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'Non-violence
is a more active and real fight against wickedness than
retaliation whose very nature is to increase wickedness'
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'We'll
fight till justice is delivered. In fact, with every passing day,
our fight grows stronger. After all, we have the power of being
right with us.'
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Hunger strike for Bhopal justice
Three have gone on hunger strike outside the
Indian parliament in New Delhi over the government's bid to reduce
criminal charges against those responsible for the 1984 gas disaster in Bhopal. Indra
Sinha launches an urgent appeal for political support and reveals the
corporate greed behind the incredible horrors of "that night"
I AM WRITING this because the life of a very precious friend is in danger.
Together with two companions he is staging a satyagraha in the form of an
indefinite fast outside the Indian parliament in New Delhi. The three have been
without food since June 28th, (as you receive this they will be in the twelfth
day) in temperatures of 113F (45C). We are desperately worried about them. This
email comes to you partly because I've been too scared and upset to think
clearly and because I feel the strongest urge to turn to my own friends for
help, but also because there are a number of simple, quick things that each of
us can do (this is not an appeal for money) to help resolve things positively.
My friend's name is Sathyu Sarangi. I've known him about nine years, during
which time we've been working together to provide medical relief for the
survivors of Union Carbide's gas disaster in Bhopal, central India. It is now
seventeen and a half years since the night of gas, or "that night" as
it is called in Bhopal (a little further on I'll write a brief account of what
happened), and well over 100,000 people in the city's poorest districts are
still seriously and chronically ill. Sathyu's two companions are Rashida Bi and
Tara Bai, both gas survivors. Rashida lost five members of her family as a
result of "that night". Tara Bai lost the child she was carrying, as
did nearly half the pregnant women who were exposed to the gas.
The three are protesting against the Indian
government's recent application to dilute the criminal charges that those
responsible still face in the Bhopal High Court. Reducing the charges would in
effect extinguish the case, which has already been on hold for 11 years because
the company and its (now ex-) CEO have repeatedly ignored summonses to appear.
If letting them off the hook seems an odd response to 11 years of
contempt, you need to know that Union Carbide was recently acquired and is now
wholly owned by Dow Chemicals, and Dow is a giant multinational with large
interests in India, and limitless wealth with which to promote them.
Sathyu, Rashida and Tara have decided that it is worth risking their lives in
order to ensure that the company is brought to account. I'll try to explain why.
Please stay with me. Long though this message is, I've spent three days and four
nights agonising about how to keep it as succinct as possible, yet communicate
the importance of what these three are doing, and also our great fear for them.
I'm hoping that when you know more, you will want to add your voice to those
asking the Indian government to reverse its decision. (You could send an email,
or fax, or pick up the phone. (I've listed all these in a separate attachment.)
I also urge you to forward this message on to as many of your friends as you
can, and to any other people you can think of who might be able to help:
activists, journalists, writers, artists, media figures, lawyers and academics,
church groups, campaigning organisations and charities. We - Sathyu's friends in
this country - want to talk to anyone who will listen. (If we could have we'd
probably have done one of those mass spammings and you'd have got this
sandwiched among the usual offers to make you a billionaire by next week,
increase your ejaculate by 678%, or endow you with breasts the size of Mauna
Loa!) We find that we have become intensely mindful of the hunger-strikers every
minute that we are awake, it's as if our lives are being lived in time borrowed
from theirs.
Most of what we have been able to learn about the effects of hunger-strikes, the
progression of the body towards death, has been from reading about the IRA Long
Kesh men, who on average survived 60 days on just water before they died. But
blindness and other serious irreversible damage occurred well before that point.
Recent hunger-strikes by Turkish political prisoners have produced the same grim
statistics. The extreme heat in Delhi, coupled with the fact that the two women
are already suffering from a complex of gas-related disorders, make their
deterioration likely to be much faster. A week into the fast we had reports of
raised ketone levels (the body in starvation beginning to consume itself) and
Rashida's blood pressure had climbed.
I spoke to Sathyu on the phone not too long ago,
Rashida had just had a severe attack of cramp, but was recovering. Tara and he
are all right, "better than yesterday". They have been telling each
other jokes and indulging in the old Indian pastime of gaali (humorous abuse).
Sathyu says that after a few days the hunger stops and is replaced by a kind of
peace. Doctors are with the three of them and they are taking water with a
little lemon, and electrolytes. About three hundred gas survivors from Bhopal,
among them many children, are with them in the blistering heat, keeping up their
spirits with songs and jokes.
We only found out about the indefinite fast four days ago. Sathyu had asked that
we not be told until then because he didn't want us to worry. When I phoned him
- the three have a mobile with them - the first thing he asked, before I'd had a
chance to utter a word, was whether I was walking regularly. It seemed
impossible, hearing the sounds of the Delhi streets in the background, that only
six weeks ago he had been staying with us in Sussex and that, at his instigation
we had gone for daily walks through fields and woods full of fading bluebells.
He had learned by then of the impending dilution of charges against Union
Carbide, and he said that it might be necessary to try a hunger-strike. What
else was left?
In the west the hunger-strike is often regarded as a petulant, self-destructive
gesture: "It was their choice to stop eating, they can always choose to
start again," someone said to me, trying to be reassuring, little realising
that her words cut like knives. In India the "fast unto death" is not
perceived like this. Rather it's noble defiance, a stand made in extremis, as a
last response to an intolerable situation, when everything else has been tried
and no other hope is left. Mahatma Gandhi used it as a political weapon to stop
the communal slaughter that followed the partition of India. Gandhiji detested
what he called the "administrative exigencies" of realpolitik, that
is, cynical political decisions that run counter to goodness and justice. It is
his example that was in the minds of the three Bhopali hunger- strikers when
they sat down, ten days ago, under their tree in Jantar Mantar, outside the
Indian Parliament.
What else was left? Well what else are people to do when everything has been
taken from them?
aim a blowtorch at my eyes
pour acid down my throat
strip the tissue from my lungs.
drown me in my own blood.
choke my baby to death in front of me.
make me watch her struggles as she dies.
cripple my children.
let pain be their daily and their only playmate.
spare me nothing. wreck my health
so I can no longer feed my family.
watch us starve. say it's nothing to do with you.
don't ever say sorry.
poison our water. cause monsters
to be born among us. make us curse God.
stunt our living children's growth.
for seventeen years ignore our cries.
teach me that my rage is as useless as my tears.
prove to me beyond all doubt
that there is no justice in the world.
you are a wealthy american corporation
and I am a gas victim of bhopal.
When grief turns to anger, when your rage is as useless as your tears, when
those in power become blind, deaf and dumb in your presence, when the rest of
the world has forgotten you, what are you to do? Must you put away your anger,
choke back your bitterness, and cultivate patience, in the hope that justice
will eventually prevail? The ill and pain-wracked survivors of "that
night" have been waiting for seventeen and a half years. And what if the
very government that is supposed to protect you cynically manipulates the law
against you, what use then is the law, with all its guarantees? Must you still
obey it, while your opponents twist it to whatever they please? If the law is
useless, whispers despair, then does it any longer matter if you go outside it?
What else is left?
Answers to this question are seen nightly on our TV screens. But Tara Bai,
Rashida and Sathyu give a different answer to the question posed by the angel of
despair: that of the Mahatma who said, "enter with me into the sufferings,
not only of the people of India but of the whole world. Non-violence is not a
weapon of the weak. It is a weapon of the strongest and bravest."
"Terrorism" is much in the news. But there is another, less well-known
species of terror: that caused by the greed, negligence and ruthlessness of huge
corporations. Why did Carbide, ignoring the advice of its own experts, build its
toxic factory in the middle of densely populated neighbourhoods? Why, in
contravention of its own US safety standards, was such a huge quantity of
methyl-isocyanate, a chemical known to be lethal, stored on site? Why was the
tank that ruptured not being kept, as the safety manual required, at zero
degrees C? Why, on "that night" were the plant's back-up safety
systems, such as the "scrubber", semi-dismantled and not working? Why
did the alarm siren not immediately sound, offering a small chance to those who
heard it?
We know the answers to some of these questions from talking to people who worked
in the plant. The tank had not been refrigerated for some months, in order to
save 500 rupees a day on freon gas. 500 rupees is about £7, or $11. The
"scrubber" was in bits because parts of it had become badly corroded
and needed replacing, but the work had not been done. The alarm siren stayed
silent because it had been switched off. There had been so many leaks of gas at
the plant that the constant hooting had become a nuisance. To other questions we
have as yet no answer. These are the questions that Carbide would have had to
answer in court - if it had ever showed up.
Carbide isn't charged with terrorism. But it might be if more people knew what
the terror in Bhopal was like. Indeed, what happened on "that night"
redefines the word.
Let me tell you about the night of December 2nd/3rd 1984. It happened just after
midnight, the unthinkable thing that had been coming, that journalists and plant
workers alike had predicted. A rumbling in the pipes, the realisation that
something had gone terribly wrong. Panic, then, and the discovery that all the
safety systems were down. Water had got into the giant tank (the thing is the
size of a large locomotive) containing the methyl-isocyanate (MIC). A violent
heat- producing reaction began and as more water poured into the tank the
fiercer grew the reaction. At high temperatures MIC breaks down into other
highly toxic chemicals, including cyanides. The tank was buried in the ground,
sealed under concrete, yet so intolerable was its chemical indigestion that it
burst out of the earth and stood shuddering on end, emitting a stream of gas
into the night. Another stream poured from the half-dismantled
"scrubber", and was caught by the wind and flung towards the crowded
neighbourhoods nearby.
In J.P.Nagar, Oriya Basti, Kainchi Chola, Kazi Camp, most people were at home
sleeping. The gases came into their houses without warning. They woke choking,
with their eyes and mouths burning. Nobody knew what had happened. Then came
shouts of "gas!" and "run away!" and doors began opening,
people tumbling out of their houses. The gas was waiting for them, rolling in
thick clouds along the narrow lanes, which in some places were no more than four
feet wide. The streetlamps were shedding a tobacco-brown light. No insects
whirled about them, they were all already dead. As families picked up their
toddlers and babies and fled, the alleys became narrow stampedes of people and
animals - cows and dogs ran along with their owners - people fell and were
trampled, children were wrenched out of their mothers' arms and lost, never
found again.
8,000 people died very horribly, with piss and
shit running down their legs, their eyeballs white slits where the gases had
bleached them. The gases stripped the linings from their lungs, and they drowned
in their own fluids. Others had sudden convulsions and dropped in the street.
The city was full of dead bodies. Nobody knows exactly how many died, but we can
form an idea because 7,000 burial shrouds were bought over the next three days.
This does not take into account the hundreds of people who were unaccounted for,
or the families who had no-one left to bury or cremate them. In the railway
station, a whole tribe of gypsies camped on one of the further platforms
perished to the last soul. Not one of their names is known.
By morning the hospitals were full of desperately ill people, coughing up their
lungs, many unable to see. The doctors did not know how to treat them, since
nobody knew what exactly what had poisoned them, and Carbide was not saying. It
is a fair certainty that cyanide was involved, the antidote to which, sodium
thiosulphate, was available. Lives which could have been saved were lost. But
the survivors were soon to regard those who had died as the lucky ones. Though
none of them knew it, their immediate suffering was only the beginning. Half a
million people were injured by breathing the gases, many were left so badly
disabled that they would never work again. Their families became destitute,
reduced to beggary - some of the worlds poorest people destituted by one of the
world's richest corporations. Surely there'd be hell to pay. Someone's head
would surely roll. The compensation, and the responsibility of caring, for the
rest of their lives, for the injured would surely empty even Carbide's huge
coffers. You'd think so, wouldn't you?
On "that night" in Bhopal, three times as many people died as were
killed in New York on September 11th. The Bhopalis were just as innocent and
unsuspecting as the office workers whose lives ended so tragically in the Twin
Towers. They had done nothing to deserve such a terrible fate. But no crusade
was launched, no rock concert was staged for their benefit, no ageing rock stars
queued on stage to sing songs about
"freedom". After September 11, there was a massive appeal for
donations, leading to compensation payments of over $1,000,000 to relatives of
the victims in recognition of the stress they had suffered. The families of
Bhopal's dead were paid $1250 per corpse. Of the injured, those who have
received anything at all, got on average just $500. During the Exxon Valdez
disaster, Alaskan sea-otters were kept glossy by feeding them fresh lobster at
the cost of $500 per day per otter. "The life of an Indian citizen in
Bhopal," commented the Times of India, "is clearly much cheaper than
that of a sea otter in America".
Immediately after the disaster, the sick and dazed Bhopalis were told that they
were going to become rich. They were promised this by important foreign lawyers
who arrived in droves from New York, waving forms at grief-stricken people who,
in many cases could not read or write, and whose scrawled Xs gave these
ambulance-chasers authority to file claims on their behalf and keep anything up
to 50% of the winnings. In order to protect the gas-survivors, who were however
not consulted, the Indian government stepped in and passed an Act establishing
itself as sole plaintiff on their behalf. Seemed like a good thing at the time.
Carbide, afraid of being bankrupted by US-scale damages, sought a ruling that as
the "accident" had happened in India, any case arising out of it
should be heard by Indian courts. Mr Justice Keenan, sitting in the Lower
Manhatten District Court, found in Carbide's favour, on condition that the
company agreed to accept and abide by all rulings and requirements of Indian
courts. The company however had no intention of coming to court.
When the first case opened in Bhopal, the initial procedural hearings were
enlivened by Carbide's lawyers who threatened to call every single person
injured by their clients' gases to the witness stand and suggested the court
allow one day for the cross-examination to each. As there were more than 500,000
people in that category, this meant that the court would have to set aside half
a million days. In other words, if the testimony had begun being taken in the
declining days of the Roman empire, (359 AD, in the reign of the Emperor Julian)
it would just about be coming to its end. The company was eventually ordered to
pay "interim compensation" of Rs 250 crores. (About £35 million.)
Carbide, which on its websites still shamelessly professes its
"anguish" at what had happened, contested even this. Shortly
afterwards it gleefully announced that it had a reached a full and final
settlement with the Indian government, for the sum of $470 million. So
ludicrously low was this settlement that when the news was announced on Wall
Street, Carbide's stock actually JUMPED two points.
This settlement, which was bitterly opposed by gas survivors and condemned by
every newspaper in India, also extinguished any criminal charges against the
company. The Indian Supreme Court, however, reinstated the criminal case and it
was these new proceedings that Warren Anderson and Carbide ignored for 11 years,
in total disregard of the promise they had made to the trusting Justice Keenan.
How did the gas sufferers spend the years of waiting? I found out one day, ten
summers ago, when a mysterious Indian man phoned and said he would like to meet
me. I turned up at Hayward's Heath station to collect him, late as usual, and
there waiting for me was Sathyu. He was dressed in a long Indian kurta and had a
turban wound round his head, very exotic for East Sussex. Sathyu knew of the
work I'd done raising money for Amnesty International and Kurdish refugees and
asked me to help him set up a clinic to provide free medical care for the
gas-victims in Bhopal. Like most people, I had heard of the Bhopal gas disaster
but assumed that surely everything that could have been done must already have
been done.
But as he talked, a grand summer's day in a garden in the heart of the Sussex
weald was gradually overcast by shadows of "that night". Sathyu
conjured for me a vision of the Bhopal districts near the factory, where people
(this was eight years later) were still wracked by breathlessness, blurred
vision, aching limbs and backs; where limbs went in and out of numbness; where
there were monstrous births; where children suffered from recurrent fevers and
coughs that shook their bodies with ceasing; where even young adults were
developing cataracts and felt constantly exhausted, with no appetite either for
food or forlife; where Carbide's gases added depression and anxiety to their
already hard lives.
Later, once our free Sambhavna Clinic was up and running, our doctors began to
see evidence of a menstrual chaos among the affected population. Girls who had
been babies, or in the womb at the time of the gas, were now coming to puberty.
Some were not menstruating at all, or had a period only once in three months,
while others were bleeding three times a month. No work was being done on this.
It was an unacknowledged epidemic. Other things, too, were being missed. A
report from the Clinic observed, "The alarming rise in cancers,
tuberculosis, reproductive system problems and other problems such as growth
retardation among children born after the disaster remain undocumented."
Today the situation is not much better. You can work out for yourself what kind
of relief $500 must have been able to provide over seventeen and half years. I
make it about 7 cents a day. Well it would buy you a cup of tea.
Despite everything the hope always remained that one day Carbide - which was
responsible not only for the disaster but for the continuing health holocaust -
would be made to answer in court for its actions. But this has never happened.
Because of its illegal refusal to appear before the Bhopal court, Carbide has
never yet had to face hostile cross-examination about the decisions and actions
that caused the world's worst ever industrial disaster. The testimony of
survivors and workers at the plant remains unheard. To this day the company has
never revealed the composition of the gases that leaked, claiming that this
information is a "trade secret", which means that doctors are still in
the dark. Nor, although Carbide is known to have conducted at least 15 animal
and human studies on the effects of methyl isocyanate, has it ever responded to
medical requests to share its data.
See nowt, hear nowt, say nowt, do nowt - it seems to have been the strategy not
just of the company but of every power which could have done something to help
in Bhopal. An extradition treaty exists between India and the US, but successive
Indian governments failed to press for its use against Warren Anderson who,
incidentally, has vanished from his home in St Petersburg, Florida and,
according to elite US law enforcement agencies, just cannot be found anywhere.
Becoming invisible is a talent he clearly shares with that other fugitive from
justice, Osama bin Laden. The perpetrators of the world's worst act of terrorism
and the world's worst industrial massacre are both on the lam from justice, yet
to my knowledge, no British Prime Minister has yet fluttered round the world to
create a coalition against corporate terror. No US President has threatened to
bomb Florida into the stone age unless it reveals where Anderson is hiding, or
stood blinking in front of the TV cameras to tell the world that he would never
rest until those responsible for this devastating horror were brought to
justice. Osama and Warren, the terror twins, their whereabouts remain a mystery
to this day.
Had Anderson been cross-examined in court, it would have emerged that in the run
up to the disaster he and his board had demanded a programme of ruthless budget
cuts in their Indian factory. This is very well shown by Dominique Lapierre and
Xavier Moro in their new book "Five Past Midnight in Bhopal", which
has just been published in the UK and US and which presents a damning mountain
of evidence. The money-saving drive was prompted by directives from US head
office (Carbide owned a 51% controlling stake of Union Carbide India Ltd). It
involved a drastic reduction in the number of safety staff, cutting the duration
of staff safety training from six months to two weeks, turning a blind eye to
the storage of unsafe amounts of MIC, ignoring the shocked reports of their own
visiting American engineers. On the witness stand, Anderson would have had to
explain why his company had endangered the lives of thousands of people to save
£7 a day on freon gas.
So long as there is a criminal suit pending against Carbide in the Bhopal court,
the hope of re-opening the issue of compensation remains alive. Meanwhile,
however, evidence is accumulating of a second, slower, but no less lethal
holocaust-
Early last year my daughter Tara and I were staying with Sathyu in Bhopal.
Dominique too was in town and had obtained permission for us all to visit
Carbide's derelict factory. At about 8am on the morning of our intended visit,
Sathyu's building began rocking from end to end. We had to go outside, but there
was time to grab our cups of tea (7 cents is 7 cents). We didn't know it, but
we'd just felt the edge of the huge earthquake that devastated Gujerat. At the
time we took it for a minor tremor and soon forgot about it. The factory was so
surreal it wiped everything else from our minds.
It is hard to describe the impact of the place. It is vast: acre upon acre of
tall, heat-bleached grass out which rear the rusting skeletons of various
chemical plants. In the grounds are many small trees. The bel fruit is
especially delicious, according to neighbourhood children, who often climb in
over the wall, but I wouldn't want to eat it. Was it our imagination, or were
there no birds? Isn't this what they say about Auschwitz? The abandoned control
room is like a set from a Hollywood disaster flick. Its floor is still littered
with Carbide papers and memoranda from seventeen and a half years ago. Tara
(daughter Tara, no relation to Tara Bai the hunger-striker) carefully
photographed the safety notices that still hang on the walls, bearing
hand-lettered instructions in best Hinglish about what to do in the unlikely
event of a gas leak. The dial which recorded the outlandish pressure in the MIC
tank is still jammed on overload. Beneath one installation fat globs of mercury
lie on the ground, spilled before the disaster. Here and there we came across
piles of reddish-brown rocks, some the size of boulders. "Be careful with
your cigarette," one of our party was admonished. "Those are not
rocks, they are lumps of Sevin, which has a low ignition point. If it catches
light, it will release MIC."
Some months after our visit, the Sevin did catch light. A carelessly tossed away
cigarette set fire to the grass and once again there were stinging eyes and
noses and lungs and panic in the bastis (poor neighbourhoods). Mercifully this
time, nobody died. But the poor who live near the factory are being poisoned in
any case. Each rainy season, the abandoned chemicals, among them heavy metals
and organophosphates, leach into the ground and contaminate the water table. The
inhabitants of local bastis are forced to drink this poisoned water, with
calamitous consequences for their health. People who have moved into these
places years after the disaster are demonstrating similar symptoms to the gas
survivors.
While I have been labouring over this email, Dominique, with characteristic
energy has already written several letters and articles. In one of them he
describes what it was like to drink a glass of water from an area near the
factory. "I recently wanted to reckon the aggressiveness of this
pollution by drinking half a glass of the water of one of those wells. My
mouth, my throat, my tongue instantly got on fire, while my arms and legs
suffered an immediate skin rash. This was the simple manifestation of what
men, women and children have to endure daily."
Who should be held to account for this second holocaust, which is not covered by
the original criminal charges, nor by the infamous "settlement"? Can
anyone have the slightest doubt that Union Carbide needs to be brought to court?
Of course Carbide no longer exists. It has been subsumed into Dow. But Dow has
assumed liability for various Carbide misdemeanours in the US. Why not in India?
Worthless though their lives may be, compared to those of Alaskan sea-otters,
don't Indians too deserve justice?
"We'll fight," says Tara Bai, youngest of the three hunger- strikers,
"till justice is delivered. In fact, with every passing day, our fight
grows stronger. After all, we have the power of being right with us." Tara
Bai is thirty-six years old. She was nineteen when the gas leaked, and three
months pregnant. The gas burnt her lungs as she fled the lethal cloud. She lost
her baby, and was told that she could never conceive again. She is partially
blind, has chronic breathing difficulties and has been diagnosed with
neurological problems. By last Saturday, eight days into the hunger strike, her
blood sugar level had dropped to 38. She is under close observation by doctors.
Rashida Bi is forty-six and has lost five gas-exposed members of her family to
cancers. Left permanently semi-blind by Carbide's gases, she leads one of the
most active survivors' organizations. This hunger-strike is not the first time
she has undertaken an ordeal. In Bhopal she is legendary for having once led
several hundred women and children on a month-long march to Delhi. When we were
in Bhopal, Tara and I met her and she described how they had walked, day after
day, through the heat, often thirsty, sleeping at night in forests full of
snakes and scorpions and animals as hungry as they were. They met with great
kindness from people along the way, who gave them food and water from their
wells. When they reached Delhi and Parliament, they stood in the very street
where the hunger-strike is now happening, and waited. And waited. And waited. No
one came out to receive their petition. The politicians did not want to know.
Plus ca change. A week into the hunger-strike, Rashida's blood pressure had
soared and according to the doctor present, she was showing signs of starvation
On July 17th, in the Bhopal court will hear the application to dilute the
criminal charges against Warren Anderson and his merry men. If the application
is granted, the charge will be reduced from "culpable homicide", which
is an extraditable offence, to "negligence", which is not. Mr
Anderson, if he can ever be found, will probably get off with a fine, and the
gas-survivors will once again have been shafted. The hearing is on July 17th and
it is already the small hours of the 10th here in Britain. In a few hours we
will begin a vigil and a one-day fast outside the Indian High Commission in
London. In Delhi the hunger-strikers are into their twelfth day without food.
We have one week in which to persuade the Indian government to change its mind.
Please do everything in your power to help. Some ideas are given on http://www.corpwatchindia.org
where there is an electronic petition you can sign. Attached to this email, I'll
also include a list of other things that can be done, like sending faxes to your
nearest Indian embassy or high commission.
Most of all, I urge you to forward this message to all your friends, and to
anyone you think of who might be able to help. Unlike Dow-Carbide, we have no
money for advertisements or PR companies. Hopefully our message will travel by
people-power from one network of friends to another. And if everyone who
receives it sends a fax, or an email, the Indian government will be swamped by
the protest. Please make it happen.
I want to end with a few words about my friend Sathyu. A brilliant metallurgical
engineer (his old professor at Varanasi University told one of our friends that
Sathyu was the best student he'd ever had), he gave up everything to help the
gas-affected of Bhopal. He came to the city the day after the disaster and has
stayed ever since. When I first knew him, he was living in a tiny room in one of
the city's most squalid districts. Like his neighbours he did not have enough to
eat and was drinking polluted water. He had had TB, and was weak, but still
continued put in long exhausting days of work. He is probably the most tireless
person I have ever known.
"Non-violence," said Gandhiji, "is a more active and real fight
against wickedness than retaliation whose very nature is to increase
wickedness." Sathyu has had some pretty weird encounters with
"wickedness". Check http://www.indiatogether.org/opinions/sarangi.htm
for his account of being visited in jail in Houston, Texas by an executive of
Union Carbide, who'd had him arrested the day before for distributing leaflets
about Bhopal at its AGM. "Where you and I have eyes," wrote Sathyu,
"he had frozen cubes."
I wrote about him in my book "The Cybergypsies" which (after
describing a scene in which Sathyu and I attempted to hijack an advertising
awards ceremony, in order to put out a message about Bhopal to the watching TV
cameras) concludes with these words:
"During my wanderings in worlds, real and unreal, I have often come into
currents of pure evil, but I have also known the touch of great goodness. I
think of M, unselfish to the point of self-destruction, searching for someone
upon whom he could lavish his love. I remember Alastair McIntosh blowing his
conch barefoot in the April slush, and how he once came home and narrated
highland yarns to our saucer-eyed children, and played tunes on a penny whistle.
But most of all I think of Sathyu, who lived in a slum, thanking the champagne
drinkers at the Grosvenor House."
*
WHAT YOU CAN DO TO HELP US, BY RASHIDA, TARA BAI AND SATHYU
On 10 July, 2002, a massive rally is planned in New Delhi with the
participation of mass organisations, including trade unions and public
interest groups. We appeal to you to set aside this day for solidarity
actions in your city.
WHAT YOU CAN DO ON 10 JULY 2002 AND THEREAFTER
(WHATEVER YOU DO, Please inform us by emailing nity68@vsnl.com
and admin@del3.vsnl.net.in)
1. Organise a 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. hunger strike at a prominent location in
your city or at the Indian embassy in your city if there is one. Issue a
press statement incorporating the key demands of the Bhopal survivors. You
can download the demands from the Take Action section of www.corpwatchindia.org.
2. Organise a simple demo outside the Indian embassy with banners that say
"Justice for Bhopal. Extradite Warren Anderson. Distribute
compensation money to survivors." Hand over a petition with demands
to the Ambassador.
3. Organise candle-light vigils or other peaceful gatherings.
4. Call the Indian embassy in your city to echo the demands of the
survivors. Find it in this list: http://www.thokalath.com/embassy/index.php
If you live in the US, fax the Indian embassy or your nearest consulate,
from this list:
http://www.thokalath.com/embassy/index.php#us
5. Call the Ministry of Chemicals (India Tel: +91 11 3381573). Ask to
speak to the Minister and demand that the Ministry should rescind its
decision to distribute the survivors' compensation money to the 20
non-gas-affected wards, and instead move towards rapid and just
compensation of survivors in the 36 gas-affected wards of Bhopal.
6. Call the Ministry of Home (India Tel: +91 11 378.23.97). Ask to
speak to the Minister and demand that the Ministry should direct the
Central Bureau of Investigation to withdraw its application that the
charges against Warren Anderson be diluted from homicide to negligence.
Demand that Warren Anderson and Union Carbide representatives be
extradited and made to face trial in India for their crimes against the
people of Bhopal.
7. Write letters to the editor emphasising the following points:
a) The Government of India is complicit in the crimes against the people
of Bhopal by shielding the accused - Union Carbide and its new owner Dow
Chemicals - from the pending criminal liabilities in the Indian courts.
This is a travesty of justice and a sell-out of the interests of the
victims of the world's worst industrial disaster.
b) Warren Anderson and Dow Chemicals, Union Carbide's new owner, have to
face trial in India for their complicity in the 1984 Bhopal gas disaster
which has claimed more than 20,000 lives and left 150,000 with serious
health effects.
c) The Central Bureau of Investigation should withdraw its application to
dilute charges against Warren Anderson from homicide to negligence and
instead move to quickly extradite Anderson;
d) The Ministry of Chemicals should rescind its order to distribute the
compensation money, that rightfully belongs to the survivors, among 20
non-gas-affected wards. Instead, the Government should arrange to
distribute the money to the victims of the disaster, 94 percent of whom
have till date received a meagre Rs. 25,000 ($500) for lifelong health
impacts and lost livelihoods.
You can send these letters to:
feedback@hindustantimes.com
(Hindustan Times)
toieditor_delhi@indiatimes.com
(Times of India)
letters@thehindu.co.in (The
Hindu)
http://www.expressindia.com/about/feedback.html
(Indian Express)
8. Join the fax action directed towards the Indian Government at http://www.corpwatchindia.org/action/PAA.jsp?articleid=1843
9. Fax a letter to your local Indian Ambassador or High Commissioner,
along the lines suggested in point 7. Find the number in this list: http://www.thokalath.com/embassy/index.php
If you live in the US, use this list:
http://www.thokalath.com/embassy/index.php#us
10. Email the Indian Prime Minister and Home Minister directly. Note,
emails are more likely to be lost in cyberspace or deleted than faxes.
Indian Prime Minister: http://pmindia.nic.in/writetous.htm
Home Affairs Minister: mhaweb@mhant.delhi.nic.in
Sincerely,
Rashida Bi, Bhopal Gas Peedit Mahila Stationery Karmachari Sangh
Tara Bai, Gas Peedit Nirashrit Morcha, Bhopal
Satinath Sarangi, Bhopal Group for Information and Action
For more information, contact:
The National Campaign for Justice in Bhopal
B14, Second Floor, Gulmohar Park, New Delhi 110 049.
Tel: +91-11-656.17.43 / +91-11-651.48.47
nity68@vsnl.com and/or
admin@del3.vsnl.net.in
*
NOTE: JUST Response
received this appeal from
Indra Sinha on July 10 2002.
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