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Numbed
with disgust and horror, I return from Gujarat ten days after the
terror and massacre that convulsed the state. My heart is
sickened, my soul wearied, my shoulders aching with the burdens of
guilt and shame. As you walk through the camps of riot
survivors in Ahmedabad, in which an estimated 53,000 women, men,
and children are huddled in 29 temporary settlements, displays of
overt grief are unusual. People clutch small bundles of relief
materials, all that they now own in the world, with dry and glassy
eyes. Some talk in low voices, others busy themselves with the
tasks of everyday living in these most basic of shelters, looking
for food and milk for children, tending the wounds of the injured.
But once you sit anywhere in these camps, people begin to speak
and their words are like masses of pus released by slitting large
festering wounds. The horrors that they speak of are so macabre,
that my pen falters in the writing. The pitiless brutality against
women and small children by organized bands of armed young men is
more savage than anything witnessed in the riots that have shamed
this nation from time to time during the past century. I
force myself to write a small fraction of all that I heard and
saw, because it is important that we all know. Or maybe also
because I need to share my own burdens. What can you say about a
woman eight months pregnant who begged to be spared. Her
assailants instead slit open her stomach, pulled out her foetus
and slaughtered it before her eyes. What can you say about a
family of nineteen being killed by flooding their house with water
and then electrocuting them with high-tension electricity.
What
can you say? A small boy of six in Juhapara camp described
how his mother and six brothers and sisters were battered to death
before his eyes. He survived only because he fell unconscious, and
was taken for dead. A family escaping from Naroda-Patiya, one of
the worst-hit settlements in Ahmedabad, spoke of losing a young
woman and her three month old son, because a police constable
directed her to `safety' and she found herself instead surrounded
by a mob which doused her with kerosene and set her and her baby
on fire. I have never known a riot which has used the sexual
subjugation of women so widely as an instrument of violence in the
recent mass barbarity in Gujarat. There are reports every where of
gang-rape, of young girls and women, often in the presence
of members of their families, followed by their murder by burning
alive, or by bludgeoning with a hammer and in one case with a
screw driver.
Women in Aman Chowk shelter told appalling
stories about how armed men disrobed themselves in front of a
group of terrified women to cower them down further. In
Ahmedabad, most people I met - social workers, journalists,
survivors - agree that what Gujarat witnessed was not a riot, but
a terrorist attack followed by a systematic, planned massacre, a
pogrom. Everyone spoke of the pillage and plunder, being organized
like a military operation against an external armed enemy. An
initial truck would arrive broadcasting inflammatory slogans, soon
followed by more trucks which disgorged young men, mostly in khaki
shorts and saffron sashes. They were armed with sophisticated
explosive materials, country weapons, daggers and trishuls. They
also carried water bottles, to sustain them in their exertions.
The leaders were seen communicating on mobile telephones from the
riot venues, receiving instructions from and reporting back to a
coordinating centre. Some were seen with documents and computer
sheets listing Muslim families and their properties. They had
detailed precise knowledge about buildings and businesses held by
members of the minority community, such as who were partners, say,
in a restaurant business, or which Muslim homes had Hindu spouses who should be spared in the violence. This was not a
spontaneous upsurge of mass anger. It was a carefully planned
pogrom.
The
trucks carried quantities of gas cylinders. Rich Muslim homes and
business establishments were first systematically looted, stripped
down of all their valuables, then cooking gas was released from
cylinders into the buildings for several minutes. A trained member
of the group then lit the flame which efficiently engulfed the
building. In some cases, acetylene gas which is used for welding
steel, was employed to explode large concrete buildings. Mosques
and dargahs were razed, and were replaced by statues of Hanuman
and saffron flags. Some dargahs in Ahmedabad city crossings have
overnight been demolished and their sites covered with road
building material, and bulldozed so efficiently that these spots
are indistinguishable from the rest of the road. Traffic now plies
over these former dargahs, as though they never existed.
The
unconscionable failures and active connivance of the state police
and administrative machinery is also now widely acknowledged. The
police is known to have misguided people straight into the hands
of rioting mobs. They provided protective shields to crowds bent
on pillage, arson, rape and murder, and were deaf to the pleas of
the desperate Muslim victims, many of them women and children.
There have been many reports of police firing directly mostly at
the minority community, which was the target of most of the mob
violence. The large majority of arrests are also from the same
community which was the main victim of the pogrom.
As
one who has served in the Indian Administrative Service for over
two decades, I feel great shame at the abdication of duty of my
peers in the civil and police administration. The law did not
require any of them to await orders from their political supervisors
before they organized the decisive use of force to
prevent the brutal escalation of violence, and to protect
vulnerable women and children from the organized, murderous mobs.
The law instead required them to act independently, fearlessly,
impartially, decisively, with courage and compassion. If even one
official had so acted in Ahmedabad, she or he could have deployed
the police forces and called in the army to halt the violence and
protect the people in a matter of hours. No riot can continue
beyond a few hours without the active connivance of the local
police and magistracy. The blood of hundreds of innocents are on
the hands of the police and civil authorities of Gujarat, and by
sharing in a conspiracy of silence, on the entire higher
bureaucracy of the country. I have heard senior officials
blame also the communalism of the police constabulary for their
connivance in the violence. This too is a thin and disgraceful
alibi. The same forces have been known to act with impartiality
and courage when led by officers of professionalism and integrity.
The failure is clearly of the leadership of the police and civil
services, not of the subordinate men and women in khaki who are
trained to obey their orders.
Where also, amidst this savagery,
injustice, and human suffering is the `civil society', the
Gandhians, the development workers, the NGOs, the fabled
spontaneous Gujarati philanthropy which was so much in evidence
in the earthquake in Kutch and Ahmedabad? The newspapers reported
that at the peak of the pogrom, the gates of Sabarmati Ashram were
closed to protect its properties, it should instead have been the
city's major sanctuary. Which Gandhian leaders, or NGO managers,
staked their lives to halt the death-dealing throngs? It is one
more shame that we as citizens of this country must carry on our
already burdened backs, that the camps for the Muslim riot victims
in Ahmedabad are being run almost exclusively by Muslim organizations. It is as though the monumental pain, loss, betrayal
and injustice suffered by the Muslim people is the concern only of
other Muslim people, and the rest of us have no share in the
responsibility to assuage, to heal and rebuild. The state, which
bears the primary responsibility to extend both protection and
relief to its vulnerable citizens, was nowhere in evidence in any
of the camps, to manage, organize the security, or even to provide
the resources that are required to feed the tens of thousands of defenseless
women, men and children huddled in these camps for
safety.
The only passing moments of pride and hope that I experienced in
Gujarat, were when I saw men like Mujid Ahmed and women like
Roshan Bahen who served in these camps with tireless, dogged
humanism amidst the ruins around them. In the Aman Chowk camp,
women blessed the young band of volunteers who worked from four in
the morning until after midnight to ensure that none of their
children went without food or milk, or that their wounds remained
untended. Their leader Mujid Ahmed is a graduate, his small
chemical dyes factory has been burnt down, but he has had no time
to worry about his own loss. Each day he has to find 1600
kilograms of food grain to feed some 5000 people who have taken
shelter in the camp. The challenge is even greater for Roshan
Bahen, almost 60, who wipes her eyes each time she hears the
stories of horror by the residents in Juhupara camp. But she too
has no time for the luxuries of grief or anger. She barely sleeps,
as her volunteers, mainly working class Muslim women and men from
the humble tenements around the camp, provide temporary toilets,
food and solace to the hundreds who have gathered in the grounds
of a primary school to escape the ferocity of merciless mobs.
As I
walked through the camps, I wondered what Gandhiji would have done
in these dark hours. I recall the story of the Calcutta riots,
when Gandhi was fasting for peace. A Hindu man came to him, to
speak of his young boy who had been killed by Muslim mobs, and of
the depth of his anger and longing for revenge. And Gandhi is said
to have replied: If you really wish to overcome your pain, find a
young boy, just as young as your son, a Muslim boy whose parents
have been killed by Hindu mobs. Bring up that boy like you would
your own son, but bring him up with the Muslim faith to which he
was born. Only then will you find that you can heal your pain,
your anger, and your longing for retribution.
There are no voices like Gandhi's that we hear today. Only
discourses on Newtonian physics, to justify vengeance on
innocents. We need to find these voices within our own hearts, we
need to believe enough in justice, love, tolerance. There is much
that the murdering mobs in Gujarat have robbed from me. One of
them is a song I often sang with pride and conviction. The words
of the song are:
Sare jahan se achha Hindustan hamara.
It is a song I will
never be able to sing again.
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