The scenes were unprecedented: the ire of a clutch of Adivasis on display as they confronted a posse of policemen in a densely forested wildlife sanctuary in Kerala's Wayanad district on February 19. As the men in uniform tried to force their way past the jungle army which had "liberated" a part of the sanctuary and declared it "self-ruled land", they met with stiff resistance. Leading the tribals was a 32-year-old spitfire of a woman who soon overwhelmed the policemen and took them hostage.

BATTLE ZONE: Police and the tribals clash in Muthanga forest range

Expectedly, all hell broke loose at the district headquarters close to the Muthanga sanctuary, which falls in the Nilgiri biosphere. The collector rushed to the disputed forest range, but didn't dare to venture beyond a checkpost that the Adivasis had set up to protect their land since January 4. His desperate pleas for the release of the policemen were relayed to the leader of the Adivasis, C.K. Janu, through a set of intermediaries. After hours of negotiations, the tribals relented but only just: of the 40 policemen they held hostage, a handful was released.

The police then decided to go on the offensive. A 500-strong contingent descended on the scene and what followed was a fierce clash that saw an Adivasi and a policeman losing their lives while scores were left injured. Finally the police overpowered the Adivasis and took into custody nearly half of the 500 tribals who had occupied the Muthanga sanctuary since January. Janu and M. Geethanandan, the inspiration behind the Adivasi Gothra Mahasabha, the outfit that spearheads the current agitation, escaped but were caught on the outskirts of the sanctuary on February 22.

The crisis may have been defused for the moment, but for the authorities, it is still not time for celebration. The arrests of Janu and Geethanandan-who have alleged torture in the lock-up-have at best offered only a reprieve in a prolonged struggle in which three lakh tribals in the northern part of the state have been demanding the return of forest land that once belonged to them. In August 2001, Janu and her comrades marched from Wayanad to Thiruvananthapuram. In the state capital they caught the police and the authorities unawares. They put up huts around the secretariat and refused to budge for 48 days. The agitation was called off only after Chief Minister A.K. Antony promised the 40,000-odd landless tribal families in the state five acres each within a year.

According to the agreement arrived at with the Adivasis, the distribution of land was to commence from January 2002. But till January this year, only 1,748 acres have been distributed to 850 families, prompting Janu to launch the second stage of her protest in which she and her followers walked into the sanctuary and claimed it as theirs. Caught by surprise once again, Antony vowed not to buckle. "Although we are sympathetic towards the tribals' cause, we won't allow an armed revolution," says the chief minister. He even accused the tribals of having links with Maoist groups and conspiring to abduct two state ministers.

"How can a government tolerate such extremist tactics?" he asks.

Such statements however do not address the real issue, which is the implementation of a 28-year-old law. Back in 1975, the CPI-led coalition government headed by C. Achutha Menon had passed a legislation to restore to the tribals the land that was taken away from them during the previous decade. All land transactions from tribals to non-tribals since 1960 were declared illegal. But thanks to pressure from influential encroachers who had grabbed the tribal land, the law was never implemented. In 1986, an amendment was incorporated to extend the cut-off year of declaring transactions illegal from 1960 to 1982. But even this law was not implemented.

In 1993, following the first stirrings of Adivasi anger, the Kerala High Court intervened and gave the state government a six-month ultimatum to put the law into practice. But the government dilly-dallied for another three years, till 1996, when the court threatened to initiate contempt proceedings for non-implementation. This led to another hurried amendment under which the cut-off date was extended to 1992. A series of subsequent developments ensured that the law was passed only in 1999. But even after that, doubts about its implementation persist.

By promising the return of five acres to each of the Adivasi families, the chief minister may have overstretched himself. The commitment was made on the basis of the information provided by the State Tribal Resettlement Mission that more than 1,10,000 acres of land were available for distribution. The Government now says only 2,300 acres of land are available. Forest Secretary E.K. Bharatbhushan points to a Central law that bans the diversion or distribution of forest land for purposes other than what has been stipulated. The state Government, now awaiting clearance from the Union Government to take over more forest land, has decided to buy the 7,000-acre Aralam Farm in Kannur owned by the Centre.

Much of the focus is currently on the Wayanad clash itself. With the Adivasis claiming that the death toll of their men in the incident was much higher than the "official" figure of one, the Centre and the National Human Rights Commission have sought a full-fledged enquiry into the conflict. The state Opposition too is making the most of the event. Giving the tribals' cause a celebrity flavour was the intervention of activist-writer Arundhati Roy who flew down to meet Janu in jail. "The incidents remind one of the excesses during the Emergency," says journalist and Rajya Sabha MP Kuldip Nayyar, who is trying to mediate between the tribals and the Government.

Meanwhile, Janu and Geethanandan, till recently the symbol of the Adivasis' cause, find themselves fending off charges. Janu is accused of misleading the Adivasis and pushing them into a clash, for which they face criminal charges, including murder. There are also allegations that Janu receives funds from missionary groups abroad. Organisations for the protection of environment like the Prakrithi Samrakshana Samithi point out that the tribals have no right to occupy land in a wildlife sanctuary.

With Janu behind bars, the authorities hope her agitation will die down. But those rallying behind her vow that it will not happen. After all, it is not just her reputation at stake. It is a case of bringing a 28-year-old struggle to its logical end.