"Baahar Jao": How a Mob and Police Crushed a Tribal Uplift Initiative in Madhya Pradesh

Dewas - July 22 marked the start of a climactic crisis in the forest village of Shukrawasa, in the Dewas district of Madhya Pradesh. The members of HOWL–a self-funded regional collective focused on the welfare of the local Adivasi community–were involved in shooting a documentary on their unit campus. Yuvraj Singh Chouhan, a 24-year-old film-maker and photographer, was keen on making a film about an age-old Banyan tree, once spread over 12 bighas, but which has since shrunk down to only 3 bighas, a local site of cultural memory.

His peers, Tashiv Patel and Brijendra Singh Rathore, both 21; and Niladri Mukhopadhyay, 62, a filmmaker and academic scholar from Kolkata, had joined in to witness the documentary-making. Another member, Pranay Tripathi, a 28-year-old journalist and film-maker, was busy distributing newspapers around the village, as is a HOWL tradition. The group had a busy week ahead of them, with plans to organise a rally too, scheduled for the 9th of August, widely observed as Adivasi Day.

However, all of their plans came to a standstill when suddenly the group was met with an unexpected arrival, cops from the nearby Barotha Police Station had assembled to carry out an unannounced inspection. The grounds on which the inspection was being carried out stayed unclear. Laptops and phones belonging to the members were instantly seized by the police. It did not take long for the encounter to take a violent turn. The members of the group were subjected to incessant physical and verbal abuse and were prohibited from documenting the incident. Soon, they were forcibly dragged into a police van and taken to the Barotha Police Station for further interrogation.

HOWL, which stands for How Ought We Live, was started by Sourav Banerjee, a journalist and linguist, and his peers, as a way to uplift the Adivasi residents of Shukrawasa. It consists of independent writers, artists, and student-youth, including Chouhan, Patel, Rathore, Tripathi, as well as Shweta Raghuvanshi, Nishita Gour, and Harsh Salecha. Operating chiefly from Indore and Dewas, with its campus located in Shukrawasa, the group describes itself as an “organisation of labour,” and is involved in education and health awareness drives among marginalised communities of the region.

The group has enabled the tribal residents of the village to start the Parvatpura Panchayat Development Committee (PPDC), colloquially referred to as the “Samiti.” “What we did with HOWL is an experiment of a self-reliant and self-governed society,” Tripathi explains. “We are working amidst the tribals, Dalits, and backward classes. The goal of the Samiti is to make them shikshit-saksham-sashakt (educated-capable-empowered).”

“For the last five years, we have been working in our tiny tribal hamlet,” he adds. “We saw the state of affairs, the condition there. It included malnourishment, pathetic roads, [lack of] electricity, water supply… People were not getting the benefit of [government] schemes. The status of education was terrible, and there was not a single clinic within 15 kilometers. No government hospitals within a radius of 35–40 kilometres. The main population consists of tribals and people coming from Scheduled Tribe and Scheduled Caste communities. They started sharing their stories with us—how they could not go to school, how they could not pursue their education… It was through these conversations, slowly, that we decided to take up work related to education and health in the region.”

Their efforts visibly translated into progress. Kamla Bai, a resident of Shukrawasa, elaborates on HOWL’s work and how it has benefited the marginalised communities of the region. “They educated us, made us aware. They made medical arrangements for us. Brought prominent doctors to our village,” she affirms. “It’s been nearly five years. They have taught the kids here; fed and supplied basic necessities like clothes to the needy.”

The Samiti has also actively combatted casteism and religious fundamentalism. It has also gone on to advocate for the rights of farmers, labourers, and their families, by making them aware of their fundamental human rights, Constitutional duties, law, and such. “People from dominant castes and communities felt threatened by our impact, which is why they started spreading rumours about us carrying out religious conversions among the residents,” says Tripathi. “It started in 2022, but it was all oral. But in 2023, Sourav [Banerjee], our founder, was physically attacked. There were more than 8 attempts to take his life.”

Things have been unstable in the region ever since. While the group isn’t alien to such attacks, the motive behind the recent incident still remains unclear. “People [of Shukrawasa] were present when the police arrived, but they were fearmongered, threatened, and forced to leave,” recalls Chouhan. He narrates how the police inspection took up the entire day, and they were eventually let go at around 11:30 pm. “The cops started checking everyone without a warrant in an unprofessional manner. They forcefully started checking our bags, beating us up, physically and verbally abusing us. They even took the documentary that we were working on. They asked us our religion and caste, our name, whether it is our legal government name or not, and if it was our real Aadhaar card that was used as proof. Eventually, they took our written evidence and let us go.” Tripathi, who was busy distributing newspapers among the people of Shukrawasa at the time, rushed to the campus when he learned that the police officials had arrived. This included a team of more than 25 officials, led by DSP Dewas police and the Tehsildaar of Barotha.

This was just the beginning of a bigger storm. The next day, July 23, hyperlocal print and broadcast media of Indore and Dewas had started covering the incident; their reports were rife with misinformation. This coverage–primarily in the regional language Hindi–was heavily biased against the group, carrying baseless allegations of religious conversion. The Bhopal edition of Dainik Bhaskar particularly released a rather scathing report against HOWL. “Reporters from Indore and Dewas started questioning us. The news was broadcast on Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh news channels. Moreover, some reporters represented multiple news outlets,” Chouhan continues. “We decided to gather physical as well as digital evidence–parchas [pamphlets], newspapers, documents, films–to defend ourselves, along with the residents of Shukrawasa, by organising a Press Conference in the Press Club of Indore the next day.”

However, the members revealed that the Press Conference failed to go as expected. On July 24, HOWL members were met with a flurry of unidentified saffron-clad assaulters, who were threatening them to leave. “They started shouting “Baahar Jao” (Get out). They had shown up uninvited. It was later found out that the people were members of the Bajrang Dal [a prominent right-wing Hindutva group]. The Press Conference, which was organised to defend HOWL’s side, was completely sabotaged by them,” Chouhan recounts.

Tripathi mentions how Banerjee and the others were attacked outside the Press Club, moments after the Press Conference was disrupted. Eventually, the chaos attracted media presence at the Press Club of Indore, the first of its kind. Banerjee especially was questioned by the reporters and was also slapped by one of the assaulters mid-interview. Ultimately, HOWL was disallowed from conducting their Press Conference by the Press Club of Indore, owing to the disarray.

Residents of Shukrawasa were also threatened by the mob into complacency. HOWL members left the venue immediately and decided to seek refuge in the office of Indore Samachaar, a regional publication. “Indore Samachaar was a safe space for everyone. 4–5 members–excluding Sourav–decided to leave to file an FIR concerning the assaults at the Press Club. We were also going to get our wounds treated and get medical proof of the assault,” Chouhan goes on. However, the cops once again caught hold of the crew. “Our vehicle was overtaken by them. Our location was tracked and we were stopped and asked to come to the SP office Dewas,” Tripathi clarifies.

Shishir Agrawal, an environmental journalist who witnessed the Indore Samachaar occurrence, agreed to share his insights. “Sourav had called me up one day prior to the incident. He informed me about the Press Conference that was to be held in solidarity with HOWL. I was already familiar with Pranay, so I decided to go meet him there. I was not aware that the members had been physically assaulted before the incident. When I reached the Indore Samachaar office, I noticed the cops talking to Sourav, and they mentioned that “Yahaan pe mamla bighad sakta hai” (The circumstances could escalate here). Suddenly, a mob broke in and started attacking Sourav and other HOWL members. I sensed that the situation could worsen, which is why I left. I saw a large crowd outside the office that was attempting to enter. They were everywhere on the road.”

The mayhem unsurprisingly led to catastrophic consequences. “It was in this commotion that Niladri Da went missing. Some days later we found out that he was with the police. He was assaulted by an unknown person on the way to Shukrawasa, unbeknownst of the situation there. Someone recognised him and took him to the police. He had fainted. Niladri Da, 62, is a diabetic patient,” Chouhan states.

Later, the group discovered that Mukhopadhyay was sent back to Kolkata for unknown reasons. It is reported that he was heavily threatened as well as discouraged from returning to Shukrawasa. The other members had been illegally detained and disallowed from entering the village. Tripathi reports that the HOWL campus was also demolished and left in a bad state. “Not a single notice for the demolition was served to any member. It happened within a few days.” Chouhan points out how the group was also prohibited from getting legal help. “We were not even allowed to contact a lawyer to fight our case. We were taken away before we could even get access to a lawyer.”

Banerjee was further booked under Section 299 (outraging religious sentiments) of the Bharatiya Nyay Sanhita, 2023. He has been arrested and kept in judicial custody on unspecified grounds since the second of August of this year.

Presently, Shukrawasa lives in a state of fear. The residents find it difficult to resist, with their only crutch to lean on snatched away from them. “We are poor people; we have neither sufficient land nor sufficient money. Nobody listens to us,” Kamla Bai laments. “The police do not let us visit the campus and have kept the village Chowkidaar to keep an eye there. They [HOWL members] were like family to us. Now who will listen to us? We have no money; how do we even go to Barotha to work?” she concludes mournfully.

Soniya Pondcar is an independent journalist based in Mumbai, with a focus on socio-political issues and human interest stories from India's margins. Her work centers on amplifying the voices of Adivasi, Dalit, and other oppressed communities, documenting their struggles for rights, dignity, and self-determination. She reports on the intersection of state power, social justice, and grassroots resistance.

Disclaimer: This report is based on firsthand interviews conducted by the author. The Mooknayak does not testify to the veracity of the allegations concerning the incident.