Gujarat: `Laboratory of hate´*

The events of “Gujarat 2002″, in which up to 2,000 Muslims died (1 ), are widely known, but less is heard about those displaced. Gauhar Raza of the NGO Anhad says: “The Gujarat government… not only disbanded the relief camps but also adopted an active policy of discrimination towards the families that were displaced” (2 ).

Sophia Khan, who founded the NGO Safar, told me that, just among women, more than 150,000 are still displaced. Why Gujarat? It is mercantile, prosperous, with a history of immigration (Turks, Portuguese, Marathas) and emigration (Africa, the UK and beyond). Muslim invaders came in the early 11th century. From 1407, the Gujarat Sultanate (which broke free from rule by Delhi) synthesised Muslim and Hindu traditions in its architecture – the tomb and mosque complex of Dada Hari in Ahmedabad is an amazing mix of styles.

Ahmedabad is the city of Mahatma Gandhi, the place where he started the Salt March in 1930, a protest walk through southern Gujarat to gather salt from the sea in defiance of the British monopoly. But Gujarat remained inward-looking and parochial. Father Cedric Prakash, a Jesuit peace activist, thinks “Gandhi and the founding fathers prevented India from becoming a Hindu nation. And the [Hindu nationalist umbrella organisation] Sangh Parivar killed him. From then on they worked systematically to establish Hindutva in Gujarat, using the Dalits and Adivarsis [tribals]” – both were forced or bribed to take part in the 2002 carnage. There have been regular riots since the 1980s.

Ahmedabad, Gujarat’s largest city, with a population of four-and-a-half million, is booming: Narendra Modi, the chief minister, has attracted Tata Motors’ Nano car plant and the city is full of construction work. But behind the economic success lies a damaged society. The long-established living arrangements between Hindus and Muslims have been ruptured. The fear is that this is beginning to happen elsewhere in India.

The modern Pir Mohammed Shah hospital is run by the Iqraa foundation and funded entirely by private donations. It is in the Muslim area of Juhapura to the west of the city; this grew from 2002, as Muslims fled here to find safety in numbers, to become the largest ghetto, housing 350,000 and swallowing up the outlying village of Sarkhej. The hospital’s administrator, Imtiyaz Shaikh, said: “We started up in 2002 because people needed medical facilities here, locally, for security. It is free and open to poor patients of any religion.”
Iqbal Baig, 35, works for the secular NGO Samerth: “We started in 2002 with relief work and looked after women and children, then we moved into job training and education. Now we’re into reconciliation. We’re not 100% successful but we’re doing our level best. We’re doing it through pre-school groups for 3-6 year olds; through them we can engage with the families.” Baig (a Muslim) pointed to the difference between Samerth and Iqraa: “Iqraa’s in a Muslim area, it’s a Muslim trust so, even if the hospital’s open to all, only Muslims go there.” Samerth is at the intersection of Juhapura and Vejalpur – a Hindu ghetto, Baig calls it. “In this narrow border area between the two, both Hindus and Muslims work, but Muslims can no longer live. We chose this point to work from to try and reduce the gap between Hindus and Muslims.” Then suddenly: “Gujarat is a laboratory of hate.”

Aadil Bagadia, 33, a property developer and civil engineer, lives in Paldi, which he calls a peaceful area. But in 2002 his aunt’s house was burned down, and another family building. “There were mobs looting and attacking with stones, sticks and swords.” He tells of the atrocities in Naroda to the east: “Even in wars, it’s not like this. And we were the people who chose to stay because we believed in India.”

Professor Abeed Shamsi, a retired English teacher and a Muslim, lives in Navrangpura, once a mixed district. “The Hindu building opposite is almost empty now; the Hindus are leaving and it’s become a totally Muslim area. What happened in 2002 is unprecedented. And it took place in broad daylight. But those [Muslims] who weren’t directly affected don’t want to talk about it. They’re the well-off ones. They’ve given money for hospitals, but ask them to a meeting to discuss all this and they won’t come. This apathy will lead to greater disasters.” He has harsh words for the muftis of Deoband (see main article). “They said nothing [about 2002]. It’s sheer insensitivity, because most of those affected were the poorest of the poor. As for the fundamentalists, they are helping the Hindu right with their Muslim identity phobia.”

Professor Ganesh Devi, who works with minorities, agrees that only talking can help repair society. “Even the workplace has become segregated. Only in areas with populations of 50,000 or less, do you still find mixed habitation and social mixing. But if there’s an India-Pakistan cricket match on the TV, windows and doors are firmly shut. The tensions could erupt at any minute.”

In the bustling Old City of Ahmedabad, Hindus and Muslims still live and trade side by side. The winding, narrow allies thread through diverse clusters of homes (known as Pols) housing tightly knit groups (the Chippas, printers from Rajasthan; Nagori, blacksmiths; Mochivar, fish-sellers; Vagari, second-hand clothes sellers). There are Sunni Muslim areas, and ones for the Bohra (Shia) Muslims. But there are also mixed areas, tiny lanes where Muslims and Hindus still live side by side. And I saw a small shrine built into a wall, which both Muslims and Hindus revere. But the Hindu temple at Badra Fort was packed at 8am and the beating drums seemed full of menace. In 2002 Muslims were attacked in the Old City. They fought back, with bricks and stones torn from walls. They still live there. Juhapura seems too far away, out of reach. So they keep piles of stones by their doors and windows, just in case.

*By Wendy Kristianasen Source: http://mondediplo.com/2009/01/03hate