous forces, whether by the Sunni awakening in Iraq or the Punjab police in India. There is no real alternative in Chhattisgarh too, where it is the successful utilisation of indigenous tribal auxiliaries which holds the key to success.
The Chhattisgarh police is under staffed and overstretched. In this context, the Army’s presence in Chhattisgarh can perhaps most effectively and imaginatively if the state government agrees to allow it to intensively train and mentor the Chhattisgarh police, along with the entire structure of tribal SPO auxiliaries, to function under tight control against insurgents in an effective but acceptable manner. It is not by any means easily achievable, given the political and administrative forces at play in that troubled state — political and police leadership are always sensitive to issues of turf.
The Chhattisgarh government and its chief minister have displayed the most hard-line anti-Naxal attitude, as manifested in the Salwa Judum and the case of social activist Dr Binayak Sen, all perhaps inevitable considering the terrible hatred and bitterness the conflict has generated. Dr Sen’s case demonstrates that this attitude has permeated even to the higher judiciary in the state. Dr Sen could ultimately obtain relief by approaching the Supreme Court, away from the jurisdiction of the state. The state has always demanded the deployment and involvement of the Army against the Naxalites, which is one reason the training areas near Abujmarh were so readily allotted, and it is expected that the clamour for military involvement in the Naxalite problem will now increase.
The Army finds itself in the position of a ballerina dancing in combat boots, treading warily between the minefields of IEDs and civil rights. But the Army has also made its rules of engagement clear — it is not a sitting duck; if fired upon, it will fire back.

The author is a former Chief of Army Staff and a former member of Parliament