Truths Untold: Revisiting the Kalinga War

The history of the Kalinga War is largely shaped by Ashoka’s edicts, documents carved in stone by the victor. The popular narrative portrays a remorseful emperor embracing Buddhism after witnessing the bloodshed. Yet, this version overlooks critical gaps: Who ruled Kalinga? Why is their resistance absent from records? The absence of Kalinga’s perspective raises a fundamental question: how much of history is crafted by those who win, and how much is lost in silence?

Historians have long relied on Ashoka’s inscriptions, but recent scholarship challenges this one-sided account. Sanjeev Sanyal, in The Ocean of Churn, disputes the war’s role in Ashoka’s conversion, pointing out that minor rock edicts confirm his Buddhist leanings predated the conflict. If true, Ashoka’s repentance becomes a later embellishment. Moreover, Sanyal suggests Kalinga may not have been an independent kingdom but a rebellious vassal, reframing the war as a suppression rather than a conquest. This shifts the narrative from a righteous emperor’s awakening to a strategic consolidation of power.

Archaeology further complicates the tale. The battle’s primary site may not be Dhauli, as commonly believed, but Yuddha Meruda, with Tosali as the final stand. Radhanagar’s fertile plains, flanked by hills, hint at a protracted struggle, yet Kalinga’s defiance remains nameless. Why? Because history, as the adage goes, is written by the victor. Ashoka’s edicts, while invaluable, are political instruments, designed to legitimise his rule and ideals. The vanquished rarely get to inscribe their version.

The Odisha Sahitya Akademi’s initiative to revisit this history in a workshop on the War is timely. A relook must go beyond the well-known stories and the available edicts and dig deeper into emerging archaeological findings. If Kalinga’s ruler was indeed a formidable adversary, their erasure from history is not just an omission but an injustice. The war’s legacy, whether as a turning point for Ashoka or a suppressed rebellion, demands scrutiny to recover the voices buried beneath his edicts. After all, history is not just the story we inherit; it’s the one we choose to interrogate.

The study of history is a continuous dialogue between evidence and interpretation. Just as the Rosetta Stone deciphered Egypt’s past and Heinrich Schliemann’s excavation of Troy blurred the line between myth and reality, new discoveries can upend long-held beliefs. The Kalinga War’s narrative, frozen in Ashoka’s edicts for centuries, now faces similar scrutiny. Colonial histories were once accepted as gospel until post-independence scholars rewrote them from marginalised perspectives. Even Ashoka’s famed "Dhamma," once celebrated as purely altruistic, is now examined for its strategic role in empire-building. Radhanagar’s excavations may yet reveal Kalinga’s untold defiance. The Akademi’s pursuit mirrors a universal truth: history, when questioned, corrects itself one revelation at a time.

 Smoke & Mirrors: The Elusive Truth in Modern Conflict

In the fog of war and the chaos of geopolitics, truth is often the first casualty. The recent India-Pakistan clashes during Operation Sindoor exemplify this grim reality; both nations have spun conflicting narratives, leaving the common citizen drowning in a sea of claims and counterclaims. India acknowledges losing a jet but insists it struck deep inside Pakistan, while Islamabad glorifies its military response, hinting at dominance. The US claims it mediated to end hostilities, but New Delhi asserts it was Pakistan that sought intervention. Amid this noise, where does the truth lie?

This phenomenon is not unique to the modern world. Modern warfare and international diplomacy thrive on perception management, where controlling the narrative is as crucial as battlefield tactics. Governments, militaries, and even independent observers selectively present facts, exaggerate victories, and downplay losses. The digital age amplifies this, with misinformation spreading faster than verified reports. Social media, partisan news outlets, and state propaganda machines ensure that every event is refracted through multiple lenses, each distorting reality to suit an agenda.

But why has truth become so expendable? Because in today’s conflicts, shaping public opinion is half the battle. A nation’s morale, international standing, and even strategic leverage depend on perceived strength rather than ground realities. Admitting failures erodes credibility, while inflated claims bolster domestic support. This is why armies spend precious time countering "fake narratives" instead of focusing solely on operations. The irony is that in trying to control the story, all sides end up obscuring it.

The problem extends beyond warfare. Political discourse in democracies and authoritarian regimes alike is now a theatre of half-truths and outright lies. The US, once seen as a beacon of free press, now grapples with deep polarisation, where facts are contested based on partisan allegiance. When even superpowers weaponise information, the average citizen stands little chance of discerning reality.

This erosion of objective truth mirrors the post-truth era, where emotions and beliefs override facts. Orwell’s "1984" warned of a world where power lies in controlling reality—"truth" becomes what the state repeats. Today, governments and media alike distort narratives, not through brute censorship but by flooding the zone with competing claims. The result? A populace so overwhelmed by noise that surrender, not scrutiny, becomes the default response.

So, where does this leave the common man? Trapped in an endless loop of scepticism, forced to navigate a landscape where every statement is suspect. In the absence of neutral arbiters and transparent institutions, truth remains buried under layers of spin. Until societies demand accountability over propaganda, the fog will only grow thicker, leaving us all groping in the dark for answers that may never come.

 Odisha’s Crime Surge: A Call for Urgent Reforms

The Odisha government’s recently released white paper on law and order presents a grim picture of rising crime, systemic inefficiencies, and emerging threats that demand immediate attention. While the decline in Maoist violence offers some relief, the alarming spike in general crimes, cyber offences, and financial fraud underscores deep-rooted challenges in policing and judicial accountability.

In 2024, the state crossed a disturbing milestone, registering over 2.14 lakh criminal cases—a sharp increase from the previous year. What is more concerning is the sluggish pace of justice. Despite charge sheets being filed in 1.39 lakh cases, conviction rates remain dismally low, particularly in heinous crimes. Take, for instance, the 1,285 murders reported last year—charge sheets were submitted in only 45% of these cases. Similarly, while 3,054 cases of atrocities (many involving women and marginalised communities) were registered, just 64% saw investigative progress. Such delays erode public trust and embolden criminals.

Cybercrime has emerged as a formidable challenge, with cases rising to 2,501 in 2024. Yet, the system appears ill-equipped to handle this digital deluge—only 11% of cyber cases resulted in charge sheets. Financial frauds have also grown more sophisticated, with scams worth ₹1,070 crore reported, including interstate and international rackets. While police recovered a fraction of the stolen amount and made arrests, the scale of these crimes suggests the need for specialised cyber cells and stronger inter-agency coordination.

On a positive note, Maoist violence has significantly declined, with only four incidents reported in 2024—a testament to improved counter-insurgency strategies. However, this success is overshadowed by newer threats, particularly the exploitation of children on social media. Disturbingly, cases of child sexual abuse material (CSAM) circulating online nearly doubled last year, with over 1,000 complaints filed. Many victims, driven to despair, have resorted to extreme steps, yet enforcement remains lax.

The white paper also highlights the state’s road safety crisis, with 12,375 accidents recorded, half of which saw delayed legal action. Meanwhile, police resorted to firing in 14 instances, indicating heightened law-and-order tensions.

While the document acknowledges achievements, it inadvertently exposes systemic gaps—poor conviction rates, sluggish investigations, and inadequate cyber policing. The government must prioritise modernising law enforcement, accelerating trials, and safeguarding vulnerable groups, especially women and children. Without urgent reforms, Odisha’s crime graph will continue its troubling ascent, leaving justice elusive for its citizens. The white paper should serve as a catalyst for action rather than just another report gathering dust. It's time for concrete measures—better resources for police, faster courts, and stronger victim protection—to turn these alarming statistics into a story of transformation.