Singur and Nandigram are not just names of places. Nandigram and Singur, they are code for change. It has been 20 years since Singur. And 19 since Nandigram. In this period, a whole generation has come of age. They recognise the words, what they connote, even if they do not know the what and the why.
Once the Assembly election clock started to tick, even before the dates were announced, we thought of reporting Nandigram. Not so much to capture any political trend, but to visit a touchstone of a place. And then someone said — what about Singur?
Singur and Nandigram, irrevocably joined at utterance.
Prasun Chaudhuri reported from Singur in Hooghly district in 2008. The Tata Motors factory was still under construction. Says Chaudhuri, “Not every farmer was unwilling to part with their land when the state said it would buy 997 acres.” In truth, they had little choice. The announcement to set up a factory had come close on the heels of the Assembly election win of 2006. The slogan raised by the ruling Left was “Krishi amader bhitti, shilpo amader bhobishyot... agriculture is our foundation, industry our future.”
Two years later, the farmers were unhappy with the compensation received for their multi-crop land, but most said they had not been unwelcoming of the idea of a factory.
Chaudhuri says, “The older farmers told me their children and grandchildren were literate, and wanted a better life than could be achieved just by tilling land.” He continues, “I interviewed workers of the Nano plant and the ancillary units. They told me they were unhappy with the agitation. One man said his father owned a two-bigha plot, which would have to be split between four brothers. He had thought about the future, calculated his share and thereafter convinced his parents to sell the land. He had said, ‘Of course, I don’t support the protestors’.” One bigha equals 0.33 acres.
In Calcutta, most applauded the government decision. The Opposition, which had criticised the move from the start, protested and kept protesting till the Tatas announced they would relocate.
Singur first and then came Nandigram, in 2007. This time the state government wanted land across a clutch of villages in East Midnapore to create a Special Economic Zone or SEZ. The villagers had not agreed to the land acquisition. When the people erupted in protest, the police opened fire on them.
Some days ago, when The Telegraph visited Nandigram, those few who agreed to reminisce about that year recalled three dates — January 7, March 14, November 10. “One after another, all together, like the stutter of guns,” says Moumita Chaudhuri. But back then in the Big City, most knew only of March 14. News of 14 dead in police firing — the actual number is 40 plus and many remain missing — had shaken up the people of West Bengal. What began with Singur, came undone with Nandigram. The people delivered their verdict in the 2008 panchayat polls.
In this issue of Graphic, we bring you ground reports from Nandigram and Singur. Stories of the people too with all their scars and hidden parables. Singur and Nandigram. Nandigram and Singur. Beyond doubt more than just names of two places going to polls.