India’s Silent Spaces

India’s economy is booming; its leaders proudly proclaim it is the world’s largest democracy. To promote this unqualified positive vision of modern India, however, is to ignore the many negative aspects of development that tell a less optimistic story. Improvement in India has been in pockets, leaving huge numbers of people both invisible and vulnerable. Until recently, the government tolerated civil society, human rights defenders and non-governmental organizations that are often the only voice for India’s otherwise disenfranchised groups. But the government’s attitude towards these groups is rapidly changing. Largely unnoticed amid stories of silicon valleys, double-digit growth rates, and foreign direct investment is the darker side of Indian development: the government’s growing willingness to silence dissent and restrict basic freedoms.

Last summer, I had planned to work with the People’s Union for Civil Liberties, a non-ideological organization dedicated to the protection of human rights in the central Indian state of Chhattisgarh. This region is known for its large number of rural and forest-dwelling communities as well as for its rich mineral deposits. The day before arriving in Chhattisgarh, I learned that Dr. Binayak Sen, the human rights activist and doctor I had been planning to work with, had been arrested on counts of terrorism. He is still in jail today, nearly one year later.

Dr. Sen is an accomplished physician, whose primary interest is pediatrics, particularly the impact of widespread malnutrition and poverty on children’s health in places like rural Chhattisgarh. He and others had created the worker-owned and -run Shaheed Hospital in the mining town of Dallirajhara, premised on the idea of demystifying medicine and making affordable healthcare accessible to all classes and castes. He and his wife, Ilina Sen, continued this work but also turned their attention to growing health and security threats in the state, especially escalating economic inequality. Over the last decade, an unstable economic situation has resulted in the influx of revolutionaries, known as Naxalites, who defend the rights of marginalized communities to their land and resources. Increasingly, they are met in these rural communities by Salwa Judum, government-supported militias sent to counter revolutionary violence.

Salwa Judum has unclear origins. Some allege it is a government creation to drive rural communities off their land; government officials claim it is a spontaneous movement of people to defend themselves against the excesses of Naxalite violence. In either event, one certain point is that Salwa Judum has increased violence in the state to unprecedented levels, forcing communities out of their forest dwellings and into crude, and by most reports sub-human, camps. Moving back is often not a choice for these communities, kept off their traditional land by the government in the name of public safety.

Amidst this conflict and suffering, the government is signing agreements with mining companies for access to the mineral deposits that lie in the land of indigenous communities. Advocates are attempting to expose the connections between Salwa Judum, widescale displacement, but, many people in positions of power seem to be ignoring the situation altogether.

Meanwhile, the state of Chhattisgarh has imposed one of the most stringent anti-terrorism laws in India. Passed in 2005, this law defines terrorist activity to encompass even tendencies toward interference with public order or administration of law, though how this tendency is defined or proven is unclear. It also prohibits encouragement of civil disobedience, which makes free speech and political dissent tricky. In addition, national anti-terrorism legislation expands police powers to investigate suspected acts of terrorism and allows for extended preventative detention without charge.

These were the laws invoked when Dr. Sen was arrested on May 14, 2007, although he wasn’t formally charged with any crime until Feb. 2, 2008. The state has accused him of plotting terrorist activities, citing his decision to provide healthcare to prisoners as evidence of his connections to illegal organizations. Dr. Sen’s patients included a convicted Naxal leader who required hand surgery, and all those visits had been approved and monitored by prison officials. It is difficult to work in Chhattisgarh, particularly in rural areas and in prisons, and not come into contact with Naxalites. This can hardly be considered proof of terrorist proclivity. As many of his close associates, friends and family have attested, Binayak Sen, as a medical professional, is committed to non-violence in his work.

Dr. Sen’s arrest is only one event in a disturbing trend toward imprisoning journalists, human rights advocates, academics and others under India’s nebulous anti-terrorism laws. The most recent arrestee was Ajay T.G., also a leading member of PUCL-Chhattisgarh, a human rights activist and film-maker, on May 4, 2008. Individuals like Dr. Sen have a global network of support, including Noam Chomsky, Amartya Sen and Paul Farmer, and yet his incarceration continues. Global demonstrations on May 13 and 14, including one in Harvard Square, will not only mark one year of Dr. Sen’s imprisonment, but also bring attention to the countless others who have also been targeted under India’s anti-terrorism laws and displaced, injured or killed by Salwa Judum who are not receiving adequate attention. They are being swept aside for the more glamorous (and sometimes deceiving) stories of growth, technology and democratic participation in India. A visible minority is benefiting from India’s economic and political structure; an unseen and unheard majority is bearing the disproportionate burden the social costs associated with these gains.

Komala Ramachandra is a second-year student at Harvard Law School.