
The spate of violence in Bangalore over the past weekend serves warnings to us all. There is no room for complacency on the vital imperative to maintain peace between communities. For all those reassured by the thought that the continuing scandal of Gujarat 2002 would insulate us from outbreaks of similar horrors in the near future and beyond, events in Bangalore must be reason to resume the vigil. In the last instance, it does not matter what, or who, set off the ugly spiral of violence and whether it was in fact set off by the ostensible reason now being proffered 8212; outrage in the city8217;s Muslim-dominated quarters over Saddam Hussein8217;s execution. The weekend8217;s violence points to a worrying lack of knit between communities. It suggests that the politics of creating and stoking hoary resentments still roams out there, preying on vulnerabilities. It indicates that government still has some way to go before it can effectively anticipate and prevent such violence from raging in the city.
And then, Bangalore is not just another city. While communal violence is a shame and an anachronism in 21st-century India wherever it may occur, it bears a special tragedy and poignancy when it visits Bangalore. This city has become the face of India in the world. Despite the air pollution and traffic congestion and the general crumbling of infrastructure, it holds out a glimpse of a forward-looking India that is slowly spreading out from the metropolis and encompassing the countryside. When curfew is clamped over such a city, or parts of it, when its roads become still and strewn with glass, it is not just the city8217;s citizens who pay the price.