Mass Terror In Batala

In Punjab the State is guilty not only of committing atrocities against innocent individuals as the case studies in this chapter establish, but also of terrorizing whole villages in the border districts with a predominantly Sikh population known to be strongholds of separatist militancy. Unable to distinguish silent sympathizers from activists, the security forces whilst in fact want to intimidate the villagers to withdraw their sympathy and help the State to nab the activists, thereby only succeed in adding to their alienation from the State. I conclude this chapter with one example of mass terrorization. On 2 February 1989 I, together with Tapan Bose, visited a primary school named Guru Nanak Dev Academy in Batala, a sub divisional town in Gurdaspur district. The school, we had been told, was concerned mainly with the upbringing and education of children whose parents were victims of State atrocities. Fifteen children attending the school had lost their fathers in so-called "encounters".

At this school we learnt about the campaign of terror which Govind Ram, the Senior Superintendent of Police of Batala police district, has been carrying out in the villages within his domain. A teacher at the school whose name I withhold narrated to us an incident which epitomized the police campaign under Govind Ram. In the forenoon of 10 January 1989 contingents of the Punjab Police and the Border Security Force swooped down in hundreds on a village, Sarchur, which has a population of about 4000. The forces were led by Govind Ram. He ordered them to round up the Sikh inhabitants of the village and of a number of surrounding hamlets like Kotli, Parowal, Nasirke, Kalowal, Tripaye and Pangale and to herd them together at the so-called focal point on the outskirts of Sarchur, which in Punjab villages serves as the ground for cattle fairs and village markets.

Mixed batches of the BSF and the Punjab police went around the region, pulled out the men working in their fields, walking in the bazaar and lurking in their houses and shepherded them to the specified location. There, Govind Ram, like a surly master pouting over his slaves, harangued them; accusing them of harbouring terrorists and charging their women of sleeping with them. He then ordered all the young men in the Assembly to fall on their bellies to the ground which they did. The personnel of the Punjab Police and the BSF lashed them with their leather belts, batons and bamboo canes. The public flagellation lasted for more than one hour. Govind Ram then asked the assembly to rant after him the outrageous pronouncements he execrated upon Mrs. Surjit Kaur, an Akali Dal leader from Sarchur, in jail for the last five months, and her young daughters living with their father in the village. At this point a retired army officer, Charan Singh of the small village Parowal, protested. He refused to abuse them. Govind Ram ordered that he be taken into custody. Charan Singh was caught and pushed into a police truck.

Govind Ram then forced the villagers to repeat the abuses and went on to pronounce that if ever Surjit Kaur came out of her present incarceration he would make her and her daughters dance naked before them. Govind Ram went away with his forces at dusk after announcing that the next time it would be the turn of the women to be assembled and treated in a similar way. The narrator of this incident also told us that many women of the village Sarchur had let their homes in panic to live with their relatives elsewhere. He also gave us many specific instances of police atrocities which seemed to surpass what we had so far learnt of the State terror in Punjab. We decided to carry out an investigation by personally going to the villages and speaking to the victims. I came back to Batala after a week together with Ashok Agarwal, an advocate member of our Committee, on the morning of 10 February. We did not intimate anyone there of our arrival in advance. We first went to the Guru Nanak Dev Academy. We learnt there that the police had in the meanwhile forced those children whose fathers had been killed in "encounters" to leave the school.

We asked our teacher informer whether he would accompany us to some of the villages involved in the incident of 10 January. He agreed. We drove to Sarchur, 18 kilometres from Batala. On the way we passed many check posts manned by the BSF. We were stopped at one. The BSF men equipped with metal detectors and their rifles closing on to our faces asked us the usual questions: Where are you coming from; where are you going; what do you have in your luggage etc. We told them. They stood still without flinching their guns and coldly eyed our baggage for nearly one minute. They waved our car to move on. We wondered whether they were also equipped with X-ray vision. Approaching the village Sarchur, we noticed two young men in close- cropped hair and moustache walking down the road. Our companion asked the car to stop and called them out.

Although they seemed to recognize him, who was a well known and respected elder of the village as we found out, they became nervous on seeing us. We requested them to tell us what had happened on 10 January. They remained fidgety and pale in their faces. They would not speak and wanted to go away. We let them go. Then we noticed a middle aged Sikh driving a tractor our way. Our companion waved him to stop and talked with him for five minutes, telling that we had come to investigate the incident of 10 January; that we were not police detectives and that he should tell us what had happened. He began to talk excitedly and incoherently. We asked him for his name. He would not tell. We asked him whether we could tape record the conversation. He said no. When we took out a note book to write, he said don't write. The fear in the village began to confound us.

We tried to explain to him that it was important for us to record the basic facts and that the identity of the persons to whom we speak would not be revealed if they desired to remain anonymous. He looked doubtful and went away with the excuse that he had some work in Batala to attend to.

We drove into the village and stopped near a cluster of houses where some men were moving about, cutting fodder and attending to other chores. Our companion once again talked to them about the purpose of our visit. We assured them at the very outset that their identities would not be revealed, and we did not ask for their names. Soon twenty to twenty five men of the village had gathered around us. They told us about the incident of 10 January in vivid detail, repeating what we had already learnt from our companion. There were some men in the crowd who had been intently following the discussion without so far taking part. When we asked those who spoke to tell us more closely why Govind Ram had specially insulted Jasbir Kaur and her daughters, some of those so far silent interjected: "We are ashamed to talk about this episode. We may be punished if we tell you".

"Why are you so afraid? No one can punish you for talking to us", we tried to calm them.

"You want to know why and who we are afraid of ? Then come with us".

They got into the car and directed us to the small village Nasirke, some kilometers away. We stopped outside the house of one Pal Singh. They went into Pal Singh's house and brought him out. He looked about sixty and had only one arm. We did not know what to ask. The men explained that Pal Singh had just returned from the jail in Batala after committing his three sons to judicial custody.

We asked what wrong his sons had done.

Nothing, Pal Singh said.

Then why did you bring them to jail?

I have sent them to jail so that Govind Ram may not kill them, Pal Singh said.

Why should he kill them?

You see, my sons, Dhanraj Singh, Ranjit Singh and Dilbag Singh, had been implicated in a case of murder sometime in 1986. The case was false and flimsy and my sons got bailed out. Since their release the police has been trying to recruit them as informers. When Govind Ram became the SSP of Batala, harassments against us became suddenly intense and unbearable. The police just comes and picks us up - my sons, myself and even my father, who is ninety. When they came to pick us one day before the big round-up of Sarchur, they beat up my old father with shoes.

Can we see your father?

The father Mota Singh, wobbling on reedy legs and supported by two men, came out. Pal Singh continued to tell his story: Govind Ram told us that he would kill my sons if they refused to join his ranks. We know from experience that his deeds match up to his evil tongue. So I cancelled my sons bail and sent them back to jail. There they are safer.

Who will now look after you and your father?

"Wahe Guru" will.

We went back to Sarchur. Our teacher companion took us to one house. An old man with a silver beard, small bulby eyes and a gloomy frown, his forehead puckered in umpteen furrows, was sitting on a charpoy. He spoke to us in a calm and cohesive manner. We asked him: Why Govind Ram was doing all this? Does he suspect that militants are hiding in here? Does he suspect particular people? What does he want you people to do? The old man explained: There have been many police raids on this village Every house has been searched for weapons and militants on a number of occasions. Never was anything recovered. No militant has been arrested from here. We don't know why he is terrorizing us. But in this village most of us are Amritdharis - baptised Sikhs, initiated to work for the Khalsa, the Sikh community. May be he thinks that we are the enemies. May be he wants us to become the enemies. For how long can young men, with their tradition of valour and honour, suffer these atrocities and indignities? Take the case of the Granthi, Avtar Singh, of our village Gurudwara. You would not perhaps believe if I tell you how the police has tortured his wife and him for no crime of their own. We asked if we could talk to them personally. He sent for a man to accompany us together with our guide to the house of Avtar Singh. After some persuasion, Avtar Singh narrated to us his story: One night in May or June of the last year, some people who were armed came to my house. They wanted to be fed and forced me to go with them to the Gurudwara. I did not know who they were. They were clearly fugitives. In the past also the police and the BSF men had been forcing me to give them food, tea and beds to sleep. One of these men who had eaten at the Gurudwara was later caught. Under interrogation he told the police that he had eaten at the Gurudwara. The police came to arrest me.

When was this?

On 4th or 5th of October 1988. 1 was not at home. I had gone to distribute food to the flood-affected area. When the police came, my wife Amarjit Kaur and my mother Gurmeet Kaur, who is 85, were alone at home. The police ransacked the house. Pulled down two walls in the courtyard. Dug up the hearth. Took away all our belongings including two bicycles. And they took my wife into custody. His wife was sitting next to him. We requested her to tell us herself what happened to her: "Were there lady police at the time of your arrest?" No. They were all men. At the police station I saw Amarjit, my brother who had been picked up from my parental house in Peduwal village near Kalanaur in Gurdaspur district. The police compelled my brother to beat me and ...", she stammered. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. I was tortured terribly for eighteen days. My hands were tied behind my back. A wooden roller was placed on my thighs. Some men stood on it and others rotated it on my legs." Avtar Singh asked me to touch her thighs and through her salwar, the Punjabi trousers, I could feel nodulous rings of ruptured flesh.

Which police station were you in?

"At the Sadar police station in Batala. My husband came there to rescue me. He was taken into custody."

We turned back to Avtar Singh to tell of his own treatment: I was tortured for thirty days. My interrogation used to take place mostly at nights. They used to tie my legs and my hands to the back with an iron rod inserted under the arms which is fastened to rope going through a hook in the ceiling so that by pulling the other end they could lift me up and down. When I was hanging from the ceiling they beat me with sticks from below. I was also given electric shocks with one wire attached to my genitals. A roller was rotated on my legs in the same way as they did to my wife and sometimes my legs were pulled apart farther than is bearable. Do you want to see my injuries?

We asked what the police wanted to know from him.

They asked me about militants : Where I had kept weapons for them etc. Why I did not catch them and bring them to the police. Why I did not put poison in their food.

What did you answer?

I don't know how I could have nabbed them while they were armed to their teeth. I don't know how I could have put poison in their food while they were watching me. I don't keep poison at the Gurudwara to mix in the food we cook at the langar - the Guru's kitchen.

But why did you not inform the police later that the militants had come to eat at the Gurudwara?

I did not, because I know that if the militants came to wipe out my family there would not be any police to stop them. The police will only torture the innocent, not stop the militants. After torturing me for thirty days, they released me because I had done nothing wrong. But they came to arrest me again. They keep coming just to pick me up. Many policemen know me by now. Some of them tell me that they too are helpless. The SSP wants them to keep the lock-ups in the police stations full. He wants to see them full during inspections of the police stations. But it is becoming unbearable for me. On January 9, 1 came back to my village after spending one night in the lock up at Fatehgarh Chudiyan police station. Not even one hour had lapsed when the SP Headquarters, I think his name was Anil Kumar Sharma, turned up with his cops to take me away again. He took me to the BSF interrogation centre at Alliyal, near the canal bridge. I was again tortured. They released me after twelve days. Now I don't sleep at my house. The police came also last night. My mother was at home. They went away after kicking over a bucket of milk. Even in the daytime I leave a boy on the roof to keep watch if they are coming. I cannot bear this any more. I will run away"; Avtar Singh started sobbing. One day when I was in police custody in Batala I saw 8-10 police jeeps arrive. Many officers had come there and they appeared to be making a plan. Soon afterwards two policemen came to our room and asked for Avtar Singh. Me and another person named Avtar Singh Bhulewal got up. They motioned me to go back, but took the other Avtar to a police jeep which already had two other Sikh boys in it. Then I saw them collect some rocket launchers, AK-47s and some stuff used to blow up railroad tracks. These were put in the jeep which then drove off. The next morning some of the policemen told us that there had been a fierce encounter during the night, and that 3 terrorists had been shot dead. After the post-mortems were done on the bodies, the clothing was brought into the compound. I immediately recognised the blue jacket that Avtar Singh Bhulewal had been wearing the day before. Soon I saw the rest of his clothing. Later that day I read in the papers about 3 Sikh RterroristsS being killed while trying to Rblow up the railway trackS. One of them was claimed to be Avtar Singh Bhulewal, an area commander of the KCF.

When did this happen, and where?

The night of 12 January 1989 near a dam next to Choudhriwal in Srihargovind tehsil.

We went back to the house of the old man who had directed us to the Granthi. His grandson who had also been rounded up and beaten at the focal point of Sarchur village on 10 January had brought over to his house a number of young men of the village who had all been subjected to the same treatment. Many of them showed us blue patches on soles and ankles from the beating. While we were talking to these boys in the courtyard of the house, a man in the late forties drove in on a scooter. He is the old man's son. He joined the conversation and said the following : The elders of the village have told the SSP that they are willing to help the government to fight the militants but the police must stop dealing like that with innocent people. We shall cooperate in any manner they want. If the police has evidence that anyone is a militant or keeps illegal weapons, they can take him away. If they want to interrogate someone, they only have to inform the panchayat - the village council of five elders - and we shall bring that person to the police station as they want. I have also told Govind Ram that if he wants we shall send our boys away to relatives outside the State. We would give him the particulars of where they stay and what they do, and he could keep a tab on them. Govind Ram said that won't be necessary. But after I came back to my house, the police was again there to pick up my son. For how long can we tolerate this? No one is spared. To be a Sikh has itself become an offence. Take the case of Nirmal Singh, a soldier in the army. He had come on a short leave to be with his family in the village. On 10 January, Govind Ram had him rounded up and marched to the focal point along with the other men. He showed his identity card. But he was still beaten up like the rest. Do you think this soldier will care to defend a country which treats his own people like slaves? If you don't believe me write to him or his Commanding Officer and find out. Shall I give you his address? I took out my note book and wrote it down: Sep. Nirmal Singh, No. 2479898 HQ COY, PL.MOR., C/O 56 A.P.O. 19 PUNJAB REGIMENT We asked him about Surjit Kaur and her daughters, whom Govind Ram had forced the people to abuse on the occasion of the round up, and her background. He explained: She is an Akali Dal leader of the district level and is languishing in Batala jail for the last five months. Her son, Prabhjot Singh, who lives abroad, came to attend one of his sisters marriage in September 1988. He is now in Sangrur jail, in solitary confinement. Her husband, Surinder Singh, is a farmer who is picked up off and on and tortured without any reason. Their two young daughters, Manjit Kaur, 15, and Rajinder Kaur, 10, have also been picked up and tortured. We went on to their house along with our teacher companion. Surinder Singh was in his fields. We met his daughters. Rajinder Kaur had her hair tied into a bun and wore a black turban, a sign of protest. It was difficult for us to talk to them about their plight, considering their age and their apparent haplessness. They were forthright, though not very well informed. We asked the girl who took care of her and her sister. Our father, she said. He is at the farm. He is very much troubled. The police has taken him away at least ten times so far. The police is also bothering me and my sister very much.

How are they bothering you ?

They take us away to the police station.

When was this? Do you remember the date?

No sir, may be a month ago.

Which police station were you taken to?

To Sadar police station, Batala.

Why did they take you away? Did they explain?

No sir. They just told our father they they were taking away his daughters.

What did they do to you at the police station?

They did very bad things.

Tears rolled through her heavy lashes. To change the topic, we asked:

How is your mother? Have you been to see her at the jail?

No sir. How can we go there alone? Our father has to look after the fields. But we have seen her in the court. She is very ill. The police had beaten her very much.

How do you know?

Our mother told us this in the court.

Have you heard of Govind Ram?

Yes sir. He had forced the people of the village to abuse our mother and us. When the police come to our house, they use the same abuses on us. We are afraid of them. We don't dare to even leave the house, sir. Charan Singh, a retired army officer, who had been taken into custody for objecting to Govind Ram's execrations against Surjit Kaur and her daughters on 10 January lives in Pharowal village, four kilometers from Sarchur. We went to see him.

Why were you taken into custody on 10 January, we asked him.

I could not bear the filthy abuses for Surjit Kaur by Govind Ram and that the villagers had to repeat them. I protested. Govind Ram then proclaimed that I was the Guru of the terrorists. I told him that I was not a Guru of the terrorists but a soldier who had retired after fighting for India in two wars. But he ordered my custody. I was pushed into a police truck and driven away. I was locked up in a cell in Fatehgarh Chudiyan police station. One inspector, Mander Singh, was in-charge. For three days, I remained there without clothes in this winter, without a glass of water and not a morsel of food. I am 62. They knew that I am a retired soldier, not a thief. But I am a Sikh which is perhaps a bigger crime than to be a thief. His speech faltered. He paused for a while and then mentioned about a policeman of his village whom he had saved from being killed by army. We asked him to tell us the details: "After the Operation Blue Star, the army had been combing the villages of Punjab for militants. There was a ban on pillion riding on motorcycles. One day, a Sikh policeman of our village was taking his ailing father on his motorcycle to the hospital. The father was ailing from addiction to opium. At Nasirke, an army patrol stopped him. As he was in plain clothes, he got nervous when stopped and sped past the patrol. He managed to come back to the village and tried to hide. But the army patrol traced him down. They tied him up to a tree and started interrogating him. In panic he lost his speech. When other villagers came to tell me, I quickly went to the spot and saw how a soldier was poking his rifle into his stomach. I reflected for a second weighing my thoughts for and against the reckless courage which would be required to intervene to save this man. I shouted at the soldiers to stop, which distracted them. They turned on me and brought me to their Commandant, whom I could somehow convince that they should let him off. But now when I try to save an honest and religious woman who is already in jail for her courage of conviction, I am labelled to be a Guru of the terrorists, put to jail and starved. A climax to the story came out when we asked him where the policeman was now. He said: "Constable Mohan Singh is now attached to the police station in Batala near the bus stand where Surjit Kaur's daughters have been outraged." (Govind Ram, the villain or the contrapuntal hero of this story, has since been killed by Sikh militants).