Cops beat a demonstrator during an anti-Sterlite protest in Tuticorin
Credit: PTI Photo
The observations made by judges during hearings often make sensational headlines, but perhaps few remarks have been as unexpected as those made recently by a bench of the Madras High Court. Referring to the police firing that killed 13 protesters on May 22, 2018, in Thoothukudi, Tamil Nadu, the judges remarked that they believed the firing was “a predetermined act’’ carried out at “the behest of an industrialist”.
Police firings on protesters have not been uncommon in India, but rarely have courts made the connection between the powerful people against whom the protests are aimed at, and the police. The last time such a connection was made was after the assassination of trade unionist Shankar Guha Niyogi who transformed the lives of unorganised miners and workers in Chhattisgarh in the 1970s and 1980s.
A few months before Niyogi was shot as he slept in his room in September 1991, he had handed over to the police two letters received by him, as well as his video statement, all three referring to a conspiracy to kill him.
The CBI named not just the gunmen who shot Niyogi, but also four industrialists as the accused, including the owners of Simplex Industries and Oswal Iron & Steel. Convicted by the trial court, they were acquitted by the high court and the Supreme Court, which held there was no proof of conspiracy. Fourteen years after Niyogi was killed, a lone gunman was sentenced to life.
But the Madras High Court’s remarks in the Sterlite firing case go beyond the CBI’s conclusions in the Niyogi case. First, the connection being made is not between hired killers and industrialists, both private entities, but between an industrialist and the police, which is an arm of the State, paid for by public money to uphold the law fairly.
Second, this connection is made not by the usual suspects (victims, human rights groups), or even investigative agencies, but by the judges presiding over the case. The implications of such a statement are significant. The judges’ suspicion makes sense if we look at the events before and after the firing.
Why did 50,000 protesters gather in Thoothukudi on May 22, 2018? The march to the collectorate was to mark the 100th day of widespread protests against the expansion plans of Sterlite Copper, India’s largest copper smelter, run by the Vedanta group. Despite official reports and court findings about the pollution caused by the plant, it was allowed to operate.
Six years later, courts are still debating the details of the incident, despite inquiries held by the NHRC and a judicial commission. In 2022, the Justice Aruna Jagadeesan Commission indicted 17 police officers and the district collector for mishandling the situation. Despite knowing that thousands of protesters were to converge at the collectorate, the district collector left it to his subordinates to conduct a dialogue with some, not all of the leaders, said the commission. It also rejected the police’s claim that they had to fire because the protesters had turned violent. Bullet wounds on the dead showed that they had been shot while retreating.
None of the commission’s recommendations have been implemented, though the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam had promised to do so in its election campaigns in 2019 and 2021. Activists such as Henri Triphagne and the CPI(M)’s K Arjunan have constantly kept the case in the public gaze. Among the victims, only the mother of a 17-year-old has approached the court. The rest are, expectedly, too demoralised to fight on and on.
It is in this context that the remarks of the Madras High Court assume grave significance. When the system has supported those who shot down the protesters, here come two judges who don’t hesitate to say what those who lived through the firing have been saying. Will these remain mere words, like many oral pronouncements by judges that find no echo in their judgments? It seems not, for in the same hearing where they made these remarks, the judges ordered a probe into the assets of all the officials named by the commission, as well as their spouses. The court also accused the CBI of “being in tandem” with these officials, given the way the agency had let them off.
“Voiceless people were at the receiving end, the persons in helm [sic] of affairs could not tolerate the prolonged, peaceful stir; and one industrialist wanted to teach a lesson and the officials acted accordingly.” After giving voice to the voiceless in these words, surely the court won’t let them down.
(Jyoti Punwani is a senior journalist.)
Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.