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By:

Abhijit Mulye

21 August 2024 at 11:29:11 am

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...

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 (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.

Gods, Crowds and Courts

The Uttar Pradesh government’s takeover of Shri Bankey Bihari Mandir raises the urgent question whether Hindus can manage their temples without the intervention of courts and the state?

Uttar Pradesh
Uttar Pradesh

Last month, the Uttar Pradesh government formally assumed control of Shri Bankey Bihari Mandir through a new ordinance. It was the culmination of a long legal saga and a response to a tragedy.


The Shri Bankey Bihari Ji Mandir Nyas Adhiniyam, 2025, came just ten days after the Supreme Court issued a landmark verdict allowing the state to acquire land for developing the temple’s surroundings but only if the land remained in the name of the temple’s deity, not the government. The ordinance creates a trust board to manage the temple, composed of bureaucrats, scholars and two representatives from the traditional Goswami families who have overseen the temple’s rituals for generations.


The legal and constitutional stakes are significant. Under Articles 25 and 26 of India’s Constitution, religious groups have the right to manage their own affairs. But Article 25(2) allows the state to regulate these rights in the interest of public order, morality or health. That is precisely the clause the Supreme Court invoked when it ruled that the state could step in to fix what had become a dangerously mismanaged religious institution. In this case, the trigger was a deadly stampede in 2022 during Janmashtami celebrations that killed devotees and injured many more. The temple had become an overcrowded hazard with no emergency exits, poor crowd control and inadequate infrastructure to handle the more than 5 lakh pilgrims who descend during festivals.


The tragedy had prompted a Public Interest Litigation in the Allahabad High Court, highlighting the failure of existing management systems and calling for urgent safety measures. The state responded with a plan to acquire 5 acres of land around the temple to develop restrooms, parking lots, security infrastructure and wider access roads to the tune of over Rs. 700 crore. Initially, the government proposed to use Rs. 300 crore from the temple’s own corpus to fund land acquisition, but the High Court refused, wary of inflaming ongoing disputes between the Goswami lineages over control of the temple’s finances. The Supreme Court eventually allowed it, as long as the land remained under the temple’s name.


The Supreme Court’s intervention was shaped not just by the crisis at Bankey Bihari but by a broader malaise of temple mismanagement, notably in the case of Mathura. Nearly 200 temples are currently caught in litigation, many overseen by court-appointed lawyers who have converted spiritual stewardship into permanent sinecures. The SC derided this phenomenon as ‘Receiver Raj’ and demanded an audit of all such arrangements.


Opponents of state intervention argue that the move infringes on Hindu autonomy. But the facts speak for themselves. The temple had been under the control of a Civil Judge since 2016, with little improvement. Rituals remained sacrosanct, but basic safety, sanitation and crowd control were ignored. A spiritual centre attracting lakhs was run like a rural shrine. The Goswamis, hereditary priests entrusted with sacred duties, lacked both the capacity and the infrastructure to manage a modern religious complex. Their spiritual authority did not translate into civic competence.


When temple governance fails to prevent stampedes or provide clean facilities, the state has a constitutional obligation to act. As the SC judgment noted, what applies to stadiums and hospitals must apply to temples too, especially those that serve millions.


The takeover also reframes a larger dilemma as to who should steward dharma in public life? While Hindus argue for the right to manage their temples, that right comes with legal, ethical and spiritual obligations. When those are shirked, the vacuum invites state control.


One possible way forward is to establish an independent Civil Temple Management Board which would be a professional, accountable body distinct from both traditional custodians and the government. Such a model would also reduce the risk of state overreach while ensuring that temples are run with the seriousness and safety expected of any large public institution.


The saga of Shri Bankey Bihari Mandir is about rethinking how India, while respecting faith, must modernise the management of its religious heritage.

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