Prisoner Of Conscience
May 14 this year will mark an ignominious date for Indian democracy the start of the third straight year of Binayak Sen’s incarceration in a Chhattisgarh jail. I wonder if there are words left to describe this travesty. What is left to say that has not been said?
On Binayak’s behalf, writers, poets, judges, lawyers, doctors, human rights workers and trade unionists have spoken out from across India and the globe. Former Supreme Court justice Krishna Iyer, former US attorney general Ramsey Clark, Noam Chomsky and 22 Nobel laureates are amongst the thousands who grace this impressive list, but so far it has all been to no avail.
For those who may not recall, let me set out a chronology. Binayak is a paeditrician, a gold medallist who eschewed a lucrative urban practice to work amongst the poorest in central India. When i met him in the mid-80s he had helped build a workers’ hospital for the Chhattisgarh Mines Workers’ Samiti led by the legendary Shankar Guha Niyogi. Niyogi and his team were not ordinary trade unionists but visionaries for whom a workers’ union went beyond wage struggles to health care, education, even cinema literacy and, of course, fighting the scourge of alcoholism that inevitably afflicts the unorganised. Niyogi was murdered in 1991.
The liquor mafia was blamed but it is commonly understood that they were merely the medium and that the real killers were politicians aligned to industrialists for whom a union that could not be co-opted had to be crushed.
Niyogi’s murder was followed by widespread repression. As big money entered the mineral-rich region, Adivasis found themselves displaced from their lands. A section joined the Naxalite movement, which in turn spawned greater repression.
Binayak continued his medical work but also began to document human rights violations in his capacity as secretary of the Peoples’ Union for Civil Liberties, an organisation founded by Jayaprakash Narayan in 1977. More specifically he wrote against the Salwa Judum operation, through which the state armed and trained local Adivasis as a vigilante militia to fight other Adivasis who had joined the Naxalites, resulting in a brutal civil war.
On a visit to jail, Binayak came across an ailing elderly man, Narayan Sanyal, and began medically treating him. Later this became the trigger for his persecution. Binayak was suddenly accused of carrying letters to and from Sanyal, who was accused of being a Naxalite, even though each jail visit was made under strict scrutiny. Binayak was in Kolkata when he learned about the warrant for his arrest. He insisted on travelling back to Chhattisgarh to clear his name, which is certainly not an act of a guilty man. But guilty or not, two precious years have been snatched from him, just as surely as he was snatched from the marginalised people he so dedicatedly served.
Meanwhile the official case against Binayak is falling apart. Of the 83 listed prosecution witnesses, 16 were dropped and six declared hostile by the prosecutors themselves, while 61 others have deposed without corroborating any of the accusations against him. Why is this man still in jail and denied bail? Is it because no one dares admit he was innocent to start with?
On March 16 this year, a group of 50 satyagrahis from across India marched to the central jail in Raipur, demanding Binayak’s release. We were arrested and set free. The following week a second batch of satyagrahis did the same. This action has been taken each Monday for almost two months now. What more can we do? How much louder can we shout?
But shout we must. At Binayak’s trial we learned he is suffering from heart disease. A court-appointed doctor recommended that he be shifted to Vellore for a possible angioplasty or bypass. An RTI query has shockingly revealed a month later that the police are unconstitutionally insisting that Binayak be treated in Chhattisgarh. Should Binayak, who lost his liberty to an arbitrary state, be forced to trust the same agency with his life? India is a signatory to the International Human Rights Covenant. By definition its human rights activists must be protected. It is our democracy that is on trial.
Anand Patwardhan
The Only Remedy For Love Is To Love More
Meherbaan hoke bulalo mujhe chaho jis vaqt
Main gaya vaqt nahin hoon ki phir aa bhi na sakoon.
[Call me kindly whenever you feel like
I'm not time that cannot come back]
None of them ever said so though i always waited for all of them to quote this couplet of Mirza Ghalib. Waiting for such a voice to take wings and expecting such a thing is foolishness, said many friends. Time passed and none of them came back. Nor did any such voice come. But then… after a long silence there was a knock on the door…
I opened the door and i saw the very same faces… couldn’t believe that the ones who had left my world without any notice and without giving me a reason, were now in my world again. Was it a dream, i kept asking myself and every time the inner voice said ‘no’.
How could i make them all stand at the door? I invited them in and they came in. Every furniture in the house still had the fragrance of the same people on it. Time stood still after they had left, for many an elements in my world. Now it was time for frsh air again. They sat with a smiling face in my house as if they had never left my world. I asked them to take rest and they went inside the room to take rest.
Other friends who stood behind the doors untill now surfaced and asked me if i had any sense? They warn me of the guests i have at home now. “Have you forgotten how badly they hurt you and how badly their absence hurt you?” and i remain silent. They proceed with their gunning, “They behave as if nothing happened” and conclude it by declaring that they wouldn’t stand by me if the guest hurt me again this time. I say nothing. A man who does not learn from history is bound to live it again, warns one of them. “May be” i say and add to it the famous quote of Thoreau “The Only Remedy For Love Is To Love More.”
Silence… some are taking rest inside….
Guilt And Shame- Humanity’s Shield
The phone call reminded us of what and all had happened, though the intention behind the call was just to enquire. But it did remind us of that incident which we did not script, happened because of us. We had laughed about it then, but now we couldn’t. After a moments silence Daadi Ma (Deepanshi Tandon) said “I am feling bad.” There was a genuine guilt in her. I, though felt bad, did not voice it as my ego stopped me.
That night wile i was lying on my bed waitiing for sleep to some sit beside me and sing lullaby for me, I felt ashamed of myself for having tried to combat guilt with all sort of reasoning. At the same time i was moved by the genuine guilt of Daadi Ma.
If betrayal is the greatest similarity between Judas and Brutus, the greatest difference would be the feeling of guilt, which pricks Judas and not Brutus. Though, the act cannot be undone by guilt it can for sure act as a watchdog in the future.
Guilt is like a watchdog which, if genuine, guides our action in the future. It appears to me that guilt is a sign of a healthy mind. Like guilt, sense of shame also acts as a watchdog to shape and scripts our action in a more humane and civilized manner. It also makes us humble and human. These two elements are very essential in human beings, it appears to me, if the world has to remain a civilized one.
The most touching part of Anand Bhai’s film War And Peace is the Lahore Public School scene where a debate regarding nuclear weapon is being held. A girl who speaks in favour of nuclear weapon in the debate later contradicts herself when Anand Bhai sits with the debators for an informal discussion. When asked about the contradiction the girl tells that while debating one leans towards the side which would fetch more points. At this point Anand Bhai tells her than even the politicians do the same- speak in favour of that which would fetch them more votes. This statement by Anand Bhai makes the girl feel guilty and ashamed at the same time and she says “Hum Maafi Chahtein Hai” (I am sorry) Probably the difference between thr girl and the politicians is that of guilt and shame.
A chapter in Gandhiji’s autobiography is titled Shyness My Shield. I would like to borrow the idea from Gandhi and alter his sentence to say GUILT AND SHAME- HUMANITY’S SHIELD.
Violence Within Concern
Warden of the Nirashritara Parichara Kendra Ashok Shetty welcoming me to the Kendra said that according to the Abolition of Beggary Act of 1975 beggary is not allowed and hence the people of Movement for Social Life and Human Rights took the initiative to arrest the beggars and hand them over to the Kendra. The beggars were caught by MSLHR with the help of the students of social work of various institutes of Mangalore on March 11.
As Ashok was telling me that the beggars who do not get released by their family or relatives will be trained in certain skills which will help them to make a living and quit begging, a girl entered the room saying she was the daughter of Selvaraju and had come to take him back. Selvaraj, said his daughter Jayalakshmi, in spite of being asked not to beg would beg everyday to accumulate the money required for his alcohol. Releasing Selvaraju Ashok took me around the Kendra where I came face-to-face with the beggars who were caught the previous day.
Noor Muhammed a handicapped who was caught near a Darga speaking philosophically about how “everything is a gift from Allah but it comes through someone else. When people give you something it means that Allah has answered you, but in disguise” conveys at a metaphysical level that he was not begging. But soon he is pulled down by gravitation and says, “I have small kids at home to take care of, so please set me free” and adds to it “If you don’t let me free from here then give it to me in writing that you will take care of the education of my children and also promise me that if I die you will burry me.”
Venkata Subbanna a 70 year old man kept following us as we kept moving forward in the Kendra meeting various beggars. Venata Subbanna, who was arrested near town hall, at one point came before us and joining his hands pleaded to set him free for he had to attend the wedding of his grandson on March 27. He also bent down to hold the feet of Ashok.
An Assamee female named Raja Bola Suri in her initial refusal to speak expressed her anger about her being brought to the Kendra. Then when asked what brought her to this part of the country from Assam she said, “There was no work over there so I came here.” Another female named Hanumanthamma said she was arrested while she was begging, for the sake of her daughter’s food and said “I am not a full time beggar please take me out from this place.”
I retold myself what Harsh Mander Sir once told me “Love should also become our politics” with reference to laws and rules not being enough to solve certain human problems as I was walking out of the Kendra and also told myself THERE CAN BE VIOLENCE WITHIN CONCERN ALSO.
Politics Of Identification
Senior friend, Devinder Sharma – Food and Trade Analyst- sitting across the table was explaining about the ‘My Right To Safe Food’ movement which has been fighting against the GM food. Explaining about the strategy of the movement Sharma Sir said that (Sri Sri Sri) Ravishankar and (Baba) Ramdev also had joined the movement. This made me feel quite uncomfortable, because to me the persons with whom we identify ourselves is also politics.
I remebered, as i continued talking to Sharma Sir, the words uttered by Aruna Roy when i met her in Jaipur. Pointing at her khadi saree she had said “My dress is also my politics” to say by wearing Khadi she is identifying herself with a certain section of the society.
The stream of thought went back to a conversation i had with Pattabhi Sir a few weeks earlier. Pattabhi Sir, speaking of H.S. Shivaprakash Sir, said that Shivaprakash, when the entire Kannada world was singing and praising Basavanna and Allama of the Vachana Movement, showed a world inside the movement which none had explored. The world of Samagaara Bheemavva and Marula Shankaradeva.
Marula Shankaradeva, said Pattabhi Sir, lived his life like a beggar and in a more simplistic way than Basavanna and others did. He tried to negotiate with a world which was much lower than the world with which Basavanna and others identified themselves with.
After speaking to Sharma Sir i came back home and called another senior friend Rahmat Tarikere. Of all the people i chose to call Rahmath Sir because recently he moved away from the Kabir festival held in Bangalore because the Ford foundation funded the programme. Then he had told me that he felt for the cause behind the programme. But he felt that withdrawing from the programme was also his politics as much as promoting it was earlier.
Speaking as to how confusing and disturbing this ‘politics of identification’ can be Rahmath Sir asked me “Samvartha, are we practicing a kind of political untouchability?” Saying so he said “I doubt at times if i am defeating the cause with this political stand” to add wieght to his earlier statement that politics of identfication being quite complex and confusing.
As i narrated him about (Baba) Ramdev joining hands with the cause for fighting GM foods, Rahmath Sir said “He is a threat to many multinational companies” with admiration and added “But you see when he had come to Hospet once, he was indentifying himself with the saffron brigade.”
Describing in what ‘tight positions’ we are put in this post-modern era he said he believed, heart-in-heart, that politics of identification is an important one because that expalins our greater cause and larger politics.
The courtroom farce in Chhattisgarh
On Monday, March 16, the first batch of satyagrahis marched through Raipur towards the Central Jail where Dr. Binayak Sen has been wrongfully incarcerated for almost two years.Flanked by the police, we walked for 2 kilometres with our banners, shouting “Free Binayak!” Onlookers seemed surprised by our open support of someone who has been painted a dreaded “Naxalite” but slowly, caution seemed to dissipate and I noticed a few nods and fleeting smiles.
Chhattisgarh’ s long history of progressive struggles is evident in the many statues of Bhagat Singh and Veer Narayan Singh that dot Raipur. But today fear is in the air. The state is in a brutal fight against Naxalites and even mildly Left political opinion and all criticism of police atrocities is relentlessly crushed.
Dr. Binayak was one who dared to write against the notorious Salwa Judum — a program in which the state has armed and trained a vigilante army of adivasis to fight other adivasis who have joined the Naxalites. The resulting civil war is traumatising the people. Perhaps pointing this out landed Binayak in jail on the trumped-up charge of being a Naxalite. The excuse came when Binayak donned his other hat, that of a physician to the poor. Over three decades Binayak worked amongst the adivasis of Chhattisgarh, virtually as a barefoot doctor. Later he became state secretary of the People’s Union for Civil Liberties (founded in 1977 by Jayaprakash Narayan).
On a prison visit he came across an ailing elderly man Narayan Sanyal, jailed on suspicion of being a Naxalite, and began to treat him. After Binayak’s anti-Salwa Judum reports were published, he was arrested on the charge of carrying letters to and from Sanyal. That every visit involved elaborate jail supervision and frisking seems to be of no consequence to either the local or the Supreme Court both of which have denied Binayak bail without bothering to give reasons.
Filmmaker Ajay TG also found himself behind bars for 3 months simply because he attended Binayak’s trial and because he dared to make a film about Binayak. Police innuendo was that Ajay too was a Naxalite. Mysteriously once Ajay’s case was highlighted nationally he was released without a single charge!
On Monday, Ajay was present as Magsaysay award winner Dr. Sandeep Pandey, trade unionist Thankappan, activists from Bombay, Delhi, Gujarat, Kargil, Kashmir and 35 village activists from Hardoi, UP courted arrest. The police was remarkably gentle and respectful with us. The presence of TV cameras may have helped as also perhaps the bad press the government has been receiving ever since 22 Nobel Prize winners across the globe wrote to the Indian government calling for Binayak’s release.
By late afternoon the satyagrahis were freed. That night, a screening of our film Ram Ke Naam was organised in a workers slum on the outskirts of Raipur. The electricity from the illegal line that lights the basti was woefully inadequate to run the projector. Then someone found a solution. The line to the basti was re-diverted to concentrate power in the projector. Not only did the film run smoothly but our audience expanded as everyone came out of their huts to the only available source of light!
The next morning the trial resumed. At noon Binayak and his co-accused were whisked into court under armed guard. Binayak has shaved off his beard and looks younger than his last photo but the lines on his face have deepened. He seemed really happy to see us old friends and new supporters.
At the trial the police tripped all over themselves under cross-examination. Soon the prosecution asked one of its own star witnesses to withdraw his statement. I didn’t understand the logic but it clearly points to a weakening of their case as their witness couldn’t stand scrutiny. The real shock came towards the end. Binayak told the judge that he was in mortal danger from heart trouble and accused the court of taking no action though he had raised this at the last hearing. A visibly angered judge ejected the accused and the trial ended for the day. Binayak’s wife Ilina confirmed that he has had angina problems since 2004. Is Binayak not entitled to medical treatment of his choice even when he is prepared to bear expenses? If the state cites security issues to deny vital care, only sustained public pressure can help.
So on March 23, the day Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev were martyred, another batch of over 50 people were arrested in Raipur. They included Binayak’s mother, many survivors of the Bhopal Gas Tragedy of 1984, filmmaker Amar Kanwar and poet Vinay Mahajan. Next Monday a new batch of satyagrahis from various parts of the country will court arrest and so it will continue week after week till it yields results or till India runs out of democratic citizens willing to make the effort to stand by one of the most dedicated doctors and outstanding citizens this country has seen.
- Anand Patwardhan
The writer is a documentary film-maker
http://www.indianex press.com/ news/the- courtroom- farce-in- chhattisgarh/ 442923/
FIRAAQ
“Saath Suron Mein Itni Taaqat Kahaan Ke Itni Nafrat Ka Saamna Kar Sake?” (Where do the seven syllables hold the strength to fight this hatred?)
This self-suspicion of the age old singer (played by Nasseruddin Shah) in the movie FIRAAQ possibly could have been the major pre-occupation of the director Nandita Das too, while making her first film on life after the 2002 Gujarath genocide, as to how to capsule the trauma in 24 frames per second?!?
Its the same self-suspecion that has been stopping me from writing about the film, evenafter one week. But how to withhold the ripples created by the film?
FIRAAQ is not about the people who were killed, raped and burnt during the massacre. But its about those who continue to die everyday after the massacre, of those who are dying to make a living, its about the surviovrs and their struggle.
The hatred that N.Shah speaks of at the end on the film, starts unfolding from the very first scene of a mass burrial. This scene reminding one of the similar visuals from the Allain Resnais documentary NIGHT AND FOG on German concentration camp, reaches its height when the man burrying the dead bodies, on finding a dead body of ‘another’ religion lifts the spade to hit the dead body! The frustration of a man witnessing the massacre couldnt be depicted in a better way, it appears to me.
While one goes to hit the corpse, there are others who go and hit and damage the tomb/shrine. This is a refernce to the demolition of the tomb of Vali Gujarathi (1650-1707), a Sufi saint-poet who had writte:
Gujarath Ke Firaaq Se Hai Khaar Khaar Dil
Betaab Hai Seenay Mein Aatish Bahaar Dil
Marham Nahi Hai Iske Zakhm Ka Jahaan Mein
Shamsheer-E-Hijr Se Jo Hua Hai Figaar Dil
( My Heart Is Thorn-Filled With Separation From Gujarath
Restless, Frantic, Flam- Wrapped In The Spring
On The Earth There Exists No Balm For Its Wounds
My Heart Split Asunder By The Dagger Of Seapration)
Yes, it appears like there is no balm. Possibly that is the reason why the auto driver in the film when asked “Woh Tumhe Maar Daalte Toh?” (What if they had killed you?) answers “Iss se Wahi Achcha Hota” (That would have been better than this)
What is the ‘THIS’ that he is mentioning about? He himself answers in another dialogue after the police spill all the water collected in a container outside the house. He says “Hum Paani Bachaate Hai Aag Bujhaane Ke Liye, Aur Yeh Log…” (We save water to put off the unexpected fire and these people….) This is the ‘THIS’ he is speaking about- a state where the basic usage of water is not to drink but to extinguish fire!
What words could convey about this traumatic world? Deepti Naval is an epitome of this inability to speak and the silenet suffering in the film. She is contantly haunted by the cry of a lady who begged to save her during the massacre. But with a fascist minded husband there was nothing that she could do to help the lady. The only solution she finds is self-punishment by burning her hand with burning oil, till she finds a boy Mohsen whom she shelters at her home by renaming him as Mohan, to hide his religious identity from her husband.
Shakespeare would have probably rethought about one of his most quoted ‘What’s There In A Name?’ (Romeo and Juliet) if he were to witness the renaming of Mohsen to Mohan. A similar situation is of Sameer who is mistaken by everyone as a Hindu and he is thankful to his father for naming him Sameer and not any other name which would reveal his religious identity.
Amongst all these sort of violence there is a wedding house where the bride says “The fun has been spoilt by these stupid riots” and there are people who sit in their balcony and show the police the direction in which the victims ran, there are also people who ask the men who raoed “How much did you enjoy?” who in return answer in a dissatisfied tone “What enjoyment are you talking about, when we had to share the enjoyment with others?”
“Some people can carry on as if nothing happened” says Sameer’s wife to which Sameer answers “Because they can.”
Not all can… like Deepthi Naval, in a scene, turns off the tv set unable to see the ripples of violence any more. But even after turning of the tv set, she is continued to be hanuted by the cry of the lady whom she could not save.
The film FIRAAQ similary, even after the title card flows and you walk out of the theatre, will continue to haunt…..
