Swami Agnivesh (1939-2020):  The misunderstood maverick

Swami Agnivesh (81), who passed away in Delhi on Friday evening, was one of the many remarkable men and women of our times who never quite got their due. His contribution was acknowledged but his battles remained his own. As the unusual ‘Swami’, he stood out for his steadfast commitment to equality and freedom, for the dignity of individuals and for his opposition to injustice and communalism.

But he was put in jail by several governments and assaulted, arrested and publicly humiliated by the police and mobs alike. He was 79 years old when he was assaulted at Pakur (Jharkhand) two years ago by a group of people associated with BJP, RSS and Bharatiya Janata Yuva morcha. The then BJP government in the state ordered an inquiry but did little to book the people named for the assault. Swami Agnivesh never quite recovered from the injuries he suffered on his ribs and purportedly liver.

The assault was pre-planned and the accused told the media that Swami Agnivesh had invited the assault by speaking sypmpathetically about Naxalites and the Pathalgarhi movement by the tribals.

I had met Swami Agnivesh for the first time in undivided Bihar soon after he formed the Bandhua Mukti Morcha (Bonded Labour Liberation Front) in 1981. He along with a host of luminaries, who included writer and activist Mahasveta Devi, film director Tapan Bose and actor Suhasini Mulay, had descended in Palamu or Palamau, now in Jharkhand, to campaign against bonded labour or slavery.

Thousands of people in Palamu lived as slaves to the better-off upper caste men in villages. They or their parents had taken loans at compound rates of interest, which went up to 48% per annum or higher, and unable to repay, agreed to live in bondage for the rest of their lives. It was a feudal district where guns did the talking and though the Government had abolished bonded labour in 1976 during the Emergency, the practice continued.

The two-day conclave was covered by a galaxy of journalists who had accompanied Swami Agnivesh. He was already a rock star. Born in Andhra Pradesh, he had studied and taught Law and Management in Calcutta before getting elected to the Haryana Assembly in 1977 and inducted as the Education Minister in the non-Congress Janata Party government. He lasted barely five months, resigning to protest a police firing in Faridabad. His ochre robe, aura of a Sanyasi and his fiery oratory drew people in droves to the conclave. I too travelled 175 kilomteres from Ranchi to listen to him.

The highlight of the conclave, however, were a dozen odd minor boys in their early teens—aged between 12 and 15—who Swami Agnivesh had rescued from Mirzapur in adjacent Uttar Pradesh. The boys were working as slaves and in violation of the Child Labour Abolition Act. The children and their re-united families were presented to the gathering, the district administration provided them with rations and some cash with promise of more to come.

Some of us were left feeling underwhelmed. Surely even Delhi had child labour? Why travel to Mirzapur or Palamu to find them?

Two months after the conclave, I therefore went back to Palamu to find out how the boys were faring and what further help they had received. To my shock, I discovered that they had gone back to the carpet factories in Mirzapur. “There at least the boys get something to eat. Here we can barely feed ourselves,” was the disarming explanation of the parents. There was little interest among people about the plight of the children. People and the media had moved on.

Sceptical, I followed the Bandhua Mukti Morcha’s battles from afar. When I next met him years later in 2012, I reminded him of Palamu and what I had found. He had no qualms accepting that millions of bonded labourers and child labourers still existed in the country. The number, he said, had actually grown despite legislation, court rulings, trade union movements and popular protests. It was an ongoing struggle against injustice, he quietly added.

He of course had raised his voice against injustice of all kinds. Workers in brick kilns, stone quarries, construction sites, young widows being burnt alive, child marriage, against poverty and hunger, Swami Agnivesh was at the forefront, fighting court battles, lobbying, leading marches, giving interviews. While his actions gave the impression of a restless, angry man, he never looked rushed. He spoke in a measured voice and there was an inner calm that he exuded, perplexed those of us who did not know him well. I did not know him at all.

I had gone back to speak to him in 2012, soon after I landed in Delhi after resisting a posting in the national capital for the better part of my life, because he had returned recently after successfully negotiating the release of the then District Magistrate of Sukma in Chhattisgarh, Paul Alex Menon, who had been abducted by Maoists. But he was more keen to talk about the thousands of people arrested for allegedly being Maoists.

Yes, he was sympathetic to Maoists, who, he believed, were forced by gross injustice of the system to take up arms and go underground. Having covered and travelled in Naxalite dominated areas, I tended to agree with him. I also told him that I suspected a section of the security establishment keeping the Naxalite ‘problem’ alive so that they could benefit from the uncertainty, reluctance of people to visit these areas, the willingness of the Government to allow emergency purchase of arms, vehicles, weapons and unaccounted cash. The smile on his face indicated that he knew a lot more about the subject.

His decision to participate in the reality show ‘Big Boss’ and to host a show on TV invited ridicule. It was almost certainly prompted by his desperation to bring in some sanity to TV. His consistent stand against communalism alienated him from Hindu zealots but did not get him the support from left, liberal circles either. He was not trusted enough by either side.

One hopes his mission will find torch bearers. One also hopes someone who has known him more closely would write about the man who remained on the fringe and was not taken as seriously as he deserved. One of the possible reasons could be his inability to say ‘no’ to any group or cause seeking his help. He was forever on the move, from Assam to Tamil Nadu, from Jharkhand to Maharashtra.

Those who came in touch with him even fleetingly will undoubtedly miss him.