MORE than a year after the Gujarat massacre, The Guardian correspondent in Delhi, Luke Harding, wrote a moving piece about how his “love affair with India” had ended. Harding could walk away to another country, another assignment. Sensitive Indians, such as Harsh Mander, have to confront the colossal tragedy day after day. And how does one even describe what happened in Gujarat in February 2002? Massacre? Carnage? Genocide? Pogrom? Regrettably, many western journalists have described the Gujarat events as Hindu-Muslim ‘riots’. Riots, however, indicate a conflict with two sides; in the case of Gujarat the Muslims were only at the receiving end.
Harsh Mander’s account was the first coming out of Gujarat that brought attention to the level of brutality inflicted on Muslims, particularly women and children. A former civil servant, Mander is obviously pained by the blatant denial of justice and protection to the vulnerable that has apparently become the norm for those who administer Gujarat. Very few come out of the Gujarat massacre without being a collaborator, either by abetting actively or passively through an unwillingness to get involved.
The writer is particularly critical of the indifference of many non-governmental organizations in Gujarat that are, otherwise, so active in bringing about social change — among them being the much celebrated SEWA (Self-employed Women’s Association). Gujarat also failed to get the kind of western media attention that genocides in other places (Srebenica, for example) have received. Nor did the victims get assistance from rich Muslim countries.
Succour for the survivors came mostly from outside the state and from within the country. Mander writes movingly about the Aman Pathiks (the peace workers), the several hundred young people who volunteered to work for rehabilitation of the victims and heal some of the wounds inflicted by communal frenzy. Many came from other states, aware that the Gujarat government itself was not lifting a finger to provide any kind of relief to the thousands who were brutalized and rendered homeless, huddled together in dargahs or in camps set up by Muslim charities. Among the volunteers were Saddam Badshah and his team of auto-rickshaw drivers from Andhra Pradesh.
However, more than two years later the reconciliation and acceptance of Muslims into their old neighbourhoods seems distant. On a recent visit to Delhi, a young activist working in Gujarat told me how a village headman had threatened her when she suggested he facilitate the return of Muslim families to their homes. Another volunteer spoke of the resilience of the survivors — their ability to reconstruct their lives in the midst of all the horrors they experienced, even managing to laugh off some of the threats hurled at them. The only silver lining is that the young volunteers refuse to be discouraged or intimidated and carry on courageously.
Several eminent citizens’ groups from India — from judges to journalists — have done commendable work in recording the atrocities of Gujarat. Cry, My Beloved Country records their reports of eye-witness accounts. The narratives of children, innocent witnesses to the rape and burning of their mothers and sisters, makes reading most disturbing. Then there are mothers’ heart-wrenching accounts of how their children were tortured to death before their eyes. Quoting from the report of the Concerned Citizens’ Tribunal (CCT), Mander describes a macabre incident:
“The burning alive of victims was widespread. A particularly tragic incident was one in which six-year-old Irfan asked for water, his assailants at Naroda Patiya made him forcibly drink kerosene, or some other inflammable liquid, before a lit match was thrown inside his gullet to make him explode within. (CCT: 2002: 6)”
Other fact-finding missions strongly indicted the state government for its role in the pogrom and its indifference later. The Independent Fact Finding Mission noted:
“Certain crucial aspects of the carrying out of the pogrom required systematic planning well in advance of the Godhra incident. The lists the rioters possessed and used must have been compiled over time. The targeting of Muslim homes, institutions, establishments and shrines was very precise and accurate. Even when there was one Muslim home or shop in a congested Hindu-dominated area, it was attacked, ransacked and burnt.”
The evidence seems to imply that Godhra was staged to instigate the anti-Muslim pogrom. To add salt to the survivors’ wounds, the Gujarat chief minister, Narender Modi, returned to power with an even bigger majority. The prime minister himself, shortly after the tragedy, blamed the Muslims at a party meeting in Goa. What is missing from Harsh Mander’s otherwise thorough account of events, is an analysis of the reasons why such bestialities took place in Gujarat — a relatively prosperous and educated state and home to several social movements. While he has discussed the dangers of the politicization of religion, the arguments do not fully explain the level of hatred and barbarism. This, however, does not detract from Mander’s honest chronicle.
In the final analysis, the rise of Hindu fundamentalism and, consequently, the events of Gujarat are also failings of the liberals of secular India. They did not, ultimately, challenge the monster when it was beginning to raise its head in national politics. Some, in fact, were quick to board the BJP bandwagon on its yatra of communalism. They must share the burden of guilt as long as justice is denied to the victims of Gujarat. For somewhere the men, who ripped open the womb of a pregnant woman and slaughtered her foetus, are walking free.
Cry, My Beloved Country: Reflections on the Gujarat Carnage
By Harsh Mander
Rainbow Publishers, New Delhi Available with Indus Publications, 25 Fareed Chambers, Abdullah Haroon Road, Karachi