In October 2009, the Indian government was preparing a massive counter-insurgency push against Maoist rebels across central India. The campaign would later be branded Operation Green Hunt, a coordinated effort to reclaim ground in states like Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, and Odisha where the insurgents had entrenched themselves.
Just as the operation was gathering momentum, a public letter appeared on the activist platform Sanhati. Addressed to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, it carried an urgent plea: stop the security forces, withdraw the troops, and open dialogue instead.
Among the many signatures at the bottom was that of Arvind Kejriwal. At the time, Kejriwal was not a politician but an activist, known for his work on the Right to Information campaign. Still, the choice to sign this appeal was no small act. It placed him firmly in the company of people actively working against security forces to safeguard Maoists.
What the Letter Said
The tone of the appeal was uncompromising. It claimed the government’s planned operation was not about curbing Maoist violence but about displacing tribals for corporate gain.
“We are deeply concerned that what is being projected as a war against Maoists is, in reality, a war against the poorest of our people, the Adivasis, in order to grab their land and resources,” the letter read.
The signatories demanded:
“We call upon the Government to stop this war immediately. Instead of unleashing armed forces on its own citizens, it should initiate dialogue and address the real issues of exploitation and injustice.”
At a moment when Maoists were blowing up schools, ambushing patrols, and killing civilians, the letter chose to paint the state as the aggressor and the insurgents as little more than angry but justified rebels.
The Company He Kept
Kejriwal’s name appeared alongside some of the most vocal activist figures in the country.
- Medha Patkar, known for the Narmada Bachao Andolan, had for years cast state-led development as violent and illegitimate, often deflecting criticism away from Maoist killings.
- Aruna Roy, another well-known activist, had joined Kejriwal earlier in RTI campaigns and shared the view that government forces in tribal belts represented repression rather than protection.
- Harsh Mander, a bureaucrat turned activist, routinely framed Maoist violence as a “reaction” to injustice rather than an ideology of armed revolution.
- Nandini Sundar, an academic, campaigned directly against security operations in Chhattisgarh, challenging them in courts and portraying them as war crimes.
These were not voices standing outside the conflict. Many of them had repeatedly questioned or opposed India’s security response, even as Maoist attacks were rising. By signing alongside them, Kejriwal inevitably lent his name and credibility to a camp that was sharply critical of counter-insurgency efforts.
The Context of Bloodshed
The backdrop of this appeal was anything but theoretical. The years 2009 and 2010 were the bloodiest phase of the insurgency.
- In 2009, Maoist-related violence killed 998 people, including 392 civilians, 312 security personnel, according to the South Asia Terrorism Portal.
- In 2010, the toll climbed to 1,180 deaths, with 626 civilians and 277 security forces among them.
This was the time when Maoist ambushes like the Dantewada massacre, in which 76 CRPF jawans were killed in a single attack, shocked the country. Villagers were being executed as “informers.” Road construction crews were blown up in landmine blasts. Entire swathes of India’s heartland were slipping into insurgent control.
For the families of soldiers and policemen returning home in coffins, the Sanhati letter was not an abstract exercise in rights advocacy. It felt like betrayal. At the very moment their loved ones were dying in uniform, activists in Delhi were demanding that the Prime Minister call off the operations meant to restore order.
Why Kejriwal’s Signature Matter
Arvind Kejriwal was not yet a politician in 2009, but he was far from politically naïve. He knew the weight that public petitions carried. Signing that appeal was a conscious choice, not a slip of judgment. It revealed where he stood in one of India’s most violent internal conflicts: with those who wanted the state to step back and the Maoists to breathe easier.
It was a test of alignment. On one side were the men and women in uniform, fighting an insurgency that was killing hundreds each year. On the other were activists who insisted the guns be lowered and the troops pulled out. Kejriwal chose the latter camp.
Fifteen Years Later
Today, in September 2025, Kejriwal is no longer Delhi’s Chief Minister. His political career has been shaken by corruption cases, imprisonment, and shifting alliances. But the 2009 letter still sits in the public record, a quiet reminder of the choices he once made.
For supporters, it can be explained away as part of his activist past, a time when his focus was on rights and transparency. For critics, it is evidence of something deeper: that when confronted with the Maoist question, Kejriwal put his name to a letter that sought to block India’s fight against one of its deadliest insurgencies.
It is not just a footnote in his biography. It is a marker. A moment that shows the company he kept, the causes he endorsed, and the side he chose when the nation was bleeding.
