This silence is chilling

There are some who look at Gujarat and express the hope that it too will go the Mumbai way. That however bleak the prospects may seem at present, the state 8212; having experienced the awful ravages of communal hatred 8212; will also learn in the coming years to seek survival in peaceful if uneasy co-existence rather than violence.

It would be heartening to believe in this theory. And reasonable, too, if one considers how similar Ahmedabad, where much of the recent violence has been centred, is to Mumbai in its emphasis on economic progress, modernisation and good living. It is tempting to believe that pragmatism, if nothing else, will provide the glue for amity in the future. But how valid is the expectation? So far much of the debate over violence in Gujarat has centred around the removal of Narendra Modi, the tense conditions, the possibility of elections and so on. Little yet has been said about the response of the state8217;s people.

If one looks back at the 1993 disturbances in Mumbai, one finds much that corresponds to Gujarat as far as the general public 8212; at least those not directly involved in the violence 8212; goes. For one, there was the perception of threat among the middle class then too. Vigilante squads were formed in colonies of both communities. There were rumours of boats landing with arms from the Gulf. Rumours of bread and milk being poisoned. Rumours of rapes and mutilation and so on. And apart from fear there was also a sense of paralysis in the early days of the trouble. But that is as far as the analogy ends.

As the scope and nature of the attacks became increasingly apparent in 1993, Mumbai8217;s citizens though slow to begin with responded strongly. Less than a week after the trouble had started prominent citizens held a public meeting at Hutatma Chowk right in the centre of the city8217;s business district. Delegations of influential Mumbaikars pleaded with the state administration and the Centre for action. Volunteers set up call centres to act as intermediaries to galvanise protection for victims in immediate danger of attack; collected clothes and foodgrains; prepared and distributed food packets to victims at the railway stations; lobbied with politicians for space and transport vehicles; and travelled to trouble spots like Behrampada to quell trouble. These were not just activists but students, housewives, business people, advertising executives, artists, writers, lawyers and even socialites. People from various communities and age groups. That the events of the time left an imprint on the city8217;s psyche was also evident in the outpouring of art and films that were made about the time.

In Gujarat, in contrast, so far the only thing more worrying than reports of looting by well-heeled citizens in the early days has been their silence. Unlike Mumbai, Gujarat still gives the impression of being mired in ill will. Sections of the local press continue to fan the flames. One hears very little of local citizens8217; initiatives or large peace meetings. The disruption of the Sabarmati Ashram peace meeting a month after the initiation of disturbances has been widely reported. Those managing relief camps claim a shortage of resources and of help from members of the majority community. People appear to be terrified or disinclined to openly talk about peace. Recently, a meeting of Gujarati thinkers and writers was held in Mumbai to introspect about events in the state.

It is early days yet. But perhaps more such efforts will be made in time to come.