Discursive (in)securities and postcolonial anxiety: Enabling excessive militarism in India

Introduction

Militarism and security have an incontestable meeting point not just in discursive practices and conceptual and policy frameworks, but also in material and cultural manifestations. They may seem interchangeable and synonymous or even mutually constitutive. In most widely accepted and popular understandings, militarism aimed at securing social collectives (ethnic or religious groups) and political entities such as states engenders various forms of insecurities (Sahadevan, 2002). In fact, the related process of demilitarization as the reduction of armed presence and the diminution of militaristic values and militarism’s overall reach is widely recommended by security studies scholars and peace activists as the necessary precondition for more security of life, property and livelihood and the general well-being of people (Shaw, 2013: 20). It is the inverse and contradictory relationship between security and militarism – two popular and contested concepts in the discipline of international relations – that I want to problematize from a postcolonial perspective.

My first contention is that the intimacy between the state and militarism in the name of achieving territorial sovereignty and security for all individuals and communities is the by-product of a certain ‘postcolonial anxiety’ (Krishna, 1999) in many parts of the Third World. Militarism in postcolonial nation-states is often attributed to the lack of Western notions of professionalism and discipline in the armed forces that enables the latter to permeate easily into civilian lives and values (Luckham, 1994; cf. Eriksson Baaz and Verweijen, this issue). However, as the case of India demonstrates, ‘postcolonial anxiety’ does not result in uniform adherence to or a linear trajectory of militarism in postcolonial states. In India, this anxiety was exacerbated with the onset of globalization and has resulted in what I call ‘excessive militarism’ in the last three decades. This phase of militarism is rooted in the ideological reorientation of the ruling elite and also reflected in the larger social and political reorientation shared among a sizeable section of the population (Chenoy, 2002).

On the temporal landscape, Indian militarism coincided with neoliberal developmentalism in the Third World, which emerged as part of the post-Cold War globalization and expansion of security debates and policies. The second contention of the article is that the democratization of security concerns made it possible for the state to transform its reticent citizenry into enthusiastic supporters of militarism as a necessary precondition for development and governance. This allowed postcolonial nation-states like India to stay in contention with their Western counterparts, even as they competed with other political and economic actors in the globalized free market and the neoliberal world order. Contrary to popular perceptions about the widening of security as weakening state sovereignty, the state emerged as the only legitimate actor capable of fulfilling security and development objectives through militaristic approaches that have had tacit approval from various sections of the citizenry. In so doing, it also established a complex co-constitutive relationship between the state and militarism, a phenomenon that combines nation-state militarism with neoliberal/developmental militarism (Mabee and Vucetic, this issue).

In postcolonial states like India, popular legitimacy for militarism exists as an aspirational condition, not just for protecting the sovereignty of the state but also for civilian resistance against the state directed towards the protection and preservation of ‘bare life’ (Mabee and Vucetic this issue; Abrahamsen, this issue; Basham, this issue). ‘Excessive militarism’ is enabled through formal military institutions and informal military culture. It discourages any critique of military and militaristic values that targets the actions of the nation-state and its fragile sovereignty. The security and development paradigm is presented as a quid pro quo arrangement between the state and its citizens, where the latter are obliged to enable, approve and participate in the securing of the state as their primary duty, in return for development benefits.

In the following sections, I first engage with the concept of militarism in relation to the fragile and ambiguous concept of security as an analytical and policy tool. The latter is upheld and maintained by states to engender ‘excessive militarism’ to protect their postcolonial sovereignty. I then outline the historical trajectory of the Indian state to argue that its ‘postcolonial anxiety’ engenders militarism not in the immediate aftermath of independence from colonial rule, as in other postcolonial states, but as an anomaly since the end of the Cold War and the advent of globalization. I argue that the move towards neoliberal globalization and the expansion of security has had a blowback effect, resulting in ‘excessive militarism’ linked to the security–development nexus in the postcolonial world.

Excessive militarism and (in)securities: A conceptual overview

The concept of militarism has witnessed several evolutions over time (Stavrianakis and Selby, 2013). Historically, militarism was considered ‘an ideology that glorifies war, military institutions, and martial values’ (Stavrianakis, 2015: 490; see also Chenoy, 2002). In its later manifestations, militarism was considered as the representative characteristic of a regime, as the dominant theme of political and social organization, or as a process privileging military over ‘civilian’ spheres and subjectivities (Eriksson Baaz and Verweijen, this issue). Scholars have proposed different interpretations of the concept of militarism and have associated it with the politics of (in)security (Åhäll, 2016: 162; Frowd and Sandor, this issue), with intersections between the geopolitical and the everyday (Basham, this issue), and with desire (Eastwood, this issue).

Militarism is understood as a set of discourses either leading to or emerging from the processes of militarization (Luckham, 1994). It is a representational phenomenon that accentuates military influence in the shaping of political and social organizations in order to keep the individual, society and the state in a heightened status of war preparedness (Shaw, 2013; Frowd and Sandor, this issue). The processes of militarization entail the expansion of military practices and military power into a society’s non-military sectors (Kinsella, 2013). Militarism and militarization are not interchangeable but are interdependent concepts, such that ‘in militarization, militarism is extended, in demilitarization, it contracts’ (Shaw, 2013: 20). Not only are many countries in the Third World heavily militarized and ruled by military regimes, but also militarism is deeply entrenched in nominal and established democracies (Visweswaran, 2013).

Like ‘patriarchy’, in its ubiquitous usage ‘militarism’ is singular, flattening out any differences in its manifestations across time and space. There is a horizontal expansion of the many meanings of the core concept. I am interested in the unevenness of militarism and the vertical degrees of differentiation that denote its absence, its minimal or normal presence, or its excessive occurrence. This differentiation is necessary in order to understand the trajectory of militarism in postcolonial societies that are gripped by a certain anxiety about their existence in the nation-state mode. This ‘postcolonial anxiety’ is either kept in check by domestic factors (leadership, anti-colonial legacy, internal democracy, etc.) or exacerbated by global events (globalization, Cold War, 9/11 and the Global War on Terror, global financial crisis, etc.).

‘Excessive militarism’, in particular, was embraced by India with the advent of globalization after the end of the Cold War. Since then, heightened militarism based around exceptional circumstances such as war and internal strife has acquired a quotidian character. ‘Excessive militarism’ signifies ‘a shift from the regulation of the military within the state to regulation by the military of the social order on behalf of the state’ (Neocleous, 2008: 47) in which a broad consensus is forged with the citizenry. An amenable attitude towards militarism among the general public is maintained by a two-part strategy: on the one hand, defining the ideology of national security by delineating national identity in contrast to the ‘other’ (Neocleous, 2008: 108), and on the other, obliterating ‘the distinction between military practice and the everyday political administration of civil society, thereby “securing” a general willingness among the citizenry to submit to wartime discipline and emergency powers on a permanent basis’ (Neocleous, 2008: 117). Although the state is the driver of ‘excessive militarism’, a sizeable section of the population and civil society endorses and supports the state’s endeavours. In India, ‘excessive militarism’ works in three ways:

Few concepts encapsulate the depth and breadth of human experience as much as ‘security’, and therefore, the definition and scope of that term is quite wide-ranging, contested and even vague. Throughout the Cold War period, security was envisaged in narrow state-centric terms, where military and political power were seen as prerequisites for securing the national interest (Buzan et al., 1998). State-induced militarism not only secured the state’s sovereign and territorial borders against external threats, but also assured its political status and power. The end of the Cold War heralded an era of globalization (Ohame, 1990) that brought in a new security environment in the Third World. State power was challenged by internal insurgencies, and militarism was no longer a state monopoly in Asia and Africa. Security was democratized and, paradoxically, the untethering of the state and militarism was deemed a necessary condition for bringing security to individuals, societies and polities.

In the last three decades, although human security has emerged as a powerful intervention in the security debate, it has not led to the reduced influence of militarism. Two articles in this special issue make a direct link between provisions for human security and militarism. The foreign military and security assistance to Africa’s militaries in their fight against violent extremism can be justified in humanitarian terms, while serving the national security interests of donor states (Abrahamsen, this issue; Frowd and Sandor, this issue). During the Cold War period, militarism determined security needs and preferences. In the 21st century, it is security as conceptually amorphous and easily invoked that enables militarism to percolate into and govern the everyday lives of people. The concept of security has, thus, become quite fragile in contemporary times, as it represents a cross-section of distinct and mutually contradictory practices, objectives and outcomes. The complex relationship between security, militarism and the state is mediated by ‘postcolonial anxiety’ in the Third World, as I discuss next.

Postcolonial anxiety and militarism: The case of India

For states in the ‘Third World’, the dawn of independence and self-rule meant that local elites replaced their imperial masters but continued to perpetuate colonial structures and reproduce colonial subjectivities (Gandhi, 1998). Most postcolonial states adopted the colonial logic of resilient states defined by strong military power and militarization became essential for sustaining their sovereign status and rule. This overreliance on military power in Third World states has normalized militarism in the everyday lives of citizens and their ruling elites. Many postcolonial states have relied heavily upon Western arms exports and military assistance to preserve their rule. However, Third World militarism is often contrasted with the standard (read ‘Western’) forms of militarism and is considered the outcome of ‘deviant’ militarization in these postcolonial nation-states. This deviance is attributed to the lack of Western notions of professionalism and discipline in the armed forces and their penchant for coups d’état (Eriksson-Baaz and Verweijen, this issue; Luckham, 1994). It is undeniable that postcolonial societies have witnessed numerous instances of military coups and a number of putative civilian governments are dictated to by their militaries.

‘Postcolonial anxiety’ among states enables them to imagine their legitimacy and territorial control through militarism, overriding other modes of social and cultural existence. Sankaran Krishna (1999) refers to postcolonial anxiety as a persistent desire among Third World states to be considered equal to Western/European models of the enlightened liberal state. This anxiety leads to ‘mimetic constructions’ of the European/Western social order where ‘the story of what once happened in Europe constitutes the knowledge that empowers state elites as they attempt to fashion their nations in the image of what are considered successful nation-states’ (Krishna, 1999: xix). In this process, postcolonial elites fashion plural civilizations into ‘lean, uniform, hyper-masculine, and disciplined nation-states’ (Krishna, 1999: xix), replicating the historical trajectory and modernity of the Western world. These modernizing elites respond to ‘postcolonial anxiety’ by peddling the virtues of militarism not only as a means to provide security for the state and citizens, but also to restore masculine pride and acquire international status and prestige through visible manifestations of militarism in private and public lives.

India is a relevant case study, primarily because of the persistent ‘postcolonial anxiety’ demonstrated by both the ruling elite and intergenerational citizenry. As already indicated, this anxiety has enabled a complex relationship with militarism on the part of the state – from critical distancing in the early years to excessive deployment since the end of the Cold War. India’s encounters with European colonization had their genesis in economic opportunities, but the robust and enduring colonial project was sustained through militarism – a phenomenon underscored by the fact that a private commercial entity, the East India Company, in 1835 came to possess an army that was ‘much larger than the whole of the British army, at home and abroad’ (Halperin, 2013: 130). India gained its independence from British colonial rule in 1947 through a largely nonviolent and non-militaristic political movement led by Mahatma Gandhi. The struggle for Indian independence also attracted some revolutionary groups that believed in militarism and political violence. However, these groups remained at the political and social fringes (Sarkar, 1989).

In the British imperial narrative, India was a civilizational entity of many nations that could be ‘ordered’ and ‘disciplined’ under colonial rule (Chaturvedi, 2002; Metcalf, 1995). Prominent imperialists such as British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill had ridiculed the idea of India as a nation-state, claiming that ‘India is merely a geographical expression. It is no more a single country than the Equator’ (quoted in Tharoor, 1998: 128). Several scholars have investigated the statebuilding project of postcolonial India, inadvertently reiterating the imperialist’s condescending worldview. In their critique of the imposition of the European model of the ‘nation-state’ on India, they depict the Indian nation-state either as a nationalist myth or as a transient geopolitical phenomenon (Krishna, 1994, 1999; Samaddar, 1999). Krishna (1994) refers to India’s ‘cartographic anxiety’ that stems from its birth by amputation in the bloody events of Partition (the division of the country into India and Pakistan in 1947), and Samaddar (1999: 108) refers to the postcolonial anxiety of a society suspended forever in the space between the ‘former colony’ and ‘not-yet-nation’.

The postcolonial Indian state adopted Gandhian nonviolence and pacifism as its cherished principles. Indian nationalist leaders who participated in the anticolonial movement regarded the military as a tool of the British Raj (Cohen, 2001: 128), and a dominant military-industrial complex did not develop in the early years. In the 1950s and 1960s, India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, pursued policies of nonalignment at the international level to impede the swift militarization of Third World countries under the tutelage of the two major powers. Nehru was a renowned pacifist who prioritized national investment to improve the socio-economic conditions of the population. It has been argued that Nehru endeavoured to maintain civilian control over the military establishment, even at the cost of long-term military strategy (Raghavan, 2014).

Like several other postcolonial states in the Third World, India inherited contested boundaries and historical animosities with its immediate neighbours. The 1962 military debacle with China exposed India’s military and institutional frailties. Nehru, the architect of nonalignment and non-militarism, accepted the chasm between idealism and realism, and stated in the parliament, ‘We were getting out of touch with reality in the modern world, and were living in an artificial atmosphere of our own creation’ (Nehru cited in Bajpai, 2012). In the decades following the Sino-Indian border war of 1962, India’s real and perceived vulnerabilities led to a phenomenon referred to as the ‘classic development–defence dilemma affecting Third World countries’ (Matthews, 1988: 61). In the post-Nehruvian period, India began the slow but steady pursuit of strategic objectives and military capabilities over socio-economic development, thereby elevating military and defence matters as the primary national priority (Kapur, 2010: 70). Militarism in India emerged as a response to specific situations in the 1970s and 1980s (which included internal armed revolts in the northeast and Punjab and by the Naxalites in Bengal), but gathered momentum only in the post-liberalization of the 1990s.

‘Humanizing’ militarism against popular dissent

Militarism in India mirrored colonial practices of the ‘consolidation of military power in order to strengthen the enterprise of nation-building’ (Kazi, 2014). This was especially demonstrated in the conflict between the state and various insurgent groups, some with secessionist goals that aimed to unsettle the ‘nation-building’ project and accentuate the threats of national-territorial disintegration. The movements for greater autonomy or secession in the states of Jammu and Kashmir, Punjab and India’s northeast and the Maoist insurgency in central and eastern India have all directly challenged the government’s authority and undermined the state’s legitimacy (Cohen, 2001). The political or geographical disintegration of India is perceived as a serious threat; and, while the unprecedented powers conferred upon the military by the state have found acceptance, the creeping militarism in civic affairs enjoys much greater approval. In popular imagination, the Indian army is a symbol of state power, a flag-bearer of national resolve and an enforcer of national will both within and outside the country. The existence of the Armed Forces Special Powers Act in India further exemplifies the acceptance of the superior authority and often impunity of the military in conflict zones or ‘disturbed’ areas.

Several studies have demonstrated that the Indian state, much like its colonial predecessor, continues to unleash indiscriminate violence on its ‘disobedient citizenry’ (Malreddy, 2014: 599) through laws, regulations, policies, armed forces and paramilitary units (Kazi, 2014; Malreddy, 2014; Sundar, 2014). State authorities often cite the objectives of preserving territorial integrity and maintaining national security as the justification for these atrocities. Acclaimed as egalitarian, secular and professional, the Indian armed forces have acquired greater legitimacy to engage with the dissenting population and to manufacture goodwill for their efforts in the national interest. The army-sponsored Operation Sadbhavana (goodwill) in the conflict areas of Kashmir illustrates this point. In order to ‘humanize’ the military, the Indian army has issued large posters with the message Jawan aur Awam, Aman Hai Muqaam (the soldier and the people, peace is the destination) (Anant, 2011). The army states that the focus of Operation Sadbhavana in Kashmir and the northeastern states is to improve the overall core social indices of education, women and youth empowerment, and health care, with capacity-building through the implementation of community and infrastructure development projects. ‘These civic actions include a wide range of activities across the entire spectrum of development and demonstrate the “humane face” of the soldier’ (Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, 2013). The idea of such an operation is based on the belief that ‘human security is the key element of national security, which can only be ensured through human and infrastructure development’ (Anant, 2011: 14).

It is suggested in army public relations that these efforts to ‘humanize’ soldiering (with the armed forces otherwise only being recognized for their war efforts and violence) bring development to remote areas that lack a functioning civil administration. The army considers it a ‘humane’ programme to ‘win the hearts and minds of people’, to restore people’s faith in the state and integrate them into the nation (Chadha, 2011). However, M. M. Ansari, an interlocutor on Kashmir, has suggested that the ‘army’s much-hyped Operation Sadbhavana is further undermining the civil administration in the state’, adding that the overarching presence of the army in Kashmir has ‘encroached substantially into areas of administration and governance, which in the long-run will be counterproductive’ (Hindustan Times, 2011). Aggarwal and Bhan suggest that ‘the military’s foray into governance was not merely a neutral or altruistic undertaking, but one that aided the military in strengthening its structures of power and pacification’ (2009: 539). Srinath Raghavan (2014) argues that the increasing role of the military in civilian and political life in India threatens to put the army and its values over and above societal values.

The expansion of militarist culture as part of India’s excessive militarism could be clearly seen shortly after the Indian army’s cross-border surgical strikes against terrorist camps in Pakistani territory in September 2016. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who has spent all his Diwalis (festival of light) with the army, launched a campaign requesting people to write to soldiers and convey their emotions and gratitude on the occasion of the festival (Indian Express, 2016). In October 2016, while inaugurating a war memorial, Modi asked people to ‘develop a tradition to show respect to our defence forces’ through small gestures such as applauding a soldier (Indian Express, 2016). As a result, in April 2017, Indian soldiers returning from a UN peacekeeping mission abroad were pleasantly surprised to find people applauding and cheering them at the airport in Delhi (Vohra, 2017).

This growing imposition and acceptance of militarism can be seen in the recent pronouncements to cultivate patriotism in universities, which have previously opposed and demonstrated against the state’s policies and practices (D’Souza, 2017). Jawaharlal Nehru University’s vice chancellor ordered a decommissioned tank to be placed on the university premises to honour the sacrifices of defence personnel trained at the university (Sharma, 2017). A ‘Wall of Heroes’ with photos of 21 recipients of one of the highest military awards for courage (Param Vir Chakra) was also inaugurated at the university in 2017 (Kausar, 2017). A student political group at Hyderabad Central University had set up a memorial to honour the martyrs of the Kargil War between India and Pakistan in 1999. This was later demolished by the university administration (Biswas, 2017). In a similar move, India’s Defence Research and Development Organisation held a three-day exhibition to showcase various indigenously developed defence products in the parliament complex (The Wire, 2016). The growth of right-wing vigilante armies (sena) of young men (such as Sri Ram Sena, Hindu Raksha Sena, Rudra Ram Sena and Kali Sena) who operate as cultural and moral police also reflect the acceptance of militaristic values in the social sphere.

The intimate and gendered relationship between militarism and the state, whereby both enable and endorse each other, is further demonstrated in the celebration of the Indian festival of Raksha Bandhan (also known as Rakhi or the bond between siblings). Rakhi is usually a sacred thread tied by sisters to their brothers in exchange for ‘security’ and ‘protection’. In 2016, the Indian government (for the first time) ordered all its women ministers to visit the border areas and tie the sacred thread or Rakhi to military personnel posted in those areas to ‘secure’ the nation (Varma, 2016). These symbolic gestures of ‘humanizing the soldier’ are to ensure that militarism is brought into the social mainstream, and blends with traditional cultural practices as well as contemporary popular culture. I now turn to militarism’s encounter with the security–development nexus that most postcolonial states have embraced in their efforts to deal with the challenges of neoliberal globalization.

Militarism and the security–development nexus

The ‘democratization’ of security theories and practices emerged at a time when neoliberal globalization was being embraced, especially by Third World states in the 1990s. The focus on human security, in particular, has established a reciprocal relationship between security and development: ‘there can be no development without security and no security without development’ (Duffield, 2006: 28). The security–development nexus has been situated within specific historical and contemporary political arrangements (Berger and Weber, 2009; Duffield, 2010; Hettne, 2010; Jensen, 2010). Hettne highlights the ‘geopolitics of poverty’ manifested during the Cold War, wherein development was tied to a bipolar world order or the competition between two different socio-economic systems. In particular, he notes how ‘development’ rationales are informed by perceived ‘security arrangements’ (Hettne, 2010: 32).

Post-9/11, the security–development nexus shifted from ‘humanitarian intervention’ to ‘pre-emptive intervention’ or the ‘war against terrorism’ (Hettne, 2010: 45). Within this specific historical juncture wherein the global order is characterized by unipolarity, coercive dominance and neoconservatism, the nexus is enacted through counterinsurgency (Duffield, 2010; Jensen, 2010). The contemporary nexus is also enacted through the concept of ‘sustainable security’ in response to the occurrence of ‘complex humanitarian emergencies’ that include ‘not only physical destruction but social exclusion, depletion of “social capital”, erosion of civil society, decay of institutions and decline of civility’ (Hettne, 2010: 45). The deepening of the security–development nexus through neoliberal economic policies has in fact generated greater insecurities in several postcolonial countries, where the state is seen as a security threat to its own citizens (Stern and Öjendal, 2010; Parashar, 2013).

India was faced with great political and economic uncertainties at the end of the Cold War. The Soviet-inspired centrally controlled economic model had turned into a full-fledged economic crisis. The stagnation of India’s economic growth led to serious introspection on the erstwhile developmental philosophy and a search for an alternative development model. In 1992, India abandoned its quasi-socialist economic policies and adopted neoliberal economic reforms under the direct supervision of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. India’s submission to neoliberal globalization merged the local and global markets, linked domestic and multinational capital, and allowed the state and the market to usurp natural resources in the name of development, thereby causing widescale dispossession of the peasantry and tribal forest dwellers (Basu and Das, 2013). This has led to major economic hardships for the already struggling population and provided inspiration to various revolutionary groups to launch violent campaigns against the state (Guha, 2007). It can be argued that the Indian state has paradoxically caused insecurity to large sections of the population in the name of achieving economic progress or development.

Indian history records a large number of peasant rebellions during the British colonial period (Guha, 1983), but the most prominent revolutionary group in postcolonial India who rose against the new economic model are the Maoists, earlier known as the Naxalites (Parashar and Shah, 2016). The Naxalbari rebellion started in the state of West Bengal in 1967 and was led by the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist). The present-day Maoist rebels, comprised mainly of adivasis (indigenous people), derive inspiration from the Naxalites and believe in overthrowing the Indian state through armed insurrection (Gupta, 2007: 169). The armed militia of the Maoists, the People’s Liberation Guerrilla Army, has an estimated strength of around 40,000, with over one million sympathizers (Malreddy, 2014: 596). The Maoists have launched a number of serious attacks on Indian security forces and paramilitary troops, killing both civilians and armed personnel.

The state has implemented a two-pronged approach to deal with this insurgency, firmly anchored in the security–development nexus. It has implemented development policies under the Integrated Action Plan: the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act, the National Rural Health Mission, the Scheduled Tribes and Other Traditional Forest Dwellers (Recognition of Forest Rights) Act, and the National Food Security Act, among others, to ameliorate the dire economic situation faced by a large population that is attracted to the armed rebellion (Parashar, 2013). While these new initiatives have brought in much-needed investment to mitigate the overall socio-economic deficiencies in certain parts of India, there have been few changes to the deeply flawed model of governance. More importantly, the Indian state strategy makes security the precondition for implementing these developmental assistance programmes, which are driven by the objective of bringing the conflict-ridden area under complete government control (Guha, 2007).

A test case of a security-oriented and development-focused approach in Maoist-affected areas was implemented in the Indian state of Jharkhand. In August 2011, Indian paramilitary forces ‘liberated’ an area in the Saranda forests of Jharkhand after 11 years of Maoist control and domination. A novel governance initiative called the ‘Saranda Development Plan’ was launched, the objective being to unleash a broad range of health, education, employment and infrastructure development activities in the region. The short-term objectives of the plan included distribution of solar lamps, bicycles, transistors and musical instruments for all families, building houses and making pension payments in cash. All of this has been managed under the supervision of security forces (Parashar, 2013).

State expenditure on maintaining security forces in the Maoist conflict-affected areas far exceeds the developmental aspects of the total state budget. Apart from the expenditure on weapons, the state has established various special forces to fight the Maoist insurgency ever since it was declared the ‘biggest internal security threat’ in 2010 (Hindu, 2010). Military-style specialist security units such as the Greyhound Commandos, the Special Task Force and the Cobra Battalion have been deployed to fight the Maoist insurgents. The state has also launched armed vigilante groups by recruiting mercenaries from among the adivasi population to counter the Maoists – for example, the Salwa Judum in the state of Chhattisgarh. Salwa Judum means ‘purification hunt’ and is officially referred to as the peace campaign (Sundar, 2014). Initially, Salwa Judum was ‘touted as a grass root movement, spontaneously cropping up in response to the excesses of the Maoists’ (Gupta, 2007: 176). However, the Chhattisgarh state government proceeded to employ and arm members of local tribes to fight against those within their own communities who were suspected of supporting the Maoists. This led to ‘unprecedented internecine warfare with far-reaching consequences for the daily life of the tribal population’ (Banerjee, 2009: 266). The campaign was launched in 2005, lasted for about six years and involved a civilian army of 18,000–20,000 people (Myrdal, 2012: 220) who perpetrated indiscriminate violence against the local population.

The Salwa Judum campaign was officially abandoned in 2009 on the orders of the Supreme Court of India, only to be replaced by an outright military campaign under the banner of ‘Operation Greenhunt’. Whereas Salwa Judum had been restricted to the state of Chhattisgarh, Operation Greenhunt was launched simultaneously in Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand and Odisha, and widespread public consensus was built around it through a massive propaganda machinery. With direct involvement of the security forces, Operation Greenhunt is a much fiercer militaristic campaign than Salwa Judum in terms of its scope and execution. The military operations are backed by a strong campaign to bring back ‘deviant’ citizens to the path of righteous citizenry (Parashar, 2018). The causes of the Maoist conflict, the state responses to it and civilian vigilantism such as Salwa Judum demonstrate the extent to which the security–development nexus produces ‘excessive militarism’ as material and affective labour performed by the state and citizens. The language of ‘threat’ and ‘security’ is adopted by both the state and the Maoists who desire sovereign control over a unilinear, homogenous, territorial nation-state. In the existing perpetual state of (in)security and (under)development, militarism’s excesses become both the causes and the consequences of this conflict.

Conclusion

The article has highlighted the significance of militarism as both a conceptual and a policy tool for understanding state behaviour and intervention, especially in postcolonial contexts. The referent of security has moved away from the state, but the latter remains both the source of continued threats and the provider of security through militarism, not just in the conventional sense but also in humanitarian and development initiatives. The salience of militarism in discourse and practice and its explanatory potential have been further emphasized by the discussion on ‘postcolonial anxiety’ that enables states like India to embrace what I have described as ‘excessive militarism’.

The raison d’état of the postcolonial Indian state has undergone a complete transformation, from Gandhian ideals of nonviolence, promoting the idea of pluralistic India as a peaceful abode of the persecuted, to the realist ideals of survival though harsh military measures. Militarism in India is not a direct response to exceptional circumstances or any singular catastrophic event (such as the attacks of 11 September 2001 in the USA), but a gradual yet steep militarization of all aspects of society, polity and structures of governance. With security having receded into the background through being rendered conceptually nebulous, militarism thus, opens up new spaces for understanding the complex state-building processes of postcolonial societies, the fraught and textured relationship between state and citizens, and the constant tensions and negotiations between civilian lives and military culture.