Volume 23 - Issue 01, Jan. 14 - 27, 2006
India's National Magazine
from the publishers of THE HINDU
Keezhavenmani revisited
S. VISWANATHAN
The Keezhavenmani massacre of December 25, 1968, by landlords and their henchmen, which was all but ignored by the mainstream press, is poignantly brought to life in a documentary film.
TIME, they say, is the best healer. But certain wounds, especially
those that remain in the collective memory of a society, defy the
saying. This was quite in evidence at a function held in Chennai on
December 18 to mark the release of a documentary film, perhaps the first ever, on the massacre of 44 people, mostly women and children belonging to families of Dalit agricultural workers, nearly 40 years ago at Keezhavenmani village, 25 km from Nagappatttinam in TamilNadu.
The film, Ramiahvin Kudisai (The Hut of Ramiah), narrates how they were burnt alive in a hut where they had taken refuge. The story is told by some of the survivors, who break down, unable to contain their grief and anger, even after such a long time. It is a detailed account of the violence perpetrated by landlords intolerant of the growing
strength of the agricultural workers' movement in the region. Most of
the invitees, who watched in silence the one-hour film produced by The
Roots and directed by Bharathi Krishnakumar, were seen wiping their
tears at the end of the screening.
Keezhavenmani has gone into the history of the country's agrarian
movement not only as an example of the supreme sacrifice of the
toiling masses in their struggle for liberation from economic
exploitation and social oppression, but also as a frightening reminder
of the ruthless ways in which their oppressors try to protect vested
interests. Thousands of people, including activists of the Left and
Dalit parties, gather at the village on December 25 every year, the
day on which the tragedy took place in 1968, to pay their respects at
the martyrs' memorial.
Strangely, however, the coverage of the incident in the mainstream
newspapers was inadequate. The reports were even misleading in certain
respects. For instance, many newspapers described the incident as a
clash between two sections of kisans, or between two groups of
agricultural workers, all for a wage hike of just half a measure of
rice. The incident was apparently seen in isolation of the
developments during the preceding months. The larger socio-economic
aspects of it were by and large ignored. The documentary fills the gap
to a great extent. It answers many questions, such as why and how the
massacre happened and what roles the police, the State government and
political parties played.
The documentary brings to light many a hidden fact through the
personal accounts of some of the accused in the case relating to the
arson, their close relatives, and a retired police official. The
documentary, with the help of a lot of meticulously collected
background material, presents the incident as part of the decades-long
struggle by under-paid and under-fed agricultural workers for a better
living. In this perspective, any study of the Keezhavenmani massacre
has to be made in the light of the agrarian movement in the rice-rich
undivided Thanjavur district during the preceding three decades.
THANJAVUR district, prior to its division, accounted for nearly 30 per
cent of the State's paddy production, thanks to its rich irrigation
facilities. Thousands of acres of land were in the possession of
temples, Hindu religious mutts and zamindars, a class of people
created by the British to collect land revenues for the government.
Thirty per cent of the cultivable land was in the possession of 5 per
cent of the landholders. Fifty-five per cent of the temple and mutt
lands were under the control of the cultivating tenants. There were
also small and marginal farmers. The district had a large presence of
agricultural workers, most of them Dalits who were treated as slaves
(pannai adimaigal). Dalits were therefore oppressed both socially and
economically. They suffered the worst forms of untouchability, being
denied access to public wells, rivers, streets and temples.
It was under these circumstances that the communist movement struck
root in the district. With agricultural workers being mostly Dalits
and a significant number of marginal and small landholders being from
the socially backward castes, the communists had to integrate the
fight against economic oppression and social oppression with the
cooperation of both these sections. Under the guidance of leaders such
as A.K. Gopalan, B. Srinivasa Rao and Manali C. Kandasami, the
communists first organised the cultivating tenants, who were at the
mercy of zamindars, temples and mutts, and then agricultural workers.
Long struggles by them for protection from eviction led to the
abolition of the zamindari system with the adoption of the Tamil Nadu
Estates (Abolition and Conversion into Ryotwari) Act, 1948; the
Tanjore Pannaiyal Protection Act, 1952 (later repealed) and the Tamil
Nadu Tenants Protection Act, 1955.
The Tamil Nadu Cultivating Tenants (Payment of Fair Rent) Act, 1956,
was meant to ensure that the tenants paid a fair rent. With the
abolition of the zamindari system, a new class of marginal farmers
emerged, besides the small farmers. Similarly, the mechanisation of
agriculture that came with large allotment of funds for agriculture in
the First Five-Year Plan brought in the daily-wage earners. In the
1950s a Minimum Wages Act fixing wages for farm workers came into
being. The communist agricultural workers' unions demanded agreements
on payment of wages for both cultivation and harvest periods. In the
1960s, thanks to developments such as border wars, steep fall in food
production and certain actions of the Union government, such as,
devaluation of the Indian rupee in 1966, there was a spurt in prices
of agricultural commodities giving fillip to demands for higher wages
in several places. A separate organisation for championing the cause
of agricultural workers were later formed.
The peasant movement in the State also agitated for reducing the
concentration of land in the hands of a few by fixing a ceiling on
holdings and for redistributing the surplus land among the landless
agricultural workers. The Tamil Nadu Land Reforms (Fixation of
Ceiling) Act, 1961, came into being. It is another matter that the
Act, riddled with loopholes, ensured that not much land was declared
as surplus.
Before achieving these, however, the tenants, small and marginal
landholders and agricultural workers had to confront the money power
and political influence of the landowners at several levels. The
confrontation often led to violence and loss of lives. The police were
invariably on the side of the landowners. Many people, including some
frontline leaders, were killed in police firings. Interestingly, in
the early years of the agitations for increased wages, agricultural
workers and agriculturists signed wage accords in the presence of the
police. The workers intensified their struggles when landholders
refused to pay the wages agreed upon and threatened to replace them
with workers from other places.
The Paddy Producers Association, a militant organisation of
landholders, emerged. The association not only refused to pay higher
wages but also threatened landholders intent on implementing the wage
accord with dire consequences. In 1966, the union organised rallies
and a strike in the district demanding appointment of a tripartite
committee. But the Congress government in the State refused to yield.
Next year, the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) came to power in
alliance with the Communist Party of India (Marxist). The union
renewed the plea for a tripartite committee to settle the wage issue,
but the DMK government also was in no mood to accept it. However,
following the death in police firing of a union worker who was trying
to protect the union flag from attack allegedly by the men of
landlords at Poonthazhangudi village on October 6, 1967, the State
government convened a tripartite conference at Mannargudi, which fixed
the wages for the short-term crop. It was valid only for a year.
Meanwhile, the Nagappattinam taluk unit of the Paddy Producers
Association came under the control of Irinjur Gopalakrishna Naidu, a
landlord, who formed a brigade of volunteers allegedly to oppress the
workers through intimidation, undertake harvest operations, and let
loose terror.
THIS was the situation when the Keezhavenmani carnage happened. The
major issue was the refusal of landlords to yield to the agricultural
workers' demand for higher wages since the earlier agreement had
lapsed. The workers demanded six litres of paddy for every 48 litres
harvested, but the Paddy Producers Association did not agree. Wherever
workers insisted on the higher wage, the association arranged for
carrying out harvest operations with "outside" labour in violation of
the understanding between the disputants under earlier wage accords.
K.BARANIDHARAN
A glass urn containing the remains of the victims, collected a few
days after the incident by freedom fighter I. Maayandi Bharathi. The
urn is now kept at the memorial for the victims at Keezhavenmani.
Wherever the landlord offered to pay higher wages, the Producers
Association protested and warned of counter action. The association
allegedly threatened the agricultural workers in Keezhavenmani around
December 10 that their huts would be torched. Leaders of agricultural
workers said that the taluk secretary of the CPI(M) and party
legislator K.R. Gnanasambandan had written to the State Chief
Secretary about the threat and asked for protection to them. (But a
communication from the Chief Secretary, however, reportedly stated
that the legislator's letter had reached him only in January.) Both
the letters were of no avail.
The apprehensions of the labour leaders were proved right on December
25. The Hindu's lead story on December 27, 1968, reported that 42
persons, mostly Harijans (as Dalits were called then), were burnt
alive on the night of December 25, and that the gruesome incident
followed a clash between two groups of kisans. It said: "Twenty-five
huts in all were burnt to ashes. The victims are said to have taken
refuge in a hut, which was among those destroyed." The report gives
the information that the landowners refused to concede the demand of
"Marxist kisans" that they be paid a harvest wage of six litres of
paddy and went ahead with harvesting that day engaging labour from a
neighbouring village. When these "outside" workers were returning
after work in the evening, the report said, "a group of about 200
persons attacked them, armed with deadly weapons". In the clash that
followed, Pakkirisami Pillai, a farm worker, sustained stab injuries,
which proved fatal. The "outside" workers ran away and the attacking
mob chased them. According to the report, around 10 p.m., another
group of about 200 persons were said to have marched to Keezhavenmani,
where a clash followed. Gunshots were also heard during this clash.
Twenty-five houses were set on fire. The inmates of huts ran out and
were said to have taken refuge in a single hut, which was among those
burnt down, the report said. Nineteen persons injured in both the
clashes were hospitalised. The report said that Gopalakrishna Naidu
was among those taken into custody. The report refers briefly to the
kisan trouble in East Thanjavur district for two months.
Although a police station was within 5 km from the village, the police
came to the spot hours after the incidents. Senior police officials
reportedly came only the next morning. Despite prohibitory orders,
hundreds of people visited the village.
Chief Minister C.N. Annadurai observed: "The incident is so savage and
gruesome that words fail me to express my agony and anguish" and
deputed two Ministers, M. Karunanidhi and S. Madhavan, to visit the
village and report to him. The eighth congress of the CPI(M), then
being held in Kochi, expressed its shock over "the inhuman act of
vandalism of the landlords' goondas" and directed P. Ramamurti, member
of the party's Polit Bureau and Member of Parliament, K.R.
Gnanasambandam, member of the Tamil Nadu Assembly, to rush to the
village. Ramamurti visited the village and later held discussions with
the Chief Minister.
Two days later, Annadurai announced that a one-man commission, headed
by Justice Ganapathia Pillai, would inquire "into the problems of
agricultural labour, the relationship between the labourer and the
landlord, and connected issues in East Thanjavur". Another immediate
action taken by the government was to bifurcate the Thanjavur police
district and appoint Walter Devaram Superintendent of Police for East
Thanjavur with Nagapattinam as headquarters.
Protest meetings and demonstrations by workers of the Left parties
were held all over the State. Leaders condemned the massacre and the
police administration's failure to protect the lives of the poor Dalit
agricultural workers.
B.T. Ranadive, CPI(M) Polit Bureau member, wrote in a long article on
the tragedy in the party's official organ People's Democracy, in its
January 12, 1969 issue: "It must be stated that had the DMK Ministry
been alert, the wage question could have been settled long ago. But
blackmailed by Congress propaganda about the breakdown of law and
order, and pressurised by the landlords within its own party, the
Ministry allowed things to drag on thereby encouraging the latter's
offensive against the workers." He stated that the DMK Ministry could
not escape the guilt of connivance at the growing crimes of the
landlords. "In the last few months at least three murders of leaders
of agricultural workers had taken place and neither the Ministry nor
the local police had taken any action to counter this campaign of
murder and terror and bring the criminals to justice," wrote Ranadive.
The veteran Marxist also gave a graphic account of what he saw at
Keezhavenmani when he visited the village a few days after the
tragedy.
A long article by D. Pandian in the official organ of the Communist
Party of India (CPI) also threw more light on the tragic incident. He
wrote: "The latest mass murder of women and children is the
continuation of this reign of terror of mirasdars [landlords]. All
these murders took place in a taluk where special police reinforcement
is sent to `protect the crops' according to the Ministry. And, yet on
December 25, at about 7 p.m. this savagery was enacted with impunity."
He said that the police went there only around 10 a.m. the next day
only to collect the charred remains of the victims. "The mirasdars set
fire to the hut and butchered the innocent victims; the police
completed the `cremation'," the article said.
"From all evidence," Pandian wrote, "it is clear that it was a pre-
planned, calculated murder." He also faulted the State government for
its "callousness and failure to protect the kisans, poor Harijans,
even after a series of murders in the area."
THE documentary, succeeds to a fairly large extent in revoking the
memories of the mass murder as one of the most heinous crimes against
women and children, by recreating the mood of that fateful night and
restating the tales of woe of those less fortunate and deprived
sections of the people by their survivors and those who stood by them
in those hours of crisis in their own words. It goes further and makes
some bold statements by going deeper into the issues involved.
For instance, it attempts to establish that the massacre of the
innocents was an `avoidable' crime. It adduces evidence to show that
had the government acted on the alerts from the kisan and labour
leaders about the threats from the landlords and their henchmen, the
carnage could have been averted.
A letter to the Chief Secretary from Gnanasambandam, written 15 days
before the incident reportedly reached its destination late - around
January 5,1969. Another appeal to the government from legislators such
as N. Sankariah to convene a meeting of the Assembly to discuss the
worsening situation in respect of relations between agricultural
workers and a section of landlords failed to provoke any response. A
warning from Ramamurti to the State government that if the activities
of the Paddy Producers Association president were not checked by the
police and the administration, the agricultural workers' organisation
also might have to think of an army of volunteers to protect
themselves as had been done by Gopalakrishna Naidu was also of no
avail. In the process of revealing this, the documentary raises
questions about the policy of the then DMK government in using the
police while dealing with issues relating to labour and also about a
possible nexus between the police and the landlords. What results is
an expose of the government's inefficiency in managing crises.
Another aspect that is highlighted by Krishnakumar's short film is the
unbelievable attachment of the people of that little village not only
to their soil but also to the movement that grew with them in that
region. Ignoring threats to their lives and casting aside offers of
allurement, an affected person states in the documentary that they
refused to pull down the flags and switch sides. Nor did they accept
the offer to be resettled in a nearby village. The documentary also
exposes the weakness of the judicial system. One of the accused in the
main mass murder case confesses how he could escape punishment by
claiming alibi with the help of an obliging doctor. (Although 10 of
the accused, all landlords, were convicted and sentenced to 10 years'
imprisonment, the High Court quashed the sentence on appeal and the
Supreme Court confirmed it.)
A striking contribution of the documentary is perhaps that it
highlights the point that the fight for liberation from economic
exploitation and social oppression has necessarily to be an integrated
one and Dalit liberation is inseparably linked to the fight against
exploitation of all sorts, which many of the interviewees vouchsafed
for from their own experience in East Thanjavur.