The Leadership Training Camp for Dalits being organised in Suryapet town (Andhra Pradesh, India) with IHEU's support was going at full speed. Mr. Veeraswami the leader of Spoorthi, the local implementing organisation, and Mr. V.B. Rawat, Director of the Social Development Foundation, the event's sponsor, were participating along with Sujatha, a sociologist and Dalit women's rights campaigner based in Hyderabad. There were a hundred Dalit youths, men and women, many of them eager to learn about modern science, about the situation of Dalits and of women in the country, about superstitions, and about the plight of untouchables worldwide.

New Resolve

By the end of a full day of discussions and lectures when Chandraiah, the miracle-exposure activist concluded his demonstration, many of the Dalit youth, several of them superstitious themselves, had undergone a change of outlook. Some of them declared that they were now inspired to work against superstition in their community, as they understood the tricks being played on them by charlatans, and as they now realised the harm it did to their fellow Dalits. We were told of plans in one village to kill a suspected sorcerer, and that following the day's discussions they were now determined to prevent it by educating the villagers and also informing the local authorities. Veeraswami then told us that the next day's miracle-exposure programme was to be held in Pasunur village in the Tungathurthi region because the Dalits there were traumatised and terrified. For some time there had been talk of human sacrifice.

Killing of witches? Human sacrifice?

As what we heard sank in, I felt disgust and horror. We were just six hours away by car from Hyderabad – one of India's Hi-tech show-piece cities – but time rolls back a thousand years in this short distance.

Because the Gods Want it

We had to intervene urgently. The next morning we set out at early with Veeraswami and other Dalit leaders from the region, along with a reporter from ETV, one of most important TV channels in South India.

Chandraiah told us about his experiences as a child who had grown up in the region:

“In the 60s whenever a rice mill or a new industrial unit was to be inaugurated in the region, one of the workers or a villager would mysteriously die on the factory premises. Everyone remained silent, but all knew that the gods wanted a sacrifice and now that they were satisfied the victim's family would get ten thousand rupees and all was forgotten.”

On the way to the village the situation was explained to us: the Government had constructed an impressive school at a cost of 3.5 million rupees. It was the pride of the region, but no classes were being conducted one month into the new school year because a man in touch with God had declared that the school building demanded aarambhan (human sacrifice) of six children before it could be safely inaugurated..

Pasunur Village Dalit Colony

At the Dalit colony, everyone was summoned for the morning meeting. I asked the village President about this matter of aarambham. He denied it. The other villagers also denied any knowledge of the matter. V.B. Rawat suggested we ask the children why they were not going to school. When the children spoke, and this time to the TV cameras, the adults had no choice but to acknowledge that they were keeping their children at home because of the fear that they might be sacrificed. After all, who had ever heard of upper-caste children being sacrificed? If it were to happen, theirs would be the victims.

The crowd was sceptical. One woman loudly whispered, “Are you going to give us money for coming to this meeting? Because of you our men are not going out today to work.” It was a Sunday, but for the Dalits, every day is a working day. As Charles from the Dalit Social Forum told us : globalisation is of no real use to the common, hungry, downtrodden Indian.

Another woman shouted “You tell us what you know and we will tell you what we know!” She and her fellow villagers knew a lot about ghosts and how they possessed people. They were aware of how spirits could keep a cloth dipped in water from becoming wet – their local godman had already demonstrated these powers. They knew about spontaneous roof fires, and they knew about getting healed through magical incantations.

Chandraiah then proceeded to create fire by pouring water on sand. He cut a lemon which gave blood-red juice. He dipped a piece of cloth in water and it came out dry. He broke a coconut and out came blood-red water. He performed every trick the local charlatans performed, and then explained how the tricks were done. He overturned a glass full of water, but the water did not fall, supported by a paper. Some tried to do it themselves. They soon understood that it was not a spirit that was holding the water up; it was atmospheric pressure. Chandraiah played with a piece of burning camphor and then swallowed it, claiming it was tasty, and the mood relaxed. Then to much excitement he made the children do the same.

It was a quick change of mood for a group of villagers who had until then been terrified that their children might be sacrificed. Soon the children were shouting with Chandraiah, “There are no ghosts! There are no miracles! We are not superstitious!” Sujatha mingled with the children and asked them about their talismans. She explained how hygiene was a better way of preventing diarrhoea. Meanwhile, Chandraiah made an old woman feed milk to a statue of Ganesha, in imitation of a shameful hoax that had fooled India for two whole days a few years ago. .

Soon, when some of the men said they agreed with us,I asked, “How many of you are ready to tackle the rascal who said that new school building asked for human sacrifice and caused you so much of suffering?”

We Will Defend Ourselves

Ten men and several children came forward. Because it was not entirely safe and as we had no security with us, we set out with just a few children and the adults. As we walked through the slush of the recent rains to confront Devudu Chandraiah, the goatherd who claimed to receive divine messages (no relation to our own Chandraiah!) we encountered many who were going to look for him in the temple and seek his blessings to cure their infertility or their sick children. His earnings were estimated to be about Rs 10 000 per week..

But word that we were coming had already reached him and he had disappeared. We had an altercation with his sister at the temple, questioning her about her brother's desire to see human blood. She denied it, but both children and adults who had witnessed his pronouncements said they had heard him say this. There were angry confrontations and we threatened that we would get them all arrested.

This was a good day for the TV reporter who was able to capture it live.

The Defence is Built

We went back to the village, determined to spread the word that a group of Dalits from the village had decided to confront the charlatan (who came from a higher caste) and that he had fled the scene or did not dare to come because of us. We agreed that we would at the appropriate time print posters of the charlatan and display them widely so that his humiliation would be complete and the self-assertion of the Dalits would be announced to the world. Spoorthi also intends to file a police complaint against him for incitement to murder if they hear the mad ravings of this blood-thirsty charlatan again. But it will be some time before he will recover from the disgrace.

Our Relevance

We then moved to the school building itself where the reporter wanted to do a special interview. We met representatives of a well-known foundation organising a training program for literacy trainers. We were invited to join them, and to tell them about our work. But soon we found out that they were using a religious idiom to encourage the people to become literate, and that they were going to organise it in the context of Bonalu, a festival where animal sacrifice is called for, and where people swoon, become “possessed”, and speak on behalf of God. They were of course against superstition and animal sacrifice, but Sujatha found this an inappropriate use of the religious idiom and said so. We had a lively discussion and it seemed to us that our point of view was appreciated. The original demand for human sacrifice had been voiced during a Bonalu-like festival!

We found this one of the most satisfying of our activities in recent times. While the preparation and organisation took a few weeks, the Dalit leaders found what they were looking for: a route out of traditional religious thinking and a forum where they could discuss these ideas. And in one single magical morning from amongst a group of cowering, frightened and terrorised villagers we found several willing to challenge superstition and confront the source of their terror. They do not need outsiders to defend them any more. They have found the resources and the strength to help themselves. We now have to nurture that new desire and ability to think for themselves and to defend their rights.

Babu Gogenini is IHEU International Director