Anish Khan | The death of a Bengal student activist and its political ripples

Thirteen hours before he died, Anish Khan put out a post on Facebook. It was a photograph of two women on a scooter — the driver wearing a headscarf and the pillion rider holding a small idol of Ganesha. “This is what keeps India together, Please do not kill it for a few votes,” he wrote.

In the early hours of February 19, Anish, a slim 28-year-old MBA graduate from Aliah University in Kolkata, who had recently enrolled for a journalism course at Kalyani University, allegedly fell to his death. From the accounts of his friends and neighbours, and his social media posts, Anish was politically active, a champion of justice, and always brimming with hope. He was popular among the Left students’ unions in Kolkata. He was associated with the Students’ Federation of India in the past, and often led rallies on various issues including the Citizenship (Amendment) Act (CAA). In his village Dakhinkhanpara, in Howrah district, Anish was sought after at every social and community programme for his oratory skills. He never hesitated to air his views on social media. “You are human, I am human too, and the only difference is having a spine!” he had posted less than two weeks before his death.

While West Bengal is no stranger to political violence, Anish’s unnatural demise has sparked massive protests across the State and rattled the Mamata Banerjee-led Trinamool Congress government. Soon after the news broke, students blocked roads at important arterial intersections and broke police barricades. By that evening, they had stopped traffic at the famous Park Circus crossing.

Calling for “immediate identification and punishment of the perpetrators of this heinous crime”, the Communist Party of India (Marxist) tweeted that “a strong critique of the Mamata Banerjee government” had been “killed at his residence”. A Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) MLA blamed the police for the incident. Mamata Banerjee announced that the State government would conduct an impartial investigation and a Special Investigation Team (SIT) was set up under the Chief Secretary. Reacting to statements about Anish being punished for attacking her government, she claimed that he was one of her own. “I was in touch with Anish,” she said, “and he had helped us during the elections”.

‘Job done, Sir’

Anish’s house in Dakhinkhanpara has been under construction for over five years. It has only a few windows and no railings. The bricks haven’t even received the first plaster of cement. The place from where Anish allegedly fell has a large opening demarcated for a window. Clothes have been hung out to dry. Villagers, journalists and investigators have climbed up the 23 stairs to the second floor nearly every day to look at the spot where the young man last stood. There is nothing to indicate that this is a crime scene, barring a small arrow mark on a brick to point to the spot from where he allegedly fell.

Anish’s father Salem Khan recalled the events of that fateful night. There was a knock on the door a little past midnight. Four persons, who said they were from the Amta police station, forced their way into the house, he said. Three of them were dressed as civic police volunteers and the fourth, a home guard, was dressed in khaki and holding a firearm.

The policemen told Salem that there was a police case against Anish. One of them put a gun to Salem’s head, while the other three ran up the stairs. Within minutes, they were back downstairs. “Job done, Sir,” they said briskly, and left. In a cold sweat, Salem rushed up to find his son lying motionless on the ground below in the dark of the night. He picked Anish up and rushed him to a nearby hospital. It was around 1.10 a.m. Just minutes earlier, at 1.03 a.m., Anish had posted on Facebook about a police officer in Shimla being arrested for alleged terror links.

A few hours later, a grief-stricken Salem called the Amta police station and narrated the whole incident. “What shall I do now,” he asked. The voice at the other end said the police had no information about the developments. Where is your son now, they asked. “He is dead,” Salem replied.

A few hours later Salem called up the police again with the same query. This time, he also demanded to know why the police had not visited the crime scene. It takes only 20 minutes to travel from Anish’s house to the police station, but the police arrived at the house only after 9 a.m., almost eight hours after the incident. Salem says the postmortem was conducted at a State-run hospital without the presence of any family member.

Investigation and whispers

Dakhinkhanpara is a bustling village with thatched huts and big ponds, but on February 28, the mood was sombre. After the furore over Anish’s death, the Calcutta High Court had ordered the police to exhume his body for a second postmortem. Salem remained inside the house. Their lawyer Imteaz Ahmed was the one talking. Almost half a dozen policemen stood guard near the entrance of the house. A group of investigators arrived later and sought the father’s permission to exhume the body of his son for a second postmortem.

Anger and curiosity ran high in the neighbourhood as thousands came out of their houses to witness the exhumation. Women stood on every roof in the locality, and men and boys surrounded the graveyard near the Sarada Abdul Taaj Club, just a hundred metres from the house of the Khan family. In the crowd, the watchful eyes of the state assessed the situation as well.

Fariduddin, a teacher at a local madrasa who had gone to watch the proceedings, said, “There is hardly any family in the neighbourhood where men have not migrated for work. For Anish to have completed an MBA from such a neighbourhood is no mean achievement.”

Safique Khan, a 46-year-old zari worker who has shifted to farming, had no doubt that Anish had been killed. This belief was strong in the village. “How could someone come and kill him in such a densely populated neighbourhood,” the residents whispered.

Sk Habibur Rehman, a few years senior to Anish at Aliah University, described his friend as a “pratibaadi (someone who stands up against injustice)”. Anish’s brother Shabir Khan also emphasised this trait. “He was never scared of anyone. I left home at the age of 14 to support the family. Our mother died a few years ago. One of our brothers is in Saudi Arabia. Anish was our hope and we were very proud of him,” he said.

“If the police kill, where will the family go to seek justice,” Habibur asked. In his early thirties, and dressed in a kurta-pyjama and a jacket, he stood out in the crowd. “Of late Anish was associated with the ISF (Indian Secular Front). He had one quality that not many know about: he was very good with announcements and conducting religious jalsas (celebrations),” he says. Hours before his death Anish had participated at a jalsa in his neighbourhood.

Few minutes later, two men in plain clothes approached this reporter. “Sir, what is the name of the AIMIM [All India Majlis-E-Ittehadul Muslimeen] guy you were talking to,” they asked about Habibur. “We saw you the day before yesterday.” After realising that they had approached the wrong person, the men said they are from the District Intelligence Branch of the Police. They apologised and requested that their identity be kept secret before the crowd. The presence of several intelligence officers of the District Police showed how closely the incident is being monitored.

Seeking justice for a justice-seeker

The alleged involvement of the police in the death of a Muslim youth has sparked waves of protests across West Bengal. As soon as the news of Anish’s mysterious death came to light, students of Aliah University hit the streets. The student and youth wings of the CPI(M) launched a massive campaign seeking justice for Anish. #InsaafForAnish has given a fresh momentum to the Left parties which have been holding protests outside Amta police station and in Kolkata for over two weeks. Amid the demonstrations, visitors from different political parties and civil rights organisations have met Salem. There have been a few exceptions too: when Trinamool Minister Pulak Roy tried to visit the father, he faced protests from locals at the village; and the BJP, the principal Opposition party in the State after the 2021 polls, decided against visiting Anish’s home and meeting his family members.

On February 26, the situation turned violent outside the office of the Howrah Rural Superintendent of Police at Panchla. Stones were hurled at the police who had to take shelter inside the office and then use force to disperse the crowd. Democratic Youth Federation of India State Secretary Minakshi Mukherjee and 16 other Left activists were arrested under non-bailable charges, including attempt to murder. As the CPI(M) leadership alleged physical torture on Minakshi, who had contested the Assembly polls against Banerjee in Nandigram, Salem received some unusual visitors on March 3. An elderly couple — Manoj Mukherjee and Parul Mukherjee — identifying themselves as Minakshi’s parents said they wanted to meet Salem after paying a visit to their daughter in prison. Salem promptly signed a mass petition seeking the release of Minakshi and other Left activists.

Banerjee was quick to not only set up a SIT to probe the death, but also call Anish as one of her own. However, Anish’s Facebook page, which can still be accessed easily, shows a number of posts targeting the Chief Minister.

On February 23, two police personnel — home guard Kashinath Bera and civic volunteer Pritam Bhattacharya — were arrested, but Anish’s family is not satisfied with either the arrests or with the SIT carrying out the probe. The arrested personnel said they had been made scapegoats and claimed that they had gone to Anish’s house on the instructions of seniors in the department.

It was only when Anish’s family knocked on the doors of the Calcutta High Court demanding a probe by the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) that the the police were directed, by the court, to exhume the body for a second postmortem. The court also ordered a forensic examination of Anish’s mobile phone. The West Bengal Police said it would bring the truth to light in 15 days, but failed to keep this promise. The police have been directed to complete the investigation by April 18.

The Muslims of West Bengal

Anish’s death and the aftermath begs one question: In a State where even elected councillors of the ruling party and the Opposition have been shot dead in public, why has the death of a Muslim youth become such an important political and social issue and shaken the government? There might be no simple answers to this question, but it has something to do with the social and political reality of Muslims in West Bengal.

Politically, the Muslims, comprising 27.01% of the population in the State (2011 Census), have overwhelmingly supported the Trinamool. The 2021 Assembly polls were fought by the BJP on a strong Hindutva pitch, the promise of implementing the CAA and “throwing one crore infiltrators into the Bay of Bengal”. The Muslim electorate threw its weight behind the Trinamool.

For decades, the minorities voted for the Left Front, but a shift began in 2006, when the Sachar Committee recommendations pointed out that a worryingly low number of Muslims held government jobs and could be found in higher education in West Bengal. The then Chief Minister, Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, said that the findings were not new and these realities were always known, but his assurances that the situation would change did not work. The Muslims shifted allegiance to the Trinamool, said a Muslim leader who did not want to be named. However, almost 15 years later, there seems to be a growing unease among Muslims on the question of social and economic empowerment.

Nazrul Islam, retired Additional Director General of Police, who runs a number of educational institutions in Murshidabad district, argued that the socioeconomic condition of Muslims has, in fact, worsened. “There are now even fewer Muslims in State government jobs than there were during the Left Front’s rule,” he said, pointing out that the community does not even have proportional representation in the State Assembly. After the 2021 polls, there are only 42 Muslim MLAs in a House of 294.

While releasing a report titled ‘Living Reality of Muslims in West Bengal’, in 2016, Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen had said Muslims “constitute a very large proportion of the poor in the State”. The report, by Association SNAP and Guidance Guild, in association with Professor Sen’s Pratichi India Trust, had pointed out that among literate Muslims, only 2.7% hold a graduate degree or more. Only 17% of Muslims in the State live in urban settlements against the national average of 28%.

Dealing with dissenters

Anish’s death also highlights how anyone questioning established power structures is frowned upon, kept an eye on, and even attacked in the rural hinterlands. Asit Mitra, Congress MLA who had represented Amta from 2011 to 2021, said Anish had approached him days after the 2021 Assembly polls requesting him to be the ‘chief guest’ at a blood donation camp that he wanted to organise in his village. “A few weeks later, Anish told me that local leaders opposed his plans and he could not organise the event,” Mitra said. The elderly Congress leader, who was the only politician to be present when Anish’s body was being exhumed, said a section of the local Trinamool leadership had been getting jittery over Anish’s popularity.

To illustrate how dissent is dealt with, Islam cited an incident from Murshidabad. On January 20, 2020, locals who had organised protests against the CAA were fired upon and two people lost their lives. “It was as if the ruling party has the sole right over organising any protests against the CAA and those organising protests without keeping the ruling party in the loop are trying to remove them from power,” he said.

Kirity Roy, a human rights activist known for highlighting human rights violations along the India-Bangladesh border, also visited Anish’s family. Roy and his organisation MASUM conducted a fact-finding mission. They said that Anish’s sister-in-law had alleged threats from locals and demanded action against the Trinamool booth president and his elder son. The fact-finding report pointed out that on May 24, 2021, Anish had lodged a written police complaint after his house had been vandalised by local Trinamool leaders who did not allow him to organise a blood donation camp.

Some in the Trinamool have rushed to give their own versions of what trasnpired. Saukat Mollah, MLA from Canning East, almost 150 km away from Amta, said Anish was climbing down the pipes from his house while trying to escape the police and fell down. Mollah did not seem to know that the house has no plaster, no running water and no pipes which Anish could have used to climb down.

Anish’s death is shockingly similar to the death of Rizwanur Rehman, a 30-year-old computer graphics teacher in Kolkata, 15 years ago. Rizwanur had married the daughter of a well-known Kolkata industrialist. The police had allegedly threatened Rahman of dire consequences if he did not separate from his wife. On a September evening in 2007, Rizwanur’s body was found on the railway tracks. His death embarrassed the Left Front government. Rizwanur had lived with his mother Kishwar Jahan at Tiljala lane in a Kolkata slum. That house had no running water and Kishwar, too, wanted ‘insaaf’ for her son.

Days after Anish’s death, when friends and relatives tried to press for a CBI probe, while showing a video clipping of 2007 to the media in which Mamata Banerjee was seen demanding a CBI probe into Rizwanur’s death, the family received a telephone call. “I read about it in the papers. I feel very sad. Please be patient,” Kishwar said over the phone. “Did your son get justice,” Salem asked. “I am still waiting for it. The matter is in court. Some day we will get justice. Please be patient,” she replied.

As he narrated the events of that day, Salem closed his eyes. “She wants justice for her son and I want the same,” he said and turned silent.