| December 21, 2002 - January 3, 2003 Frontline Volume:19 Issue:26 BOOKS NAUNIDHI KAUR
Gujarat: The Making of a Tragedy edited by Siddharth Varadarajan; Penguin Books India, New Delhi, 2002; pages 459, Rs.295.
THE complicity of state actors in violence inevitably leads to two kinds of literature on all riots. The first is the official account, in which the nature of the violence is reported to be sporadic and the count of dead is lower than that in most unofficial accounts. The role of the state actors in supporting the riots is either overlooked or taken up in a cursory manner. Such accounts are commonly found in official inquiries. The lack of adequate government documentation leads to the creation of a second set of literature on riots - unofficial investigations, which look into direct and indirect violations by government institutions during the days of violence. In the case of the Gujarat riots where the issue is of the massacre of a minority community, the implications of the second set of literature assume vital proportions. The Gujarat riots raise questions that trouble sociologists, anthropologists and political theorists. The volume under review belongs to the second set of literature. It is a compilation of published and unpublished articles by journalists, anthropologists and members of civil networks that are active in Gujarat and elsewhere. It is obvious that the contributors and the editor of the volume have set themselves to the task of recording the horrors of the post-Godhra riots lest they should remain ignored in official records and inquiries. The volume has three sections - the violence, its aftermath, and essays and analyses. The articles are based on both original and secondary sources, including the writings of scholars, the reports of official and unofficial commissions of inquiry, newspaper columns and magazine articles, and personal research. All these in one form or the other have been arranged and structured according to categories and formats consciously or unconsciously employed by the authors. The section on violence is a detailed and rounded documentation of what `exactly' happened during the riots. The pattern that the seven chapters share is in interpretive reading of news and other reports published by organisations such as the People's Union of Civil Liberties. This section gives details of the riots - their duration and phases, the identity of the participants and victims, the nature of the violence, the extent to which they were planned, and the actions of State government officials. Some of these topics are comprehensively dealt with by anthropologist Nandini Sunder in her article on the pattern of the violence. The chapter goes into the aspects of police collusion, hate mobilisation and the demography of the violence. In subsequent chapters, some of these topics have been touched upon by other contributors. A very interesting point often cited, but not elaborated on by Nandini Sunder or any of the other writers, is the role of non-participants in the riots. Nandini Sunder writes that in areas where the riots did not take place, BJP activists sent boxes of bangles to its local party leaders. Although it helped to activate non-participants to join the rioting in some places, at others it did not achieve its objective. So how can the silence of the non-participants be interpreted in Gujarat? Was their silence an approval or a disapproval of the riots? This question is especially relevant in the case of Gujarat where riots followed one another in waves, with some localities reporting a few days of violence followed by peace and then riots. Also of interest is the chapter `Adivasis and Dalits', written by the Director of the Tribal Academy in Gujarat, Ganesh N. Devy. It examines the persecution of Muslims in the tribal areas of Gujarat and questions how much of it was a measure of the BJP's success. The answer lies in the financial incentives and the local political issues that were used to instigate Adivasis to participate in the rioting, more than their belief in Hinduism as a religion, says Devy. In the chapter on the role of the media in the riots Siddharth Varadarajan makes an interesting point. He highlights the need to identify the victims of riots by their religion, as "Hindus" and "Muslims", in news reports so that it can be seen which community is being targeted. At the same time, he emphasises that "care should be used to describe the identity of the attackers in news reports". He rightly asks: "By what logic can a politically instigated mob that enjoys the tacit backing of the State law enforcement machinery be labelled as a `Hindu mob'?" In the same section, Rajdeep Sardesai, who extensively covered the 1992-93 Mumbai riots, takes on the Gujarat government's charges against the media and says that the media did not ransack shops or participate in the rioting in Gujarat. Legal researcher Vrinda Grover shifts the focus to the First Information Reports (FIR) filed during the riots. She exposes how the law-enforcers not only tacitly supported the riots by `looking away' but also ensured the dismissal of riot-related cases at the trial stage by recording inexact FIRs. She has collected details of omnibus FIRs registered by the Gujarat police, where instead of registering separate FIRs, the police recorded a single FIR for several cases. In others, they have deliberately omitted the names of the accused persons. Yet another common feature in the FIRs is that they are prefaced by a detailed account of the burning of the Sabarmati Express at Godhra. The importance of this volume is that it has accomplished the task of bringing across eyewitnesses who have compiled reports on the riots. Where news reports have been used, their texts have been supplemented by interpretive analysis. In the entire book, the emphasis is on recording events as they took place. In doing this an attempt has been made to place the tragedy of Gujarat beyond the personal, and in a wider explanatory framework. There is a need for as many such accounts as possible, not only to help understand Gujarat better, but also to address the challenge of curbing communal riots in India.
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21 December 2002
State actors in a pogrom
18 December 2002
Beyond the Ballot: The issue in Gujarat is Justice
18 December 2002
The Times of India
Moral philosophers may shake their heads in bewilderment but future historians looking back at the spectacular victory recorded by the Bharatiya Janata Party in the Gujarat elections of 2002 will see striking parallels between the triumph of Narendra Modi and the manner in which the Congress under Rajiv Gandhi swept the polls in December 1984.
In both cases, the victorious party won decisively despite being accused of allowing, or even instigating, the massacre of innocent citizens. In 1984, the victims were Sikhs, in 2002, Muslims. In both cases, nearly 40 per cent of the electorate decided to abstain. Of the remaining 60 per cent, half evidently did not see the taint of complicity as a disqualification. They either decided to vote on the basis of other factors, did not know the full facts, went into denial, or — as in Panchmahals, Dahod and Vadodara districts, where the BJP won every riot-hit seat — got overwhelmed by the high-decibel communal propaganda.
In 1984, the Congress dismissed the mass killing of Sikhs as a regrettable "public reaction" to the assassination of Indira Gandhi and then fought a campaign in which her martyrdom and the pro-mise of saving the country from the menace of "Sikh extremism" were strong components. Taking a leaf out of this strategy, Mr Modi and the BJP played down the carnage that followed Godhra as "unfortunate" and built their election strategy around the spurious slogan of saving Gujarat from "Islamic terrorism".
Before the assassination of Indira Gandhi and before Godhra, the Congress nationally and the BJP in Gujarat had hit rock bottom in political terms. Staring defeat in the face and with no real accomplishments to point to, the ruling party in each situation was forced to divert the attention of voters with violence. In a perverse way, that violence was then marketed as an accomplishment, a sign that the ruling party could be counted upon to teach the supposed 'enemies' of the nation 'a lesson they would never forget'. But if 1984 saw subtle appeals by the Congress to a 'Hindu' identity that was still in the process of being created, the BJP-VHP appeals to religion were more direct. In both cases, however, an attempt was made to legitimise the mass-acres by turning the public at large into accomplices — and to close, through the ballot box, a chapter that belonged not to the realm of politics but to that of law and justice.
Morally and legally speaking, however, a dramatic election victory cannot imbue a crime with legitimacy. According to the Indian theory of kingship, a ruler has legitimacy only when he provides security to his people. And without dharma and justice, there can be no security. Just as 415 seats in the Lok Sabha could not cleanse the stain of 1984 from the Congress, the Gujarat violence is destined to become a part of the BJP's past that will not pass.
As on election eve, the biggest question confronting India today is not the sterile debate over 'Hindutva' and 'secularism' but the future of the rule of law. The fate of our democracy revolves around whether those responsible for the violence in Gujarat — from the perpetrators of the Godhra train attack on kar sevaks to those who killed more than 1,000 Muslims across the state — get away scot-free or are punished regardless of their official rank or political affiliation.
In any democracy, it is a frightening thought that a whole coachload of train passengers can be set alight and that 1,000 people can be eliminated in a matter of 72 hours without the law coming down heavily on the perpetrators. How can any civilised society tolerate such anarchy? 'Justice to all, appeasement to none' is what Mr Modi said he stands for. Why is it, then, that his administration has done nothing but appease those among his political supporters who put Gujarat to the torch?
Many would argue that Mr Modi is not bothered about punishing the guilty for obvious reasons. But from the experience of Maharashtra — where the Srikrishna Commission recommendations on the Mumbai riots of 1992-93 remain unimplemented — and the way the Congress ran its campaign in Gujarat, it was clear that a Congress-led government in Gandhinagar would have also swept the issue of justice under the carpet.
It is a bitter lesson but the victims of Gujarat are realising today what the victims of 1984 realised some years ago: In India, if you are a victim of mass violence, votes will be sought in your name and any number of inquiry commissions set up. But justice will never be done and you will never be compensated or rehabilitated. Just ask the Kashmiri Pandit refugees still living in squalid camps in Jammu 12 years after fleeing their homes.
Today, BJP supporters will be jubilant at Mr Modi's victory and Congress supporters despondent. But from the point of view of the victims, the struggle for justice and rehabilitation was always an uphill one anyway and that struggle needs the widest possible support. We need to ask ourselves whether we want to live in a society where the police can turn against the victims of violence, and killers capable of the most heinous crimes are free to roam the streets.
Whether we support the BJP, Congress or any other party, this is a question we all have to answer.
The Times of India
Beyond the Ballot
The Issue in Gujarat is Justice
SIDDHARTH VARADARAJAN
The Issue in Gujarat is Justice
SIDDHARTH VARADARAJAN
Moral philosophers may shake their heads in bewilderment but future historians looking back at the spectacular victory recorded by the Bharatiya Janata Party in the Gujarat elections of 2002 will see striking parallels between the triumph of Narendra Modi and the manner in which the Congress under Rajiv Gandhi swept the polls in December 1984.
In both cases, the victorious party won decisively despite being accused of allowing, or even instigating, the massacre of innocent citizens. In 1984, the victims were Sikhs, in 2002, Muslims. In both cases, nearly 40 per cent of the electorate decided to abstain. Of the remaining 60 per cent, half evidently did not see the taint of complicity as a disqualification. They either decided to vote on the basis of other factors, did not know the full facts, went into denial, or — as in Panchmahals, Dahod and Vadodara districts, where the BJP won every riot-hit seat — got overwhelmed by the high-decibel communal propaganda.
In 1984, the Congress dismissed the mass killing of Sikhs as a regrettable "public reaction" to the assassination of Indira Gandhi and then fought a campaign in which her martyrdom and the pro-mise of saving the country from the menace of "Sikh extremism" were strong components. Taking a leaf out of this strategy, Mr Modi and the BJP played down the carnage that followed Godhra as "unfortunate" and built their election strategy around the spurious slogan of saving Gujarat from "Islamic terrorism".
Before the assassination of Indira Gandhi and before Godhra, the Congress nationally and the BJP in Gujarat had hit rock bottom in political terms. Staring defeat in the face and with no real accomplishments to point to, the ruling party in each situation was forced to divert the attention of voters with violence. In a perverse way, that violence was then marketed as an accomplishment, a sign that the ruling party could be counted upon to teach the supposed 'enemies' of the nation 'a lesson they would never forget'. But if 1984 saw subtle appeals by the Congress to a 'Hindu' identity that was still in the process of being created, the BJP-VHP appeals to religion were more direct. In both cases, however, an attempt was made to legitimise the mass-acres by turning the public at large into accomplices — and to close, through the ballot box, a chapter that belonged not to the realm of politics but to that of law and justice.
Morally and legally speaking, however, a dramatic election victory cannot imbue a crime with legitimacy. According to the Indian theory of kingship, a ruler has legitimacy only when he provides security to his people. And without dharma and justice, there can be no security. Just as 415 seats in the Lok Sabha could not cleanse the stain of 1984 from the Congress, the Gujarat violence is destined to become a part of the BJP's past that will not pass.
As on election eve, the biggest question confronting India today is not the sterile debate over 'Hindutva' and 'secularism' but the future of the rule of law. The fate of our democracy revolves around whether those responsible for the violence in Gujarat — from the perpetrators of the Godhra train attack on kar sevaks to those who killed more than 1,000 Muslims across the state — get away scot-free or are punished regardless of their official rank or political affiliation.
In any democracy, it is a frightening thought that a whole coachload of train passengers can be set alight and that 1,000 people can be eliminated in a matter of 72 hours without the law coming down heavily on the perpetrators. How can any civilised society tolerate such anarchy? 'Justice to all, appeasement to none' is what Mr Modi said he stands for. Why is it, then, that his administration has done nothing but appease those among his political supporters who put Gujarat to the torch?
Many would argue that Mr Modi is not bothered about punishing the guilty for obvious reasons. But from the experience of Maharashtra — where the Srikrishna Commission recommendations on the Mumbai riots of 1992-93 remain unimplemented — and the way the Congress ran its campaign in Gujarat, it was clear that a Congress-led government in Gandhinagar would have also swept the issue of justice under the carpet.
It is a bitter lesson but the victims of Gujarat are realising today what the victims of 1984 realised some years ago: In India, if you are a victim of mass violence, votes will be sought in your name and any number of inquiry commissions set up. But justice will never be done and you will never be compensated or rehabilitated. Just ask the Kashmiri Pandit refugees still living in squalid camps in Jammu 12 years after fleeing their homes.
Today, BJP supporters will be jubilant at Mr Modi's victory and Congress supporters despondent. But from the point of view of the victims, the struggle for justice and rehabilitation was always an uphill one anyway and that struggle needs the widest possible support. We need to ask ourselves whether we want to live in a society where the police can turn against the victims of violence, and killers capable of the most heinous crimes are free to roam the streets.
Whether we support the BJP, Congress or any other party, this is a question we all have to answer.
07 December 2002
Times of India review of Gujarat: The Making of a Tragedy, (Ed.) Siddharth Varadarajan
December 7, 2002
The Times of India
Best Reads
Reviewed by Vrinda Nabar
GUJARAT: THE MAKING OF A TRAGEDY
Editor: Siddharth Varadarajan
Publisher: Penguin India
Rating: ****
The book is a collection of articles in three parts ('The Violence', 'The Aftermath', and 'Essays and Analyses') that add up to a numbing dissection of the Gujarat experience.
The single common detail emerging from the whole is that no easy answers can explain what triggered off Godhra, that it was a complex act which shames India's claim to be a secular democracy. As Siddharth Varadarajan says in his excellent and well-researched introduction, 'Chronicle of a tragedy foretold': "For the sake of its soul as a nation, India must reject this corrosive notion of morality which sees in the condemnation of the Gujarat pogrom the diminution of the suffering of the victims of the Godhra carnage, or of other victims of other tragedies."
Recounting the events leading to Godhra, Jyoti Punwani asks a series of troubling questions about the failure of the system as a whole. Her moving account of those who lost their dear ones in 'The carnage at Godhra' is given an added dimension by Nandini Sundar's 'A license to kill' and Teesta Setalvad's 'When guardians betray', both of which expose the collusion of the State administration and the police.
'Nothing new?' takes off on George Fernandes's infamous defence of gender abuse by referring to the events of 1984, and contains contributions by seasoned mediapersons like Barkha Dutt, the evidence of eyewitnesses and the findings of independent teams that visited Gujarat. The horror of this section finds a chilling match in 'Narratives from the killing fields', which also draws on the studies of various citizens groups.
It becomes clear from the other parts of this collection that there has been little significant effort at relief and rehabilitation, that ghettoisation has accelerated, and that February 27 was a turning point in the fragile pluralism of post-Independence India. The last section of the book, which contains brief responses from intellectuals, reaffirms another, liberal tradition that rabid fulminators, our upcoming self-styled nationalists, appear to have erased from memory.
Over the past few months, the Gujarat nightmare has dominated the national consciousness, dividing people along seemingly impenetrable lines. As the debate goes on and the rhetoric of jingoism dogs the forthcoming elections in that State, we are, sadly, no nearer to understanding the tragedy of Godhra and after. This is a disturbing book that I would recommend to every concerned Indian who wishes to ensure that history won't repeat itself.
The Times of India
Best Reads
Reviewed by Vrinda Nabar
GUJARAT: THE MAKING OF A TRAGEDY
Editor: Siddharth Varadarajan
Publisher: Penguin India
Rating: ****
The book is a collection of articles in three parts ('The Violence', 'The Aftermath', and 'Essays and Analyses') that add up to a numbing dissection of the Gujarat experience.
The single common detail emerging from the whole is that no easy answers can explain what triggered off Godhra, that it was a complex act which shames India's claim to be a secular democracy. As Siddharth Varadarajan says in his excellent and well-researched introduction, 'Chronicle of a tragedy foretold': "For the sake of its soul as a nation, India must reject this corrosive notion of morality which sees in the condemnation of the Gujarat pogrom the diminution of the suffering of the victims of the Godhra carnage, or of other victims of other tragedies."
Recounting the events leading to Godhra, Jyoti Punwani asks a series of troubling questions about the failure of the system as a whole. Her moving account of those who lost their dear ones in 'The carnage at Godhra' is given an added dimension by Nandini Sundar's 'A license to kill' and Teesta Setalvad's 'When guardians betray', both of which expose the collusion of the State administration and the police.
'Nothing new?' takes off on George Fernandes's infamous defence of gender abuse by referring to the events of 1984, and contains contributions by seasoned mediapersons like Barkha Dutt, the evidence of eyewitnesses and the findings of independent teams that visited Gujarat. The horror of this section finds a chilling match in 'Narratives from the killing fields', which also draws on the studies of various citizens groups.
It becomes clear from the other parts of this collection that there has been little significant effort at relief and rehabilitation, that ghettoisation has accelerated, and that February 27 was a turning point in the fragile pluralism of post-Independence India. The last section of the book, which contains brief responses from intellectuals, reaffirms another, liberal tradition that rabid fulminators, our upcoming self-styled nationalists, appear to have erased from memory.
Over the past few months, the Gujarat nightmare has dominated the national consciousness, dividing people along seemingly impenetrable lines. As the debate goes on and the rhetoric of jingoism dogs the forthcoming elections in that State, we are, sadly, no nearer to understanding the tragedy of Godhra and after. This is a disturbing book that I would recommend to every concerned Indian who wishes to ensure that history won't repeat itself.
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