When the bulldozer won hearts

The Government of India signed a ceasefire agreement with the Naga rebel leadership in 1997. A couple of years later, my battalion was moved to southern Nagaland which had been the cradle of insurgency for more than four decades. As per the ceasefire ground rules, active operations against insurgent groups were to be avoided, not an easy task for the soldiers trained to fight. We somehow managed to keep the insurgents at bay.

For the local population, caught in the anti-insurgency operations for decades, it was a much-needed respite. Soon, the focus shifted to military-civic actions to win hearts and minds of Naga society in the villages. The roads and tracks, especially those leading to remote villages, were in a poor condition. After considerable deliberations, the higher military authorities agreed to provide ‘engineer support’ (a dozer with two drivers) to deserving villages for essential civil works. Initially, the safety of the monster and its crew gave us nightmares. As such, we deployed eight to 10 persons for the safety of the men and the machine.

Such was the popularity of this initiative that the locals not only guaranteed the safety of the drivers and the dozer, but also provisioned the board and lodging of the men. Slowly, our local military hierarchy accepted their assurance and dozer operators were happy to enjoy Naga hospitality for days and weeks.

Our fauji drivers loved their newly acquired VIP status. The dozer was nicknamed Apu, perhaps by a South Indian operator, while the locals were happy to call it Appo (‘father’ in tribal language).

There were more demands from villages for the construction and repair of tracks, volleyball courts and football fields. Several villages benefited from this novel collaboration.

Completion of road or construction of playground was always a grand affair; prayers, friendly matches, and feasts for Army officials, and the dozer crew, who by then enjoyed the status of village elders. But the real hero was ‘Appo’, silently standing in a corner, marvelling at its own creation. And then, it was given an affectionate send off, as if it was a living being. More often than not, a reception party from the next village took their Appo with equal fanfare.

The walls of mistrust were dozed away to give way to a new-found bonhomie between the security forces and the local population. Violence declined and peace continued to hold, barring a few aberrations. Such was the impact of the dozers that our General Officer Commanding remarked, ‘If I can get a few more dozers from somewhere, we can do wonders.’

But (bull)dozers and excavators have acquired a different status now. A symbol of extrajudicial executive power, these beasts are now being used to ‘teach them a lesson’. Instead of creating a level playing field for all, these wonderful machines have become tools of spreading fear among the weaker sections of society.