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Aftershocks
By Harsh Sethi
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As we celebrate another Republic Day it might be worthwhile to spare a thought for the many ways in which our power elite nobs our weakest citizens of the little they have.
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THE FIRST Republic Day of the new millennium did not turn out auspicious. Early that morning, a massive earthquake hit Kutch, more or less completely destroying the towns of Bhuj, Anjar, Rapar and Bachau. It also caused extensive damage in other regions of Gujarat, including the far less focussed upon parts of the countryside.
Much has been written about the scale of devastation, the resilience of the Gujarati people, and how the entire country, including the NRIs, came forward to organise relief. Not just the state, but NGOs, religious organisations, even corporates pitched in to contribute their mite. This was, we were informed, Indian civil society at its best, a far cry from the situation obtaining in cyclone-devastated Orissa. Kutch dominated news for a long time, helped not doubt by the high-profile visit of the former U.S. President, Bill Clinton.
It does bear reiteration that this hour of tragedy was also Gujarat's finest hour, the pride in the State's ability to recover well-captured in the many advertisements the Chief Minister, Narendra Modi, has released on the first anniversary of the event. And yet, away from the spotlight, there are processes under way that not only undermine this self-congratulatory image but bring to the surface the flawed working of our democracy.
"Aftershocks", an hour long documentary by Rakesh Sharma, captures brilliantly the "business as usual" philosophy of our elites, both corporate and political. The story focusses on two small villages, Julrai and Umarsar, in Lakhpat taluka of Bhuj district, in the westernmost tip of Gujarat along the coast and the India-Pakistan border. Both villages, several hundred years old, were almost completely destroyed during the quake. Julrai is a Rabari village while a majority of Umarsar's residents are Durbars (Rajputs).
In itself, there is nothing unique about these villages except that they sit atop significant lignite reserves. This makes them fair game for the mining and local industrial lobby active in the area, most of all the Gujarat Mineral Development Corporation, a public sector enterprise which enjoys monopoly rights on mineral resources in the region.
The quake provided a "god-sent" opportunity to initiate a process of acquisition of the villages. After all, both were severely damaged and thus vulnerable to the alluring prospects painted by the GMDC. Soon after the tragedy, officials of the corporation landed in the villages with plans of acquisition, promising in return relocation to new built-up villages, cash compensation and even fresh farm lands. All that the villagers were expected to do was to sign off any rights they had to their traditional villages and ancestral lands.
None of this is particularly unusual. Corporations, including those in the public sector, routinely look around for prospects to expand their business. Lignite is a valuable resource, more so in rapidly industrialising, power-hungry Gujarat. The GMDC is a profitable concern, keen on further buttressing its bottom line. As a company earmarked for disinvestment both to FIIs and local corporates, there is a measure of urgency associated with firming up its reserves.
As the documentary unfolds, we learn that everyone concerned followed the due process. The GMDC staff along with local taluk and panchayat officials convened a gram sabha and put forward their proposal. Everything, they said, would be done once the villagers agreed to shift. And this must be done both legally and democratically, after the villagers had discussed and considered the proposal, and voted on it. There was, of course, a catch. Since the villages had been earmarked for acquisition, no relief and rehabilitation work would be carried out on the original site. Between the promises of a glorious future and the uncertainly associated with sticking onto their original lands, it is not surprising that a majority of the villagers elected to move. This despite the fact that neither the GMDC nor the Government officials ever gave any of their assurances in writing.
This remains a great mystery. The GMDC, to the villagers, is no unknown entity. The impact of its mining operations on the area — ecological and social — are apparent, as is the lifestyle of those whose villages were acquired earlier and who now work as unskilled labour in the open cast mines and live in shanty towns close to the place of work. And yet, despite this foreknowledge, the villagers chose to sign up.
Some answers are available in the differing reactions of the two villages. In Umarsar, the upper caste Durbars, more so their sarpanch, were more believing of the promises. Not only because of their caste status, or the fact that they were more integrated into the modern economy, but because of their "connections" with the GMDC. "After all", as the sarpanch remarked, "the project officer is a Durbar. He will take full care of us." As for the Rabaris, they probably had little choice. Not only are they low caste and class with little clout where it matters, as one-time nomads they are seen as having no roots anywhere and thus fair game to be kicked around.
As the documentary ends, its final shots taken only last month, it becomes clear that neither set of villagers got anything. The Durbars, probably because their "connection" was transferred out, were in the end no better off than the Rabaris, both those who moved out to the new location and those who elected to stay back. What, however, is extremely disturbing is that despite having faced the wrath of the quake, no relief whatsoever was made available to the Rabaris. Worse, since Julrai had been marked for acquisition, and the villagers had signed off all their rights, the village, for all official purposes had ceased to exist. Not only relief, the village has no water, no electricity, no postal services. The same is the case with the new settlement, despite promises.
There is little unusual about the story, repeated endlessly as we, in the process of urbanisation and industrialisation, conquer new frontiers and displace more people. And if the villagers, without protest and struggle, willingly fall prey to rhetorical promises, who is to complain. The fact that a calamity served as a pretext for this process may appear unseemly, possibly cruel, but then, good business involves exploiting every opportunity.
It is a side issue that even had the GMDC done all that it promised to do — adequately resettle and rehabilitate the villagers on the new sites — it would have made little difference to its bottom line. But these are competitive times with cheaper lignite from China eroding the GMDC's market share. With the company in line for disinvestment, what is important is that its balance-sheet appears healthy. That, after all, is what will determine its share value on the stock exchange. A messy acquisition might scare off potential buyers.
As we celebrate another Republic Day, it might be worthwhile to spare a thought for the many questions "Aftershocks" raises. Above all, for the many ways in which our power elite robs our weakest citizens of the little they have. A fitting epitaph for our democratic Republic.
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