Note: To read the full report (with photos and videos), please visit my Blog: http://amitjogi.blogspot.com/2010/07/bastar-satyagraha-phase-one-report.html

Day One: Dantewada to Nakulnar, 19th June 2010

1.1 Rain
It is drizzling. We wait for it to stop. It doesn’t. Thanks to Vinod Tiwari, who had the foresight to arrange raincoats from Raipur, the rain does little to dampen our bodies- and more importantly, our spirits.


To me, the rain is symbolic: it marks both an end and a beginning.

1.2 Maha Bhumkal
In an age when it has become fashionable to celebrate Centenaries of all sorts, it is indeed sad that nobody seems to have noticed that it is now exactly 100 years since the Maha Bhumkal. Those of us who know something about ‘the Great Rebellion of 1910’ view it primarily as a tribal uprising against the Raj. It is a view enforced by Maoists.

In my opinion, such a viewpoint isn’t entirely accurate.

The leadership of Maha Bhumkal wasn’t restricted to tribals. At its core, lay an alliance between Lal Kalindra Singh, an uncle of Bastar’s King Rudrapratap Deo, and Gunda Dhur, a Dhruwa chieftain from Netanar whose name, even now, is the stuff of legend among Bastarias. Others leaders included Bachchuprasad Pandit (one journalist at Jagdalpur objected to the inclusion of this name, saying that there was no such person, until I showed him Standen’s Report on the Revolt), Mukundadeo Machmara and Murat Singh Bakshi- again, all non-tribals.

Kalars, Rauts, Maharas- communities living in forests alongside tribals, but for some idiotic reason have been classified as ‘OBCs’- also took part.

The rebels occupied Jagdalpur for 7 days. The British sent in forces from Raipur, Nagpur and Madras (Chennai) to brutally crush the Uprising. Thousands were killed, shot at point-blank range by maxim guns; tens of thousands were whipped; entire villages were burnt; the more notable leaders were all summarily tried and sent off to perish at the Central Jail at Raipur. It is a plight still lamented in the Bhumkal Geet, sung in Gondi.

When I said that 100 years later, there is a need for another Maha Bhumkal, I didn’t mean that the people of Bastar should all take up arms and rise against the state. What I was saying was simply this. The Maha Bhumkal of 1910 is unique in that it showed a remarkable unity of purpose at two distinct levels: one, between tribal and non-tribal residents of Bastar; and two, between the various tribes- Dhruwa, Maria, Halba, Abujhmaria and Muria, to name the more prominent ones- occupying various regions of Bastar. It is this Unity that needs to be revived.


In the debate on how the problems of Bastar should be tackled (Left Wing Extremism (LWE), included) we don’t seem to be listening to those who really matter: the Bastarias. What do they want?

As far as weapons are concerned, well, I believe we do need them- but not of the kind that are currently being deployed. Books and medicines, and footballs, are far more effective as arsenals than bullets and bombs- if our battle is for the Heart & Soul of Bastar, and not simply for its territory and resources. This, I believe, we have amply proven through our seven day padyatra through the violence-prone regions of South Bastar.

1.3 Bastar Satyagraha
I’ve said from the start that Bastar Satyagraha is non-political. That is essential for our survival. There are people belonging to different political parties- Congress, BJP, CPI and the militant CP (Maoist). All of them are equally concerned about what’s happening to Bastar. All of them want to do what’s best for Bastar. None should be excluded. That is precisely why our Movement must remain non-political.


Anyone can join us- as long as they believe in two things. First, that all People, irrespective of background or persuasion, are good. Secondly, that nobody will oppose any effort, howsoever small, to do good.

The first phase of Bastar Satyagraha- in which we walked on foot through the violence-prone areas for a week, carrying not guns but books, medicines and footballs- was an attempt to test this hypothesis. If we were wrong, then the possibility of our returning unhurt would be remote. That, however, was a risk we had to take.

People have asked me about the timing of Bastar Satyagraha: why now? To that I’ve only one answer: why not sooner?

The fact is we were wrong, terribly wrong. It’s no use pointing fingers at anyone. That would make things worse. Our Satyagraha, therefore, begins by accepting that we, all of us, were wrong. There is no doubt in my mind: if the situation in Bastar is to be salvaged, we must begin anew.

We must search for those issues where there is overall agreement; we must, at this stage anyway, avoid all such issues where there is dispute. That is absolutely essential if the Unity of Maha Bhumkal is to be revived.

1.4 Ma Danteswari Temple
The goddess Danteswari- in all probability, a tribal deity absorbed as early as 11th century A.D. into Hindu cosmogony as a divinity sprouting from the place where the teeth of the slain goddess Kali fell (the cult of shaktipeeth)- is the supreme deity of all Bastarias. Traditionally, the King’s legitimacy- and power- was derived from the fact that he was the chief pujari (priest) of the goddess, interceding on behalf of the people before her.

As late as the 1970s, hundreds of people would fling themselves before her annual procession from Dantewada to Jagdalpur (Bastar) during the Dusshera festival, to be crushed under her chariot’s wheels. (I’m told that it still takes great efforts on the part of the administration to prevent some of them from doing this.)

Modern clothes- pants & shirts- are not permitted before her. You have to be clad in nothing but a simple loincloth (dhoti) in order to come into her presence. Only a precious few are granted the privilege of seeing her feet- and they must, in any event, be prostrating at the time so as not to offend her.

We paid our respects to the goddess, and began our padyatra with a secular hymn: Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram, Ishwar Allah Tero Naam, Sabko Sanmati Do Bhagwan. (Raghupati Raghav, Raja Ram, Ishwar and Allah are all Your Names, Give Good Sense to All)

It was, I thought, most apt.

1.5 A Bit of Civil Disobedience
A day before we began our padyatra, I wrote a letter to the District Collector, Dantewada, informing her about our route. She wrote back saying that we were free to go provided we followed certain conditions: one, we could walk only on the Dantewada-Sukma highway and nowhere else; two, there was to be no loud music of any kind; three, we could walk only between 8 a.m. and 3 p.m. everyday.

Naturally, we didn’t intend to subscribe to any of them. It was, after all, not our intention to examine the condition of the highway, to count the number of potholes in it. We wanted to go to places most plagued by violence- and listen to what the people there had to say.

In any case, 25 policemen- all of them young men like us- were deployed to accompany us. An ambulance followed. I don’t think there was anyone in it (besides the driver, of course).



1.6 Kumhar Ras: A Study in Development



This is a small village, hardly 5 kms from Dantewada town. It is a few hundred meters away from the highway. The local janpad (BDC) member had arranged for me to have lunch at Shivcharan’s house: it consisted of fried fish and parboiled rice; it was most delicious.



At his house, I was told about the Indira Awas Yojana intended to provide housing to below poverty line (BPL) families. More than 175 such families were selected; 35 were paid the first installment, of Rs 15000. They began construction. Then, the money stopped. They were told that the Yojana had been cancelled; its funds had been diverted to “Salwa Judum”.

Kumhar Ras is a strange sight to behold: a village full of roofless houses.


Later, the villagers took us to see their lone source of drinking water. It is a 55 mm cemented hole, about 5 feet deep, dug into a field. It’s less than half full. They have to ration this water: every family is permitted only 1 matka (pot) a day. To bathe, they have to go to the other side of the highway, to the river Shankani.


They also took me to see the village pond, built at a cost of Rs 10,00,000. It is little more than a mud pit, with no water in it.


The road back to the highway- on paper, it is made of cement by the NMDC- is muddy.



1.7 Masenar: So close, and yet so far
At Masenar, we work out our modus operandi. We divide ourselves into three teams: one, to do the Survey (form enclosed); another, to distribute school kits (each comprising a notebook, pencil, sharpener, eraser and a ballpoint pen); and last but not the least, a team of doctors and medical students. Each team has a satyagrahi, who can speak one of the 9 different local languages spoken here (the lingua franca being Gondi and Halbi). This way, everyone knows what he is supposed to do the moment we reach a village.


The main village is barely a few hundred meters off the highway. Yet, villagers have to walk more than 10 kms to get to it. That is because a river, Shankani, runs in between. Long ago, in 2002-03, a bridge had been sanctioned. Nothing has been built. In the morning, we’re informed, it was possible for villagers to wade through the river, as the water was only neck-deep. Now, it’s way too deep, and the only way to get across is to swim. We were, I’m afraid, too tired for that.

Consequently, we find ourselves screaming across the river, to have a conversation with the hundreds who could not come.