To observe the martyrdom of Mahatma Gandhi just a few days ago on January 30, some TV channels telecast Richard Attenborough’s Oscar-winning film Gandhi that has a moving image of the Mahatma lying on his bed, fasting to death to protest against the communal riots in Noakhali in Bengal. The bloodshed comes to an end as the repentant rioters surrender their weapons before him so that he can break his fast. It also offers a contrast to the present-day India where communal violence continues to recur with monotonous regularity without anybody with a moral authority to rise and campaign against it.
As eminent American political scientist Paul R. Brass notes in his book entitled “The Production of Hindu-Muslim Violence in Contemporary India”, published by Oxford University Press in 2003, not many people are aware that “Hindu-Muslim riots and anti-Muslim pogroms have been endemic in India since Independence”. Brass, who has done extensive research into collective violence and published two books “Riots and Pogroms” and “Theft of an Idol” in 1996 and 1997 respectively, does not believe that the so-called communal riots are spontaneous outbursts of mass frenzy on account of tensions between two communities, and concludes that there is an “institutionalised system of riot production”. And, like any theatrical production, it too goes through three phases: preparation/rehearsal, activation/enactment, and explanation/interpretation.
Book jacket
“In sites of endemic riot production,” Brass informs, “preparation and rehearsal are continuous activities. Activation or enactment of a large-scale riot takes place under particular circumstances, most notably in the case of competitive political systems in a context of intense political mobilisation or electoral competition in which riots are precipitated as a device to consolidate the support of ethnic, religious, or other culturally marked groups by emphasising the need for solidarity in face of the rival communal group. The Third phase follows after the violence in a broader struggle within, but also outside, the local community to control the explanation or interpretation of the causes of the violence. In this phase, wider elements in society become involved, including journalists, politicians, social scientists, and public opinion generally.”
“Splintered Justice: Living the Horror of Mass Communal Violence in Bhagalpur and Gujarat” is a book that validates Paul Brass’ methodological conclusions. The book, published by Three Essays Collective in November 2016, carries a detailed introduction by human rights activist and director of the Centre for Equity Studies Harsh Mander and Navsharan Singh who is associated with the Canada-based International Research Development Centre. It consists of two sections that are devoted to remembering the Bhagalpur and Gujarat carnages. Warisha Farasat, an alumnus of National Law School, Bangalore and Columbia University who practises law in Delhi, has written the first section that is further divided into two parts: “Subversion of the Justice Process” and “The Unhealed Wounds of Bhagalpur”. Ahmedabad-based legal activist and researcher Prita Jha has contributed the second section on Gujarat that is also divided into two parts: “Criminal Justice” and “Assessing Reparations”.
While reading the book, one was reminded of what Vibhuti Narain Rai, a retired Indian Police Service officer who later became vice-chancellor of Mahatma Gandhi International Hindi University, Wardha, has said about communal riots. It is Rai’s considered opinion that no communal riot can last more than 24 hours if the district administration and the police do not allow it. When the massacre of 42 innocent Muslims took place at Hashmipura in Ghaziabad district of western Uttar Pradesh, Rai was posted as District Superintendent of Police. He played an exemplary role in exposing the massacre and came to the conclusion that the massacre was masterminded by some police and civilian officials.
Based on interviews with victims and witnesses of Bhagalpur and Gujarat riots, what Warisha Farasat and Prita Jha have written goes to reinforce the terrible realisation that criminal justice system in our country has largely failed, and the bureaucracy and the police have been, to a large extent, politicised and communalised. It is the same heart-rending story of how FIRs were either not registered or, if registered, heavily doctored by the police persons themselves, how investigation was conducted that often led nowhere, how witnesses were intimidated or eliminated and how justice was not only delayed but often denied. The governments of the day watched over these manufactured incidents of mass violence without doing much to control the situation. Post-riot relief was often selectively distributed. The two detailed accounts of the Bhagalpur and Gujarat riots also bring out the oft-ignored reality of gender violence being used as a weapon of communal violence.
As Harsh Mander and Navsharan Singh ask in their introduction, “did the governments in Assam in 1983, Delhi in 1984, Mumbai in 1992-93, and Gujarat in 2002 or Kandhamal in 2008, fail to prevent slaughter and arson because they lacked sufficient powers or legal muscle?” The obvious answer is an emphatic ‘No’.
Warisha Farasat and Prita Jha have made a valuable contribution to the growing literature on communal riots in India through their first-hand interviews with those who bore the brunt of these massacres. Reading through these accounts is an eye-opening experience. It is an experience that shakes the very foundations of one’s belief in human goodness but also makes one better prepared to face the grim reality.
