The Webster’s dictionary defines a pogrom as “organized
persecution and massacre, often officially prompted, of a minority group”,
a definition that is quite appropriate to what has been happening in
Gujarat for more than two months after the gruesome attack on the
passengers of the Sabarmati express in Godra. Three aspects of the pogrom
should give cause for great concern.
The first is the direct and
unabashed collusion of the state. This manifested itself in many ways.
Foremost among these is the lack of action on the part of the state,
especially through the police apparatus, despite widespread knowledge of
the Godra attack and warnings of mobilization by Hindu communalist groups.
It is not as though the police was incapable of stopping offenders. In
those towns and cities where there have been determined and committed
police officers, the situation has been relatively, if not totally, calm.
Examples are places like Bhavnagar and, in the neighbouring state of
Rajasthan, Ajmer. (For his troubles, the superintendent of police of
Bhavnagar was promptly transferred to a different posting.) Then there is
the active encouragement of violence by the Gujarat chief minister,
Narendra Modi, through pronouncements like “every action has an equal and
opposite reaction” as well as by other members of his administration. And,
finally, there is the role of the central government in not even
censuring, let alone dismissing, the state government, and coming to its
defence in various ways.
The second feature of the pogrom is the
involvement of new sections of society, such as dalits (former
untouchables) and tribals, and the attacks on Muslims in rural areas. The
participation of the tribals and dalits is particularly disturbing given
the discrimination they themselves face at the hands of higher caste
Hindus. It also points to the inroads that various Hindu communalist
groups, in particular the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) and the Bajrang Dal,
have made into regions where they were so far weak or absent. Although not
all areas of Gujarat that are inhabited by these castes/communities were
affected, the extent of the spread suffices to posit a gloomy prognosis of
the future. In those areas where the level of violence did not match the
death and mayhem witnessed elsewhere in the state, leaders apparently sent
bangles (choorian) to taunt the local Hindu communalist groups. One can
expect these groups to be doubly active from now on in collecting forces
for their deadly cause. Economic pressures also played a part; many of the
attacks led to the seizure of fertile lands or other commodities. These,
again, are likely to accelerate causing greater impetus for future bouts
of rural violence. Unlike in the cities, it is much harder for the police
to act effectively in rural settings. The third feature that needs to
be highlighted is the brazen looting that went on in cities, mostly
specifically targeted at Muslim-owned shops. This was not by lumpen
elements but by the middle classes with their fancy cars and their use of
mobile phones to call their friends and family to join in the looting.
Middle class sympathy and support for the BJP is not new; what is novel is
the open flaunting of their prejudices, even as TV crews transmitted their
actions around the country.
While communal violence has been a
constant occurrence India, or indeed in other South Asian countries, the
cruelty displayed in Gujarat compares well only with the riots that took
place during Partition in 1947. But there are important differences, over
and above the fact that the scale of Partition vastly outstrips the events
of Gujarat. In 1947, all communities did their share of attacking and all
of them had their share of victims. It was not one-sided and thus makes
the atrocities perpetrated a tiny bit more understandable. The second
difference is that there was hope in 1947. Even Faiz Ahmed Faiz concluded
his famed Subh-e-azaadi (yeh daag daag ujhala...) with chale-chalo ke vo
manzil abhi nahin ai. Movement towards a better future seemed possible.
The two countries were newly formed and the victims of Partition could
aspire to lives where such violence would not be perpetrated again. Today,
the people of Gujarat – or for that matter the rest of South Asia – do not
have that luxury. The intervening half-century has not been
kind.
The events in Gujarat itself must be seen in the backdrop of
the remarkable growth of religious sectarian groups in a large part of the
world over the last ten or twenty years. This ranges from the much
discussed Islamic fundamentalists all the way from the North Africa and
the Middle East to the Philippines, to the growth of the Christian
rightwing in the United States and even the role of the Buddhist clergy in
countries like Sri Lanka. For the most part each of these groups draws
sustenance from the presence and activities of the others. And by pointing
to the others, they manage to attract people to their own odious
programmes. Trying to apportion blame among them is futile; it is a
classic chicken-and-egg problem. The only way of dealing with this
situation is to combat communalism and the politics of hate within each of
our societies while extending solidarity to others engaged in similar
battles elsewhere. Though such struggles have not always been successful,
they are far too important and cannot be abandoned. In their success lies
our only hope.
