Red flag to green steel

Ex-Maoists forge new destiny in Gadchiroli Gadchiroli: The rugged, forested terrain of Gadchiroli district, long synonymous with the violence and deep-rooted anti-establishment tenets of the ‘Red Ideology’, is now witnessing a remarkable social and industrial transformation. At the Lloyds Metals and Energy Ltd. (LMEL) plant in Konsari, once-feared Maoist operatives are shedding their past lives and embracing a new, respectable existence as skilled workers in a cutting-edge Direct Reduced Iron...

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Ex-Maoists forge new destiny in Gadchiroli Gadchiroli: The rugged, forested terrain of Gadchiroli district, long synonymous with the violence and deep-rooted anti-establishment tenets of the ‘Red Ideology’, is now witnessing a remarkable social and industrial transformation. At the Lloyds Metals and Energy Ltd. (LMEL) plant in Konsari, once-feared Maoist operatives are shedding their past lives and embracing a new, respectable existence as skilled workers in a cutting-edge Direct Reduced Iron (DRI) and pellet plant. This ‘green steel’ project, part of LMEL’s push for an integrated steel complex in the region, is functioning not just as an industrial unit but as a crucial pillar in the Maharashtra government’s surrender-cum-rehabilitation policy. So far, LMEL, in coordination with the state government and the Gadchiroli Police, has provided employment and training to 68 surrendered Maoists and 14 members of families affected by Naxal violence, a total of 82 individuals, offering them a definitive pathway back to the mainstream. The Shift The transformation begins at the company’s dedicated Lloyds Skill Development and Training Centre at Konsari. Recognizing that many former cadres had limited formal education, the company implements a structured, skill-based rehabilitation model. They are trained in essential technical and operational skills required for plant administration, civil construction, and mechanical operations. For individuals like Govinda Atala, a former deputy commander, the change is palpable. “After surrendering, I got the right to live a new life,” Atala said. “I am very happy to get this job. I am now living my life on my own; there is no pressure on me now.” Suresh Hichame, who spent over a decade in the movement before surrendering in 2009 too echoed the sentiments. He realized the path of violence offered neither him nor his family any benefit. Moreover, his self-respecct was hurt. He knew several languages and carried out several crucial tasks for the banned organization remaining constantly under the shadow of death. Today, he works in the plant, receiving a steady monthly salary that enables him to care for his family—a basic dignity the ‘Red Ideology’ could never provide. The monthly salaries of the rehabilitated workers, typically ranging from Rs 13,000 to Rs 20,000, are revolutionary in a region long characterized by poverty and lack of opportunities. Trust, Stability The employment of former Maoists is a brave and calculated risk for LMEL, an industry that historically faced stiff opposition and even violence from the left wing extremist groups. LMEL’s management, however, sees it as an investment in inclusive growth and long-term stability for the district. The LMEL has emphasized the company’s commitment to training and facilitating career growth for the local populace, including the surrendered cadres. This commitment to local workforce upskilling is proving to be a highly effective counter-insurgency strategy, chipping away at the foundation of the Maoist movement: the exploitation of local grievances and lack of economic options. The reintegration effort extends beyond the factory floor. By providing stable incomes and a sense of purpose, LMEL helps the former rebels navigate the social transition. They are now homeowners, taxpayers, and active members of the community, replacing the identity of an outlaw with that of a respected employee. This social acceptance, coupled with economic independence, is the true measure of rehabilitation. The successful employment of cadres, some of whom were once high-ranking commanders, also sends a powerful message to those still active in the jungle: the path to a peaceful and prosperous life is open and tangible. It transforms the promise of government rehabilitation into a concrete reality. The plant, with its production of iron ore and steel, is physically transforming the region into an emerging industrial hub, and in doing so, it is symbolically forging the nation’s progress out of the ashes of extremism. The coordinated effort between private industry, the state government, and the Gadchiroli police is establishing a new environment of trust, stability, and economic progress, marking Gadchiroli’s transition from a Maoist hotbed to a model of inclusive and sustainable development.

Enemies No More?

Correspondent
Jun 12
3 min read

Ashok Gehlot and Sachin Pilot strike a rare chord of unity in a bid to salvage the Congress in Rajasthan.

For a party that wears its internecine feuds as badges of honour, the Congress seems to have discovered something rarer than electoral victory in Rajasthan: détente. Earlier this week, at a prayer meeting in Dausa marking the 25th death anniversary of stalwart Congressman Rajesh Pilot, Ashok Gehlot and Sachin Pilot, long locked in political warfare, offered what looked like an olive branch to each other.

Gehlot, the party’s ageing warhorse and Rajasthan’s former three-time chief minister, leaned into a microphone and remarked “When were we ever far apart?”

He was referring, of course, to Sachin Pilot, Rajesh’s son and his own estranged protégé-turned-adversary. Just days earlier, Pilot had personally invited Gehlot to the ceremony - an invitation that Gehlot, perhaps unexpectedly, accepted.

The rivalry between Gehlot and Pilot has been emblematic of the generational, ideological and temperamental rifts that have come to define – and undermine - the Congress party. It began in earnest in December 2018, when the party clawed back power from the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) in Rajasthan. Pilot, then the state Congress chief, had led the campaign from the front, rebuilding the party’s ground game and expanding its appeal among youth and Gujjar voters. Yet when the spoils were divided, the high command anointed the more experienced Gehlot as chief minister. A miffed Pilot was placated with the post of deputy CM and retained the PCC presidency, a power-sharing arrangement that soon proved unworkable.

Tensions festered and finally erupted in July 2020, when Pilot, along with 18 loyalist MLAs, staged a mutiny from a Gurgaon resort. The plan, allegedly abetted by the BJP, failed partly because Gehlot outmanoeuvred his rival with ruthless precision, and partly because the Congress central leadership refused to blink. Pilot was sacked as deputy chief minister and as state party chief. Gehlot emerged stronger, but not unscathed. The bitterness was palpable. Gehlot publicly labelled Pilot as “useless” and “ineffective” while privately accusing him of conspiring with Union Home Minister Amit Shah to topple the government.

The feud split the party down the middle and contributed, in no small part, to its eventual defeat. In the 2023 assembly elections, the BJP staged a resounding comeback, aided by the Congress’s inability to present a united front or articulate a coherent governance record. Pilot had agitated for a leadership change, while Gehlot had tried to cling to power through loyalists and last-minute populist sops. Their mutual sabotage became the party’s funeral procession.

Now, in the aftermath of defeat, both leaders have begun sounding uncharacteristically magnanimous. Gehlot’s appearance in Dausa and his statement about enduring “love and affection” with Pilot may be part of a larger recalibration.

Still, few in Jaipur believe the Gehlot-Pilot truce is anything more than cosmetic. The ideological divide remains as Gehlot represents the Congress’s old guard which is statist, loyal to the Gandhi family. Pilot, in contrast, is modern, media-savvy, and seen as a symbol of aspirational politics among Rajasthan’s youth. Their respective camps, too, remain entrenched.

The question is what this truce, if it is one, actually achieves. With the BJP firmly in control of the state and having made deep inroads into rural and urban voter bases alike, the Congress’s path back to relevance in Rajasthan is steep. A united front could revive morale, but only if accompanied by fresh ideas and grassroots mobilisation. Merely swapping warm words at a memorial will not be enough.

Still, political history is not without precedent for turnarounds born in funeral courtyards. Rajesh Pilot himself was a tough, unifying figure, respected across the aisle. If his legacy can momentarily bridge a chasm between two Congressmen who helped tear the party apart, it may offer the faintest of hopes that the Grand Old Party still has a few embers of renewal left.

Red flag to green steel

Enemies No More?

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