Blessed are those who are able to die a natural death in Thalassery: said an anguished Justice V Ramkumar of the Kerala High Court while handing over a murder case to the CBI on March 11.

The timing of the order and the observations could not have been more significant as the CPM and BJP had been stalling Parliament proceedings over the killings in Thalassery and the attack on CPM headquarters in Delhi.

In all, five BJP-RSS activists and two CPM men perished in a macabre dance of death unleashed by killer squads in Kannur district, often called the crucible of Communist politics in Kerala. The first to be attacked was a local RSS leader of Thalassery N B Suresh, whose palm was cut off on March 5.

The retaliation came in less than an hour when CPM worker Ranjith Kumar, an autorickshaw driver, was hacked to death. That evening, Nikhil, 28, a BJP supporter, was chased by a gang on bikes near his home and killed. The head of another BJP worker Satyan was found severed from his body later.

There was nothing astounding in the nature of attacks which arose out of a hysteric craving for revenge, or the “crime” the victims committed — that they were activists or sympathisers of their respective parties. The casualties were more in the BJP camp this time, only because four CPM activists had lost their lives between November and February. Those who have survived with injuries will prod on silently as dutiful cadres.

In his order, Justice Ramkumar has summed up the spectre of political violence rankling Kannur district: “Kannur is a place where manslaughter is a competing sport and party leaders very cunningly escape unhurt in this cruel and bloodthirsty game. All political parties seem to freely indulge in the cult of violence”. The judge’s order came in the murder case of Muhammed Fasal, who had deserted CPM and joined the National Development Front.

Both Chief Minister V S Achuthanandan and CPM state secretary Pinarayi Vijayan criticised the judgment saying the judge had strayed off the ambit of the case. However, those who know Kannur politics will agree that the judge was spot-on. For instance, the police could get hold of none who was involved in the butchering of seven lives as was the case in the past.

As the judge said, the police do book the “culprits” based on the list of suspects provided by the respective parties. Consequently, these “culprits” get away as there is no evidence to prove their involvement.

It is this unholy nexus between politics and crime that has always stoked the embers of the murder sport that had been going on for three decades now. Over 300 activists, mostly hailing from poor families, have become “martyrs” for either side in the eye-for-an-eye tooth-for-a-tooth killings. Most often, a spark is enough to revive old animosities and level the scores. Both the CPM and RSS have trained killer squads to execute the murders with chilling savagery.

CPM Central Committee member E P Jayarajan lives with a bullet lodged in his head pumped by his assailants on a running train at Nalgonda while he was returning from Delhi in 1994. P Jayarajan, the party MLA from Kuthuparamba in Kannur, had a miraculous second lease of life after RSS assailants attacked him on Onam in 1998. His severed limbs were joined together in a microsurgery at a Kochi hospital. Some of the prominent leaders who were brutally murdered in broad daylight are K V Sudheesh, leader of CPM’s students wing, the SFI, and BJP leaders Panniyannur Chandran and K T Jayakrishnan.

Though Kannur is the land of revolutionary struggles, a steady stream of desertions has rankled the Communist camp for long. Murders like that of Muhammed Fasal will always instill fear in those who want to switch loyalties.

What adds fuel to the fire are the provocative speeches of leaders. For instance, it was Achuthanandan himself who said in Thalassery in 1999 that P Jayarajan’s “attackers would be repaid with interest and compound interest”.

Not many expect the truce that was forged at an all-party meeting at Kannur on March 15 to remain sacrosanct.

That’s the kind of madness the beautiful countryside of Kannur and hundreds of mothers, wives and children — who lost their dear ones — don’t deserve.