The Price Of Blood Is Relative

But the fight of the relatives is not over yet. Their belligerence and seething anger against the weak-kneed response of the state government is barely concealed. They would rather that the prisoners in Mysore and Chennai not be allowed to roam free in exchange for Kannada star Rajkumar’s liberation.

They don’t dispute the eminence of the thespian and his well-being. But they are not prepared to see this achieved in a way that undermines the valiant sacrifices of their own. Such is the resolve that one of them, 76-year-old Abdul Karim, a retired deputy superintendent of police, is raising personal loans to sustain the legal battle and take it to its logical end. He doesn’t even consider the idea of giving up without a tough fight. Allowing the governments to get away with their complete capitulation is absent from his scheme of things. The question that’s foremost in Karim’s mind, as also that of others like him, is: how could the chief ministers of Karnataka and Tamil Nadu agree to set free criminals accused of murder? And in certain extreme instances, it has also led to demands for the dismissal of the two governments, and the arrest of M. Karunanidhi (see interview).

Karim’s son, Shakeel Ahmed, a sub-inspector who had established an intelligence network in Veerappan’s area of operation, was ambushed and killed on the eve of the Independence Day in 1992. And Karim is not alone when he spews vitriol on the two governments, there are several other families as well. For instance, the illiterate couple, Nanjanayaka (80) and Muthamma (70), parents of constable Rachappa, wonder why a criminal, instead of being gunned down, is being pampered by the two state governments who agreed to his demands of releasing his men without any resistance and have thus provided him with more room to make trouble? The couple say: "He must be shot because he has killed our child and his death has since split our family. We’d be happy the day the government punishes this rogue and his gang. How can it talk of freedom for these criminals? We’re illiterates, but find this odd."

Rachappa was shot dead along with four other constables while on night duty at Ramapura police station in Karnataka on May 20, 1992. Veerappan, who led the siege, slipped away with arms and ammunition from the police station.

As for Preetha Harikrishna, wife of superintendent of police Harikrishna, such a frightened government response is tantamount to neutralising the efforts of police officers and men who meticulously tracked down those who are now cooling their heels in prison. Says she: "The way the governments are giving in sends a wrong signal to everyone and sets a not exactly exemplary precedent. This ought not to happen. The governments seem to be looking for a short-term solution rather than try and negotiate with tact. The latter method would not only buy freedom for Rajkumar but also ensure that the two governments don’t look like fools who have been dancing to the bandit’s tune." Her husband fell to Veerappan’s bullets along with Ahmed when the duo and a few others, posing as ivory dealers, went to meet the bandit in his lair and catch him.

These sentiments are shared by friends of Veerappan’s other victims. P. Srinivas, a deputy conservator of forests, was one of them. He was beheaded in the most gruesome manner by the sandalwood hustler and poacher in 1991. Srinivas had employed a rather novel and ingenious approach to reform the inhabitants of Veerappan’s native village-without the use of arms. This was also meant to send a message to the poacher that he’d be rehabilitated. Veerappan, however, proved smarter and made a brilliantly evil counter-move, luring the officer by promising to surrender. Once in his grip, Veerappan promptly shot and beheaded Srinivas. Says Raman Sukumar, director of the Asian Elephant Research and Conservation Centre, Bangalore: "I first met Srinivas when he came as the assistant conservator, forests, Chamarajanagar, which was also his first posting. I found in him an idealistic officer, but one who was a bit naive. In 1991, he became a victim because he was a part of the government. Veerappan was against administrative authority, not any individual, and so anybody serving the government was seen as a villain by the bandit. But it wasn't merely that. Srinivas was also the victim of errors made by the previous governments in dealing with the bloodthirsty criminals."

It is perhaps because of such a stubborn stance struck by the victims’ kin that has prompted a similar reaction from Tamil Nadu. What’s surprising in this case though is that it’s the father of one of the five detainees who’d rather see his son in police custody than be set ‘free’ before Veerappan. Annamalai, father of a prisoner in Chennai (a tnla extremist), has moved the high court against handing over his son Manikandan to Veerappan’s "illegal custody". Manikandan has declined to move the court for bail and his father is intrigued as to why the poacher is seeking his release. Says he: "If Dr Rajkumar’s life is precious for his fans, my son’s life is equally precious for me."

Such a stand by some people on the one hand, and signals of weak governance on the other, has set off a debate on the legal aspects of the dreaded forest brigand’s outrageous demands and the two state governments agreeing to meet them. Says Bangalore’s leading criminal lawyer C.V. Nagesh: "The governments’ decision sets an unhealthy precedent although it is well within their powers to withdraw or drop any case under criminal jurisprudence. As an individual, I feel no civilised government should have negotiated with a brigand."

While the two chief ministers had remained stoic in the face of pleas that "these criminals" not be set free, pressure had been mounting from the Kannada film industry on Karim to withdraw his petition against the government from the apex court. A few leading names like Ambaresh, Vishnuvardhan and Sa Ra Govindu-heading the association of Rajkumar’s fans-had sent a message to the retired police officer, pleading that he withdraw his petition. They had even offered to ensure a job for his unemployed son, Farooz Ahmed.

But Karim’s eldest son, Jameel Ahmed, 46, a lecturer in political science at Mysore University, feels it would not assuage his father’s feelings. "I fully agree with my father. Anybody can whisk away Dilip Kumar, Amitabh Bachchan or Manisha Koirala, and ask for the release of another set of murderers. This will become the paradigm of Indian polity. There are too many intrigues in this case, what with our chief minister being dictated by his counterpart in Tamil Nadu. Now, where does a rotten bandit like Veerappan get to know about Che Guevera (Latin American revolutionary leader), or the International Court of Justice? We respect Rajkumar, but our target is Veerappan. The government must carry on with the negotiations, but must not withdraw the cases," he said.

A former director general of police feels though the government ought to try and convince Veerappan about its inability to fulfil all his demands, it would be "risky" to try a rescue operation. Says he: "The choice is very limited because they cannot afford to cause any problem for a person like Dr Rajkumar."

The administration, therefore, is on the horns of a dilemma. And it has to find an amicable solution soon for, otherwise its indifferent stoicism will only serve to complicate the affair.