Courtesy: People’s Watch

The post Decoding the Sathankulam Judgement on Custodial Death – Part 1 – Context of Torture in India appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The recent criticism of Dhurandhar has pointed to a familiar pattern: the packaging of history into over-simplified narratives of Hindu valour and external threat. From naming its chief protagonists as Ajay Sanyal (a Brahmin), Sushant Sinha (a Bania), and Jaskirat Singh Rangi (a Jat Sikh), to misrepresenting administrative facts—such as portraying Prashant Kumar as Uttar Pradesh’s DGP during demonetisation instead of Javeed Ahmad—the film reveals which identities the right wing chooses to glorify and which it side-lines or obscures.

Yet such distortions are not merely about religious conservatism or anti-Muslim polarisation. They also perform a quieter function—re-inscribing Brahminical authority over knowledge and legitimising the capitalist dominance of mercantile communities, even as they mobilise broader Hindu identities against Muslims while exacerbating caste fissures among non-Brahmin non-Bania communities. In this sense, Hindutva deploys distorted or fabricated history to divert attention from governance failures or to manufacture social conflict.

Controversies on History to serve corporate interests

On December 22, while addressing a Bhil audience, BJP veteran and Punjab Governor Gulab Chand Kataria passed remarks about Maharana Pratap that were widely seen as condescending—ironically invoking a figure the BJP has long used for emotive mobilisation. He was criticised by Rajkumar Roat of the Bhartiya Adivasi Party, who stressed Pratap’s enduring place in Adivasi historical memory.

Unease has also surfaced within the BJP’s broader ecosystem. On January 2, speaking at an event attended by Rajnath Singh, Vishvaraj Singh Mewar cautioned for an end to the political misuse of history.

Kataria’s comments also carried a political subtext in a region where mining interests are largely controlled by Jain and Agrawal business groups, while tribal-agrarian communities like Bhils and Rajputs dominate demographically yet bear the disproportionate ecological and social costs. Together, Roat’s direct criticism and Mewar’s measured appeal signal growing discomfort with the appropriation of tribal and agrarian histories to serve entrenched economic and political interests.

Crucially, the RSS–BJP project today goes beyond appropriation. It increasingly involves the active invention of Hindu warriors, the rebranding of historical dynasties, and their institutionalisation through social media, popular literature, and state-backed infrastructure.

Understanding this is essential to grasp how both Hindutva and caste-based parties are together reshaping North India along caste-communal lines while steadily eroding historical literacy and public intelligence.

The Hindutva Factory of Manufactured History 

While the RSS and its Maharashtrian leadership have enlisted sympathetic scholars to sanitise figures like Savarkar and produce grand panegyrics—through novels and high-budget films—on Shivaji, Sambhaji, and the Peshwas, the Hindutva ecosystem has simultaneously generated a stream of previously unknown “historical” figures in North India. These fabrications are deployed to exploit caste fault lines and deliberately flatten historical consciousness among targeted communities.

In recent years, BJP-aligned platforms have circulated stories of King Sudhanwa Chauhan, an alleged ruler of Mahishmati said to have governed an empire larger than that of the historical Chauhansthat of the historical Chauhans of Ajmer–Sambhar, and portrayed as a disciple of Adi Shankaracharya. Other inventions include Kirandevi, claimed to have threatened Akbar with a dagger in a Meena Bazaar for his alleged misdeeds.

None of these figures are supported by inscriptions, chronicles, or even local oral traditions. By contrast, owing to long periods of political dominance—comparable to the Mughals or the Sikhs—the Rajput past is unusually well documented across Hindu, Islamic, and Sikh sources, making such fabrications relatively easy to expose. The scholarly rejection of the sixteenth-century Prithviraj Raso by figures such as G.H. Ojha, Namvar Singh, and Cynthia Talbot, in favour of the contemporaneous Prithviraj Vijaya Mahākāvya by Jayanaka, illustrates this point. As Cynthia Talbot notes, despite more than a century of scholarly dismissal, claims of the Raso’s twelfth-century authenticity persist in popular culture.

The real targets of this strategy are communities that lacked sustained political dominance and now seek a martial or regal past in the absence of historical records.

A Galaxy of Fiction against Phule–Ambedkarism 

Manoshi Sinha Rawal’s 2019 book Saffron Swords, published by Garuda Prakashan also mainstreamed several such fabrications by presenting unsubstantiated valour tales as authentic history.

Endorsed by RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat, Ratan Sharda, and Union minister Kiren Rijiju, the book exemplifies how myth is laundered into legitimacy. Among the promoted figures are Rampyari Gujjari, Jograj Singh Gujar, and Harvir Singh Gulia, who allegedly mobilised an army of 40,000 in western Uttar Pradesh and defeated Timur-i-Lang—who is even claimed to have died from wounds inflicted by Harvir Singh Gulia. This narrative was publicly echoed by then Vice-President Jagdeep Dhankhar. When Alt News sought scholarly verification, historian Heramb Chaturvedi dismissed the claim as “absolutely absurd.”

The correlation between such martial myth-making among landed castes and rising anti-Dalit violence in western Uttar Pradesh cannot be ignored. These narratives offer a fragile sense of caste superiority within the Brahminical Varna (caste) framework, deflecting attention from structural inequality while undermining solidarities forged through Phule-Ambedkarite politics.

Progress for the Rich, Pride for the Poor & Erasure of Muslim Past

Hindutva’s historical fabrication increasingly materialises through state infrastructure. In July last year, Yogi Adityanath unveiled a forty-foot bronze statue of Raja Suheldev Rajbhar in Bahraich. The Caravan has documented how the BJP and Hindu Yuva Vahini mobilised Rajbhar OBCs through Suheldev’s legacy, further popularised by Amish Tripathi’s novel Legend of Suheldev (2020).

Yet the Sangh Parivar’s engagement with Suheldev is older. In 2003, a dubious text, Tulsī Dohā Śatak, was promoted by Rambhadracharya—later debunked by Namvar Singh—as falsely attributing temple destruction narratives to Tulsidas. No eleventh-century inscriptions of the Gaharwar or Kalchuri dynasties, which dominated the region, mention any ruler named Suheldev. His first appearance occurs in the seventeenth-century Mirat-i-Sikandari, where he is depicted not as a benevolent king but as an oppressive Hindu ruler. Thus, a fictional oppressive ruler is reinterpreted in later narratives as a historical Rajbhar king to draw OBCs away from Jatav-led Bahujan politics.

Similar processes are visible elsewhere. In 2000, India Post issued a stamp commemorating Maharaja Bijli Pasi, inaccurately presenting him as a contemporary of Prithviraj Chauhan. Prof. Badri Narayan analysed such inventions in Inventing Caste History. More recently, the Yogi government renamed Nihalgarh railway station—named after the town’s  Nihal Khan, a Bhale Sultan chief—as Maharaja Bijli Pasi station.

Lucknow’s founding is variously attributed in official narratives to Lakshman, Lakhan Ahir, or Lakhan Pasi. As Sunita Sinha observes, this competitive deployment of “caste regal histories” by BJP responds to BSP’s Ambedkar Parks by substituting emancipatory politics with symbolic pride. This is approved with resounding applause by RSS leadership who have themselves promoted such works by likes of Bijay Sonkar Shastri.

These narrative interventions are not merely ideological; they are anchored in networks of patronage and publishing historically dominated by mercantile capital, which shapes both what histories are amplified and which identities are valorised.

Kshatriyaisation: From Arya Samaj to RSS 

As early as 1907, Denzil Ibbetson described the Arya Samaj as a movement with strong political tendencies, rooted in shared interests of middle-class Brahmins and urban mercantile castes, and aimed at reshaping rural landed communities, which coexisted as both Hindus and Muslims. While Hindu–Muslim solidarities fractured, Hindu rural castes were also pitted against one another through competing Kshatriya claims—a project inherited and expanded by the RSS.

Writing in Hans (March 1998), cultural critic Rajendra Yadav argued that landed OBCs sought Kshatriya status within the Varna system, not its dismantling, limiting the scope of caste transformation. Kshatriya history offers an easily appropriable symbolic resource for this which can be “gifted” to landed OBCs in exchange for collaboration towards Brahminical institutional and Bania capitalist hegemony.

The project of Kshatriyaisation has historically involved linking diverse castes to Puranic mythological figures or retroactively assigning them Rajput history and figures. For centuries, Brahmins and Banias functioned as the principal gatekeepers of Hindu mythological and historical narratives—largely enabled by royal patronage across regimes, irrespective of whether the ruling elites were Rajputs, Mughals, Marathas, Afghans, or Jats.

With the dissolution of the princely states and the consequent de-institutionalisation of the Rajput masses, the Brahmin–Bania intellectual elite decisively became gatekeepers defining Rajput history and identity itself. This monopoly over historical narration endowed them with at least two significant socio-political powers within public discourse.

First, through selective manipulation and strategic cherry picking of Rajput history, they could simultaneously vilify Muslims and shame Rajputs for past Rajput alliances with Muslim rulers —, thus imposing upon them a perpetual burden of dharm-raksha. Second, this control enabled the reassignment of Rajput kingship and symbols of martial legitimacy to other dominant castes, such as Jats or Gujjars, often in exchange for political alignment against both Muslims and Rajputs.

For instance, in Rajasthan, the projection of the uncorroborated Jhunjhar Singh Nehra serves to displace Nawab Mohammad Khan’s historical role as Jhunjhunu’s founder. Similarly, official claims attributing Churu’s founding to a Chuhru Jat lack contemporary evidence, while the erasure of local Muslim history continues to marginalise living communities. What unfolded at Rajasthan’s Gogamedi shrine recently exemplifies this.

At one seminar, Kapil Kapoor asserted that Emperor Harsha was a Jat, while Hindutva platforms routinely project Alexander’s contemporary King Porus and Yashodharman, a 6^th century ruler of Central India,  as Jat rulers—replicating Arya Samaj strategies of Vedic Kshatriyaisation.

The most contentious claims concern the Gujjars. Attempts to “Kshatriya-ise” them link early medieval Rajput dynasties to Gujjar origins. In 1997, NH-24 was renamed Gurjar Samrat Mihir Bhoj Marg, and in 2010, a statue at Akshardham identified Mihir Bhoj as a “Gurjar Samrat.” Right-wing political scientist Meenakshi Jain and archaeologist K.K. Mohammed have advanced similar claims, despite their refutation by Prof. Shantarani Sharma in Indian Historical Review.

In Fractured Forest, Quartzite City, Thomas Crowley notes that Gujjar history has been “retrofitted, made into a glorious (if doomed) struggle against vicious outsiders,” In his dissertation , Frank Charles Spaulding highlighted that “there were no traditions, written, oral or otherwise, among the Gujjars to suggest the existence of this medieval kingdom and of the contemporary Gujars’ link to it” (pg. 74), hinting at their recent origins. These competitive claims by Jats and Gujjars over Rajput dynasties, engineered first by the Arya Samaj and later by the RSS, have only fractured agrarian unity rather than empowering marginalised groups.

Conclusion

While Hindutva’s historical revisionism primarily fuels anti-Muslim polarisation, it also functions to manage Hindu society—countering Dalit-Bahujan movements, fragmenting agrarian solidarity, and substituting governance with spectacle. The manufacture of history has become an ideological crutch for policy failure, deepening caste and communal fractures while hollowing historical consciousness itself. In this process, history is reduced from a means of understanding the past into an instrument of control, competition, and political distraction.

(The author is a mechanical engineer and an independent commentator on history and politics, with a particular focus on Rajasthan. His work explores the syncretic exchanges of India’s borderlands as well as contemporary debates on memory, identity and historiography)

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author’s personal views, and do not necessarily represent the views of Sabrangindia.

Related:

Temple Leases, Food Morality: Rajasthan’s new Panchayat order

Galgotias University’s AI Expo Debacle: What it says about Contemporary Indian Education & Public Culture

Rajasthan: Gogamedi, a Rajput-Muslim shrine and the politics of communal capture

The post When History substitutes Governance: Hindutva’s Politics of Manufacturing Pasts appeared first on SabrangIndia.

These are not isolated disruptions. When read alongside official data placed before the Odisha Legislative Assembly in March 2026—where Chief Minister Mohan Charan Majhi acknowledged 54 communal riots and 7 mob lynching incidents since June 2024—and a recent audit by the Comptroller and Auditor General of India exposing the exclusion of over 160,000 Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Group (PVTG) members from welfare schemes, a more systemic pattern begins to emerge.

Across districts and contexts, the incidents point to a convergence of communal polarisation, administrative inaction, coercive responses to dissent, and gaps in welfare delivery.

Church Vandalism in Keonjhar: Crime, silence, and communal retaliation

On April 6, 2026, a church in Murgagoth village under Anandpur police station in Keonjhar district was vandalised by a mob, as reported by The Hindu. The attack was triggered by allegations that a visually impaired minor girl had become pregnant after being sexually assaulted months earlier by a man from the same village—identified as her distant uncle.

Police officials confirmed that the alleged assault had not been reported prior to the incident. It was only when villagers recently became aware of the pregnancy that tensions escalated. In the early hours of April 6, when the church was unoccupied, a group of miscreants removed furniture, including chairs and an almirah, and set them on fire.

The accused was reportedly working in Tamil Nadu at the time. The delay in reporting the alleged sexual assault raises serious concerns about access to justice, barriers to reporting, and the vulnerability of the victim, particularly given her visual impairment. At the same time, the targeting of a place of worship reflects how criminal allegations were swiftly reframed through a communal lens.

The village itself, consisting of around 85 households, is almost evenly divided between Hindu and Christian residents. Police described the area as communally sensitive and deployed forces to prevent escalation. A complaint has now been filed regarding the alleged rape, but the sequence of events underscores a troubling dynamic—where due process is bypassed, and collective punishment is enacted before legal accountability is even initiated.

A State Under Strain: Rising communal violence and incomplete accountability

The Keonjhar incident is not an aberration. Data shared by Chief Minister Mohan Charan Majhi in the Odisha Legislative Assembly in March 2026 indicates that 54 communal riots and 7 mob lynching incidents have been recorded in the state between June 2024 and February 2026, according to Hindustan Times.

Nearly 300 individuals were arrested in connection with communal riots, and 61 people in lynching cases. However, the fact that chargesheets were filed in less than 50% of riot cases raises concerns about the effectiveness of investigations and the likelihood of convictions.

District-level data reveals concentrations of violence:

• Balasore: 24 riot cases
• Khurda (including Bhubaneswar): 16 cases
• Additional incidents in Koraput, Malkangiri, and Bhadrak

A government White Paper further recorded 122 communal incidents in 2025, including 16 involving Hindu-Christian tensions.

Yet, significant incidents appear underrepresented in official accounts. The October 2025 communal violence in Cuttack, which led to a three-day curfew following clashes during Durga Puja immersion, was not explicitly acknowledged in the Chief Minister’s reply. The violence reportedly escalated into arson and clashes involving members of right-wing organisations.

Over the past 20 months, multiple towns have experienced curfews, internet shutdowns, and mob violence, including incidents targeting Bengali-speaking Muslims. Officials have conceded that some cases may go unreported, particularly when victims are daily-wage earners reluctant to approach the police.

While the state has pointed to measures such as peace committees and strengthened intelligence gathering, the persistence of incidents and gaps in prosecution suggest a deeper issue of accountability and deterrence.

Rayagada Erupts: Tribal resistance, mining, and militarised policing

Tensions over land, resources, and consent erupted violently in Rayagada district in April 2026, where clashes broke out between tribal communities and security forces over a road construction project linked to the proposed Sijimali bauxite mine, as reported by Hindustan Times.

At least 70 people were injured, including 58 security personnel, after villagers allegedly resisted police with stones, axes, and other weapons. Police responded with tear gas, and prohibitory orders were imposed in the area.

The confrontation occurred in the context of long-standing opposition to the mining project led by Vedanta Limited, which secured rights to the Sijimali reserve in 2023. The project spans approximately 1,500 hectares, including over 700 hectares of forestland, and is expected to produce 9 million tonnes of bauxite annually.

For local tribal communities, however, the issue is existential. Residents have consistently argued that the project threatens their forests, water sources, livelihoods, and sacred landscapes. Central to the dispute is the requirement under the Forest Rights Act, 2006 that Gram Sabha consent must be obtained before forestland diversion.

Authorities have claimed that such consent was secured in 2023. However, multiple villages have since passed resolutions denying that these Gram Sabha meetings ever took place, alleging that approvals were fabricated.

The situation has been further aggravated by allegations of heavy-handed policing. Civil society groups and local organisations have reported:

• Night raids in villages
• Mass detentions, including women
• Use of tear gas and force in residential areas
• Deployment of drones and armed patrols restricting daily life

An open letter by the “Concerned Citizens Forum” described the police response as “barbaric” and called for withdrawal of forces, release of detained individuals, and cancellation of the mining project.

#Vedanta_Go_Back …..
Tribal people of Rayagada district #Odisha hv taken an oath to fight against corporate loot. pic.twitter.com/j0UJcTHSoB

— Amiya_Pandav ଅମିୟ ପାଣ୍ଡଵ Write n Fight (@AmiyaPandav) April 8, 2026

The clash is thus not merely a law-and-order issue, but part of a prolonged conflict over development, legality, and tribal autonomy.

Exclusion by design? CAG flags systemic welfare failures

Parallel to these conflicts, a structural crisis in governance emerges from the findings of the Comptroller and Auditor General of India. In an audit conducted between July 2024 and January 2025, the CAG found that 54% of Odisha’s PVTG population—around 160,000 people—remained excluded from welfare schemes.

Despite the Odisha PVTG Empowerment and Livelihood Improvement Programme (OPELIP), only 134,000 out of 294,000 individuals were covered as of March 2024. The exclusion was particularly stark in 1,138 newly identified villages, which were not integrated into the programme even years after recognition.

Key findings include:

• Three Micro Project Agencies (MPAs) created in 2020 remain non-functional, lacking both staff and funding
• Entire communities, such as the Birhor tribe (341 individuals), remain completely excluded
• ₹20.20 crore in funds remained unspent for over three years
• Basic data on infrastructure and services in tribal areas is missing or unavailable

The audit also flagged serious shortcomings in the Late Marriage Incentive Scheme, which reached only 58% of its target beneficiaries and covered just 43% of villages.

These findings reveal not just administrative inefficiency, but a pattern of systemic neglect, where even targeted interventions fail to reach the most vulnerable populations.

The complete CAG report may be viewed below:

Law, Power, and Impunity: MLA firing incident in Balangir

Questions of accountability were further sharpened by an incident in Balangir district in April 2026, where BJP MLA Naveen Jain was booked for allegedly firing blank rounds during a Ram Navami procession.

The firing, which took place in a crowded public setting, caused panic among attendees. Police registered a case under provisions of the Arms Act and the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, seized the weapon, and suspended the MLA’s Personal Security Officer.

Despite video evidence, the MLA claimed the weapon was a toy gun—a claim contradicted by police findings. Opposition leaders have argued that the incident reflects a broader pattern of political impunity, particularly given allegations of prior misconduct.

Conclusion

Taken together, the events across Odisha reveal a pattern that cannot be dismissed as episodic unrest. The Keonjhar church vandalism underscores how quickly allegations—particularly involving vulnerable victims—can be communalised in the absence of timely legal intervention. The Rayagada clashes expose the deep faultlines between state-led development and tribal rights, where questions of consent under the Forest Rights Act, 2006 remain unresolved and contested on the ground. The CAG’s findings on PVTG exclusion highlight a parallel reality of administrative neglect, where even designated welfare mechanisms fail to reach those most in need. Meanwhile, incidents like the Balangir firing case involving a sitting MLA raise troubling concerns about accountability and the uneven application of the law.

What binds these developments is not merely their occurrence within a short timeframe, but the institutional responses that follow—or fail to follow. Delayed complaints, incomplete investigations, underutilised funds, disputed consent processes, and selective enforcement together point to a governance framework struggling to maintain both legitimacy and trust.

In this context, the question is no longer limited to law and order. It is about whether state institutions can uphold due process, protect vulnerable communities, and mediate conflict without deepening it. The trajectory suggested by these incidents indicates that without structural course correction, Odisha risks moving further towards a landscape marked by normalised violence, contested authority, and systemic exclusion.

Related:

An Adivasi woman once in bonded labour now serves her village as a Sarpanch

Odisha: 18 months, 54 incidents of communal hate crimes, 7 mob lynchings

Odisha: Man forced to chant religious slogan, lynched by cow vigilantes

Publicly Tortured, Forced to Eat Cow Dung: No arrests in Odisha Pastor assault case

MP, Odisha, Delhi, Rajasthan: Right-wing outfits barge into 2 churches ahead of Christmas, attack vendors selling X’mas goodies, tensions run high

The post Fractured Fault lines: Violence, governance gaps, and rising tensions across Odisha appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Titled “Inside the Special Intensive Revision (SIR)”, the publication is positioned not only as a training manual to help citizens navigate the process, but also as an investigative and ground-based documentation of how the exercise is unfolding across states.

Drawing from field experiences in states such as West Bengal, Assam, Uttar Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, and Gujarat, the booklet argues that what is officially framed as a routine administrative revision has, in practice, become a site of widespread anxiety and potential disenfranchisement.

A handbook born out of crisis

The booklet explicitly states that it does not endorse the current SIR process. Instead, it frames itself as a defensive tool for citizens, aimed at helping them “navigate a hitherto unconstitutional hurdle” while documenting systemic irregularities.

It combines:

• Step-by-step guidance on procedures such as notices, hearings, and appeals
• Legal explanations of voter rights
• Ground reports and case studies
• Analysis of administrative and technological failures

This dual character—as both manual and critique—sets it apart from conventional reports. Most critically, it provides both procedural and factual information that can assist individuals and community workers who may navigate this process in states that have until now not undergone the SIR.

So far only 2003 Guidelines for a Special Intensive Revision (SIR)—the last such conducted –are available. The exercise started by controversial and sudden notifications in Bihar in June 2025 and thereafter in West Bengal, Uttar Pradesh, Gujarat and Tamil Nadu was based on periodic notifications –often then corrected by the Supreme Court of India (in ongoing cases). The Election Commission of India (ECI) has so far, not thought it fit to release any fresh set of guidelines.

Departure from earlier electoral revisions

A key argument advanced in the booklet is that the present SIR marks a significant departure from the last such exercise conducted in 2003.

According to the publication:

• The 2003 process was spread over six months and relied on existing electoral rolls and voter ID cards (EPIC)
• The current exercise is being conducted under compressed timelines, often close to elections
• Voters are now required to produce legacy data from 2002–2004 rolls, even if already registered

The booklet notes that such changes have shifted the process from one of facilitation to verification-heavy scrutiny.

The burden of legacy documentation

One of the central concerns highlighted is the present requirement (in the ongoing exercise in some of the abovementioned states) to trace names in decades-old electoral rolls (2002-2004).

For individuals:

• Born before 1987, locating their names in the 2002–2004 rolls is critical
• Born after 1987, the burden extends to tracing parental records

The booklet points out that these rolls have so far been poorly digitised, difficult to access, and available only in fragmented formats, making the process particularly challenging for marginalised groups.

Step by step, the Manual also guides the user on how to approach the process, understand the pressures on the administrative staff of the ECI (there have been several BLO deaths in other states due to unrealistic deadlines and pressures) and calmly insist of signatures and records of any details. Forms or documents submit. Most crucially of all, it advises the citizenry to interact with field and other officials of the SECs in different states and push for a voter-friendly, communicative and inclusive approach whenever the process is launched there.

Technology and “mechanical disenfranchisement”

The publication repeatedly uses the phrase “mechanical disenfranchisement” to describe the impact of digital systems deployed in the SIR.

It documents several recurring issues:

• Automated mapping of current voters with archival data
• Translation and transliteration errors across languages
• Algorithmic flags based on perceived “logical discrepancies”

These include mismatches in:

• Names
• Parentage
• Age gaps within families

According to the booklet, such discrepancies often arise from software limitations rather than actual ineligibility, yet they trigger notices and verification procedures.

Notices, hearings, and procedural pressure

The booklet provides detailed guidance on navigating SIR notices and hearings, while also documenting systemic challenges.

It notes that:

• Notices are issued to voters whose records cannot be “matched”
• Individuals must attend hearings to establish their eligibility
• The burden of proof lies heavily on the elector

The publication emphasises that these hearings are often conducted under tight timelines and administrative pressure, creating barriers for those unable to access documents quickly.

Misuse of Form 7 and objection process

Another area of concern is the alleged misuse of Form 7, which allows objections to the inclusion of a voter’s name.

The booklet documents instances of:

• Multiple objections filed against large numbers of voters
• Signatures appearing in inconsistent languages
• Individuals denying having filed objections in their own name
• Cases where even deceased persons were listed as objectors

It warns that such practices can convert a procedural safeguard into a tool for targeted exclusion.

Human Impact: Stress, Fear, and Administrative Pressure

Beyond procedural issues, the booklet records a significant human dimension to the SIR process.

Ground accounts point to:

• Anxiety among voters over possible deletion from rolls
• Difficulties faced by elderly individuals and daily wage workers
• Administrative pressure on Booth Level Officers (BLOs), who are required to meet strict targets

The publication also references instances of suicides linked to stress, both among voters and BLOs, underscoring the intensity of the situation on the ground.

Legal awareness and citizen response

A substantial portion of the booklet is devoted to legal literacy, outlining:

• The roles of electoral authorities such as BLOs, EROs, and District Election Officers
• The process for filing claims, objections, and appeals
• The right to a hearing and the principle of natural justice

It also provides draft formats for appeals and guidance on assembling documentary evidence.

A broader constitutional concern

While the booklet is framed as a practical guide, it advances a larger argument—that the current SIR risks altering the nature of electoral inclusion in India.

By requiring existing voters to repeatedly establish their eligibility, it raises questions about:

• The presumption of citizenship attached to electoral rolls
• The balance between administrative verification and democratic access
• The potential for exclusion through procedural complexity

A tool for navigation—and documentation

Ultimately, “Inside the Special Intensive Revision (SIR)” positions itself as both:

• A manual for survival within the system, and
• A record of how that system is functioning in practice

It reflects a moment where an electoral exercise is not only being implemented, but also contested, documented, and navigated simultaneously.

The complete booklet may be read here:

The press release may be read here:

The presentation may be accessed here:

Related:

VFD’s rebuttal of the Fadnavis’ Claims on Electoral Manipulation Allegations

VFD’s draft reports points to “electoral manipulation and irregularities” in Haryana and J&K 2024 assembly elections

Vote for Democracy (VFD) releases report on the conduct of General Election 2024

The Bihar Verdict 2025: How an election was engineered before votes were cast

The Stolen Franchise: Why the Election Commission cannot escape accountability

EXCLUSIVE: Solid empirical evidence of tampering in Voter’s List mustn’t let us forget EVM Manipulations: Computer Expert Madhav Deshpande

Major Irregularities in 2024 Maharashtra Vidhan Sabha Polls; Vote for Democracy

Vote for Democracy: Statistical, legal and procedural irregularities dot Bihar’s controversial SIR process

The post “Inside the SIR”: Booklet flags ‘mechanical disenfranchisement’ in electoral roll revision appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Combining detailed regional overviews with independent commentaries by Anjuman Ara Begum and N P Chekutty, along with insights from academics and activists on Puducherry, the report offers a layered account of how dissent, media, and electoral processes intersect in contemporary India. It locates the upcoming elections within a broader pattern of shrinking civic space, contested electoral practices, and increasingly polarised public narratives—raising fundamental concerns about the conditions necessary for free and fair democratic participation.

The report situates the 2026 elections within a larger context: a shrinking space for dissent, increasing use of censorship, and the growing normalisation of hate speech. Across all three regions, it identifies a pattern where free expression is not only challenged through formal legal mechanisms, but also through intimidation, institutional pressure, and political messaging that reshapes public discourse.

It also highlights the controversy surrounding the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls, which has raised concerns about exclusion, transparency, and voter confidence—placing the very foundation of electoral participation under scrutiny.

Assam: Systemic curtailment and the centrality of hate speech

The report’s coverage of Assam is extensive and sharply critical, documenting a sustained pattern of restrictions on free speech alongside the institutionalisation of polarising rhetoric.

It details how journalists and media workers faced criminal cases, arrests, and direct intimidation. A prominent editor was charged with sedition in 2025, while earlier instances included the detention of journalists for reporting on communal violence and the arrest of reporters investigating corruption. Physical attacks and coercion—such as forcing journalists to delete recorded material—further reinforced an environment of fear.

The report also points to more subtle forms of suppression, including the discontinuation of critical columns addressing human rights violations, indicating a climate where self-censorship becomes necessary for survival.

A significant episode cited is the complaint by the CPI(M) alleging that state broadcasters censored portions of its election speech critical of the government, raising concerns about electoral fairness and the misuse of public broadcasting platforms.

At the centre of the report’s Assam analysis is the pervasive use of hate speech. Political rhetoric targeting Bengali-speaking Muslims—particularly the “Miya” community—is described as sustained, deliberate, and electorally mobilising. Statements invoking economic boycotts, branding individuals as “traitors,” and linking communities to national security threats are documented as part of a broader narrative strategy.

The report further highlights the role of technology and disinformation, especially the circulation of AI-generated videos depicting violent and dehumanising imagery aimed at Muslims. These instances are presented as evidence of how digital tools are being deployed to intensify polarisation.

Legal responses, including petitions before courts, are noted—but the report underscores that such interventions have not significantly curbed the continuation of hate speech.

Additionally, it records attacks on media institutions, including the burning of newspaper bundles, and raises concerns about attempts to influence journalists through state-sponsored distributions, such as the gifting of smartphones.

Taken together, the report presents Assam as a case where free speech is constrained both structurally and atmospherically, with fear, lawfare, and polarisation reinforcing each other.

Kerala: Contestation, censorship, and civil society pushback

In contrast, the report’s examination of Kerala presents a more layered and contested environment. It acknowledges that free speech conditions in the state remain comparatively stronger, supported by a vibrant media ecosystem and an active civil society. However, this relative openness coexists with increasing instances of censorship and legal pressure.

The report documents the use of legal mechanisms, including FIRs and defamation case, against journalists, activists, and protestors. It also recounts the ban on a Malayalam news channel by the Union government, later overturned by the Supreme Court, as a key example of institutional censorship.

Cinema emerges as a major site of conflict. The report details:

• Judicial interventions affecting film reviews
• Controversies around propaganda films released in the run-up to elections
• Attempts to block screenings at international film festivals

These developments are framed as indicative of a broader struggle over narrative control in a state where cinema plays a central cultural role.

The report also examines the delayed and redacted release of the Justice Hema Committee report on the film industry, highlighting how even institutional inquiries into gender justice faced forms of informational control.

On the electoral front, it notes the emergence of communal rhetoric—traditionally less dominant in Kerala politics—and the legal challenges that followed, including court scrutiny of campaign speeches. At the same time, the report emphasises the role of public resistance. Civil society interventions, media plurality, and a politically aware citizenry have consistently pushed back against attempts to curb free expression.

However, it also flags emerging concerns: increasing corporate influence over media, declining investigative scrutiny, and growing public dissatisfaction—particularly among younger populations.

Kerala, therefore, is portrayed as a space of ongoing struggle, where democratic safeguards remain active but are under pressure.

Puducherry: Suppression of dissent and structural pressures

The report’s coverage of Puducherry highlights a different but equally significant pattern—where free speech is shaped by administrative control, campus politics, and broader structural inequalities.

A central focus is the curtailment of student expression. The report documents:

• Disciplinary action against students protesting fee hikes
• Disruption and criminalisation of cultural performances
• A controversial university code of conduct that triggered widespread protests

It further records police intervention in student movements, including lathi-charges, detentions, and arrests—underscoring the use of state force in response to dissent.

Journalists in the region also faced violence and intimidation, including physical attacks and verbal abuse during reporting.

Electoral processes come under scrutiny through the report’s discussion of the SIR exercise, which led to significant deletions of voters before partial corrections were made, raising concerns about disenfranchisement.

Beyond censorship, the report situates free speech within a broader political economy. It highlights:

• High levels of youth unemployment
• The dominance of wealthy candidates in elections
• The prevalence of candidates with criminal cases

These factors, it argues, shape the environment in which speech and dissent occur, often limiting meaningful participation in democratic processes.

The report also draws attention to the influence of centralised political power in the Union Territory, suggesting that local democratic autonomy is constrained.

Conclusion: A fragmented but converging crisis

Across Assam, Kerala, and Puducherry, the report does not present a uniform decline—but rather distinct trajectories of constraint.

• In Assam, free speech is undermined by criminalisation, intimidation, and the centrality of hate speech in political discourse.
• In Kerala, it is shaped by institutional pressures and censorship, countered by strong civil society resistance.
• In Puducherry, it is limited through administrative control, suppression of student activism, and structural inequalities.

Yet, despite these differences, the report identifies a common concern: the erosion of the conditions necessary for meaningful democratic participation. Free and fair elections, it argues, depend not only on the act of voting, but on the ability of citizens to speak, question, and dissent without fear. The persistence of censorship, the spread of hate speech, and the controversies surrounding electoral processes together signal a deeper challenge—one that extends beyond any single state or election cycle.

The complete report may be read below:

Related:

AERO dies by suicide in Kolkata, family alleges extreme election duty pressure and humiliation

No Hearing, No Notice, Just Deletion: How Bengal’s SIR Erased a Decorated IAF Officer

Rights group files complaint over electoral roll purges in North 24 Parganas

Alleged Pattern of Denigration: High Court seeks response from Himanta Biswa Sarma on PIL against his alleged hate speeches

The post Censorship and the Drumbeats of Hate: Mapping the state of free speech ahead of the 2026 polls appeared first on SabrangIndia.

According to the official police enquiry, Malabika, a resident of Garia and posted at Diamond Harbour BDO-I, returned home after work on the night of March 29, 2026. She went to bed with her daughter as usual. However, at around 1:00 AM, she suddenly fell critically ill and began vomiting. In a state of distress, she informed her husband, Amalesh Bhattacharyya, who was in another room, that she had consumed poison. The family immediately rushed her to Allied Nursing Home in Boral. As her condition deteriorated, she was shifted to Ruby General Hospital on March 30 for advanced treatment. Despite medical intervention, she succumbed to the effects of poisoning on March 31, 2026, at approximately 8:30 AM.

Family’s account and allegations

The bereaved family has attributed her extreme step to the overwhelming pressure arising from her official responsibilities, particularly those linked to the SIR of electoral rolls.

Her husband has stated that Malabika had been under severe mental strain for several months due to the heavy workload associated with SIR duties. He further alleged that she had recently faced humiliation in connection with her work, which deeply affected her. On the night of the incident, after returning home, she reportedly spoke about the distressing experience. Later, when her condition worsened, she confessed to having consumed pesticide. Despite immediate efforts to save her, her condition continued to decline, ultimately leading to her death. The husband has also raised allegations against the Election Commission, claiming that the work pressure imposed on her was excessive and unmanageable.

Allegations of work-induced stress

The incident has foregrounded serious concerns about work-induced stress among election officials tasked with high-stakes administrative responsibilities.

Family members and relatives have consistently maintained that Malabika was struggling with an unsustainable workload for a prolonged period. According to them, the demands of the SIR process had left her mentally exhausted and overwhelmed. They revealed that she had expressed her inability to cope with the mounting pressure and had even contemplated resigning from her position. Significantly, the official police enquiry also records that she had been “suffering from mental depression for the last few months due to SIR,” thereby lending weight to the family’s assertions.

Police Action and Ongoing Investigation

Following the incident, the Bansdroni Police Station registered an Unnatural Death (UD) case (No. 22/26 dated March 31, 2026) and initiated a detailed investigation into the circumstances surrounding her death.

At present, no formal complaint has been lodged by the family or any other party. However, the police have conducted an inquest and arranged for a post-mortem examination to determine the exact cause of death and to preserve medico-legal evidence. The investigation remains ongoing, and authorities are expected to examine all relevant aspects, including the alleged work-related stress factors.

 A nationwide pattern of electoral fatigue

Tragically, Bhattacharyya’s death is not an isolated incident but part of a grim, nationwide pattern linked to the SIR exercise. Across India, compressed timelines, technical failures, and coercive supervision have pushed grassroots election workers to the brink. In West Bengal alone, Booth Level Officers (BLOs) like Rinku Tarafdar and Shantimoni Ekka took their own lives late last year, explicitly citing unbearable pressure, faulty digital apps, and language barriers.

Similar tragedies have unfolded in Uttar Pradesh, where officials like Sudhir Kumar Kori died by suicide after being denied leave for his own wedding under threat of dismissal. From Gujarat to Kerala—where a BLO’s death triggered a statewide boycott—and Tamil Nadu, workers have succumbed to extreme distress, with some even suffering fatal, stress-induced strokes and heart attacks. These cascading tragedies reveals a systemic crisis, highlighting the urgent need to address the harrowing human cost of rigid administrative mandates.

Related:

SIR exercise leaves trail of suicide across states as BLOs buckle under pressure and citizens panic over citizenship

Pregnant woman deported despite parents on 2002 SIR rolls, another homemaker commits suicide

Haunted by NRC fears, 57-year-old West Bengal man dies by suicide; Mamata blames BJP for turning democracy into a “theatre of fear”

The post AERO dies by suicide in Kolkata, family alleges extreme election duty pressure and humiliation appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Just two days ago, the High Court quashed a petition seeking permission to re-conduct the Neja Mela in Sambhal, held in memory of Ghazi Mian, directing the petitioner instead to approach a lower court.[1] Notably, the very need to seek such permission did not arise from any explicit judicial ban, but rather from a discretionary determination by state authorities deeming the event “impermissible.”

Uttar Pradesh has long been home to such heterodox sects who made their presence felt across the hinterland, away from the metropolis dominated by traditional religious authority. Similar to Sufis of Maghreb their proponents often came from both communities —Rajputs in Hindus, Afghans, Syeds and Arabs among Muslims— who were primarily military adventurers as described by Christopher Bayly in his magnum opus Rulers, Townsmen and Bazaars. Engaging in agricultural administration and military occupations simultaneously these members of the landed class found themselves dwelling on socio-spiritual questions while living among the common peasantry compared to established, orthodox religious life.

The Syncretic Cult of Ghazi Miyan 

Originally venerated by pastoral communities across the Indo-Gangetic plain, the cult of Ghazi Miyan is tied to the lore of a horse-riding warlord—comparable in some respects to the Rajput Panch-Pir traditions of Rajasthan—believed to have arrived from the west and to have long-standing associations with cattle-rearing groups, particularly Ahīrs. Local tradition holds that when he laid claim to the area around Suraj Kund in Bahraich as his base, he encountered resistance from a regional chieftain.

According to legend, in the ensuing conflict he initially refrained from attacking cattle, and was eventually ‘martyred’ by a local Rajput chief identified as Suhel Dev. As Shahid Amin argues in Conquest and Community: The Afterlife of Saint Ghazi Miyan, the story of Ghazi Miyan represents a layered narrative shaped through repeated retellings—rooted in the idiom of the warrior-saint tradition and embedded within a local sacred geography marked by symbols such as the Mahua tree and betel leaf, both predominantly associated with Hindu cultural practices. In this sense, the myth reflects a shared, non-sectarian history of conflict, accommodation, and social realities rather than a rigidly communal past.

Besides the objections of Ulema, earlier one such attempt is credited to Sikanadar Lodi (Uttar Taimur Kaleen Bharat, S.A.A. Rizvi) who banned the procession of spears, citing orthodoxy. However, opposed to attempts post-1870s, the strategy changed to ‘nationalist’ social engineering post 1920s, which saw the valorisation of Suheldev. Evidently, contrary to claims of extremism, the tradition of Neja Mela (where Muslims replace the flag atop the pole of shape of the Neja i.e. spear) in Sambhal is no different than Zohra Bibi-Ghazi Miyan ka Mela, celebrated in Bahraich in the memory of their aborted marriage before which he was ‘martyred’.

Shivnarayanis 

In contrast to the more visible syncretic cults—many of which have been subjected to reinterpretation within Hindutva frameworks due to their prominence in public discourse—there exist other syncretic traditions in Uttar Pradesh that have largely evaded such interventions. The Shivnarayani, which is one such tradition, is a sect from eastern Uttar Pradesh with a history spanning nearly three centuries. Founded by Shivnarayan Singh—born in 1686 into a Narauni (Pratihara) Rajput family in Ballia—the tradition articulated what he called Sant Mat (the “creed of the Saints”), with individual adherents known as Sants. As his 10th direct descendant and head of the Panth, Jagatguru Amarjeet Singh explains, Santpati signifies that anyone who truly lives the path of ultimate truth can be considered a Sant. Rejecting the corruptibility of fixed hierarchies and institutional authority, Shivnarayan emphasized a deliberately non-ritualistic framework—eschewing temples and idols in favour of temporary chauris, often structured in seven steps symbolizing both the seven chakras and the seven heavens.

The sect’s founding narrative is tied to the Mughal emperor Muhammad Shah Rangila, who is said to have summoned Bagh Rai, Shivnarayan’s father, to Delhi over unpaid dues during a famine. Shivnarayan accompanied him to the imperial court around 1732. According to tradition, while imprisoned, news of his spiritual powers reached the emperor, who tested him by killing a cow and challenging him to restore it to life. The episode, as narrated within the sect, culminates not merely in a miracle but in a moral transformation: Shivnarayan compels the emperor to confront the futility of senseless violence, leading to a change of heart and his initiation into the fold. The enduring legacy of this encounter is reflected in the continued presence of Muslims as chharidars (ceremonial guards) for the head of the panth and its monastic institutions—an institutionalized symbol of the sect’s syncretic ethos.

Drawing upon his own feudal background—where the Naraunis had historically controlled clusters of villages under the ṭappas of Sukhpura, Bansdih, and Kharauni—Shivnarayan was uniquely positioned to challenge Brahminical orthodoxy. He is credited with opening the doors of organized religious practice, albeit stripped of conventional ritualism, and embedding within it a strong message of social equality. This appeal resonated particularly among marginalized communities, including Dalits, across eastern Uttar Pradesh, and later spread to regions such as Bihar, Nepal, Uttarakhand, Malwa, and Punjab.

Although the number of adherents and initiated Sants has declined over time, the sect’s message continues to find expression in its distinctive funerary practices: when a Sant departs for Nij Dham, the body is interred rather than cremated, accompanied by Bhojpuri verses from Sant Vilas. Such practices underscore a worldview that resists rigid religious binaries. As thinkers like Gail Omvedt have noted, the imposition of doctrinal divisions since early modernity has largely emanated from centres of power, while among marginalized communities, traditions emphasizing harmony over conflict, cooperation over coercion, and faith as a means of transcendence have remained more deeply rooted. This ethos finds parallels in imagined sacred spaces such as Anandpur associated with Guru Nanak, Begampura envisioned by Kabir, and Sant Lok articulated within the Shivnarayani tradition.

Arya Samaj’s war on syncretic beliefs

Influenced by a Protestant-inflected model of spiritual morality—marked by defined theology, rigid religious boundaries, hierarchical authority, and codified norms—alongside the transformative effects of print capitalism, 19th-century revivalist movements began to cast a suspicious eye on syncretic traditions. Reformist currents, particularly those associated with the Arya Samaj, as well as strands of both Hindu and Muslim orthodoxy, increasingly dismissed such blended practices with derision, often labelling them disparagingly as khichri. Emerging from metropolitan centres and gaining traction among the educated urban middle classes, these reformist voices promoted a Sanskritic, text-centred epistemology—albeit not without contesting traditional authorities—and advanced a more congregational, collectivist religious identity. This marked a departure from the diffuse, practice-based, and often individualized nature of older Hindu traditions, especially those shaped by karmic doctrine.

By the early 20th century, many of some reformist actors—especially those linked to the Arya Samaj—had entered the arena of electoral politics, positioning themselves as agents of reason and enlightenment within formations like the Indian National Congress, while simultaneously fuelling a parallel reformist zeal within right-leaning organisations. This ideological convergence across the political spectrum became particularly visible in events such as the 1950 fair commemorating Suheldev, organised by the Arya Samaj, and inaugurated by Congress leaders—despite the backdrop of communal unrest and the imposition of Section 144.

Khwaja of the Thakurs

Folk traditions of indebtedness often stem from simple ancestral memories. As noted by Sharique Ahmad Khan, the Bais Rajputs of Azamgarh trace one such episode to Khwaja Minhaj, a Mughal officer, who rescued a wounded man—Mainpar Dev—from a well after he had been left for dead. Dev later rose in Minhaj’s service, and upon the latter’s death, inherited his estate and built his tomb, giving rise to the name Minhajpur (Mehnajpur).

In a lasting mark of gratitude, Bais Rajputs adopted the Muslim style of tying the mirzai to the right, protected local Muslim communities, and continue to contribute to the annual urs at the shrine.

Conclusion 

While presenting itself as reformist, Hindutva remains tethered to a Brahminical cosmopolis. Even as it challenges ritual hierarchies and orthodox authority, it consistently targets syncretic traditions that unsettle its rigid binaries.

Across the Indo-Gangetic plain, however, long-standing, symbiotic belief systems—rooted in marginalised communities and distant from metropolitan influence—have persisted outside the frameworks of both organized religion and modern ideological constructs. Often overlooked or suppressed, these traditions continue to embody and transmit a lived ethos of interfaith and intercultural harmony. 

(The author is a post graduate scholar, a MA in History, specialising in medieval and pre-modern History from University of Delhi. His interests include heritage research, social and environmental histories)

[1] https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/meerut/sambhal-cops-deny-permission-for-historic-neja-mela-commemorating-plunderer-ghaznavis-commander/articleshow/119125961.cms; Note the contradictory even provocative headline in Times of India, on the one hand calling the Neja Mela “historic” and on the other hand almost legitimising the terms used by hardline objectors, “..commemorating plunderer Ghaznavis”!!

Related:

Rajasthan: Gogamedi, a Rajput-Muslim shrine and the politics of communal capture

The post UP’s syncretic warrior cults facing Hindutva challenge appeared first on SabrangIndia.

High-Flying Service: The Decorated Career of Wing Cdr Akhtar

Wing Commander Akhtar, commissioned into the Indian Air Force on 15 December 2006, served the nation with distinction for 17 years. His career included key roles across the country—from training nearly 2,000 airmen at Air Force Station Tambaram to administrative leadership postings in Chandigarh and Allahabad. He also represented India internationally in a Young Officers’ Exchange Program with the Royal Thai Air Force.

He played a crucial role during the devastating 2018 Kerala floods, coordinating rescue and relief operations while serving at the Southern Air Command. After taking voluntary retirement (VRS) in July 2022 due to family commitments, Akhtar has been actively mentoring youth aspiring to join the armed forces and working with underprivileged students.

From Combat to Courtroom: A Veteran’s Fight for the Vote

According to Akhtar, his name was placed “under adjudication” during the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR). However, before he could even be called for a hearing, his name was deleted in the second supplementary list released on March 28, 2026.

The Wing Commander (Retd) claims he followed all instructions issued by the Election Commission and remained in constant touch with the BLO at every step. “My name was there in the final list, so I had nothing to act on. But in the first supplementary list on March 23, it was marked ‘under adjudication’. I contacted my BLO, Mondal, but he did not tell me any procedure to follow and assured me that it would be restored automatically. Then on March 28, when my name was deleted in the second list, the BLO told me to hire a lawyer and approach the tribunal,” rued Akhtar.

What makes the case more puzzling is that:

Longevity: His name had been part of the electoral rolls since 2002.

Family Status: His family members’ names continue to remain on the list.

Lack of Due Process: No formal hearing or opportunity for clarification was provided.

The incident has sparked outrage among sections of civil society, with some questioning whether the deletion could be linked to the officer’s identity as a Muslim. “When a decorated officer with an impeccable service record is denied even a hearing, it naturally raises questions,” said Athar Firdausi, a rights activist.

Recently, Alt News, in its report “Bengal SIR: The Wall ECI Built Around Electoral Data and How We Broke Through It,” highlighted large-scale discrepancies, claiming that voters from communities less likely to support the BJP were disproportionately targeted for deletion or placed under doubt.

However, the Wing Commander is not the only alleged victim of the controversial SIR process. The list is long. eNewsroom has also reported that AGWB gazetted officer Reshma Shirin Iqbal’s name was deleted in a similar manner. Former Calcutta High Court judge Sahidullah Munshi’s name was also removed, and he publicly stated that the experience was not only humiliating but left him unsure of where to seek redress. It has also been reported that the names of the grandson and granddaughter-in-law of Indian Constitution illustrator Nandalal Bose were dropped.

Courtesy: https://enewsroom.in

The post No Hearing, No Notice, Just Deletion: How Bengal’s SIR Erased a Decorated IAF Officer appeared first on SabrangIndia.

But what if we pause and think about the thousands of modern day slaves in India who continue to work under almost the same conditions? 

As India marks 50 years of the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976, cases of bonded labour still surface in states like Telangana. Many workers in sectors such as agriculture, brick kilns, fishing and construction remain trapped in debt and coercion. The only thing that has changed is that it is no longer the 3rd century BCE, but the 21st century. 

Pursala Lingamma’s story emerges from this reality. Once a bonded labourer, she later entered public life and today serves her village as its Sarpanch.

Pursala Lingamma, Sarpanch of Amaragiri village

“At night, our seth(master) locked our children in a separate room so that we would not run away. If we tried to escape, we would have to leave our children behind. That is how we remained trapped in slavery for nearly three decades.” – says Pursala Lingamma 

P Lingamma, once trapped in conditions of forced slavery, went on to become the Sarpanch of a village with hundreds of rescued individuals. Lingamma hails from Amaragiri village in Nagarkurnool district, Telangana. For over three decades, her family, along with 44 other families from the Chenchu tribe (an aboriginal community listed among the Particularly Vulnerable Tribal Groups in India) was trapped in bonded labour. 

“The community’s complete rescue was a miracle. We had to suffice in the given boat and equipment for fishery and had never imagined that we could ever be free. My parents and the whole community had lost all hope. ” – she adds. 

They were trapped by three local businesspersons who controlled most of the fishing trade in the area. Through debt and coercion, Lingamma’s family, along with many other families, were forced to sell the fish they caught at extremely low prices. While the market price was around Rs 60, they were made to sell it for just Rs5. They were denied access to fair markets and were even subjected to physical abuse, leaving constitutional guarantees only on paper.

Rescued from Bonded Labour 

However, the turning point came when a civil society organisation, the Foundation for Sustainable Development (FSD), stepped in. Established in 2004, FSD works to eradicate bonded labour across several Indian states, including Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Odisha and West Bengal. 

“Due to migration and the search for a stable livelihood, these tribal groups, most of them illiterate, get trapped by local businessmen. They are often threatened and abused so that they do not speak against them.” – Dr. Kandasamy Krishnan, Executive Director of FSD and Convenor of the National Adivasi Solidarity Council (NASC)

Krishnan speaks about the deep fear among the survivors of Chenchu tribe in Amaragiri village. For generations, these families had been catching fish from the Krishna River and selling it locally for around Rs. 100 per kilogram. The same fish could earn up to Rs. 1,000 per kilogram in markets in West Bengal. In other words, they were getting barely one-tenth of its real value. Yet most of them were afraid to complain to officials, fearing they might lose even this small income, if they engage with officers. Krishnan adds that among the 106 people who were rescued, only two could read and write, which made it even harder for them to understand their constitutional rights and speak up against them in front of officers.

Lingamma’s Leadership Journey

Lingamma attended several leadership sessions conducted by the Foundation for Sustainable Development and waited for the right opportunity to show her abilities. She is one of the 2,900 rescued survivors by FSD, who has received leadership training. Today, many of them are leading participants in different fields such as local politics, markets, working at handicrafts and self-help groups. However, their journey, even after the rescue, is not easy. It is only their first step. 

For the first time, the position of Sarpanch in Amargiri village was reserved for a woman from a Scheduled Tribe. It was then that a cousin of Lingamma encouraged her to contest the election, thinking that the position could later be taken over by him. She hesitated at first, but eventually decided to step in and make use of the opportunity. However, she faced heavy criticism for contesting, especially because she was a woman and that too from the Chenchu tribe.

Lingamma says, “The village was already divided among different tribes. When I got nominated, it soon turned into a gender conflict as well. The toughest time for me was not the haunting decades of slavery, but the months before the election, when the men of my own community stood against me.” 

The villagers were deeply divided in their opinions about a woman’s capability to hold such a significant position in the political arena. They doubted a woman’s ability to conduct meetings with bureaucrats, negotiating and bargaining the interest of the community wisely. Many were sceptical, but she was confident. She went ahead and mobilised male voters by taking up their daily issues and also assured the women that she would be a strong and accountable leader. After conducting numerous local Sabhas to engage with opposing forces, the tribe slowly consolidated and she won the first election of her political journey. Later, despite being offered monetary bait of Rs10 lakh to transfer the real authority to her cousin, Lingamma declined to sell the trust of her own people. Today, she stands as an epitome of women’s empowerment for the whole of Amaragiri.

Developmental Road Ahead after Winning

Lingamma’s leadership as Sarpanch has played an important role in establishing the economic independence of Amaragiri. 

Lingamma is currently focusing on education and has been working to lay the foundation for school buildings in the village. She is also pushing for the establishment of a community hall for her community, which is still awaiting sanction. Along with this, she hopes to soon ensure access to drinking water and improve road infrastructure, as the village remains largely isolated from the outside world.

She says, “Amaragiri should not be known as a village of bondage, but for its progress and for the leadership of a tribal woman.”

Post-rescue, survivors have organised themselves into the Amaragiri Released Bonded Labourers Association (RBLA) in effort to secure government benefits, and launched initiatives like a fish-processing unit to ensure economic independence in their age-old profession. The Chenchu community of Amaragiri were able to obtain government funds as well, of approximately 40 lakh rupees, to start a Fishing Cooperative and purchase vehicles to take the fish to city markets. 

Her victory is historic, not just for her but for the entire community. It symbolises a complete reversal of decades of oppression and a beacon of hope for other marginalized communities. 

At the heart of this transformation stands Sarpanch P. Lingamma. 

Her journey is recently recognised in a feature by Eenadu, a Telugu newspaper, on March 18, 2026 titled “From Struggle to Recognition: An Inspiring Journey of Resilience.”

On the occasion of International Women’s Day, Lingamma was also among nine Elected Women Representatives from across the country who were felicitated by the Indian School of Democracy at the Constitution Club of India. ISD is a non-partisan organisation that works to nurture principled grassroots political leaders committed to strengthening Indian democracy.

(The author is a Political Science student at Lady Shri Ram College for Women, Delhi University, and an independent journalist writing on polity, governance, and social issues.)

Related:

Raid on Adivasi leader Manish Kunjam for ‘seeking investigation into the tendu patta bonu scam’, condemned by rights groups

Appeal to Political Parties, Visit Bastar, Initiate a Dialogue, Restore Fundamental Rights

Attack on Prof Sanjay Kumar Roundly Condemned

The post An Adivasi woman once in bonded labour now serves her village as a Sarpanch appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Roy cited the case of Ripon Mollya, whose name was deleted despite his family’s long-standing voter registration in the constituency, and Jesmina Khatoon, whose name was purged following her marriage, even though both her parents and husband are registered voters. He noted that in Booth No. 56 of Swarupnagar Assembly Constituency, 13 names were deleted on February 28, followed by another 52 on March 23, with most belonging to legitimate citizens.

The letter accuses electoral officers of procedural failures, including ignoring Form 6 applications and petitions submitted to the District Election Officer and District Magistrate. Roy warned that “silly clerical typos” and departmental whims were being used to disenfranchise marginalized communities in border villages. He described the ongoing Special Intensive Revision as “chaotic” and “non-transparent,” turning what should be a citizen-friendly process into an instrument of harassment.

Calling the exercise of power a public trust, Roy demanded immediate restoration of the names of Ripon Mollya and Jesmina Khatoon, a time-bound inquiry into ignored applications, and directives to ensure marginalized populations are not excluded due to minor technicalities. “We look forward to your immediate intervention to end this ‘nightmare’ for these families and to uphold the sanctity of our democracy,” Roy wrote.

This complaint underscores growing concerns about electoral integrity and the protection of voting rights in sensitive border regions.

Courtesy: Counterview

The post Rights group files complaint over electoral roll purges in North 24 Parganas appeared first on SabrangIndia.