Jailbird, jury and judge: meet CPM’s nemesis in Berhampore

Jailed under MISA for six years in the seventies and again during the nineties, Chowdhury began his political life as a legislator. Till about a year ago, he figured in at least half-a-dozen murder cases. Speaking to The Indian Express after the panchayat polls, he said with a wide grin: ‘‘By the time the disqualification clause involving criminal cases for Members of Parliament comes into force, I will come totally clean. I still have some petty ones pending.’’

Chowdhury is no stranger to local elections: in the municipal polls in Berhampore in 1998, he led the Congress to a stunning 23-0 victory, routing both the Trinamool Congress and a formidable Left combine. In fact, most of the TMC and Left candidates forfeited their deposits. He followed up by winning the Murshidabad, Dhulian, Lalbagh and Jiaganj municipalities for the Congress.

But the Chowdhury legend was born during the 1996 assembly elections when he won his seat on a Congress ticket without meeting his constituents even once. In the bloody run-up to the elections, a number of people — including some key CPM leaders — were shot dead and Chowdhury was under a cloud.

Orders for his arrest came from Writers Buildings. On the run, Chowdhury found shelter in Kolkata. And from his hiding place, he asked his workers to campaign in his Nabagram constituency. They put up Chowdhury’s portrait on the dais at election meetings and played his recorded speeches.

‘‘It was a poll in absentia but I won with a margin of 20,000 votes,’’ he recalls. In 1999, he graduated to Parliament, winning the Berhampore Lok Sabha seat comfortably.

In his home constituency of Berhampore, Adhir is both dreaded and revered. A local leader says that when it comes to a clash of interests, Chowdhury is savage and uncompromising.

In Berhampore town, scores of youths in rival camps have been missing for years. People talk in whispers about how they were killed and their bodies dumped in the Chaltia lake on the outskirts of the town.

The police have not found many witnesses willing to depose against Chowdhury in the criminal cases registered against him. So, most of these cases have collapsed. As Chowdhury says, ‘‘everyone fears the ‘dana’ (pellets or cartridges), the police included.’’

He reveals that he always carries his licensed revolver. ‘‘So many times they have tried to bump me off. I still have those bullet marks on my chest,’’ he says, talking about an attempt on him in 1988 in Berhampore town. He was shot in the chest but grappled with his assailants and managed to hang on to one.

His political opponents attribute his stunning success to his ‘‘money power’’ besides the obvious muscle.

Chowdhury says whatever he earns is fair and through contracts from the government.

‘‘Haram ka nahi khatey,’’ he says proudly.

He attributes his success to the multi-layered organization from village to the district level that can take on the well-oiled CPI(M) machinery.

He admits to running a parallel justice system of his own — Vicharalaya.

‘‘When people fail to get justice from the police, they approach me for redress. I hold court and settle things. At times it gets physical but it works and crime in Berhampore town is well under control,’’ he adds.

When a schoolgirl was raped, her parents sought justice from Chowdhury. His goons beat up the boys and admitted them to hospital. They also paid for their treatment.