Edited copy of this article was published in the OPEN Magazine, Dec 25-31, 2013 edition
From Bharuch, Gujarat:
“There is going to be a speech,” observed one of the three youths outside the mosque doors, leaning against his Hero Honda. In lane adjacent to the mosque, plastic chairs were being arranged in two rows facing each other. The youth stole a look at the tea that the local vendor had sponsored for the gathering, gulping it down in one swift motion from what looked like a thimble-sized cup. Though unsure of why the village square was abuzz, the trio hung back.
The
evening on December 2 wasn’t typical of Nabipur, a village in Bharuch district
of Gujarat. The fleeting chill of November had receded for a brief while,
gearing up for a much stronger return. As people emerged out of the mosque
after their last namaaz for the day, few
made way for their homes. They waited in clumps of twos and threes in the narrow
alleys around the mosque, the bigger of the two in the hamlet with a Muslim majority.
At
the heart of the hubbub, Haji Dilawar Yakub, resident of Bharuch city, readied
himself for the much-rehearsed speech. Even as he smiled through the empty
courtesies with the village elders, 48-year-old Dilawar was painfully conscious
of the fact that the word of the event hadn’t knocked many doors. It was one of
the meetings that were hastily put together on the last minute, a let-down
after the previous day when a crowd of over 2,000 had gathered at Valan village
chowk.
At
around 8.20 pm, his associate Ibrahim Baji took to the narrow space between the
rows of chairs and cleared his throat. Slowly, a hush enveloped the crowd
consisting of a hundred odd men to accommodate Baji’s sombre address. A woman in
a hijab emerged along with her daughter from the balcony overlooking the
street. Mohalla shopkeepers peered from between the curtains of shampoo
sachets and chips’ packets or leaned over their counter for a better view. As
the adults stood in rapt attention, their children grew increasingly restless
and started shifting weight from one foot to the other.
“Friends,
we know of what happened in Sansrod village on Eid,” said Ibrahim, referring to
the communal scuffles triggered by an episode of cow slaughter in the village
13 kilometres down the highway that links the two villages. “We are here to
ensure that such incidents don’t happen again.”
A
day after the incident, every newspaper had carried reports of a violent mob
clashing with an armed police. The reports had seared disturbing images in
Dilawar’s mind. Unable to quell his unease, he had rung up some of his friends
and acquaintances who decided to examine the tensions at its source. At Sansrod,
an eerie silence waited for them the next day. Policemen stalked the streets,
knocking on every door, demanding answers and explanations. Several men had
fled the village, they were told, and their wives and children were refusing to
open doors.
“There
is a chapter in Macbeth,” Dilawar told me later, referring to the Shakespearean
tragedy.
“It’s called ‘Coming Events Cast their Shadows Before’. In the days
leading to Eid, I had felt increasingly anxious at the reports of Muslims
transporting cattle getting harassed by gaurakshaks
(cow-protectors). After coming back to Bharuch, we decided that there was
only one way to end the constant harassment.” On October 26, after numerous
discussions and deliberations, they formed Gau Hifazat Samiti with Dilawar at
the helm. Ever since, they have been hopping villages and educating people
about the consequences of cow slaughter. The 15 person strong team consists
entirely of Muslims, the community frequently chastised for indulgence in cow
slaughter for religious reasons.
From
their first ever session in Pariej village of Bharuch, the members have come a
long way. In their 37th session in Nabipur, it was Baji who went
first, introducing himself and the fellow members of the committee: Mushtaq
Gaurji, Maulvi Lukman Bhutia and the President of the committee. Theirs was a
one point agenda, he said – to promote religious harmony and peaceful
coexistence between both Hindus and Muslims.
“You
cannot please Allah by hurting those around you. Hindus consider cow a holy
animal. Even if we don’t sacrifice a cow, we have alternatives in goats and
buffaloes. All we say is, don’t eat, don’t sell and don’t slaughter,” said
Dilawar as he wrapped up the meeting after about 50 minutes. “Now I would like
to know what you think about this.”
***
This collage of pictures, claimed to have been taken after the Sansrod incident, is made by DeshGujarat.com.
The website, in turn, claims to have taken these images from a local Gujarati newspaper
Two
months earlier, on the morning of October 16, a loudspeaker mounted on the top
of a minaret in Sansrod sprang to life. The clerics of the only mosque in the village
in Vadodara district had begun their Eid-ul-Adha prayers. Being a Muslim dominated
village, the festive vibe was all-pervading. The residents, decked up in their
finest clothes, were gearing up for the traditional meat feast. Not far from
the mosque, off the mouth of the lane leading to Sansrod, a slaughter house was
getting ready for ‘qurbani’, the ritual sacrifice in commemoration of Prophet Ibrahim's own.
Roughly
20 kilometres from Sansrod, in a part of Karjan taluka, the situation was more
frenzied. In the courtyard of the local police station, about 40 policemen were readying themselves for a raid. Out came the jeeps and out came the
lathis. Soon, two teams led by with 24 armed men were cruising down National
Highway 8 in the direction of Sansrod. Tailing those vehicles was Jatin Vyas, a
self-appointed gorakhsak (cow
protector) and a part of the religious organization Vishwa Hindu Parishad
(VHP).
The
team reached the village around 9.30 am. The policemen marched straight to
the slaughterhouse. They didn’t have to look too hard for what they were tipped
off about. At the entrance lay carcasses of two calves, entrails et al, blood-soaked
soil bearing testimony to a violation of the state law banning cow
slaughter. The men went straight in and took the guilty butchers into custody.
What followed, according to newspaper reports, was a livid mob had clashed with the cops, six of whom were
injured even as one of the vehicles was torched. At the end of the mayhem, 125 villagers were booked for rioting and 76 cows, as it was claimed, were rescued. The village was combed for the next couple of days
for troublemakers. In the official
version of events, the defiance of
locals would appear to be the cause of violence.
Narratives
differ depending on who you speak to. Karjan circle police inspector (CPI) Sudarshansingh
Vala told me that the police took utmost caution not to injure anyone even as
the villagers attacked them with ploughs and swords. However, consensus can be
established among all quarters till the point the policemen took butchers into
custody.
“Things
soured when the mob spotted Vyas,” said Abdul Quiyum. The slight, elderly
Quiyum, known as ‘Masterji’ in his part of town, is the general secretary of
Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind, a religious organisation that works towards the welfare of
Muslims. Sansrod is bang opposite Palej, the town he lives in.
“When
the police reached the slaughterhouse, the policemen dragged the butchers out
and rained lathis on them. At this time, a few villagers who were returning to
their houses happened to see this. They moved closer to take a stock of the
situation. The police doled out a few blows to them too,” said Quiyum. As the
tempers flared, an alert villager from Sansrod informed Quiyum. Within minutes,
he had kicked his motorcycle to life and rushed to the village.
That
cows were slaughtered was nothing new for the villagers, claims Quiyum. But
when the police started beating the civilians, it had an instant alienating
effect. Word spread that the policemen were roughing up even the innocents. Eid
celebration was replaced by simmering anger and a mob gathered at the place.
With the sensitivity of a troll, the police lobbed tear gas shells to disperse
the mob. But the situation was already out of hand. The mob had realized who
had orchestrated the raid.
“A
few days earlier, Vyas had himself sold about 160 cows to the butchers. People
know of his reputation. That’s the strategy among gorakshaks – to make money and target Muslims at the same time. On
one hand, he makes deals sitting in an auto on the highway and then comes to
ruin our festival citing cow slaughter,” Quiyum echoed the sentiment fuming in
the air.
The
folder he had handed me contained numerous letters he has written to various
governmental authorities and law-enforcing agencies of the state and the Centre.
The letters are rife with incidents quoting the harassment of Muslims on the
pretext of cow slaughter, the involvement of gorakshaks and Hindu right-wing organizations like Vishwa Hindu
Parishad (VHP) and Bajrang Dal in promoting cow slaughter.
***
Time
and again, the practice of cow slaughter has been used to rake up communal
sentiments across India. The appeal transcends class and caste barriers,
instantly leading to formation of two warring factions: vulnerable Hindus vs
anti-social elements, implying, in more cases than not, Muslims. Now eyeing the
Prime Ministerial post, the reigning CM of Gujarat Narendra Modi has frequently
revisited the issue over the years. Whether it is BJP rallies in Mangalore in
May, Nandgaon of Rajasthan and Khandwa of Madhya Pradesh in November or his
home-base Gandhinagar in February, the battle-cries ring similar: of Congress
(a party frequently accused of minority appeasement by BJP) promoting ‘pink
revolution’.
For
Modi, it’s only ideological homecoming. When it comes to crusading against cow
slaughter, Gujarat has always had a chip on its shoulder. Right from 1954, the
state has had a complete ban on the slaughter of cow and its progeny under
Gujarat Animal Preservation Act. In August 2011, members of Maldhari community
staged massive protests on the grounds of illegal cow slaughter taking place
across the state. An indigenous tribe in Gujarat, Maldharis – literally,
‘owners of livestock’ – had then alleged that the culling took place in cahoots
with the police. After two months of relentless agitations, the Act was amended
in October to include a ban on transportation of animals for slaughter. A six
month jail term was increased to seven years and the fine was increased by
fifty times up to Rs. 50,000, applicable as per the gravity of offence. This, in spite of beef being the largest consumed meat in India, as a
study conducted by United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation shows.
In
spite of the law giving more teeth to the administration, it had little impact
on the incidents of cow slaughter. “Nobody is really interested in cow
protection,” Ram Puniyani, a prominent human rights activist, told me over the
phone in early December. “Organizations like VHP and Bajrang Dal try to extort
money in the name of go-raksha. When
the law was passed, religion was only used as a pretext. There were a range of
political and economic reasons behind it. In fact, Gujarat hasn’t showed any
reduction in incidents of cow slaughter than any other Indian state.”
Puniyani,
who has extensively researched and written about the issue, said that there
have also been instances where dead cows have been picked up and Muslims have
been accused of bovicide. Often, polarisation is done through word-of-mouth propaganda
or through pamphlets.
“It’s a case of vote-bank politics. Most of the gaushalas (cow shelters) across the
country are ill-equipped. A person running a gaushala once told me how several of such shelters themselves give
away the cows they cannot accommodate. But the communal forces only target
Muslims. As a result, they are always on the defensive,” he said.
A
scrap dealer by profession, Jatin Vyas comes with a
chequered past. Accused in a couple of cases of extortion and kidnapping, he is
best known among those I spoke to in context of a similar high-profile incident
of cow slaughter. Back then, the place was Tankaria and the year 2002; three
days shy of Godhra riots. The common thread in both occasions: Vyas had acted
on the eve of Eid.
“Before
you ask me anything, tell me, are you going to take a positive angle or
negative angle?” Vyas asked me over the phone in the third week of November. I had
only introduced myself and the scope of the article. “I ask because people
speak to butchers and print wrong things,” he said, citing a regional newspaper
that is known to do so.
Based
in Vadodara, Vyas has been active in the field since past 15 years. Gaurakhsa is a voluntary activity
without any legal recognized or an umbrella organization, though many of them
hail from right-wing groups like VHP and Bajrang Dal. Vyas calls their actions
as those done out of goodness of heart. Most of the vehicles carrying animals
come from Rajasthan. Ergo, most of the crackdowns take place on the highways
along the state border. It’s a common practice among the volunteers to inform the
police about the leads they get and accompany them to the spot, claims Vyas. This
is ostentatiously done so that the rescued animals can be escorted to animal
shelters, locally called panjrapols.
Vyas refused to discuss his informers, referring those who had given him the
heads up in Sansrod as, “They were just some nice Muslims from Sansrod.”
“The
police stop the trucks we have been informed about. Almost always, we find that
there are some 20-40 cows stacked together in these vehicles.”
“But
how do you know they are being carried for slaughter?”
“But
this is still a case of animal cruelty. Then we ask the drivers if they are
taking them to qatalkhana
(slaughterhouse). They say, yes. That’s how we know.”
I
expressed my disbelief at the simplicity of the exercise. “Try coming to the
field and you will know,” he replied.
Vyas
denied any possibility of their being any racket with police, cow shelters and gaurakshaks being hand-in-glove, calling
it a tactic of maligning those working for the cause. “There might be
corruption in other areas but there just cannot be any when it comes to cows. A
cow is a mother,” he reasoned.
For
all his denials, numerous locals and activists say that the modus operandi of
the racket is “common knowledge”, even if few efforts have been made so far to
document it.
“I
have received numerous complaints from activists about the gorakshaks being
involved in such incidents. While the investigations are ongoing, the
application has been filed based on hearsay. With Jatin Vyas, we are taking his
criminal past into consideration,” DSP Sandip Singh, who manages the rural
Vadodara, told me in December over the phone. He added that the complainants, however, didn't have any proofs to back their claims.
Singh
has acted upon numerous cases of cow slaughter over the years. He stated that the
number of cases filed about cow slaughter has showed significant decrease in
the recent times. “One of the reasons that such incidents take place is the
ignorance of the law. Those involved are mostly from the lower middle class.
Their livelihood is based completely from such activities. So when there is a
crackdown, they oppose it,” he said. Singh denied any knowledge of gorakshaks or cow-shelters being
involved in facilitating the racket.
***
Haji Dilawar
Yakub (centre), the President of Gau Hifazat
Samiti, with his associates Lukman Bhuta (L) and Mehmoob Master (R)
Located
on the banks of the river Narmada, Bharuch is the neighbouring district to
Vadodara. The heavily industrialized city, famous for its salted peanuts,
houses a population of over 4 lakh. Near the outskirts of the city, in
nondescript building located at a particularly noisy railway intersection,
Yakub runs his scaffolding business.
When
I met him for the first time in the third week of November, he was waiting for
me with four other members of the committee. His associates – middle aged men
are mostly from the city and neighbouring villages – were all dressed in the
traditional attire of skullcaps and kurta-pyjama
in varying degrees of white. There are professionals,
engaged in insurance companies, municipal schools and other jobs. They let Yakub do most of
the talking, with a nod
or a murmur of assent every now and then. An engineer by qualification, Yakub is visually
impaired, although that does not keep him from reading and occasionally quoting a
shayari or Shakespeare to make a
point.
“It’s
no secret. In Gujarat, the ban on cow slaughter is only as effective as the
liquor ban,” he said.
“This issue remains pertinent because no matter which
quarter supplies cows for slaughter, there is always a Muslim at the end of the
supply chain. The community of butchers are almost all Muslims. Our religion regards
beef of cow as halal (fit for
consumption), so there is always a market among our community.”
The
economics of owning cows and bullocks (from the cow family) has become knotty
since the Green Revolution. The cattle-owing class has always been
farmers who used cows for milk and bullocks for transport and tilling their
lands. As tractors and trucks started intruding in the space traditionally held
by animals, bullocks started getting redundant. Over time, slaughterhouses
remained the only place raising a bullock would promise any returns.
Locals say there is more to the incidents of cow slaughter than blatant
disregard of the law. In a visit to Panoli, 36-year-old farmer Hanif Haslot
told me that it’s a simple case of economics. Muslims are under a religious
obligation to sacrifice an animal for Eid. In Gujarat, the standard practice is
to sacrifice a goat, a bullock or a buffalo. Since cow slaughter is outlawed,
the demand for other animals shoots up, leading to shortage and high prices.
“During
Eid, goat meat is available for Rs.400/kg. On the other hand, bullock and
buffalo meat come at Rs. 120/kg. You have to pick between breaking the law of
the state and breaking the codes of religion. It’s not always an easy choice,”
said Haslot.
Panoli
was one of the villages covered by the Samiti in the latter half of November. However,
that session, like each of the 36 sessions held in various parts of Bharuch,
Surat and Vadodara district, didn’t involve discussions about the racket or the
economics. Nevertheless, the locals I spoke to were extremely suspicious about
my intentions, hesitant to speak of what has always been said in whispers.
“Besides,
that’s not the point of the sessions,” said Yakub. “The racket is an area of
common knowledge but we don’t have any evidence to prove it. We tell people
what they should do, what they shouldn’t and why it is for their own good.”
I
asked if they have ever tried to make efforts to get any more evidence than
verbal testimonies.
Yakub
gave me a wry smile. “Mera munshi bhi qatil hai,
kya faisla dega woh mujhe?”
***
As
Dilawar finished his address with an open ended invitation, the crowd burst
into an enthusiastic applause. The sarpanch
seated in the last row stood up. “If it happens, we will make sure that we call
the police to take him away.” Another round of applause followed along with
several murmurs of agreement, this time waking up the only person from the
front row who hadn’t raised his hand.
A day after the session, we are at his office again discussing
the previous night and the way ahead. I ask him about sentiments palpable in
the audiences he addresses.“The main problem is that Muslims are still afraid,”
he says, “those who aren’t guilty, even more so, for they fear they might be
picked up for something that wasn’t their fault to begin with.”
“Every now and then, people walk up to
us and congratulate us for the message we are trying to spread. Often, they
come from neighbouring villages and want us to come to theirs. We tell them
it’s not possible for us to visit each and every settlement. When we go to a
place, we expect those in attendance to tell ten more people, till it becomes a
movement and Gujarat becomes a model state.”
