गेली तीस वर्षे अंधारात असलेल्या औरंगाबाद जिल्ह्यातील बरड वस्तीवर अखेर मॅक्स महाराष्ट्राच्या बातमीनंतर तीस वर्षांनी वीज आली आहे. यावेळी गावकऱ्यांनी घरासमोर रांगोळी काढत ,घरावर गुढ्या उभारून आनंद साजरा केला.
जगप्रसिद्ध अजिंठा लेणीपासून अवघ्या दोन किलोमीटरच्या अंतरावर असलेल्या बरड वस्तीवर 200 पेक्षा जास्त लोकं राहतात. मात्र गेली तीस वर्षे झाली ही वस्ती अंधारात होती. त्यामुळे येथील गावकऱ्यांना मोठ्या अडचणीचा सामना करावा लागत होता. मुलांना रात्रीचा अभ्यास करण्यात अडचणी येत होत्या, तर अनेकांना सर्प चावल्याने आपला जीव गमवावे लागले. त्यामुळे या लोकांचं जीवन अंधारमय झालं होतं.
बरड वस्तीची व्यथा मॅक्स महाराष्ट्राने सर्वांसमोर आणली, त्यांचं दुःख प्रशासनापर्यंत पोहचवण्यासाठी प्रयत्न केला. त्यानंतर प्रशासकीय यंत्रणा खडबडून जागी झाली आणि अवघ्या 10-15 दिवसात बरड वस्तीवर वीज आली. यावेळी गावकऱ्यांनी मॅक्स महाराष्ट्राचं आभार मानत आमचे प्रतिनिधीचं सत्कार ही केला.
TB is also a highly stigmatised disease making it very difficult for patients enduring treatment. In this episode, we look at how the stigma makes it worse for women TB patients, a marginalised group. We hear the voices of women who express how they feel as TB patients and survivors, and the disease has affected their life significantly.
On the afternoon of 16 October, the Delhi Police detained and assaulted Ahan Penkar, a 24-year-old staffer of The Caravan, while he was reporting in north Delhi. Ajay Kumar, the assistant commissioner of police of Model Town, kicked and slapped Penkar inside the Model Town police station premises. Penkar had repeatedly told the police that he was a journalist and prominently displayed his press card.
The police forcibly took Penkar’s phone from him and deleted all the photos and videos he had recorded while reporting. Penkar was detained for nearly four hours. In the assault, he sustained injuries on his nose, shoulder, back and ankle.
Penkar was reporting on a protest concerning the alleged rape and murder of a Dalit teenager in north Delhi. Students and activists had gathered outside the Model Town police station to demand the registration of a first-information report in the case, against a complaint by her relative. In early October, the 14-year-old had been discovered dead in the home at which she was employed as a domestic worker. The police had ruled her death a suicide, but the family suspects that she had been raped and murdered by the employer.
On 16 October, Penkar arrived at the Model Town police station at around 2.45 pm to report on a protest by a small crowd of about thirty people gathered outside it, including around ten members of the teenager’s family. At the time, some members of the crowd had gone inside the station to demand that an FIR be registered immediately. When the police refused to file the report, the small crowd began to raise slogans condemning the Delhi Police.
Around thirty minutes after he had reached, Penkar was speaking to the deceased teenager’s aunt when between ten and 15 police officials, both men and women, came out of the station. They asked the protestors to disperse. When the gathered crowd refused to leave and repeated its demand for an FIR, the police officials started taking protesters and the teenager’s family members inside the station. Most of the police personnel had not donned their uniform, making it difficult for the crowd to learn their name or rank.
“I was recording the incident on my phone in one hand, with my press card of The Caravan clearly held out for the police to see on my other hand,” Penkar said. “From this point onwards, the press card never entered my wallet again, I showed it every chance I could.”
With his press card prominently displayed, Penkar recorded videos of the police taking the protestors inside the station. Then, a plain-clothes official spotted him, and pointed him out to the ACP, Ajay Kumar, who was overseeing the police personnel’s actions. Kumar ordered the personnel to take Penkar inside as well. “Isko bhi dekh lenge,” Kumar said—we will show him also. Police officials “grabbed my trousers from the back, my shirt from the front, and dragged me,” Penkar recalled. “They took my phone immediately, even before we had made it inside … The whole time, I was yelling, ‘I am a journalist, I work for The Caravan.’”
The police personnel dragged Penkar and several others to a room inside the station, which had a desk, some chairs, and a small bed. The five young men—Penkar and four Delhi University students who were among those protesting—were made to sit on the floor. Other protestors were detained as well, in other parts of the police station. During the next several hours, at least five police personnel as well as the ACP entered the room and beat up the young men. At least ten police personnel went in and out of the room, constantly verbally assaulting, threatening and deriding the young men.
At first, Ajay Kumar, the ACP, entered the room. “He was angry,” Penkar said. “He first showed us a rod and threatened to beat us with it. But then he kept it aside and thrashed us himself instead.”
The ACP first slapped Penkar, then kicked him on his thighs and his face. “I fell completely to the ground, and then he tried to pin me down, and kicked my back and shoulders.” Penkar repeatedly told the ACP and the police officers in the room that he was from the media. “There was no doubt about that, even when I was being beaten up, they knew I was from the media,” he said. Firoz Alam, a 27-year-old student who was being kept in the same room as Penkar, confirmed this. Alam said, “They told him, ‘Saale tereko editor banate hain, teri report chapwate hain’”—We will make an editor out of you, we will publish your report.
After beating Penkar, Kumar beat each of the four students as well. Alam, a graduate student in Delhi University’s history department, said, “He hit me with his boot, his elbow, he beat us a lot.” Alam said he had sustained a shoulder injury from the beating.
Prabhakar, a 24-year-old student who was among the four being held in the same room as Penkar, also said he was brutally beaten by Kumar. “He beat me on my chest with his boot and on my back,” he said. “He pinned me down, he put his boot on my throat, he abused me … He used such horrible abuses that I cannot even tell you over the phone.” Prabhakar said the ACP threatened him. “When he found out I was from Allahabad, he said, ‘Tujhe wahan ke gundon se pitwa dunga’”—I’ll get you beaten up by goons there.
Other police officials participated in the assault and beatings as well. “They kept trying to threaten and intimidate us,” Penkar said. “They kept saying, ‘Your lives are over. We will charge you, there will be an FIR, you will be arrested.’” The police officials constantly used profanity against the five men held in the room. One police official told them, “Why do you all keep doing this? Tumhe nahi pata hai ki desh badal gaya hai?”—Don’t you know the country has changed?
At one point, a plain-clothes police official came into the room with Penkar’s phone, which he placed on the desk. He asked Penkar several times to unlock the phone, but Penkar refused to do so. The official then returned with another man, whom the police personnel were referring to as an “inspector.” The inspector, also in plain clothes, entered the room and said, “Where is the kid? I’ll make him piss his pants.” He threatened and intimidated Penkar into unlocking his phone. The police officials then deleted the images of the protest and the video material that Penkar had collected while reporting. “They checked the bin on my gallery, and deleted it from there, and then even checked Google drive to delete it from there,” Penkar said.
The police did not return Penkar’s phone to him until later. “I kept telling them, ‘I need to call my editors, I need to call my family,’ but they didn’t listen,” he said. “They told me, ‘You didn’t listen to us, why should we listen to you?’” The police officials also collected Penkar’s identity cards from his wallet and his press card and kept these with them for some time. When Penkar asked for the cards to be returned, the police officials refused, saying the cards had been “seized.” “They were torturing us, first telling us that they were going to let us go, and then saying, ‘The commissioner wants to keep you overnight,’” Penkar said, referring to Delhi’s commissioner of police.
At close to 7 pm, the police officials finally let Penkar go. The ordeal was “terrifying,” Penkar said. “I was shaking the entire time.” The manner in which the police threatened and intimidated them, Alam said, “felt like we were some big criminals, like they show in films.” Kumar threatened the five men, Penkar and Alam said. He told them, “Don’t let me see your faces around here again.”
Penkar said that he incessantly reminded the police that he was a journalist who was only doing his job. “I told them, ‘I’m a reporter, why am I here?’” he said. But the police officials did not seem to care. “I thought my get-out card was that I was a journalist, but it did not work.”
This is the second assault on staffers of The Caravan in recent months. On 11 August, three journalists working with The Caravan—Shahid Tantray, Prabhjit Singh and a woman journalist—were beaten, subjected to communal slurs, threatened with murder, and sexually harassed, while reporting in Subhash Mohalla, in northeast Delhi’s North Ghonda neighbourhood. The journalists were following up on a report they had published a couple of days earlier, on accusations of sexual assault against Delhi Police officials by a Muslim woman who was a complainant in the Delhi violence. The Caravan has been reporting consistently on the Delhi Police’s complicity in the communal violence that swept the northeast part of the city in February this year, and killed at least 53 people.
Penkar has sustained visible injuries on his nose, his back, his shoulder and has pain in his ankle, where Kumar kicked him. After he was let out of the police station, Penkar visited the Babu Jagjivan Ram Memorial Hospital in Delhi to file a medico-legal case. During the examination, a plain-clothes officer who was present at the hospital’s casualty section made sure to oversee the process and direct the doctor’s actions. The doctor did not take Penkar’s vitals, such as blood pressure and pulse, even though he noted these figures on the chart.
Penkar has filed a detailed complaint about the assault with SN Shrivastava, Delhi’s commissioner of police, seeking action against Kumar and other police officials under sections 323, 342, and 506 (II) of the Indian Penal Code—relating to voluntarily causing hurt, wrongful confinement, and criminal intimidation. He wrote to the commissioner: “It is shameful and abhorrent that this is the way the Delhi Police treats journalists.”
When contacted, Ajay Kumar said he is not authorised to speak to the media and asked us to contact Vijayanta Arya, the deputy commissioner of police for Delhi’s North West district. Arya denied that the police was aware of Penkar’s identity as a journalist. “Ten of the protestors were detained, he was one of them,” she said. “At no point did he mention to the police that he was from the press, he was not holding any ID or any other way by which the police could have known.” Arya also denied the fact that the police took Penkar’s ID cards and press cards inside the station. “No such thing happened at the police station,” she said. To one counter question, Arya said, “You are asking for my version, no? So I’m giving you my version.”
When asked about the visible injuries on Penkar’s person and the threats by the police which confirmed that they knew Penkar was a journalist, she said, “We are looking into it.” About Penkar’s detailed complaint to the commissioner, she said, “We are looking into that as well.” SN Shrivastava, Delhi’s commissioner of police, refused to comment on the incident over the phone and cut the call. A subsequent message and call to him went unanswered.
The farmers’ agitation against the Narendra Modi government’s agriculture legislation is getting bigger with those protesting also receiving political backing. However, a look at the history of agricultural protests in independent India shows that the benefits of such struggles aren’t always reaped by all sections of the farming community— protests have remained largely ineffective to usher in meaningful policy changes. Even the most popular uprisings of the 1980s led by Bharatiya Kisan Union have not been very effective as they furthered only the interest of large farmers, with no agenda for the small farmers and labourers
The farmers’ march from Nashik to Mumbai in March 2018 was triggered by large scale destruction of crops and improper implementation of loan waiver schemes. It was organised by All India Kisan Sabha (AIKS), backed by the Communist Party of India (Marxist). The Maharashtra government did promise to fulfil the demands, but they were never executed. In November 2019, All India Kisan Sangharsh Coordination Committee (AIKSCC), a coalition of about 200 farmers’ organisations from across India, organised a movement against the inclusion of agriculture in the Regional Comprehensive Economic Partnership (RCEP) free trade agreement. India ultimately opted out of the RCEP, but more due to the fear of dumping of industrial goods than for its concerns around protecting domestic agricultural producers.
India has a long history of farm movements. Surplus generated out of the Green Revolution made farmers a politically significant group. Chaudhary Charan Singh was one of the first to identify its potential. He formed the Bharatiya Kranti Dal in 1967 and became the leader of Bharatiya Lok Dal in 1974 after merging the former into six other parties that were in opposition to the Indira Gandhi government. He promoted the interest of rich and middle peasants belonging to middle and backward castes. He fought for the abolition of landlordism, consolidation of landholding and resisted taxing agricultural surplus. The farmer leader had also initiated a food procurement scheme in Uttar Pradesh after becoming the chief minister in 1967. This led to significant upward bias in agricultural prices and profitability of agriculture in subsequent decades.
Chaudhary Charan Singh formed the Bharatiya Kisan Union (BKU) in 1978. After his death in 1987, Mahendra Singh Tikait resurrected the organisation in Uttar Pradesh. The BKU took a non-political position, which it continues till now to draw its legitimacy. In the 1980s, the BKU led movements protesting against high power tariffs and erratic supply. The organisation demanded remunerative prices, parity in power rates with other states, and lowering of input costs. The dharna organised by Tikait in Meerut in January 1988 attracted lakhs of peasants, including women. The Uttar Pradesh government relented to the pressure by providing concessions and including the BKU representatives in the Agricultural Prices Commission and local development bodies. Zoya Hasan in her 1989 paper in Economic and Political Weekly says that the benefits given by the government were more rhetorical than real.
The BKU’s movements of the late 1980s, however, had limited success. That’s because it was a movement to protect and promote the interests of surplus producers by maximising only their economic returns, and did not involve the entire farming community. The leadership belonged to the affluent peasant class— teachers, former Army men and retired government officials. The BKU’s demands did not take into account the interests of poor peasants, agricultural labourers and artisans. The organisation had no concern for the minimum wage rate. The poor peasant and agricultural labourers who participated in the movement did so due to their primordial loyalties. As a result, all groups of the farming community did not emerge as a united force.
The farming community in India has failed to organise big movements and pressurise the government to fulfil its demands in recent times. The stimulus package, given by the Narendra Modi government to revive the economy from the shocks of Covid-19, has little to offer to the agricultural sector. The package that accounts for 10.05 per cent of India’s GDP, includes fiscal and monetary measures. Only 7 per cent from this economic package has been dedicated to agricultural and allied sectors even when it is most important to invest in this segment of the economy because the migrant labourers who have returned from big cities would ultimately depend on traditional agriculture till the economy revives.
Among all the segments of the Indian economy, large and medium industries are probably the best organised with multiple chambers of commerce and industry associations and representations in each state. Most sectors are well placed to propagate their interests with help from sector-specific associations or federations to serve their interests. In spite of lower attention to agriculture and very minimal support given to the migrant labourers, there has not been any farmer or labour unrest raising these issues. This reveals the lack of capacity on part of the poor farmers to organise as a group and raise their demands.
The lack of the farming community’s ability to emerge as a united force across the states and farming class is evident in the ongoing protests against the farm legislation as well.
According to the Shanta Kumar Committee report in 2015, only six per cent of the farmers could sell their produce to government agencies. Hence, the ongoing protests serve the interest of only a tiny portion of the farming community.
The protest is intense in states where the value of procurement is higher, and not necessarily in states that have more procurement centres. While more than 60 per cent of the procurement (in terms of value) of wheat takes place in Punjab and Haryana, only 13 per cent procurement centres are from these two states. Bihar, where the APMC Act was repealed in 2006, still accounts for 30 per cent procurement centres, with a miniscule 0.02 per cent procurement, making these centres economically unimportant for the farmers.
Similarly, 25 per cent procurement of paddy takes place in Punjab, where only 3 percent procurement centres are operating. Furthermore, 44 per cent procurement centres are in West Bengal, from where a meagre 4 per cent sourcing takes place. This means that the procurement system benefits only a disproportionately lower percentage of farmers — those with very high value of produce. And many of the procurement centres in certain states are economically unimportant for the farmers. It is very natural that the ongoing protests cannot have an all India presence and cannot cover all sections of the farming community.
The inability of the farmers to sell their produce on time and get remunerative prices is a real problem. Although India has modernised in many areas, the interlocking of product, credit, labour and land markets in rural pockets continues to thrive. We need farm movements that demand facilitation of better linkages with markets that practice fair dealings.
The farm movements in India are plagued by overrepresentation of rich farmers as a political force. They provide the critical mass, without which the protests cannot snowball. However, agitations dominated by a few rich farmers may not solve the problem of the farming community as a whole. The interests of all groups have to be advanced. The richer farmers have to set an agenda for the benefit of the poorer and vulnerable members. The participation of the latter would benefit the former, as well as the whole farming community. The community needs to emerge as a unified force to bargain for and usher in meaningful policy and reforms.
Indranil De is Associate Professor, Institute of Rural Management Anand (IRMA), Anand. Sanjib Pohit is Professor, National Council of Applied Economic Research (NCAER), Delhi. Views are personal.
On August 2020, the Loktak Downstream Hydroelectric Corporation Ltd signed a Power Purchase Agreement (PPA) with the Manipur State Power Distribution Company Ltd (MSPDCL) for 66 MW Loktak Downstream Hydroelectric Project. According to the PPA, the government of Manipur envisaged to purchase the entire power to be generated by the project. The terms and conditions of PPA and cost of per unit power to be purchased by the government remains concealed. For long, the government refused to sign the PPA due to the high cost of the power per unit cost. The NHPC has long mounted pressure on the government to sign the PPA for the project. And the deal was sealed.
The 66 MW Loktak Downstream Hydroelectric Project (LDP) is proposed as a run of the river scheme intending to utilise the tail race discharge from the powerhouse of the 105 MW Loktak Multipurpose Hydroelectric project (Loktak HEP) along with the inflow of the River Leimatak for power generation. A 28 meters high barrage over the Leimatak River near Tousang Khunou Village will be built for the project. The project cost is Rs 867.77 crore as of 2006. The project cost of LDP stands at Rs 1,250 crore by 2015, which increased to Rs 1391.65 crore by December 2018.
After the MoU for the Loktak Downstream Project was signed between the government of Manipur and the NHPC on September 26, 2008, the Loktak Downstream Hydroelectric Corporation Ltd (LDHCL) was formed as a joint venture company of National Hydroelectric Power Corporation (NHPC) with a stake of 74 per cent and the government of Manipur with 26 per cent stake for the implementation of the proposed project. The LDHCL is a subsidiary company of NHPC Ltd.
The 59th meeting of Expert Appraisal Committee (EAC) of the Union Ministry of Environment and Forest and Climate Change on July 20-21, 2012 recommended environmental clearance for the project. Concerns persists that the Stage-1 Forest Clearance has been cleared to divert 211.50 hectares of forest on March 3, 2011 without adhering to Forest Rights Act, 2006. The LDHCL maintained that the total catchment area of the project span over 554 Sq km and the land requirement is 211.50 hectares, including wet paddy fields on river bed of Leimatak River, agriculture land and forest, which affected communities, viz, Rongmei tribe rely for their subsistence.
Delays in PPA signing and JICA is financing Plan
The initiation of the Loktak Downstream Project has been delayed as the NHPC and the Manipur Government failed to sign the power purchase agreement (PPA) till July 2020. The high power tariff of Loktak Downstream Project at around Rs 6.17 per unit as of 2017 was key reason for the refusal of Manipur Government sign the PPA. In 2015, the former Power Minister of the Government of India earlier asked the Government of Manipur and NHPC to reduce the power tariff to Rs 5.30 per unit as Rs 400 crores would be given as grant by Central Government. The NHPC in July 2006 LSO urged the Government of Manipur to relinquish its 12% free power entitlement from the 90 MW Loktak downstream power project to bring down the cost of the power and to optimize the estimated implementation cost and the electricity tariff for the project. In lieu, NHPC proposed that the state government may take up equity in the project.
For long, NHPC has been pressuring the Manipur Government to sign the PPA as soon as possible but the latter contended that the power tariff is higher than admissible. The Chairman and Managing Director (CMD), Mr. Joshi of NHPC again met the Chief Minister of Manipur, Mr N. Biren on 14 December 2017 pursuing for an early commencement of the construction of LDP over the Leimatak River. However, the PPA was finally signed on 31st August 2020, with Manipur Government agreeing to purchase entire power from the project. Earlier, the Government of Meghalaya and Tripura signed PPA on 20 June 2003 and 19 June 2003 for purchase of power from the project.
In February 2018, media reported that the Government of India sought financial assistance from the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), to fund the LDP. On pretext that the power tariff would be too high when the project is funded by the Government of India, an alternative of seeking the necessary fund from JICA has been explored. The Government maintained that if the project is funded by JICA whose interest is exceptionally low, the power tariff can be reduced to Rs 5 per unit. The plan to pursue financing from JICA indeed laid bare the challenges in financing process of LDP.
Public Hearing for the LDP Project
Earlier, an environment Public Hearing for the LDP project was conducted on June 7, 2011 at Longjang (Thangal) village in Tamenglong district, Manipur. The Environment Impact Assessment and Environment Management Plan has not been furnished. The project area falls in high seismic zone V. Civil societies attending the hearing expressed concerns with multifaceted impacts of the project. Representatives of Zeliangrong Students Union, landowner of Toushang Village, Soubung village, Chakanglong Peidai, Taoshang village, etc raised concerns at the hearing. Many villagers who attended the public hearing also expressed support to the project without gaining access to pertinent information on impacts of the project. Clearly, the adherence to free, prior, and informed consent of the affected communities remains another concern.
Project Impacts on villagers
The project authorities outlined that at least 705 families will be affected due to loss of their right over forest land for the LDP. The project authorities have been building the road from Tupul to Thangal village for a total length of 97.91 km to aid construction of the Dam, powerhouse, and pump House. The forest areas required is 40.9 hectares for the road from Tupul to Dam site, for road from Dam site to Powerhouse and for diversion of forest for construction of road from Pump House to Irang River. Another 144 hectares of land has been identified for compensatory afforestation for the loss of 72 hectares of forest land at Thangal Village to be acquired for the road expansion for the project.
Earlier, a group of affected villagers of Taosang Village filed a case against the step taken by the Government for resurvey for which the Gauhati High Court stayed the same. The survey and other works were suspended for quite some time due to the Court’s interventions. The Citizens Concern for Dam and Development (CCDD) on 15 December 2017 condemned the pursuance of the Chairman and Managing Director of NHPC, in his meeting with Chief Minister of Manipur to commence construction of LDP. CCDD stated pursuance of LDP by using water discharge from Loktak project is a disregard of the call of people of Manipur to decommission Ithai Barrage of the Loktak HEP.
The release of water from Leimatak Power station of Loktak project affected the water flow of the Leimatak River. The LDP project will further worsen the downstream impacts of Ithai Barrage. A man identified Jianthailung Riame (28 yrs) s/o Langangdaipou Riamei of Soubunglong Part-II village under Khoupum Sub-Division of Noney district lost his life while crossing the Leimatak River in June 2020, as the river current turned violent due to opening of shutter of the Power Station of Loktak project.
The LDP will lead to further militarization as the project authorities insisted to raise four battalions of security forces to protect the project and to protect establishment of related infrastructures like road from Tupul to the project site at Thangal village. As per the agreement between Government of Manipur and NHPC signed on 12 February 1999, provision of necessary security arrangement is the responsibility of Government of Manipur. One battalion of CRPF was to be deployed in the project area from 1 October 2000 to enable Border Road Organization build the Tupul to Thangal road. NHPC is slated to bear the cost of the deployment of the battalion estimated at Rs.112 crore.
Loktak Downstream Project and Ithai Barrage
The NHPC’s push for LDP comes at a time, when indigenous peoples call for review and decommissioning of the controversial Ithai Barrage of the Loktak HEP intensified in Manipur. The NHPC’s push for LDP is notwithstanding the appraisal of the Chief Minister of Manipur to the Prime Minister of India on August 2, 2017 to remove the Ithai Barrage to prevent the recurrent flood situation in Manipur. The Governor of Manipur even join the call to decommission the Ithai Barrage considering the impacts of Loktak HEP project. The NHPC officials conceitedly rebuffed the call of the people of Manipur to decommission Ithai Barrage as emanating from ignorance. Bedi Ram, the project head of the Loktak HEP project, defended the Ithai Barrage maintaining that the opposition to the Ithai Barrage stemmed from “ignorance”. Such statement of NHPC confirms the irresponsibility and unaccountability of companies like NHPC in Manipur.
The construction of LDP will worsen and prolong the suffering inflicted by Ithai Barrage.
The Loktak project instead of irrigating 50,000 hectares of agriculture land submerged more than 50,000 hectares of agriculture land and reducing Manipur to a food dependent state. Villages residing close to Ithai Barrage, such as Laphupat Tera, Khordak Nongmaikhong, Arong, Ithai Wakokpi, Kumbi, Thanga etc complained of repeated flooding and widespread loss of their properties due to the impoundment of water by Ithai Barrage. NHPC rather than assuming responsibility for the violations and the destruction of Loktak wetlands insisted on construction of additional mega dams in Manipur. The NHPC also downplayed the various academic researches and write ups detailing the Loktak projects’ impacts on the people, flora, fauna and culture in Manipur.
The Loktak HEP Project, commissioned in 1983 has been operating for almost Four (4) decades without guidelines on the functioning of the project. There has been no holistic and detailed impact assessment due to the continued operation of both Loktak HEP and the LDP. A continued operation of Ithai Barrage to operate the Loktak downstream project would further devastate Loktak Wetlands, aggravating livelihood loss for communities. To consolidate profiting from the land and resources of Manipur, the NHPC aggressively pursues the Loktak downstream project. NHPC continues to reap maximum profit while destroying communities’ livelihood and Loktak wetlands. Loktak HEP project is major sources of profit for NHPC, but for the people, the project is a simply a symbol of exploitation and plunder of Manipur’s land and resources.
Unviability of Hydropower Project
The plan to build the Loktak downstream project needs to consider the increased unviability of building large dams. For long, the 66 MW Loktak Downstream Project has been delayed as the NHPC and the Manipur Government failed to sign the PPA, due to high cost of per unit power. The power tariff of Loktak Downstream Project would be around Rs 6.17 per unit as of 2018, which is comparatively high, prompting Manipur Government to desist from signing PPA with NHPC. When the LDP project was approved by the Government in 1999 at a cost of Rs. 697.67 crores, the corresponding tariff at that time was Rs 4.10 per unit. With the project cost standing around 1500 crore at 2020, the cost of power per unit cost is slated to increase further.
The per unit price of power from hydel projects is much higher than the solar tariffs, which declined to Rs. 3 in July 2019 as compared to Rs. 4 from hydel power in India. Indeed, India’s solar power tariffs hit a record low of Rs 2.36 per kilowatt per hour during a bid by Solar Energy Corporation of India Ltd on 30 June 2020. The per unit cost of solar power is set to fall to as low as Rs 1.9 per unit over the next decade through 2030 in India with new technologies boosting efficiency levels. Building hydropower projects is no longer cost effective. Building a hydel plant can cost Rs 7 to 9 crore per MW, compared with Rs 3.5-4 crore per MW for solar energy. As such, building hydro projects is unviable commercially. One need to ponder the commercial feasibility of large dams like 1500 MW Tipaimukh dam that will requires massive investment of over Rs 10,000 crore by 2020.
The signing of MoU and PPA for Loktak Downstream project need a clear reflection to address the prolonged demands of the indigenous peoples of Manipur to decommission the Ithai Barrage of 105 MW Loktak HEP Project. With the Government of Manipur agreeing to purchase the entire power from the Loktak downstream project, the ultimate question is whether it will economical or at a loss of State exchequer. The Government of Haryana refused to purchase power from 1200 MW Teesta III Hydroelectric project due to the high cost the power despite the PPA signed earlier.
NHPC is least bothered of the untold suffering inflicted by its Loktak HEP. NHPC today becomes a perfect symbol of corporate arrogance, blatant disregard of peoples’ voices and arbitration of all human rights norms. Entrusting the rivers, land and forest of Manipur to an unaccountable corporate body like the NHPC to build more dams like the 66 MW Loktak Downstream project and 1500 MW Tipaimukh dam over Leimatak and Barak Rivers would be suicidal for the people and environment of Manipur. With the push for 66 MW Loktak Downstream Project, NHPC proves its vision of development is detached from the development needs of the people of Manipur. The dismal performance of NHPC, its unaccountability and disrespect of indigenous peoples are reasons rife to restrict it from Manipur.
The construction of LDP project is irrational as the premise of utilizing water discharged from 105 MW Loktak HEP Project would only mean continued suffering of communities and total devastation of Loktak wetlands ecosystem in Manipur. The Loktak HEP project also failed to provide irrigation water as originally planned, in addition to the livelihood impacts and human rights violations on indigenous communities depending on Loktak wetlands for survival. The Government of Manipur and Government of India should urgently initiate steps to review and decommission the Ithai Barrage of Loktak project conceding the prolonged demands of the people of Manipur, instead of insisting on construction of another unsustainable dam project. The Government of Manipur should review and revoke the Power Purchasing Agreement with NHPC, given the high cost and lack of feasibility of the proposed 66 MW Loktak Downstream project. The MoU signed for the project should be revoked. The construction of the project is still pre-mature and the continued operation of 105 MW Loktak Multipurpose Hydroelectric Project and the project together will intensify suffering of communities.
The proposed financing request by the Government of India to Japan International Cooperation Agency for Loktak downstream project should be stopped, considering the larger implications and human rights violations unleashed by hydropower projects in Manipur like the Loktak Project and the Mapithel dam and further, the unaccountability of corporate bodies. The JICA should stop financing dams in Manipur and related supporting infrastructure as mega dams have caused enough hardship, much inconveniences and sufferings to the people of Manipur.
The increased irrationality of hydel projects as energy source amid the growing viability of alternative options like solar energy need be carefully considered to achieve energy sustainability in Manipur.
Destruction of Manipur’s land and resources for the profit of irresponsible multinational companies like NHPC should be stopped forever. The failure and irrationality of dams and wastage of scarce public resources to build such unsustainable projects with multifaceted implications on people and environment in Manipur need be fully reviewed. Recognition of indigenous peoples’ development wishes and self-determined rights is crucial in all development decision making and processes.
महीनों तक अपनी हेरोइन की लत से जूझने, और खून की उल्टियां करने, के बाद 23 साल के आमिर ने आखिरकार अपने घरवालों से बात करने की हिम्मत जुटा ली. इसके बाद उनके घरवाले तुरंत उसे लेकर श्रीनगर के इंस्टीट्यूट ऑफ मेंटल हैल्थ एंड न्यूरोसाइन्सेज़ (इमहंस) में पहुंचे जहां अब उनका इलाज जारी है.
खुद तो अामिर अपनी इस लत को छोड़ने पर काफी डटे हुए हैं लेकिन डॉ ओबेद अहमद, जो अस्पताल के ड्रग डि-एडिक्शन वार्ड के इंचार्ज हैं, हमें बताते हैं कि हेरोइन की लत को छोड़ पाना आसान काम नहीं है.
“सालों बाद भी कुछ लोग फिर से नशा करने लग जाते हैं. उम्मीद हम यही करते हैं कि उनसे यह आदत छुड़ा दी जाये और कोशिश भी हम पूरी करते हैं, लेकिन ये नशा कुछ समय बाद नशा न रह कर बीमारी बन जाता है” डॉ ओबेद अहमद ने सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहा.
खुशी की बात यह है कि कश्मीर में अब आमिर जैसे कई लोग इस नशे से छुटकारा पाने के लिए डॉक्टरों के पास जा रहे हैं, लेकिन अफसोस यह है कि ये लोग इस प्रदेश में नशे के दलदल में फंसे हुए लोगों का सिर्फ एक ज़रा सा हिस्सा भर हैं.
“सिर्फ दस प्रतिशत लोग ही हमारे पास इलाज़ के लिए आते हैं, बाकी 90 प्रतिशत या तो शरम के मारे आ नहीं पाते या उन्हें इस बात की खबर ही नहीं है कि इस बीमारी का कोई इलाज भी हो सकता है” डॉ ओबेद, सत्याग्रह से हुई लंबी बातचीत में बताते हैं, “हेरोइन की लत हमारी अगली पीढ़ी को लेकर डूब रही है.”
कश्मीर घाटी में हेरोइन की लत के बारे में काफी कुछ लिखने को है और इस कड़ी में सबसे पहले यह बताना ज़रूरी है कि कश्मीर में ड्रग एडिक्शन की स्थिति आज किस स्तर पर है.
कश्मीरऔरड्रगएडिक्शन
हमारे देश के किसी भी हिस्से में यह अनुमान लगा पाना मुश्किल है कि कितने लोग नशीले पदार्थों का सेवन करते हैं. कोई भी इसके बारे में खुल कर बात नहीं करता है और कश्मीर घाटी भी इस मामले में अपवाद नहीं है. हालांकि आए दिन यहां इस बारे में अध्ययन होते रहते हैं जो कश्मीर में नशा करने वालों के अलग-अलग आंकड़े देते हैं.
1993 में हुए ऐसे ही एक अध्ययन में कश्मीर के एक जाने-माने मनोचिकित्सक, मुश्ताक़ मरग़ूब ने उस समय कश्मीर में नशा करने वालों की संख्या दो लाख से ज़्यादा बताई थी. तब उन्होने यह भी लिखा था कि इनमें से ज़्यादातर लोग चरस का नशा करते हैं और नशा करने वाले ज़्यादातर लोग पुरुष होते हैं.
2019 में फिर एक अध्ययन हुआ जो भारत सरकार की मिनिस्टरी ऑफ सोशल जस्टिस एंड एम्पावरमेंट ने ऑल इंडिया इंस्टीट्यूट ऑफ मेडिकल साइन्सेज (एम्स) के नेशनल ड्रग डिपेडेन्स ट्रीटमेंट सेंटर (एनडीडीटीसी) ने पूरे देश में किया था.
इस अध्ययन के मुताबिक जम्मू-कश्मीर पूरे देश में नशा करने वालों की संख्या के हिसाब से पांचवे नंबर पर है. “कुल मिला कर जम्मू-कश्मीर में छह लाख से ज़्यादा लोग नशीले पदार्थों का सेवन करते हैं, जो यहां की आबादी का लगभग पांच प्रतिशत बैठता है” इस अध्ययन में लिखा गया है.
लेकिन जानकार कहते हैं कि सिर्फ कश्मीर घाटी में नशा करने वाले लोगों की संख्या इससे कहीं ज़्यादा हो सकती है और इनका मानना यह है कि “एनडीडीटीसी” का यह सर्वे सिर्फ इस समस्या की ऊपरी सतह को ही छूता है.
“कश्मीर जैसी जगह पर जब आप किसी से उसके गांव वालों के सामने पूछें कि वो शराब पीता है या नहीं, या कोई और नशा करता है या नहीं, तो सौ प्रतिशत मामलों में जवाब न ही होना है. और ऐसा ही कुछ एनडीडीटीसी वालों ने किया था” डॉ मुजफ्फर ए खान, जो एक क्लीनिकल साइकोलॉजिस्ट होने के साथ-साथ कश्मीर में पुलिस द्वारा चलाये जाने वाले यूथ डेवलपमेंट एड रिहैबिलिटेशन सेंटर के डाइरेक्टर भी हैं, सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहते हैं.
खान का मानना है कि सिर्फ कश्मीर घाटी में नशा करने वालों की संख्या एनडीडीटीसी के द्वारा दिये गए पूरे राज्य के आंकड़ों से कहीं ज़्यादा हैं. लेकिन आंकड़े परेशानी की बात नहीं हैं. परेशान करने वाली बात है, कश्मीर में हेरोइन का नशा करने वालों की बढ़ती संख्या.
डॉ मुजफ्फर ए खान की ही मानें तो कुछ साल पहले तक अगर उनके सेंटर पर नशा करने वाले 10 लोग इलाज के लिए आते थे तो उनमें ज़्यादा से ज़्यादा एक ही ऐसा व्यक्ति होता था जो हेरोइन का नशा करता था. “लेकिन अब हालत ये है कि दस में से नौ और कभी कभी पूरे 10 लोग हेरोइन लेने वाले आते हैं” खान का कहना है.
यही बात इमहंस के डॉ ओबेद अहमद ने भी सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कही. “आप देख सकते हैं, अभी हमारे यहां करीब 10 लोग भर्ती हैं और इनमें से सिर्फ एक शराब का आदी है, वो कश्मीरी नहीं है. बाकी सारे यहीं के हैं और हेरोइन का सेवन करते हैं” डॉ ओबेद कहते हैं.
और यह काफी परेशानी की बात है, क्यूंकि हेरोइन बाकी नशे जैसा नहीं है.
डॉक्टर खान कहते हैं कि पहले लोग चरस, गांजा, शराब, फुक्की, बूट पॉलिश या ऐसी ही अन्य चीजों का नशा करते थे जो जानलेवा भी नहीं होता था और उसको छुड़ाना भी काफी आसान होता था. “वहीं हेरोइन जानलेवा है, इससे सेहत पर काफी गहरा असर पड़ता है, ये बहुत महंगा है और इसको छुड़ा पामा लगभग नामुमकिन है.”
हेरोइनजानलेवाहैऔरकश्मीरघाटीमेंलगातारजानेंलेरहाहै
पिछले साल दक्षिण कश्मीर के अनंतनाग जिले में तीन युवक घर से रात भर गायब रहे. अगली सुबह किसी ने पुलिस को बताया कि वे एक पास के कब्रिस्तान में मरे पड़े हैं. लाशें उठाई गयीं और कुछ समय बाद पता चला कि वे तीनों हेरोइन के ओवरडोज़ की वजह से मर गए थे.
हालांकि कश्मीर में हेरोइन ओवरडोज़ से होने वाली मौतों का कोई स्पष्ट आंकड़ा नहीं है लेकिन ऊपरी सतह से भी इंसान चीजों का जायज़ा ले तो हालात काफी खराब दिखते हैं.
अनंतनाग जिले में पुलिस द्वारा चलाये जाने वाले ड्रग डि-एडिक्शन सेंटर की प्रमुख, डॉ मुदस्सिर अज़ीज़, ने सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहा कि उनके सेंटर पर इलाज करने के लिए आने वाले लोगों में से पिछले तीन साल में करीब एक दर्जन लोगों की मौत हुई है.
“हम इन लोगों के घर वालों के संपर्क में रहते हैं तो हमें पता चल जाता है. नहीं तो ये लोग आम लोगों और रिश्तेदारों को यही बताते हैं कि मौत हार्ट अटैक से हुई है. लोगों को भी अंदाज़ा होता है लेकिन फिर परिवार की इज्ज़त बचाने के लिए कोई इस बारे में बात नहीं करता है” अज़ीज़ सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहती हैं कि अक्सर मौत की वजह ओवरडोज़ ही होती है. और अगर ओवरडोज़ की वजह से मौत न भी हो तो स्वास्थ्य से जुड़ी दूसरी समस्याएं सामने आती हैं. जैसे आमिर की खून की उल्टियां या उनके बेड के बगल वाले बेड पर बैठे 17 साल के साकिब का बेजान पड़ा दाहिना हाथ.
“ये हाल ही में हुआ है. ओवरडोज़ की वजह से मेरा ये हाथ बेकार हो गया है. डॉक्टर कहते हैं ठीक हो जाएगा लेकिन मुझे नहीं लगता कुछ हो पाएगा” मायबस आवाज़ में साकिब ने सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहते हैं.
हालांकियहस्वास्थसंबन्धितपरेशानियोंकाअंतनहींहै, क्यूंकिसमस्याजितनीदिखतीहैउससेकहींज़्यादागंभीरहै.
डॉ मुजफ्फर ए खान कहते हैं कि पहले कुछ दिन इस पदार्थ को सिर्फ सूंघने के बाद ऐसा करने वाले लोग हेरोइन को इंजेक्शन के द्वारा लेना शुरू कर देते हैं “जो और भी खतरनाक है”.
कितना खतरनाक यह इमहंस के ही डॉ यासिर राथर सत्याग्रह को बताते हैं.
“हमने हाल ही में श्रीनगर और अनंतनाग ज़िले में एक सर्वे किया था जिसमें हमें पता चला कि हेरोइन का सेवन करने वालों में से 50 प्रतिशत लोग इसको इंजेक्ट करते हैं. इनमें से करीब 71 प्रतिशत लोग नीडल को एक दूसरे के साथ शेयर करते हैं और 69 प्रतिशत एक ही नीडल को बार-बार इस्तेमाल करते हैं” डॉ यासिर कहते हैं.
यह इन लोगों के हेपेटाइटिस-सी और एड्स जैसी बीमारियों की चपेट में आने की वजह बनता है.
“मैं कम से कम तीन ऐसे लोगों से मिला जो एचआईवी पॉज़िटिव हो गए हैं सिर्फ नीडल शेयर करने से और कई ऐसे लोगों से जिन्हें हेपेटाइटिस-सी हुआ है. मुझे लगता है कि कश्मीर एचआईवी और हेपेटाइटिस-सी के टाइम बॉम्ब पर बैठा हुआ है जो कभी भी फट सकता है” डॉ यासिर कहते हैं.
डॉक्टर राथर यह भी बताते हैं कि जिन हेरोइन का नशा करने वाले लोगों से वे मिले हैं उनमें से कम से कम 37 फीसदी ने कम से कम एक बार हेरोइन का ओवरडोज़ लिया है. इसका मतलब यह है कि वे मरते-मरते बचे हैं.
लेकिनहेरोइनकेनशेकाएकपहलूऔरहै
इसका एक और पहलू है, पैसा. ढेर सारा पैसा. डॉ यासिर ने अपने एक सर्वे में बताया है कि सिर्फ श्रीनगर और अनंतनाग जिलों में ही एक दिन में करीब तीन करोड़ रूपये की हेरोइन खरीदी और ली जाती है.
“और ज़ाहिर है ये सारा पैसा हमारी पहले से खराब आर्थिक स्थिति को और नकारा बना रहा है. साथ ही साथ ये इन नशा करने वालों के परिवारों को भी सड़क पर ले आता है” डॉ यासिर कहते हैं.
उनकी बात का एक सीधा सा नमूना अंदर वार्ड में इलाज करा रहे, ज़ाहिद हैं जिनकी मां भी उनके साथ ही अस्पताल में उनके साथ हैं. ज़ाहिद के पिता जम्मू-कश्मीर पुलिस के मुलाजिम थे और और अपनी ड्यूटी करते हुए मारे गए थे.
“उनकी मौत पर हमें कुछ पैसा मिला था जिससे मैं इसको पढ़ा रही थी. लेकिन इसने एक-एक पैसा हेरोइन में उड़ा दिया. मेरे पास और कोई सहारा नहीं है, एक ही औलाद है और वो यहां पड़ी हुई है” ज़ाहिद की मां हमें बताती हैं.
ज़ाहिद हालांकि अब पूरी तरह से यह निश्चय कर चुके हैं कि वे अब कोई नशा नहीं करेंगे. लेकिन जो लाखों रुपये उन्होंने इस लत के हवाले कर दिये उसकी वजह से उनका और उनकी मां का भविष्य बेहद मुश्किल में आ गया है. “मैं बहुत शर्मिंदा हूं, लेकिन मेरे हाथ में भी कुछ नहीं था. कुछ दो-तीन बार इसे लेने के बाद मैं इसका आदी हो चुका था और मुझे हेरोइन नहीं मिलती थी तो मैं पागल हो जाता था” ज़ाहिद रोते हुए सत्याग्रह को बताते हैं.
सिर्फ एक ग्राम हेरोइन 3000 से 5000 रूपये के बीच में बिकता है, और कभी कभार इससे भी महंगा.
“मैंने हाल-फिलहाल में, जब लॉकडाउन चल रहा था, एक ग्राम हेरोइन 12000 रूपये का खरीदा था” आमिर सत्याग्रह को बताते हैं, “मैं गाड़ियों का कारोबार करता हूं और मैंने अपना कमाया हुआ सारा पैसा हेरोइन में बर्बाद दिया.”
दक्षिण कश्मीर में एक एडिक्ट से जब सत्याग्रह ने बात की तो उन्होने बताया कि एक साल में उन्होने एक करोड़ से ऊपर की रकम हेरोइन पर फूंक दी है. “और ये सारा पैसा मैंने अपनी मेहनत से कमाया था.”
हेरोइन से जुड़े इस आर्थिक पहलू से जुड़ा एक और पहलू है – जिन लोगों के पास पैसा नहीं होता वे लोग अपराध का रुख करते हैं.
“ये लोग चोरी-चकारी करते हैं या फिर खुद भी यही जहर बेचने लग जाते हैं. उसी से पैसे कमाते हैं और उसी से अपनी लत पूरी करते हैं” कश्मीर के एक वरिष्ठ पुलिस अधिकारी सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहते हैं.
औरयहइसजहरकाएकऔरपहलूहै
ये लोग पहले अपना पैसा बर्बाद करते हैं, पैसा न मिलने की सूरत में अपराध करते हैं लेकिन इसके साथ-साथ अपने घरों को कई तरीकों से तबाह करते हैं.
इमहंस के डि-एडिक्शन वार्ड में ही सत्याग्रह की मुलाक़ात श्रीनगर के रहने वाले, फारूक अहमद, से हुई. फारूक 36 साल के हैं और दो बेटियों के पिता भी. “मैंने अपने नशे की लत पूरी करने में अपने घर के बर्तन तक बेच डाले” उन्होने सत्याग्रह को बताया, “चलें बर्तन तो फिर भी मिल जाते लेकिन मैं अपनी बीवी को मारने लग गया था और अपने बच्चों के प्रति कोई ज़िम्मेदारी पूरी नहीं कर रहा था. कल को मेरी बेटी कोई गलत काम करेगी तो मैं उसको रोक भी नहीं पाऊंगा” फ़रूक ने कहा.
उनकी बात सुनते ही ज़ाहिद की माता जी भी हमें बताती हैं कि कैसे उनका बेटा पैसा न मिलने की सूरत में उन्हें मारता-पीटता था और घर के सामान तोड़ा करता था.
लेकिन इस सबके के लिए डॉक्टर इन लोगों को जिम्मेदार नहीं ठहराते. “मैंने पहले भी कहा था कि ये बीमारी है. पहले शायद एक दो-बार इनको इस नशे से मज़ा आता हो लेकिन उसके बाद इसे करना इनकी मजबूरी बन जाती है. इनके बदन में ऐसा दर्द होता है, नशा न मिलने पर, कि इनके बस में कुछ नहीं रहता है,” डॉक्टर ओबेद कहते हैं.
आमिर से इसके बारे में पूछने पर वे हमें बताते हैं कि इतना दर्द होता है कि आत्महत्या करने का मन करता है, “ऐसे में कहां होश रहेगा कि हम अपराध कर रहे हैं या अपने घर वालों के साथ गलत कर रहे हैं.”
अबसवालयहपैदाहोताहैकीहेरोइनक्यूंऔरआकहांसेरहीहैऔरपुलिसक्याकररहीहै?
क्यूं का जवाब मुदस्सिर अज़ीज़ देती हैं. वे कहती हैं कि हेरोइन से इंसान कुछ देर के लिए ही सही अपने सारे दुख-दर्द भूल जाता है. “और आजकल की पीढ़ी की परेशानियां बहुत हैं, खास तौर पर कश्मीर में जहां यहां का माहौल इस पीढ़ी की पहले से ही बढ़ी हुई मुश्किलों को ओर बढ़ा देता है.”
दूसरी ओर, मुदस्सिर बताती हैं कि यह जहर बेचने वाले कोई कसर नहीं छोड़ते. “पहले दो-तीन बार ये लोग इस जहर को मुफ्त में देते हैं और फिर लोग इसके आदी हो जाते हैं. उधर दोस्तों की संगत, पढ़ाई का दबाव, परिवारों में तनाव भी अपना काम कर रहे होते हैं.”
मुदस्सिर अज़ीज़ कहती हैं कि कश्मीर में हेरोइन लगभग खुलेआम बिक रहा है. “मुझे तो समझ में नहीं आता इतना आता कहां से है.”
पुलिस सूत्रों की मानें तो कश्मीर में सारी हेरोइन बाहर से आती है. “पिछले साल ही अमृतसर के अटारी बार्डर पर 500 किलो से ज़्यादा हेरोइन पकड़ी गयी थी जो लाहौर से आई थी. उसके बाद कश्मीर और पंजाब में कुछ गिरफ्तारियां भी हुईं लेकिन कोई नतीजा शायद अभी तक नहीं निकला है. और फिर जो पंजाब का मुख्य आरोपी था वो पुलिस कस्टडी में रहस्यमय तरीके से मर भी गया था” पुलिस के एक सूत्र सत्याग्रह को बताते हैं.
लेकिन वे यह नहीं बता पाते हैं कि इतनी कड़ी सुरक्षा के बीच यह ज़हर कश्मीर कैसे पहुंच जाता है?
सत्याग्रह ने जितने भी लोगों, खास तौर पर नशा करने वालों से बात की उनमें से ज्यादातर ने इस मामले में पुलिस की तरफ उंगली उठाई. “मैं एक पुलिस अधिकारी के पास गया था और उनको मैंने सारे नाम दिये थे जो जो हमारे यहां हेरोइन बेचते थे. उन्होंने आश्वासन तो दिया लेकिन कोई कार्रवाई नहीं हुई” आमिर ने सत्याग्रह को बताया.
ज़ाहिद, जो खुद एक पुलिसकर्मी के बेटे हैं, ने भी यही बात बताई और कहा कि बिना पुलिस के सपोर्ट के यह काम कश्मीर में कोई भी नहीं कर सकता है.
लेकिन दक्षिण कश्मीर, जो हेरोइन के नशे से सबसे ज़्यादा प्रभावित इलाका है, के डेप्युटी इंस्पेक्टर जनरल (डीआईजी) अतुल गोयल, इस बात को नकारते हुए कहते हैं कि पुलिस अपना काम बखूबी कर रही है.
“हम आए दिन इस जहर को बेचने वालों को पकड़ लेते हैं और उनके खिलाफ केस भी दर्ज करते हैं” गोयल सत्याग्रह से बात करते हुए कहते हैं, “मुझे नहीं पता कि जितना आप बता रहे हैं उतनी खराब हालत है लेकिन पुलिस अपना काम कर रही है.”
अब सवाल यह है कि क्या यह जहर बेचने वालों को पकड़ के उनके खिलाफ सिर्फ मुक़दमे चलाना, जिनमें वे आसानी से जमानत पर छूट भी जाते हैं, कश्मीर में हेरोइन रोकने के लिए काफी होगा?
जानकारों की सुनें तो यह एक तरह की आपात स्थिति है जिसमें इससे बहुत ज्यादा करने की जरूरत है. “इसीलिए पिछली साल सरकार ने एक ड्रग पॉलिसी बनाई थी और इस साल एंटी-नारकोटिक्स टास्क फोर्स भी. लेकिन ज़मीन पर कुछ होता दिखाई दे नहीं रहा है. हालात दिन-ब-दिन बिगड़ते दिखाई दे रहे हैं” हमारे एक पुलिस सूत्र सत्याग्रह को बताते हैं.
देखना यह बाकी रह गया है कि सरकार की आंख खुलने से पहले यह नशा पहले से ही मुश्किलों में डूबे कश्मीर के कितने और लोगों को बिलकुल ही ले डूबता है.
India’s farmers are not happy, and dissent is on the rise. Thousands of farmers recently broke out on the streets in vehement opposition against the Union government’s contentious farm bills passed in the Parliament’s Monsoon Session in September 2020.
This, however, is not the first instance of farmers clamouring against the Centre’s ‘unjust’ policies: At least 50 major protests were reported across 20 Indian states in nine months between January and September. These include four countrywide protests in January, May, August and September.
Following a series of protests in several states — most prominently Punjab and Haryana — the leading farmers’ organisations called for a ‘Bharat Bandh’ on September 25. The outcry is against three new farm Bills: Famers Produce Trade and Commerce (Promotion and Facilitation) Ordinance, 2020; Farmers (Empowerment and Protection Agreement on Price Assurance and Farm Services Ordinance, 2020; the Essential Commodities (Amendment) Ordinance, 2020.
One of the biggest fears among farmers is the eventual collapse of the mandis — markets run by agricultural produce market committees. The general apprehension is that the government would stop buying produce from them at guaranteed prices, leaving them at the mercy of private buyers.
While Union Agriculture Minister Narendra Singh Tomar has repeatedly assured them that the Central government would not do away with Minimum Support Price (MSP), it has had a little effect on assuaging the farmer community as well as the Opposition.
Union food processing minister Harsimrat Kaur Badal resigned from the Cabinet on the account of the Acts being “anti-farmer”.
A long trail
Anti-farms bill protest will be the fourth major nationwide protests by farmers after the one led by the All India Kisan Sangharsh Coordination Committee (AIKSCC) on August 9, 2020. The protest, with the slogan ‘Corporate Bhagao, Kisani Bachao’, saw participation from 250 farmers unions under the AIKSCC banner.
The beginning of the year was marked by the largest-ever strike on January 8, 2020: An estimated 250 million workers, employees, farmers and rural labourers came out on streets to protest against the Union government’s economic policies and divisive politics.
The protest was against the government’s alleged failure on multiple fronts, including providing freedom from indebtedness and implementing effective crop insurance and disaster compensation in the face of drought, floods and unseasonal rains, among other issues.
Over 200 farmers and agriculture workers’ unions had supported it by observing the day as Gramin Bharat Bandh, and supply of all perishable and essential commodities to the national capital was disrupted.
Agitating farmers
The agriculture sector has emerged as a bright spot and an “outlier” even as all other sectors, including manufacturing and services, have been suffering miserably in the wake of the novel coronavirus disease (COVID-19) epidemic, the Centre had said during the Monsoon Session.
“Agriculture has emerged as a bright spot, growing at a healthy rate of 3.4 per cent,” junior finance minister Anurag Singh Thakur had said.
There has been an over 5.6 per cent increase in the total area sown under kharif crops, claimed the government in its written statement to Rajya Sabha.
But 50 major protests by farmers across 20 states point to mushrooming farmer distress. These states include: Andhra Pradesh, Assam, Bihar, Chhattisgarh, Goa, Gujarat, Haryana, Himachal, Karnataka, Kerala, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Manipur, Odisha, Punjab, Tamil Nadu, Telangana, Tripura and Uttar Pradesh.
Punjab has been the frontrunner in these protests: Farmers there have protested regularly against the farm bills and Electricity Bill, 2020 since May.
But the agitation there has only recently seen a comeback: The state did not record any agrarian agitation between 2016 and 2018, according to the latest data by the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB).
Why the dissent
Farmers are reeling under debt due to the damages their crop suffered owing to extreme weather events such as floods in the North East and cyclone Amphan. They have been protesting for loan waivers and compensation.
As in the past, less remunerative price for produce is another reason behind rising dissent, even as the production has been high this year. In fact, all types of crops have reported an increase in acreage, with rice recording the highest increase in the last five years.
But poor management and governance of procurement has led to discontent among the farmers. For example, farmers in Chhattisgarh came out on streets to protest against the irregularities in the government’s paddy procurement process in February.
In fact, the Union government also acknowledged in Parliament on September 23 that milk procurement prices by private dairies in Maharashtra had fallen during the lockdown.
Poor compensation for the land acquired for developmental project continues to be another major cause behind the upsurge in protest this year. A case in example is that of farmers in Gujarat who have been protesting against land acquisition for Bullet Train project which is supposed to connect Ahmedabad and Mumbai.
According to media reports, the farmers have also been demanding scrappage of amendments to Electricity Bill, 2020; increase in PM-KISAN income support scheme to Rs 18,000 from Rs 6,000; and a minimum wage for support farmers as well as farm labourers.
Widening geography of the protest
The distress has been on the rise in the North East as well.
A look at the media reports and the data provided by the NCRB as of 2018 indicated that new states have been registering farmers’ protests. For example, according to the latest data, Andhra Pradesh did not report a single agitation by the farmers in 2016, 2017 and 2018. But in 2020, the state has reported at least four protests so far.
Similarly, Goa did not report any incidence of agrarian agitation between 2016 and 2018, according to the NCRB. But the state reported incidences of protest by sugarcane farmers in February 2020.
Distress among farmers in the North East, too, has been on the rise. In Assam, agrarian agitation increased by nine times between 2016 and 2018. In 2018, the state reported 37 cases of agrarian distress as compared to just four in 2016, according to NCRB. Manipur and Tripura, with no recorded protest by farmers from 2016-2018, reported agitations in 2020.
More agitations in the offing
Even as farmers hit the streets against the farm bills, other state-wide protests are being planned as well. For example, the farmers’ organisations in Karnataka have called for a state-wide shutdown on the September 28 to protest ‘anti-farmer’ policies of the state and federal governments.
While the farm bills have enraged farmers across the country, Pesticide Management Bill, 2020, tabled in the Rajya Sabha to replace the Insecticides Act, 1968 is likely to add to farmers woes, fear experts.
It is likely to put farmers’ livelihoods at risk, and goes against recommendations of Ashok Dalwai Committee constituted in 2018 for doubling of farmers’ income said Ajit Kumar, Chairman (Technical Committee), Crop Care Federation of India in an interview to Financial Express.
The country reported 37 protests in 15 states in 2018, according to State of India’s Environment 2018: In figures. 2020 may break these records, it seems.
तीन कृषि विधेयकों को संसद के दोनों सदनों से मंजूरी मिलने के बाद इस पर चौतरफ़ा चर्चा हो रही है. पंजाब और हरियाणा के किसानों ने इन विधेयकों के ख़िलाफ़ मोर्चा खोल दिया है. देखिए पटियाला से ग्राउंड रिपोर्ट
देखिए ये रिपोर्ट-
संसद से अब कृषि विधेयक (Agriculture bills) पारित हो चुका है. लेकिन, पंजाब और हरियाणा (Farmers agitation in Punjab and Haryana) के किसानों का आंदोलन अब भी चल रहा है. हज़ारों की तादाद में पंजाब के किसानों ने मोदी सरकार (Narendra Modi government) के ख़िलाफ़ मोर्चा खोल दिया है. पटियाला (Farmers protest in Patiala) में किसानों ने विशाल प्रदर्शन किया. मोदी सरकार का दावा है कि इन विधेयकों से किसानों को फ़ायदा होगा, लेकिन किसानों का दो टूक कहना है कि मोदी सरकार ने पूंजीपतियों को फ़ायदा पहुंचाने के लिए ये क़ानून लाया है. किसान कह रहे हैं कि इन विधेयकों के आने से उन पर बेहद बुरा असर पड़ेगा. एशियाविल संवाददाता अमित भारद्वाज ने पटियाला के किसानों से बातचीत की है.
New Delhi: Amid the ongoing tensions at the Line of Actual Control (LAC), a 972 square kilometer area at over 16,400 feet — the Depsang Plains — continues to be a source of major friction, with India ramping up its defence and the Chinese increasing their presence in the area.
The Depsang Plains come under India’s Sub Sector North (SSN) and as elsewhere, the LAC here is disputed. The SSN is sandwiched between the Siachen Glacier on one side and Chinese-controlled Aksai Chin on the other.
The disputed area, a feast for tanks because of its plain terrain, has seen two major standoffs between Indian and Chinese forces in 2013 and 2015. This is aside from the dozens of annual clashes that both sides engage in when soldiers come face-to-face while patrolling.
The importance of the Depsang Plains lies in its geographical location. The strategic and military threat to the plains is the greatest along the eastern Ladakh, which is also part of the SSN.
But more than being a strategic offensive area, the Depsang Plains are actually more of a defensive feature in nature.
ThePrint had reported on 8 August that the tensions at Depsang Plains precede the current stand-off by at least several months.
Sources told ThePrint that the Chinese have been blocking Indian patrols, which go by foot beyond the feature called the Bottleneck area or Y Junction.
“The Depsang issue is different from the current standoff that is taking place between India and China,” a source had told ThePrint. “The Chinese have been blocking India’s patrol from bottleneck areas to PP11, PP12, PP12 A and PP 13. This has been happening from before the current tensions at LAC.”
The Chinese claim line here is about 1.5 km from an Indian military camp in an area known as Burtse. Indian forces also block the Chinese patrols from coming beyond the bottleneck area.
In 2015, however, the Chinese had intruded right until their claim line but eventually retreated.
While the Indian Army can still push ahead with force to reach its traditional patrolling points, it has avoided it so as not to create any new front.
The Indians can reach the Bottleneck by road but further travel is only possible by foot through two different routes. The north route, following the Raki Nala, goes towards PP10 and the southeast route goes towards PP13 along what is known as Jiwan Nala.
Even though Army officials maintain that “no ground has been lost in Depsang Plains this year”, it continues to be a matter of serious concern.
To the north of Depsang is the over 18,000 feet Karakoram Pass. To its right is the Chinese-annexed Aksai Chin, across which runs the G219 highway that connects Tibet and Xinjiang provinces. The Lingzi Thang mountain range divides the Depsang Plains from Aksai Chin.
China has, since 1962, a hold on the mountain spurs on the eastern edge of Depsang.
The western edge of Depsang abuts the southeast part of the Rimo glacier, which is an extension of the Siachen glacier.
The official history of the 1962 war recognises the Chip Chap river valley, which opens into the Depsang Plains, as one offensive route from Aksai Chin into Ladakh.
Sources said Murgo, located on the southern edge of Depsang, now has a route to Sasoma in eastern Ladakh but is a combination of a jeep track and a foot trail.
This path goes across the Saser La pass at about 17,000 ft. From Sasoma, there is a road into Gilgit Baltistan through Turtuk and Tyakashi (both on the Indian side).
“If this (Saser La) pass is captured by the enemy, then they can threaten the route to Siachen,” a source said.
He added that any threat to Depsang can mean the Darbuk-Shyok-Daulat Beg Oldie (DS-DBO) road can be threatened.
The 255-km long road connects Leh to the Karakoram Pass. While the DBO, which has the world’s highest air strip, comes within the Depsang Plains, the military considers it separate.
“If the enemy cuts off the DBO, it makes India’s control over Karakoram pass untenable,” he said.
According to former Northern Army commander Lt Gen D.S. Hooda (retd), India has built up good defence in the area.
“The SSN, including the Depsang area, is strategically important. The DS-DBO road runs through this area that is near the Karakoram pass. India has built up good defences in this area,” Hooda said.
In his article in ThePrint, military historian Air Vice Marshal Arjun Subramaniam (retd) noted that the control of the Siachen glacier for India is critical considering that to the east of the glacier lies the SSN.
“This is the area that saw much action in the 1962 India-China War and includes the Indian Advanced Landing Ground (ALG) of Daulat Beg Oldie, and contested areas of the Depsang Plains that have seen numerous face-offs in the recent past between Indian and Chinese border patrols,” Subramaniam wrote in April this year.
“Strategically, should Pakistan have taken control of the Siachen Glacier, SSN would have been sandwiched between Pakistani and Chinese forces, a fact that was well appreciated by the Indian Army leadership,” he added.
The official history of the 1962 War also identifies Depsang Plains and the DBO as possible launchpads against the Aksai Chin highway.
Sometime in 2015-16, India carried out a full-fledged war game taking into account possible multiple Chinese thrust into the SSN, with a focus on the Depsang Plains.
India has created a separate brigade to look after SSN following 2013 tensions.
Sources said this brigade is the most diverse of the Indian Army with multiple war elements being a part of it.
To bolster its defences, India has been deploying armoured columns into the SSN region, with a key focus on the Depsang Plains.
The first of the deployments came 20 years ago when India began inducting BMPs or armoured personnel carriers (APCs) into the SSN. Around 2015, it started inducting T 72 tanks into the region — for the first time since the 1962 war.
During the war, six AMX-13 tanks were airlifted to Chushul in southeastern Ladakh.
Even in the ongoing standoff with China, some tanks were airlifted using C 17 aircraft.
The big advantage now is that India has the DS-DBO road, which has also helped in the induction of more tanks, including the T-90, over the past few years.
Giving an idea of how the tanks made it that far into eastern Ladakh, Lt Gen Hooda said the tanks came on trailers via the Zoji La pass through the Srinagar-Leh Highway.
From Leh, the DS-DBO road provides the connectivity for further deployment of the tanks into SSN.
“The road always existed. It is just that the alignment was not great but the tanks could move,” Hooda said. “The problem was during the summers when the Shyok used to get flooded. There was no problem during winters because the river would freeze.”
India initially began with three regiments of 46 tanks each positioned at vantage points at the SSN. This number has been bolstered to a “very comfortable level” to counter any kind of aggression by the Chinese, a source in the defence establishment said.
The Chinese aggression at the Galwan Valley and the Depsang Plains is an attempt to put pressure on the DS-DBO road and stop further infrastructure build-up.
Sources said the now all-weather DS-DBO road with 37 prefabricated military truss bridges is a game changer for the Indian military.
The construction of the DS-DBO began in 2000 and was to be completed by 2012 at a cost of Rs 320 crore.
However, the project monitored by the Prime Minister’s Office passes through the difficult Shyok river bed, a portion of which used to wash off every year due to flooding.
A realignment process was hence initiated. According to available information, the UPA government formally signed off on the border infrastructure boost in 2006 with its ‘China Study Group’.
It had set up a target to complete 61 India-China Border Roads (ICBRs) across the various Indian states facing the LAC by 2012.
The Border Roads Organisation (BRO), however, failed to deliver.
A CAG report tabled in Parliament in 2017 observed that only 15 of the planned 61 roads had been completed.
“Out of 61 Indo China Border Roads (ICBRs) planned to be completed by 2012, only 22 roads had been completed up to March 2016, despite incurring an expenditure of Rs 4536 crore (98 percent) against the estimated cost of Rs 4644 crore,” the report had noted.
The construction activity was ramped up after then defence minister Manohar Parrikar decided to step in and revamp the BRO.
Subsequently, the BRO was brought under the ambit of the defence ministry in January 2015, from the Ministry of Road Transport and Highways.
After a complete overhaul, budget allocation was increased for the induction of modern equipment needed to cut through the massive rocky terrain.
In the last five years, there has been a steep rise in construction setting off alarm bells in the Chinese establishment.
An article by Yun Sun, senior fellow and co-director of the East Asia Program at the Stimson Center, said the Chinese saw Indian infrastructure activity “as a consistent and repeated effort by Delhi that needs to be corrected every few years”.
For the Chinese, she added, the infrastructure arms race in the border region has led to repeated Indian incursions and changes to the status quo.
“Otherwise, all the things China fought for in the 1962 war would have been in vain,” she said, citing the example of the 2013 action by the Chinese in the Depsang Plains.
R.N. Ravi, former special director of the Intelligence Bureau, had in 2013 said following China’s move to capture Aksai Chin in 1962, it took other strategic action. Four months later, it also got a crucial chunk of Jammu and Kashmir, west of the Karakoram Pass adjoining Xinjiang, under Pakistani occupation through an “illegal treaty” with Pakistan on 2 March, 1963. Ravi had called it a far-sighted strategic move on part of China to secure its unstable and tenuously held far-flung provinces.
Ravi, now Nagaland Governor, added that taking advantage of its ‘superior military capabilities along the border’, China has been making increasingly aggressive military pushes along Karakoram-Daulat Beg Oldie-Track Junction-Burtse axis in the Depsang Plains. It has been inching closer to Shyok river, seeking to substantially alter the “differing perceptions” of the LAC in its favour, forcing the Indian troops to yield and incrementally retreat.
“Loss of territory in this sub-sector grossly undermines India’s strategic future vis-a-vis China in this sector and increases vulnerabilities of its supply axis to the Siachen sector vis-a-vis Pakistan,” Ravi said.
In 2005, he added, while there were 150 transgressions at the LAC in this sector, the number had increased to about 240 by 2010.
The Chinese built a 20-km motorable road along Jiwan Nala in 2010 and 15-km motorable road along Raki Nala from JAK II to GR 626516 in 2011, “both on the Indian side in the Depsang Plain without a scintilla of resistance”, Ravi said.
New Delhi/Mumbai/Chandigarh/Kolkata: Karnataka has had to increase its borrowing compared to last year by 400 per cent. Maharashtra and Tamil Nadu are in the same boat — their borrowing has increased by 224 per cent and 107 per cent respectively. West Bengal has been ravaged by both the Covid-19 pandemic and Cyclone Amphan, leaving its government scrambling to provide help to people. Other states have had to cut employee salaries and take other emergency measures.
This is the bleak reality of Indian states’ finances after the lockdown, even as the Covid-19 pandemic continues to rage. The contraction in the Indian economy has adversely impacted tax revenues at the same time as Covid-19 has forced a rise in expenditure, resulting in many states facing cash flow problems.
This fragile state of finances is also one of the major reasons why many states are openly confronting the Centre over the non-payment of GST compensation for the current fiscal.
Data from the Reserve Bank of India shows that states resorted to substantially higher market borrowings in the first half of the fiscal to tide over their fund requirements.
In the current fiscal year, states and union territories raised Rs 3.11 lakh crore from market borrowings. A 15 September Care Ratings report pointed out that the borrowings were 52 per cent higher than the Rs 2.05 lakh crore borrowed by states in the corresponding period last year, indicating the revenue crunch faced by them.
The central government paid states their 41 per cent share in the central tax pool, according to the budget estimates, and not according to the actual tax collections in the two months of April-May, in order to help states with their cash flows. But this is now being adjusted to reflect actual tax collections.
States were transferred Rs 2.17 lakh crore in the five months up to August, finance ministry data shows. While Rs 92,000 crore were transferred to states in April and May (a monthly average of Rs 46,000 crore), Rs 1.25 lakh crore were transferred between June and August (monthly average of Rs 42,000 crore).
At the same time, the states have not been paid compensation arising from the implementation of GST for the April-July period, with the Centre citing lack of collections of the compensation cess. The government had pegged that the shortfall in GST revenues for states could be as high as Rs 3 lakh crore in 2020-21, with the April-July period accounting for the majority it.
“The tussle between the central government and states has come to the fore recently. When one looks at the states’ finances in 1QFY21 (first quarter of financial year 2020-21), the bone of contention becomes clear as day,” stated an 11 September report of Motilal Oswal Institutional Equities.
Using monthly accounts available for 14 states, the report pointed out that the total receipts of the states declined 18.2 per cent in the April-June quarter as compared to the year-ago period, but spending remained at similar levels. This pushed up the states’ fiscal deficit to 36.5 per cent of the full year budgeted numbers in the three-month period, more than double the levels seen in previous years, it pointed out.
The decline in revenue receipts of states is led by a sharp contraction in GST revenues. State GST revenues declined 30 per cent in the April-August period to Rs 2.72 lakh crore from Rs 3.9 lakh crore in the corresponding year-ago period, according to finance ministry data.
Karnataka’s market borrowings rose by 400 per cent to Rs 25,000 crore this fiscal, as against Rs 5,000 crore in the corresponding year-ago period, as its revenues contracted sharply.
The BJP-ruled state saw its GST revenues contracting by 28 per cent to Rs 24,763 crore in the April to August period. The total GST compensation due to the state was Rs 13,763 crore for the April-July period.
Looking to curb its expenditure, the state cabinet has approved a 30 per cent cut in MLA salaries for a one-year period.
Maharashtra, the biggest state in terms of gross state domestic product (GSDP), faced a sharp fall in revenue collections, necessitating a cut in development expenditure. However, the state is paying its salaries in full, even as it has borrowed Rs 40,500 crore from the markets in the current fiscal, a 224 per cent increase over the previous year.
In the first four months of the fiscal, the state faced a shortfall of almost Rs 22,000 crore in GST collection.
“This is almost a 30-35 per cent drop in GST revenue. It’s significant as GST constitutes nearly 50 per cent of our own tax revenue. We have faced a similar shortfall in the collection of other major taxes as well,” said a senior official from the state finance department who did not wish to be named.
The official added that the state faced a substantial hit in the value added tax collection as well, because consumption of petrol and diesel plummeted due to the lockdown and the slowdown in economic activity in the past four months.
Revenue from stamp duty also dropped as real estate transactions were sluggish, the official said.
The fall in revenues has also led to a cut in planned expenditure. In a government resolution in May, the state government implemented a 67 per cent cut in development expenditure and strictly ordered all its departments to not take up any new projects, and review and drop all non-performing ones, or those that are not essential and haven’t yet taken off.
“We are approving new projects only for priority departments such as medical education and drugs, public health, nutrition — that is, women and child development,” the official said, adding that the only other exception is the job-creating infrastructure sector where some proposals have been cleared.
The official added that going ahead, tax revenues may see an uptick, with the state unlocking slowly. The slashing of stamp duty rates should also help, he added.
Tamil Nadu, the second largest state in terms of GSDP, faced a GST shortfall of more than Rs 12,250 crore in the first five months of this fiscal year. At the same time, its additional expenditure increased by Rs 7,000 crore as it upgraded health facilities and provided Covid-19 relief.
Tamil Nadu was the largest borrower this year among states, with market borrowings amounting to Rs 46,000 crore, an increase of 107 per cent over the corresponding year-ago period.
Chief Minister Edappadi Palaniswami, in a letter to Prime Minister Narendra Modi, had stressed the need for access to immediate resources to undertake regular budgetary expenditure for schemes to restart the economy.
West Bengal is looking at an increasing debt burden and huge financial strain on its exchequer as it deals with the twin impact of Covid-19 and Cyclone Amphan. However, the state has been making timely salary payments to its employees and has also released festival bonuses for Eid and Durga Puja.
Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee has repeatedly been saying that the state has “no earning and only burning”, which means that the government has not been earning any revenue for last five months, though it needs to manage Covid pandemic, build infrastructure, and additionally, spend on damages across the state caused by Cyclone Amphan.
The state government has announced that it has already spent Rs 2,500 crore in Covid management, while over Rs 6,600 crore were released towards meeting Amphan damages.
Bengal Finance Minister Amit Mitra, in a press conference last month, had said the GST revenue shortfall for West Bengal will be around Rs 15,000 crore, or 1-1.5 per cent of the state’s GDP. “We have managed to pay salary on the 1st of every month and we are still managing our debt on the brink,” he had said.
West Bengal is a debt-ridden state and spends over Rs 50,000 crore for debt servicing annually.
Punjab’s gross GST revenue collection has also plunged 31 per cent in the April to August period to Rs 3,630 crore. Punjab’s GST compensation dues for the April to July period are Rs 6,965 crore.
In addition to GST, Punjab also collects tax revenue from value added tax on alcohol and petroleum products. These have also declined in the April-August period.
State Finance Minister Manpreet Singh Badal had pointed out in a press conference last month that Punjab’s monthly salary bill was Rs 1,800 crore, adding that the Centre’s refusal to pay the GST compensation amount was making it difficult to run the state.
Not all states are paying salaries and pensions to government employees on time. For instance, Telangana has deferred payment of a part of their salaries and pensions for six months with the pandemic squeezing revenues.
Kerala also extended salary cuts for its government employees for another six months till the end of the fiscal year, as it looks to tide over the cash crunch.
Uttarakhand, last month, announced it will cut salaries of its legislators.
Jharkhand CM Hemant Soren had also flagged to the PM that the state is hard-pressed to pay salaries of government employees, as the Centre has not paid it GST compensation for the Rs 2,500 crore revenue shortfall it incurred in the first five months of this fiscal.
N.R. Bhanumurthy, vice-chancellor at Bengaluru’s Dr B.R. Ambedkar School of Economics University said the first “victim” of this revenue shock could be capital expenditure.
“States will cut back on capital expenditure with drying up of finances,” he told ThePrint. But he added what is even more worrying is that states may also be finding it difficult to meet revenue expenditure like that related to the health sector, salaries and pensions.
Bhanumurthy pointed out how states’ revenue mobilisation has worsened since the implementation of GST, with states more dependent on the Centre. However, he said a few states may still have some option to increase their revenues by doing away with the implicit subsidies they provide — such as on power, water and transport.
Once a safe and effective vaccine for COVID-19 is available, who should get inoculated first? And how will India vaccinate at least 800 million of its citizens? Shambhavi Naik and Ameya Paleja discuss their new vaccine strategy with Anirudh Kanisetti.
The scientists of Indian Council of Agriculture Research or ICAR, have found a cure for one of the most dreaded agricultural diseases. The fungal disease, called Fusarium Wilt, is popularly known as the ‘Panama Disease’ and afflicts banana plants. For the first time, Indian scientists have brought out a biopesticide that can control the disease. This biopesticide has been made using another fungus.
For a long time, banana cultivators have been struggling with the Panama Disease. This disease affects the Cavendish variety or the G9 Banana cultivar, which is the most widely grown banana in the world.
In India, more than 60 per cent of bananas are of the G9 variety. They go by names like ‘Grand Naine’, ‘Robusta’, ‘Bhusaval’, ‘Basrai’ and ‘Shrimanth’. Farmers in at least four Indian states — Bihar, Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh and Uttar Pradesh — have been badly affected by this disease. All these are areas where the Cavendish variety is grown.
Why is the disease so deadly? Panama Disease is caused by a fungus with a long and complicated name called Fusarium Oxysporum f. Sp cubense. One of its strains which is called ‘Tropical Race 4’ or ‘TR4’ is creating the most havoc, threatening almost 80 per cent of the global banana production.
The disease is so deadly that it is sometimes referred to as ‘banana cancer’. The fungus resides below ground and infects the plant through its roots. The infection then stops water and essential nutrients from being transported to the rest of the plant.
The leaves begin to wilt, and the stem of the plant starts turning dark brownish before the plant dies. If one plant gets it, then it is most likely that an entire plantation can be wiped out.
In 2017, a major disease outbreak was reported from Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. It was then the ICAR’s Central Soil Salinity Research Institute, along with the National Research Centre for Bananas, Central Institute of Sub-Horticulture, decided to tackle this problem.
It was found that ICAR scientists had already developed a herbicide that was effective for Fusarium Wilt in tomatoes and chillies. The scientists decided that they would modify this formulation to tackle Panama Disease in bananas.
In 2018, the field trials of this new bio-fungicide began. It was called ‘ICAR FUSCIONT’ which was made from a novel strain of fungi called ‘Trichoderma EC’. This fungicide can control the Fusarium fungi from multiplying and affecting the roots. It also adds to the immunity of the banana plant. The fungicide needs to be applied at regular intervals during the crop cycle of the banana plant, which is for 14-16 months.
Banana cultivation is very profitable for Indian farmers. On average, a farmer can earn Rs 4 lakh from an acre. But Panama Disease can significantly decrease the yield and profits of the farmers by half.
The results of the experiments have been very encouraging. Many farmers, who Down to Earth spoke with, said this new fungicide has been a god-send. They have seen their banana plantation revive in less than three months.
The COVID-19 crisis has been punctuated by frequent protests from healthcare workers—most often nurses and ASHA workers—complaining about unacceptable working conditions, inadequate staffing, low salaries, long hours of work, lack of personal protective equipment and so on. Instead of obtaining any respite, they have faced threats of dismissal or disciplinary action. Other than people clapping for them, and military helicopters showering petals over hospitals at the government’s command, almost nothing has been done for health workers during the pandemic.
Faced with a chronic shortage of staff, state governments are looking at short-term measures to shore up the public health system. In May, the Maharashtra government asked Kerala to lend it some nurses for a few months. Tamil Nadu has hired additional nursing staff, as well as doctors, on six-month contracts; the nurses will be paid just Rs 14,000 a month. Many states and local governments are recruiting workers paid by the day to carry out community surveys. Anganwadi workers and ASHA workers have been roped in to perform many tasks.
Meanwhile, the centre’s emergency allocation of Rs 15,000 crore for healthcare is to be divided between 28 states and eight union territories, and spent over four years. This represents just 0.075 percent of the stimulus package to deal with the economic fallout of the pandemic; even after all these months, there is no clarity on how it will be spent. The government has announced that Rs 2,000 crore from the PM CARES fund has been set aside to manufacture ventilators, but what about the specialised workers needed to operate them and the money to pay their salaries?
The pandemic has, once again, exposed a broken health system. India has just 1.7 nurses—in both private and public employment—for every thousand people, against the World Health Organisation-mandated three. The vast majority of Indians lack access to affordable medical care; in per-capita health spending, India ranks among the lowest in the world. (Sri Lanka spends four times as much, and Thailand ten times.) State governments have passed ordinances to reserve beds for COVID-19 patients in private hospitals, but the failure to create robust regulatory systems ensures that people are either refused treatment or made to pay astronomical bills.
The system is broken, not just for patients, but the majority of workers—nurses, technicians, paramedics, sanitation staff and others—employed in it. The pandemic merely underscores the urgent necessity of reform. Yet, both public and political discourses remain silent about healthcare: this implies a widespread belief that we can manage the pandemic, and the challenges to come, without fundamental change. This fantasy is morally unacceptable and extremely dangerous; the sooner we set about changing it, the better.
The exploitation of health workers is rooted in India’s social prejudices, the systematic undermining of labour laws, the decay of public services and the persistent refusal to regulate private healthcare. All these failures have deep roots.
In 1943, the colonial government set up an official body, known as the Bhore committee, to make recommendations on healthcare. Its report was submitted in 1946, just before India became independent. The report defined health as a public good, and recommended a public healthcare system, but had nothing to say about the private sector. Nehru’s government, citing a lack of money, favoured a small public system, to be expanded incrementally. Meanwhile, private practitioners were given a free hand—demands for regulation to preserve standards and prevent exploitation evaporated in the face of lobbying by doctors.
The basic framework of labour regulation was also created during the late 1940s and 1950s. Factory workers became an increasingly organised and powerful political force around this time, demanding laws to protect their rights. Labour, like health, was a concurrent subject, with both central and state governments involved in framing laws. Despite campaigns by trade unions, few laws were enacted to regulate small industries or services: the standard argument was that they would become uncompetitive if forced to pay workers properly. Elected representatives questioned the very necessity of giving workers paid leave. They complained that labour laws would spoil “familial relationships” at workplaces; that idleness would induce mischief; that workers would not know what to do with so many holidays. The legislation that was eventually passed contained loopholes designed to make it ineffective.
The state also reserved extensive discretionary powers to grant exemptions and define key terms and provisions. For example, in 1947, the Madras Shops and Establishments Act was passed to regulate working hours and holidays: all nursing homes, hospitals and lawyers’ chambers in the province were included in its ambit. This met with strong opposition in the Madras Legislative Council. Several lawyers and doctors among its members expressed indignation that the “learned professions” should be thus treated. A year later, their offices and establishments were exempted. In the end, a combination of legal challenges and exemptions excluded the vast majority of workers in small industries and services from the very laws purportedly enacted to protect them.State policies on labour and healthcare have a reciprocal effect on each other. Globally, workers were at the heart of key debates on social welfare during the middle decades of the twentieth century. The Second World War promoted unionisation, for labour played a critical role in the war effort. In the United Kingdom, this led to the Beveridge Report of 1942, promising social security for everyone, and the creation of the National Health Service after the war ended. BR Ambedkar, as the labour minister on the viceroy’s Executive Council during the war, tried to invite William Beveridge to India to prepare a comparable report. However, when the terms of his proposed investigation were narrowed down to the factory workforce, Beveridge withdrew. Instead, the economist BP Adarkar was chosen to write a report that recommended a health-insurance scheme and dedicated hospitals for permanent workers in large factories—these comprised only a tiny fraction of the workforce. The possibility of universal healthcare was set aside, along with legal protection for workers in small industries.
After 1947, India failed to develop a legal framework to hold the vast majority of employers accountable for working conditions or workers’ rights. It also failed to provide essential services such as education and healthcare. Lack of money was cited as an excuse, but, even though revenues and finances improved in subsequent decades, the state’s approach showed no change.
Private healthcare expanded rapidly, beginning in the 1980s, with the encouragement of politicians and policymakers. It became corporatised, with the emergence of hospital chains such as Apollo. Private investment in medical education mushroomed. Multinational companies were granted licenses to manufacture drugs. Later, state governments set up insurance schemes allowing patients to obtain medical treatment in private hospitals. The sole, halting attempt to expand public healthcare occurred during the United Progressive Alliance’s first administration, between 2004 and 2009, when the National Rural Health Mission was set up at the urging of health networks on the margins of public discussion. Since 2014, the focus has shifted to more privatisation: the NITI Aayog is encouraging state governments to lease public hospitals to the private sector.
The state’s withdrawal from healthcare has gone hand in hand with its unwillingness to regulate the private sector. As many as 15 states have no legislation to register or regulate medical establishments. In 2010, the central government enacted the Clinical Establishments Act, prescribing registration and minimum standards for facilities and services (but saying nothing about working conditions or the wages of health workers). This law was energetically opposed by doctors’ associations, including the Medical Council of India, and has been adopted by only a handful of states.
Until the 1980s, the public sector provided secure employment, but without any mechanisms of accountability or transparency. The health system was marked by widespread corruption and poor standards of training and care. Later, contract-based work began to find favour. Most health workers nowadays are hired on temporary contracts. An increasing proportion of sanitation and paramedical staff are also sub-contracted. In addition, the National Rural Health Mission created a new category of “volunteer”—the Accredited Social Health Activist, or ASHA worker. In place of salaries, they are paid incentives based on official targets for institutional births and immunisation.
The private sector has always been marked by low pay and insecure contracts for most employees, except senior doctors and administrators. Between 2010 and 2011, nurses employed in private hospitals went on strike in several states. At the time, it was reported that their salaries—ranging from three thousand to six thousand rupees a month—were below the minimum wage. The strikes raised this somewhat although pay remains very low: roughly twelve thousand to fourteen thousand rupees a month for a trained nurse in Tamil Nadu (this applies to those employed in the private sector and contract nurses in the public sector), and much less for auxiliary and village health nurses on short-term contracts.
Training to become a nurse is rigorous, time-consuming and expensive. A three- or four-year course in a private institution costs between three lakh and five lakh rupees—88 percent of the country’s nursing institutes, producing 95 percent of all nurses, are privately owned. Most graduates accumulate large debts to pay for their education; confronted with bad working conditions, little respect, and low salaries, the dream of every nurse who cannot obtain a public-sector job is to go abroad.
Health workers face active hostility from the state, the courts and the public at large when they seek to improve wages or working conditions. State governments routinely deploy the Essential Services Act to prevent strikes. In November 2017, the Madras High Court ordered striking contract nurses employed by the state to return to work. The judges gratuitously advised them to give up their jobs if they felt they were being underpaid, for “the public” could not be made to suffer.
The notion of nursing as a calling or service is very common. These terms are rarely, if ever, applied to doctors. This reflects enduring divisions of gender, caste and class. Unpaid care work is overwhelmingly done by women and this association extends to jobs in health. Women dominate nursing—according to a WHO report, 83 percent of nurses in India are women. Their low earnings are a direct reflection of the view of care work as sewa, or service.
The notion of nursing as a calling or service is very common. These terms are rarely, if ever, applied to doctors.
Caste also plays an important role in determining the social and economic status of health workers. Members of the dominant castes usually avoid care work because of the social stigma attached to faeces, blood and death. A 2019 report from Oxfam India used data from the National Sample Survey to examine the caste composition of health workers. Of employees from dominant castes, 42 percent worked as doctors, 34 percent as technicians, and very few as nurses or cleaners. Among employees from the Other Backward Classes, 44 percent worked as technicians, 19 percent as doctors, and 6 percent as cleaners. Among Dalits, 41.5 percent were technicians and as many as 26 percent cleaners, with only three percent employed as doctors.
Historically, midwives in many parts of India hailed from Dalit castes. Although their skills protected lives, their work was considered polluting. They earned very little, and that mostly in kind. When missionaries set up the first training institutions for nurses, they struggled to find potential candidates. Nursing and midwifery were tied together in the public perception, and missionaries complained that no woman from “respectable” castes was willing to enter the profession. The first set of “native” nurses trained in the Madras Presidency in 1871 consisted of four Muslims and two Christians. Pregnant women from “respectable” castes avoided maternity hospitals because they feared to “lose caste.” Missionaries tried to work around this by training nurses who would help in home deliveries, but once again failed to get trainees from the “right” castes.
Nursing is less stigmatised nowadays, primarily because it offers an opportunity to emigrate to countries where there is greater respect and better pay. However, in India, it still remains a low-status job, badly paid and insecure. The situation of other health workers is even worse. As part of India’s vast informal sector—93 percent of the Indian workforce enjoys no legal rights—they are paid even lower wages, with even less security and hardly any benefits. Disdain for manual labour lies at the core of this denial of basic rights. Images of marching migrant workers and striking nurses have, if only for a moment, forced the middle class to acknowledge their essential contributions.
Over the years, many activists, union leaders and academics have suggested policies to improve workers’ rights and healthcare. Unfortunately, the two are rarely, if ever, examined in the same frame. The coming together of workers’ struggles and health campaigns might provide some momentum for change—especially if the middle class supported such a programme. But for that it will have to first recognise the value of a robust public health system. The failures of the private sector during the pandemic are quite clear.Respect for nurses, hospital attendants and sanitation workers is not something that comes naturally to members of the middle class, embedded in structures of caste and patriarchy. A childhood friend, trained at one of the best nursing institutions in Tamil Nadu, told me how a man being prepared for surgery once looked at her with pity, handed her a ten-rupee note, and remarked, “Poor thing, who knows who gave birth to you?” At the time, she was filled with shame for choosing a profession she considered noble, that would allow her to help others. In Europe, where she lives now, she encounters much more respect and gratitude for her work. If we cannot treat essential workers better, even in the midst of a pandemic, many others will follow the same path, leaving us just as vulnerable to the next crisis as we have been to this one.
After the abrogation of Article 370 last summer and the subsequent passing of the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act 2019, seven important commissions in the erstwhile state were dissolved. Among them was the State Commission for Protection of Women and Child Rights (SCPWCR)—serving the interests of the marginalised gender. Its dismissal has left several Kashmiri women in a lurch.
ONCE done with festive feeling of band, baja and bharaat, Isha Mir, 35, realized that she had just landed in a bad marriage. Her husband turned out to be “apathetic and abusive” from the word go. Neither does he let her be in contact with her parents nor does he allow her to meet them. She’s not even allowed a phone.
Her husband constantly tells her that this marriage was not fixed with his consent and on that pretext, talks to other women. After eight years of their marriage, she has two children with him and is not provided any kind of financial support. She has had family counselling many times but that didn’t improve her husband’s behaviour. When she confronted him about the women he talks to, he slapped her. She has previously complained against him but now she wants to take it to the court. But to her chagrin, the courtrooms in Kashmir are already crammed with countless cases during Covid times.
Her trouble equally comes from the order of October 23, 2019, that wound up the State Commission for Protection of Women and Child Rights (SCPWCR) from the erstwhile state of Jammu and Kashmir. It has left many women like her hanging by a thread.
What’s even worse is that with the dissolution of the SCPWCR, the ongoing cases of 270 Kashmiri women, which had reached the turn towards the final judgment, have been transferred to the National Commission for Women (NCW) headquartered in New Delhi.
Speaking about the role and authority of the NCW, Vasundhara Pathak Masoodi, the last chairperson of SCPWCR, recently said, “Just because we have a Supreme Court, it doesn’t mean that all the state-level cases will directly come to it; for that, you have different high courts for different states and UTs. Similarly, we should have a body in every state and UTs.”
Masoodi explained that if a woman from Delhi wished to register a case at the NCW, she would not be able to because there is a separate commission in place there. “NCW only takes up the cases of NRIs or people who are settled in different states of India. Besides, NCW monitors the functioning of the commissions of other states and UTs as well.”
But 10 months after the NCW overtook the obliterated SCPWCR, the ‘shifted’ files seem to have been lost in transition.
“Ever since the SCPWCR, or the women’s commission has been erased from Kashmir’s administrative system, women in need have been using every option imaginable for working towards ending their miseries,” said Sabreena Bhat, a Kashmiri writer who writes on gender issues.
“There was a body, some support that Kashmiri women could fall back on in the event of a crisis. Many women were almost on the verge of getting justice, before the legal change spoiled their fruit of perseverance.”
Even former chairperson of the SCPWCR, Nayeema Mehjoor admitted to having received several distress calls from the women she had interacted with during her tenure with the now-defunct body.
“After August 5, I received almost 15 distress calls every month and interestingly, most of the callers were women from North Kashmir,” she said.
In her years as the chairperson, Mehjoor had formed a network of 10,000 female volunteers – who continue to help her or the distress callers she refers to them.
“I had resigned from my post disgruntled by the invisible handcuffs. When the Kathua rape case happened, I was helpless. The same was my state when ‘braid chopping’ was rampant in Kashmir,” the journalist and former People’s Democratic Party (PDP) member told Kashmir Observer. Mehjoor stated that games of power kept her from freely expressing herself and speaking out on issues.
Arshie Qureshi, the co-founder of a new homegrown women’s cell called Mehram, informed that since its inception in June 2020, the new cell has been receiving an average of 3 cases per day related to gender-based violence/issues.
“Once the state commission was dissolved, a lot of pressure was put on the other resources and avenues that were working for the same cause,” Qureshi told Kashmir Observer
However, this has happened in the case of women who were aware of the options other than the commission, constituting a tiny minority within a minority in Kashmir.
“The women’s commission was known to women,” she said. “It was an avenue that they could use. Not having one any more obviously points to the lack of a support system for them. Also, it is pertinent to mention that when the perpetrators know that the women do not have a support system, the abuse they inflict aggravates.”
In the absence of a watchdog-like body for her issues, a woman named Sharifa who wants freedom and justice for her two kids from the clutches of her torturous in-laws has been running pillar to post for some redressal. Recently, she reached out to a female lawyer with the hope to obtain some help.
Since her marriage in 2014, she said, her in-laws have been harassing her to the point that they even tried to strangle her to death. She survived but she has had to listen to abuses consistently.
Sharifa said her husband also subjected her to domestic violence which even caused her a miscarriage during her first pregnancy. “He was involved in an extramarital affair,” she said, and in order to hide it, her in-laws have tried to defame her in society by calling her characterless.
She had lodged a police complaint against the accused but there was no action taken. She hopes for justice but due to the official apathy, her pain persists. Also, to add to her plight, her husband wants to end terms with her and her in-laws have also filed a case against her. She is in such deep distress that sometimes she wishes to commit suicide and have everything end in a single go.
Elaborating on such incapacitation of Kashmiri women, Sabreena Bhat, too, noted that, “Even if Kashmiri women (generally speaking) did not visit the commission enthusiastically for solving their problems, just knowing that they had an option was enough support.”
Since women in Kashmir are bred in a highly patriarchal society, going out of the bounds of their homes to report instances of domestic abuse or violence was a very big thing for them, she said.
“But at least they had the option,” she stressed. “Now, without the existence of such a body, we’ve nowhere to go. It goes without saying that this move has affected women and their safety a lot.”
Notably, in the two-month period of the ‘world’s strictest’ COVID-19 lockdown, announced by Prime Minister Narendra Modi on the eve of March 24, Jammu and Kashmir reported 16 cases of rape and 4 cases of molestation.
Needless to say, since these victims do not have a statutory professional body to seek support from, they are “left in a vacuum of sorts” as per Dr Touseef Rizvi, a psychology professor at Kashmir University.
“For the perpetrators, there’s nothing to act as a deterrent,” Dr Rizvi told Kashmir Observer. “Previously, they knew that their female housemates had the option of availing the services of the commission and that did serve as a deterrent.”
In absence of the commission, Arshie Qureshi’s Mehram, the organisation working to provide legal aid to women suffering from gender-based violence, has stretched the duties of the employees beyond the stated purpose now.
“We also need to provide psychological support to the victims and brainstorm about different ways in which we can engage with society to start a dialogue about these issues,” she said.
Last year, when all the communication lines were severed in the valley, social impact workers had trouble in helping and identifying victims of gender-based violence. In a few rare cases, the women would manage to come to them with their problems. If they knew the residential address of the worker, they would directly come to their homes. Some who managed to get their hands on a landline would try to reach out to their “Kashmiri sisters” placed outside of the Valley to narrate their ordeals.
“It’s important to know that women only use such ‘third-party options’, for redressal, when all the other options that are immediately accessible to them turn out to be useless,” Qureshi further explained.
“Whenever there is an incident of violence, the family members try to resolve it at the familial level. If that does not work, then it is taken up at the community level. When they cross and exhaust all these avenues they turn to bodies like ours.”
The victims who come in are generally very confused and nervous about the consequences of their complaints with the third-party. Torn between giving their abusers a ‘second chance’ and their innate wish to ‘move on’, the victims reportedly have a hard time choosing from the variety of redressal options placed in front of them by professionals at these non-governmental organisations.
“This is where the ‘counseling’ part comes in,” Qureshi continued. “Our legal professionals explain all the options to the complainant. She may file a court case, or an FIR with the police, or get us to intervene with the abusers or her own family which may be acting as a barrier. We negotiate and single out the best solution and help the victim’s case.”
Sometimes, these women are also presented with all the options and then given the time to think and choose the one they deem best. “Our job is to assure them that ‘we are here for them’ as long as they want help,” Qureshi said.
Backing Qureshi’s views and women welfare work, Sabreena Bhat said that in spite of SCPWCR’s presence in the past, women preferred to reach out to NGOs, like Mehram, for their issues.
“Be that as it may, the final destination for the files that such NGOs would compile would be the SCPWCR’s office until it was functional,” the writer mentioned.
At the end of the day, the NGOs would send all the troubles and complaints back to the apex office for its perusal. But now, with the body no more, all of the pending and existing cases that were stocked in the former state’s folders are in the NCW office.
Calling the NCW a “disaster”, Qureshi narrated her personal ordeal with the central body. “Somebody I knew had been incessantly harassed and there was a threat to her life. The police in Srinagar refused to file an FIR, so I had to contact the NCW for help. I kept calling on all numbers that were displayed on their website but no one picked up. I remember spending a good 2-3 hours on this. Finally, I took to Twitter and tagged the NCW and wrote my complaint online.”
It was only then that the NCW responded to Qureshi assuring her a reply after a short while. “This happened in the last week of May. The point of reaching the NCW was to get my contact’s case registered in absence of any local help,” she said.
Ironically, the NCW redirected her complaint, via email, back to Kashmir, to the SP’s (Superintendent of Police) office. Qureshi even went to check on the status of the case at the office but was told to go to another ‘office’ where the complaint was supposed to have been sent.
“Why do I have to go around from one office to another when the NCW had clearly said in their email that the complaint was sent to the SP? The SP’s office had asked me to go to a few places with the printout of the original email. What I am trying to underline here is that the process with the NCW is not at all streamlined and I do not even have an update on my complaint till now,” she sighed.
In the email, the NCW had stated that Qureshi’s complaint was a time-bound issue and the police must respond within 30 days of its filing. But even after the passage of a lot of time, she does not have an inkling about its status. “I followed up too, but it was of no use.”
Hameeda Nayeem, a prominent civil society member and retired English professor based in Srinagar, maintained that she had always dismissed the commission as “she never thought that it had ever resolved anything.”
She said that the SCPWCR only had “nominal and cosmetic value” in the Valley. “Woh bas daastaan sunte the, mujhe nahi lagta kaam kuch hota tha” (they would only listen to our stories, and I do not think that they ever did much).
“How will they?” she questioned, “It has all been a business appointed and conducted by New Delhi in Kashmir. Through these commissions they barely ever resolved the issues of women and only sought to achieve control over the population,” the fiery professor said.
Discussing the next possible course of action in Kashmir, Nayeema Mehjoor believed that it was foolish to make another commission after wiping out the old one.
Interestingly, Rekha Sharma, the chairperson of the NCW, while speaking to the media a while back had said, “Jammu and Kashmir will have its own Women’s Commission once the elections will be held in J&K and an Assembly will be constituted.”
“As an old officer in the administrative setup, I do not wish to see another commission but the reinstatement of Article 370,” Mehjoor, the ex-commissioner, said. “The dialogue between women can only begin once the special status is back and not without it.”
But until the political processes kickstart, the biggest issue remains the inability of victims to free themselves of the abuse, even when they wanted to, Sabreena Bhat said.
“Kashmiri women are unaware of their rights,” she said. “The general response by a Kashmiri woman, bred in this society, to her husband shouting at her would be: ‘if not at me, then at whom will he shout?’ I know women who are highly qualified and very outspoken in their professional field but are married to physically abusive partners and keep their mouth shut about it.”
In her view, young girls need to be educated and taught the basic difference between protecting the family’s honour and protecting themselves.
“In Kashmir people follow a lot of traditions and customs. These things are given more importance than religion at times. Outsiders paint the Kashmiri society as religiously extreme, but they do not know that when it comes to cultural traditions, Kashmiris overlook even religion,” Bhat shared.
She also asserted that the common perception: ‘mard toh mard hai, woh kuch bhi kar sakta hai’ (a man is a man, and hence he can do anything) is “the real rot in the system that needs to be ripped off” before any more discussions on women’s rights can be conducted.
Amid pandemic, smugglers and timber mafia seem to have a field day in Kashmir forests. Even as the plundered sights constantly fare online, the officials are maintaining a poised position on the critical matter.
a time when forest watchers and wardens are fighting flames in Zabarwan Range, Kashmir’s virtual space is bleeding with the green gold. Pictures showing chopped trees have once again surfaced online after reports of unabated axing came from north Kashmir’s Uri town.
Right under the nose of forest guards, a report said, the timber-smugglers are hacking the forest in a highly militarized zone falling in the close range of Line of Control (LoC). These looters were seen selling the booty in the nearby villages.
Taking serious note of the report, many netizens shared the wrecked wood scenes on their social media handles, making many believe that the valley has become a ‘plundered paradise’ in pandemic.
Sharing a picture of a ravaged forest site, a netizen named Sumaiya wrote: “In Botingu Sopore, all green trees chopped off.”
Kashmir’s award-winning photojournalist, Altaf Qadri, shared another pillaged photo, with a striking caption: “This is what’s they’ve done in Tosémaidan.”
As the disturbing trend gained mass and momentum online, many more came forward with disquieting visuals. One such image came from north Kashmir’s Bungus area. “This is what they are doing in Bungus,” a netizen wrote.
KO Investigation
Notably, axe had started falling on Kashmir forests as early as in April 2020 — when the valley was yet to complete a month under the Covid lockdown.
Acting on ground leads, KO team visited the Tangmarg-Gulmarg stretch to witness what looked like the tree massacre scene. It was April 16.
The following collage of a dozen plundered pictures captures the crisis on the ground.
‘Things Under Control’
Despite the screaming evidence, even gathered by district commissioner Pulwama during his surprise forest visit in the district during the early phase of pandemic, many forest officials term the situation under control.
“There was a spurt in smuggling in the beginning of the Covid lockdown, but things are under control now,” Irfan Rasool, Forest Conservator for North Kashmir, told Kashmir Observer.
“They [smugglers] are the people who’ve lost their jobs in tourism sector and are forced to do such things during the lockdown.”
So far, Irfan said, the forest department has seized 4,342 cubic feet of timber from smugglers, as well as confiscating 13 vehicles and 41 horses, and filing 103 police reports against 306 culprits involved.
“Timber smugglers largely took advantage of our ground staff’s inability to reach far-flung areas in the initial phase of Covid lockdown,” Mohit Gera, Principal Chief Conservator of Forests, told Kashmir Observer. “Our workers, who initially took part in the Covid fight back, are now resolutely patrolling and guarding our green gold.”
But despite this routine patrol, and launching a mobile app and toll-free number—for locals to report real-time timber theft—persistent smuggling cases are posing some serious questions on the department’s defense mechanism.
On August 13, Mohammad Sayeed Beigh, a Bandipora-based journalist, uploaded a video on his social media account, showing how smugglers have left behind blazing stumps in a forest. The billowing smoke was seen from the main town in Bandipora.
“Morning scene Chiternar Forest (timing 6:15 am Dated 13/8/2020). Burning of an uprooted tree. Major portion of the tree is missing. And yes our DFO office and Historical Forest training school is there,” Beigh wrote.
‘Insider Involved’
But while the spike was always there, said Mushtaq Pahalgami, Kashmir’s prominent environmental activist, the cases have just come in the limelight due to pandemic.
“There’s always an insider from the department helping such mafias in smuggling the timber,” Pahalgami told Kashmir Observer.
“I’m not saying that the entire system is involved, but there’s always someone helping these mafias from inside in order to get few benefits out of it. It’s a huge web.”
The National Education Policy (NEP) was approved by the Union Cabinet of India on July 28th, 2020. After a gap of 34 years, the Indian government consolidated feedback from 2.5 lakh village-level stakeholders to two national parliamentary level committees, over more than 50 months of consultations and workshops. However, the extent to which the policy has incorporated recommendations remains unknown.
In the midst of multiple op-eds and commentaries about the NEP, this article attempts to analyse the policy from the lens of practitioners. In particular, we examine nine key chapters of the ‘school education’ section from our experience over the last five years of having seen the policy life-cycle through formulation, implementation, and (lack of) evaluation in Maharashtra.
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All in all, while the policy is not legally bound to any action, it definitely makes clear the government’s vision to usher in some landmark changes to the education sector. As with any other policy, a lot will depend on transparent and swift implementation.
The city of Ayodhya in Uttar Pradesh has become the focus of national news even as the bhoomi pujan of the new Ram Mandir took place at the hands of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi. The bhoomi pujan, or foundation-stone laying ceremony, marked the culmination of the three-decade-long ‘Ram Janmabhoomi movement’ spearheaded by the Bharatiya Janata Party to reconstruct a temple believed to have stood on the site of the Babri Masjid, which was demolished in December 1992. The temple that predated the Babri Masjid is said to have been built on the spot that marks the site where Lord Rama was supposedly born.
Sadly, the controversy and politics that have made ‘Ayodhya’ such a politically and emotionally charged word have eclipsed the over 2,000-year recorded history of the place. While most people associate Ayodhya with events in the Hindu epic, the Ramayana, or with the ‘Ram Janmabhoomi agitation’, no one talks about the fact that it was one of the pre-eminent cities in ancient India.
Ayodhya in Itihaasa
According to ancient Indian tradition, the importance of Ayodhya stems from the fact that it was the capital of the ancient Ikshavaku Dynasty to which Lord Rama, the hero of the Ramayana, belonged. According to Hindu religious traditions, recorded history is divided into different yugas or epochs —Satya Yuga, Treta Yuga, Dwarpara Yuga and Kali Yuga. The Ramayana deals with events in the Treta Yuga or the second epoch.
King Ikshavaku, ‘son of the first human Manu’, founded the Solar or the Raghuvanshi Dynasty, which ruled over Kosala with Ayodhya as its capital. It is to King Dashrath of Ayodhya and his wife Kaushalya that Lord Rama was born. Sent into exile by his stepmother Kaikayi, Lord Rama defeated the King of Lanka, Ravana, and returned to rule over Ayodhya.
His descendants continued to rule Ayodhya for centuries. But, over time, Ayodhya was abandoned by Lord Rama’s descendants and was completely forgotten. The Treta Yuga was followed by the Dwarpara Yuga, when the events in the Mahabharata took place. According to Hindu beliefs, the age we live in today is called the Kali Yuga.
Ayodhya as the Ancient ‘Saketa’
Over the last century, numerous excavations have been carried out by archaeologists such as Alexander Cunningham (1862-63), A K Narain (1969-70) and B B Lal (1975-76), and these have helped us get an understanding of just how ancient the physical, archaeological site of Ayodhya is. The site was also excavated by the Archaeological Survey of India under B R Mani at the behest of the Allahabad High Court from March to August 2003. The earliest evidence of human settlement discovered by archaeologist A K Narain of Banaras Hindu University, during his excavation of Ayodhya in 1969-70, goes back to the 5th century BCE.
The earliest levels encountered by B R Mani were dated to 1100 BCE via C14 dating. This is perhaps of enormous importance as the beginnings of the Second Urbanisation can be seen germinating in the Black Slipped Ware recovered at the lowermost levels. This ceramic is the precursor to the Northern Black Polished Ware, which was the fine tableware of the period between the 6th and the 2nd centuries BCE.
One of the most comprehensive historical accounts of Ayodhya is by historian Hans Bakker from the University of Amsterdam. Bakker, who published his research in his book The History of Ayodhya: From the 7th Century BC to the Middle of the 18th Century (1986), traces how Ayodhya is one of the oldest cities in India, as old as Kashi, and was known as ‘Saketa’ in the ancient period. It emerged during what is known as the ‘Second Urbanisation Period’ in Indian history, dating from 600-200 BCE.
One of the most comprehensive historical accounts of Ayodhya is by historian Hans Bakker from the University of Amsterdam. Bakker, who published his research in his book The History of Ayodhya: From the 7th Century BC to the Middle of the 18th Century (1986), traces how Ayodhya is one of the oldest cities in India, as old as Kashi, and was known as ‘Saketa’ in the ancient period. It emerged during what is known as the ‘Second Urbanisation Period’ in Indian history, dating from 600-200 BCE.
This was one of the most formative periods in ancient Indian history, when villages grew into cities along critical river banks, trade and commerce thrived, and new religions and philosophies emerged. Old settlements such as Taxila, Kashi, Shravasti and Pataliputra became powerful cities. As trade and commerce flourished across India, two great trade routes emerged – the Uttarapatha (East-West Route) connecting Pataliputra (Patna) to Taxila (near Peshawar in present-day Pakistan), and the Dakshinapatha (North-South Route) connecting Rajagriha (Rajgir) to Pratisthana (Paithan) in the South. The place where these two important routes intersected was the trading town of ‘Saketa’, the site of present-day Ayodhya city.
Saketa was located in the Mahajanapada (Principality) of Kosala, whose capital was the city of Shravasti, around 80 km away. This was also the time of the ‘Sramana Movement’ in Indian history, when a large number of wandering ascetics travelled across India, preaching different philosophies. As an important trading town, with a large merchant population, Saketa also drew a lot of preachers and was home to a thriving community of Buddhists and Jains. Its location on an important south-bound crossing on the Ghaghara River a tributary which joins the Ganga at Chhapra not far from Pataliputra, also played an important role.
According to Buddhist canonical texts, Gautama Buddha is said to have visited the city several times, while Jain texts claim that two Jain tirthankaras, Parshvanath and Mahavira, preached at Saketa. The Buddhist and Jain congregations were held in the parks to the south of the town, and here the first foundations of their monastic establishments were laid.
Saketa had a number of Buddhist stupas with important Buddhist relics, as well as Jain temples, including the great temple of Adinatha (the first Jain Tirthankara). These were all destroyed during medieval times. In addition, there was also a large population which belonged to different sects of early Hinduism-worshipping Nagas (serpents), Yakshas (forest spirits) as well as Sun worshippers.
Around the 4th century BCE, Kosala was annexed to Magadha by King Ajatashatru. In time, Saketa became a minor trading town under the Mauryan Empire. From the archaeological remains found here, it can be seen that a number of Buddhist structures were built here during the rule of Emperor Ashoka. In Mauryan times, Saketa was a commercial centre of secondary importance.
Saketa Under Attack
Around 170 BCE, during the declining years of the Mauryan Empire, Saketa was invaded by the Indo-Greek king Demetrius, who had set out to conquer Pataliputra. We know of this from Rishi Patanjali, the great Sanskrit grammarian. In his Mahabhasya, a 2nd century BCE text on the rules of grammar, Rishi Patanjali engages in a discussion on an ‘imperfective tense’, explaining that “the imperfect should be used to signify an action not witnessed by the speaker but capable of being witnessed by him and known to people in general”. To illustrate his point, he cites an example: “Arunad Yavanah Saketam” (“Yavanas besieged Saketa”).
In the post-Mauryan period, Saketa was a minor local kingdom that paid tribute to the Shungas of Magadha. Three of the Puranas – the Yuga Purana, Vayu Purana and Brahmanda Purana – talk of the rule of the ‘Seven Mighty Kings of Saketa’, who ruled the region after the retreat of the Indo-Greeks or Yavanas from North India. The historicity of these seven kings of Saketa is corroborated by the numismatic evidence gathered from the discovery of the coins of the Deva Kings found in Faizabad district of Uttar Pradesh. From the coins, we know the names of at least five kings, who were Fuladeva, Vayudeva, Visakhadeva, Pathadeva, and Dhanadeva.
In the 2nd century CE, Saketa came under the rule of the Kushana Empire, under Emperor Kanishka. Until recently, evidence of the Kushana rule over Saketa was based on a large number of coin hoards as well as fragments of Kushana sculptures found here. But in 1993, a Kushana inscription was found in Rabatak village of Afghanistan, in which King Kanishka proudly proclaimed his rule:
“…unto the whole of the realm of the Kshatriyas… and the (city of) Saketa, and the (city of) Kausambi, and the (city of) Pataliputra, as far as the (city of) Sri-Campa”
The Kushana rule gave way to the Gupta Empire, in which Saketa would reach a new height of its grandeur.
Revival of Ayodhya and the ‘Vishnu Avatars’
Saketa entered its ‘golden age’ in the Gupta Empire, from the late 3rd century CE onwards. Under the Guptas, Hinduism also saw a great revival across the subcontinent. During this time, the earliest stone temples of India were built. The Gupta rulers encouraged the idea of ‘divine kings’ as can be seen from Emperor Samudragupta’s Allahabad inscription, which describes him as a “god dwelling on earth, being a mortal only in celebrating the rites of the observances of mankind”.
It was also during the rule of the Gupta emperors, in the 5th century CE, that Saketa began to be known as ‘Ayodhya’ and to be recognised as the exact location of the capital of the Ikshavaku kings of the Treta Yuga. The earliest known reference to Saketa as ‘Ayodhya’ is an inscription found in the village of Karamdanda around 24 km from the city. Dating to 435 CE, the inscription talks of donations given to ‘Brahmins of Ayodhya’ by Prithvisena, a minister of Gupta ruler Kumaragupta I (415-455 CE). Thus the city was not known as ‘Ayodhya’ prior to the Gupta Era.
Emperor Kumaragupta I was the half-brother of Prabhavatigupta, who was married to King Rudrasena II of the Vakataka Dynasty. According to historian Hans Bakker, Prabhavatigupta appears to have been one of the earliest known devotees of the Rama avatar of Vishnu. It is believed that Emperor Skandagupta (c. 455-467 CE) even moved his capital to Ayodhya, when a great flood ravaged Pataliputra. The identification of Saketa city as the ‘Ayodhya of Lord Ram’ was actively encouraged by the Gupta emperors. Their association with this sacred ground, they hoped, would give them religious legitimacy.
The theme of ‘reviving the glory of Ayodhya’ was extremely popular in 5th century India and can most notably be seen in Mahakavi Kalidasa’s work Raghuvania or Raghuvamsha, a story of how Lord Rama’s son ‘Kush’ returns to the capital of his ancestors to revive its former glory.
The fall of the Gupta Empire in the 6th century CE, and the Huna invasions under Mihirkula led to Ayodhya’s decline as a political and economic power centre, which shifted to Kannauj, around 250 km north near present-day Lucknow. But the deep association of Ayodhya with Lord Rama and the Ramayana had made it a major pilgrimage centre by now and thus saved it from the terminal decline that many ancient cities such as Shravasti, Kaushambi, Rajgir and Vaishali experienced.
Vishnu Worship and the Rise of Ram Bhakti
From the 5th century CE till the 11th century CE, Saketa / Ayodhya was one of the most important ‘Vaishnavite’ religious centres in India. Before the 11th century CE, most temples in Ayodhya were dedicated to Lord Vishnu, with images of Lord Rama in them. We can see something similar in the Vishnu shrines in Madhya Pradesh, which had shrines to the Varaha Avatar, or the Vishnu shrines in Andhra Pradesh, which had shrines to the Narasimha Avatar.
Chinese traveller Hiuen Tsang, who visited Ayodhya during the reign of King Harshavardhana of Kannauj (636-640 CE), also left us a description of the city. According to him, the city measured 20 li (0.8 km) in circumference, which corresponds to the present old city of Ayodhya, and it had a moat around it like Pataliputra did. Hiuen Tsang also wrote of the ‘Ten great temples dedicated to the Devas’ in the city.
Following the death of King Harshavardhana of Kannauj, North India was split into numerous petty kingdoms. We know that around 1090 CE, Ayodhya was ruled by King Chandradeva of Kannauj, who built a large temple dedicated to ‘Chandrahari’ or the ‘Moon God’ on the banks of River Sarayu, which was demolished on the orders of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb.
Interestingly, according to B R Mani, the most recent excavations at Ayodhya revealed the remnants of a circular temple base belonging to the 10th-11th century CE very similar to other such Shaivaite shrines found in other excavations in the Ganga Valley. This further muddles the context as there seems to have been a Shaivaite temple at what should have been a Vaishnavite shrine.
In 1193 CE, Ayodhya came under the Delhi Sultanate, when King Jayachand of Kannauj was defeated by Muhammad Ghori. Strangely, the only known temple destroyed in Ayodhya at the time was the famous Adinath Jain temple.
The rise of the Delhi Sultanate also coincided with the rise of the ‘Bhakti movement’ in India. Moving away from ritualism, Bhakti preachers propagated the concept of devotion to a personal god. It is during this time that the Rama and Krishna avatars of Vishnu became extremely popular, as it was easy for common folk to connect with them. Graduating from sub-shrines, temples dedicated to the ‘Rama Avatar of Vishnu’ began to be built across India. By the 12th century CE, it was believed that three temples dedicated exclusively to Lord Rama were built in Ayodhya, though no trace of them survive today.
Numerous temples in Ayodhya were destroyed during Mughal rule. In 1528-29 CE, Mir Baqi, General of Mughal Emperor Babur, demolished a temple and built what is known as the ‘Babri Masjid’. A number of temples were also demolished here during the reign of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb.
Ayodhya under the Nawabs of Awadh
The age of intolerance and destruction under Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb was replaced by the rule of the more tolerant Nawabs of Awadh. Following the death of Aurangzeb, numerous provincial governors became semi-independent. Among them were the Shia Nawabs of Awadh.
The Nawabs established their capital at Faizabad, just 6 km from Ayodhya. During their reign, a large number of temples and maths were established here by rulers from different parts of India such as Ahilyabai Holkar, the Rajas of Jaipur, the Bhosles of Nagpur and so on. The tolerance of the Nawabs of Awadh can be seen from the fact that Ayodhya’s most prominent temple of Hanumangarhi was built in 1774 CE, on 20 acres of land endowed by Nawab Shuja-ud-Daulah. The temple still has a Persian plaque, which mentions this donation.
When in 1855, Islamic fundamentalists under local Sunni leader, Maulvi Amir Ali Amethavi attempted to take over the temples of Ayodhya, Awadh’s last Nawab Wajid Ali Shah even sent his army to suppress this, and Amir Ali Amethavi and 300 of his supporters were killed in a battle in the Bara Banki district.
Sadly, this episode also sowed the seeds of Hindu-Muslim discord in Ayodhya, and it was during this time that some Hindus sadhus attacked the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya, in retaliation. In 1883, another group of Hindu sadhus attempted to construct a temple on the platform near the Babri Masjid. The case went to the courts and the lawsuit was dismissed in 1886.
In 1946, an offshoot of the Hindu Mahasabha called the Akhil Bharatiya Ramayana Mahasabha (ABRM) started an agitation for possession of the site, where the Babri Masjid stood. In 1949, Sant Digvijay Nath of the Gorakhnath Math joined the ABRM and organised a nine-day, continuous recitation of the Ramcharit Manas, at the end of which Hindu activists broke into the mosque and placed idols of Rama and Sita inside. People were led to believe that the idols had ‘miraculously’ appeared inside the mosque. By the 1980s, the ‘Ram Janmabhumi movement’ was revived by the BJP under L K Advani and Murli Manohar Joshi. On 6th December 1992, the Babri Masjid was demolished, leading to riots across India.
With the bhoomi pujan of the new Ram temple, a new chapter in Ayodhya’s history begins.
New Delhi: “The only source of my income comes from weaving and paddy cultivation. The COVID-19 pandemic and the flood have left us with little to stay afloat and there is a looming uncertainty pervading our livelihoods and future,” says Bonjita Chungkrang.
The 34-year-old weaver from Laibeel in Assam’s Sivasagar district is worried about providing support to her family.
Many people are aware that COVID-19 has negatively impacted businesses and industries. During this global pandemic, many companies have closed for long periods due to local or national restrictions. However, what the current floods have done to the weavers of Assam is heartwrenching. The handloom industry has faced one of the most significant financial blows with this combination of flood and pandemic.
Handloom has an overwhelming presence in the socio-economic life of Assam since time immemorial.
Handloom has an overwhelming presence in the socio-economic life of Assam since time immemorial.
Sualkuchi, located 35 km west from Guwahati, is known as the ‘Manchester of East’ for its contribution to the crafts industry and its weavers are famous worldwide for their exquisite Paat, Muga, and Eri silk work. The handloom weavers are unique in that they still use original technology and have not converted to automation. They are often praised for their beautiful, intricate work on special occasion clothing. Most people do not wear hand-woven clothing as everyday attire.
Due to the current conditions, many hand weavers have no income and haven’t earned anything for several months. A hit to this industry is more than a manufacturer having financial difficulty. The damage is also more than a pandemic. The floods have exacerbated the financial insecurity of this industry.
Assam is the leading producer; therefore, when they are unable to work, these silks go unseen and unproduced. This is more than fashion; it is a matter of preserving an art.
A report by India Today on May 5, 2020, “The coronavirus lockdown has severely affected the silk industry in Assam which has already incurred losses to the tune of Rs 100 crore.”
While many of the manufacturers have cloth that remains unsold, efforts are being made to convert them into masks to continue providing income to these companies. Social benefits have been helpful, but with no income, rations are not sustaining these companies or individuals
Arup Kumar Baishya of AVA Creations states, “We need to reach out to the buyers who actually understand and respect handloom and with the digital way we can reach out to the world. We also need to emphasis on manufacturing ‘need’ base products rather than ‘want’ based products.”
While the want-based products such as celebratory clothing have been the basis for businesses for a long time, weavers are being forced to adapt their products. Masks have been a saving grace for some of these weavers, but it is not the industry that they have grown to know and love.
This industry is new to them. They have to adapt the designs and features so that they are more productive and useful rather than decorative. Baishya’s birthplace is Sualkuchi, which is famous in India for handweaving and has been a part of this community since birth. This is more than a loss of revenue. It is a loss of community.
Masks have been a saving grace for some of these weavers, but it is not the industry that they have grown to know and love.
Many weavers have been significantly impacted by the changes since the lockdowns began.
Mohan Bora, a social activist,says, “It is a socio-cultural catastrophe. Weaving is considered a part of Assam’s cultural heritage. Wearing hand-woven clothes is part of many festivals like Bihu and Durga Puja. Thus, the economic crisis in the handloom sector can very well be seen as a cultural loss as well.”
Financially, the government has compensated some of them, but they have not had the same level of income at all.
Barsha Phukan, a fashion designer and entrepreneur, has tried to maintain her employees’ salary and work during these trying times, but she has not been successful in continuing to grow during the pandemic. She says, “Weavers are our backbone. I have currently 25 weavers, who have been working with me for the last six years. If we don’t help them in these trying times, they have nowhere to go. I am paying them full salary and accommodation till now, though there is hardly any revenue in the recent months.”
She continues to try to help the weavers though it is causing financial strain of her own. She must repay the loans that she receives, but she wants to make sure that these weavers do not lose their incomes. This is an impossible situation for many. She has attempted to get help from the government and has been assured that they will, but the situation is rapidly deteriorating for weavers waiting for help.
Phukan says, “First the pandemic and, now, the annual flood, the weaver’s community is completely devastated financially, physically and mentally. Some like-minded people among ourselves are on the talks to help the weavers. Once the lockdown is over, we have some plans for the weavers and to revive our industry too.”
Her struggle is not unusual.
Phukan is not the only advocate for this group, however. Asomee Datta Barooah is a grassroots activist working diligently to change the situation for these weavers. She notes, “Artisans and weavers are crying for help and my heart bleeds. They don’t have food to eat. They don’t have a roof under them to stay safe. Some of their children are sick but they are unable to avail medicines. I’m coordinating with several orgaisations for relief and collaboration. I am trying my best to sell off the pre-woven clothes through retailers.”
Everyone is trying to help these groups. They are accustomed to the annual flooding in the area, but this comes as a second wave of financial loss with the pandemic. Luckily, some weavers have been able to convert to mask production, but it is not easy. Entrepreneurs like Dhruba Jyoti Deka, founder of Brahmaputra Fables, have been more successful with the conversion to masks.
He states, “During the first lockdown, we encouraged our weavers to convert pre-woven unstitched cloth materials into masks, because there was no point for keeping that inventory, and we need to sustain as a community. As masks were essentials, and that we could ship, we made masks out of handloom materials by following proper guidelines by ministry of family and health welfare. Our weavers made more than Rs 2 lakh by selling masks during pandemic. We believe in community entrepreneurship, thus we are collectively working with Northeast Network – an NGO, AVA Foundations, and Elephant Country of Balipara Foundation for shipping masks.”
Deka has been able to help the local weavers and cloth producers to continue making useful materials. This time it is making masks.
Government restrictions have been costly to the industry, though. They often have products ready to be sold, but the government bans have halted sales.
Government restrictions have been costly to the industry, though. They often have products ready to be sold, but the government bans have halted sales. They cannot collect revenues on finished products. They are just waiting on the go-ahead from the government. While many weavers understand the need for a shutdown, they are disheartened by these restrictions.
Kongkon Thackur expresses concern, “We train them, work closely with them, sell their products to Central govt, and help them earn money. Now because of the current situation, we’re not able to earn any kind of revenue. Products are ready, but we don’t have any medium to collect and sell them because of the restriction of movement. We feel like giving up on our hopes and dreams.”
These are soul-crushing blows to the weaving community. The lockdown was hard enough, but now the villagers have do deal with flooding too.
Kaberi Kochari Rajkonwar, director of Srishti Handlooms Limited, is worried. “We are known for our gamocha and traditional Assamese wear production. But this time we couldn’t sell anything during Rongali Bihu because of lockdown. All pre-woven clothes are lying. Some are getting damaged due to flood waters,” she says.
Rotting woven fabric is not going to help boost the economy even without the pandemic. Flooding is taking what little is left of the hand weavers’ inventory.
The floods and pandemic as a combination may have some irreversible damage to the weaving community.
The floods and pandemic as a combination may have some irreversible damage to the weaving community. Some weavers may eventually have to look for work in other industries. Since this is such a unique ability, we could lose some of our best weavers. They are trying to wait this pandemic and flood out.
Juri Basumatary says, “I was weaving since last the last four years, I am a single mother of two children, and weaving is the source of income for our family, as lockdown started, it’s getting really tough for us. We are tired of asking financial support from government. I need raw materials to start weaving again and earn the basic livelihood for my children.”
This flood following a pandemic has been devastating. She is not looking for government handouts and wants to earn her living. This situation has caused her to need assistance that she is not accustomed to needing.
The government has tried to provide some assistance to these weavers, but it is simply not enough. They have lost nearly all ability to provide income.
The government has tried to provide some assistance to these weavers, but it is simply not enough. They have lost nearly all ability to provide income. The government assistance would not be as necessary if some of the sales restrictions were lifted or relaxed so that they may sell their goods.
Meanwhile, handloom & textiles director Kabita Deka says that a highlevel committee has been formed to workout a solution. “There are discussions going on for providing incentives to the weavers. The current Covid-19 situation was totally unexpected. And since it involves financial support, it is taking some time,” she says.
“We have had several meetings regarding this and we want to help out our weavers. We understand their plight; unlike previous years they couldn’t sell much this Bihu. We’re figuring out ways to advertise and put on the market their unsold products. We’re very much hopeful that things will fall into place. We will act as per the direction provided and funded support,” Deka adds.
Angashikha Gogoi, founder of BUTA Axom, says, “The government interference is not that enough to make their lives better. As far as the information provided to us by our weavers, the government officials have visited them only once during this flood, and they have probably got only a single time relief like food grains and other products from them.”
Single relief will barely help these weavers. They need more consistent help. The need for more to be done will only grow during this season.
Single relief will barely help these weavers. They need more consistent help. The need for more to be done will only grow during this season. Flooding is not unusual at this point in the year, and with the virus being a worldwide concern, the weavers’ livelihoods are at stake. They need to be able to provide for their families and not depend on the government. Of course, weavers such as Basumatary know that they cannot depend on a second household income to combat her loss of funding.
Bonjita Chungkrang is grateful for all the assistance but knows that it is not a long term solution.
“However, I would like to thank BUTA as they have been supporting me and my family massively in this grave situation, by providing regular financial support so that I can buy my daily necessities, they have been providing free yarns so that we continue with our employment, mobiles phones for online classes for our children, stand fans and so on.”
She has benefitted, but this is not the level of income that she needs to best provide for her family.
This is the first article in a five-part series on the Delhi violence of February 2020.
On March 11, 2020, a ‘Group of Intellectuals and Academicians (GIA)’ comprising Supreme Court advocate Monika Arora et. al submitted their 48-page report titled ‘Delhi Riots 2020: Report from Ground Zero – The Shaheen Bagh Model in North-East Delhi: From Dharna to Danga’ to the Union minister of state for home affairs, G. Kishen Reddy, in Delhi, portraying the arson, looting and bloodletting in North-East Delhi during February 23-26 as the handiwork of an ‘Urban-Naxal-Jihadi’ network’ (a term coined by the party in power at the Centre to discredit dissenters and civil society/academia, which has no basis in reality.)
On May 29, a similar 70-page report titled ‘Delhi Riots: Conspiracy Unraveled’ – Report of Fact Finding Committee on Riots in North-East Delhi during 23.02.2020 to 26.02.2020’, prepared on behalf of a group, Call for Justice (CFJ), by a six-member committee headed by Justice Ambadas Joshi, a retired judge of the Bombay high court), was submitted to the Union home minister, Amit Shah, in Delhi.
Main “Findings”
Both reports were unequivocal about their “findings”. The GIA Report concluded that:
Such “findings” were more than enough for the RSS mouthpiece “Organiser” to state:
“Even before the ground report from the riot hit parts of Delhi emerged, a large section of the media and the western media aided by their sepoys in India gave a partisan outlook to the riots and made the perpetrators into victims. The sufferings of the Hindus was [sic] deliberately ignored and only the statements of Muslims were recorded and publicised. Now, a ground report by the Fact Finding Team of Group of Intellectuals and Academicians (GIA) has exposed the conspiracy behind the anti-Hindu riots and also the media machinations behind it.” [Emphasis added]
Taking a cue from the GIA Report, Organiser was quick to conclude that “…a large section of the [Indian] media and the Western media…made the perpetrators into victims”! Admittedly, there are perpetrators and victims in such situations, but who the perpetrators and victims are is yet to be conclusively determined.
Incidentally, as per records, 53 people died during the violence. However, 39 out of the 52 identified bodies or 75 % belonged to the minority community. This by itself gives the lie to the narrative of “anti-Hindu” riots.
The main “findings” of the CFJ report, which was submitted to the Union Home Minister, were also similar in tone. According to the report:
What the call records say
According to one pro-establishment website:
“The Delhi Police informed the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) that its control room received 4,000 SOS calls in the wake of Delhi Anti-Hindu riots on February 25, the first day of US President Donald Trump’s visit to India. The calls were made by locals to narrate the horrific incidents of violence, arson and clashes.” [Emphasis added]
In fact, the number of SOS calls was apparently much more. The Hindustan Times (Delhi), reported on March 05, 2020, “On February 24 and 25 alone, when the communal violence was at peak in several parts of North East Delhi, the police control room received over 13,000 riots related calls.”
Whether it was 4000 or 13,000 distress calls, the fact is that the Delhi Police, which is under the direct control of the BJP government at the Centre, desisted from taking prompt action on those distress calls. It beggars belief that the police did not respond at once to stop the purported “anti-Hindu riots” resulting in “the horrific incidents of violence, arson and clashes” as the above-mentioned OpIndia report noted.
As per records accessed by NDTV in at least two police stations in violence-hit areas, in most of the cases reviewed, the column for action taken in response to distress calls was blank.
This included calls even from members of “Hindu establishments and homes which were targeted by the Islamist mobs”, as OpIndia has been claiming. Two specific instances would give an idea of the police inaction during the arson and looting allegedly perpetrated by “Islamist mobs”.
The first instance was of looting and arson in two schools in the violence-hit area sharing a boundary wall, one owned by a Hindu and the other by a Muslim. Dharmesh Sharma, administrative head of Shiv Vihar’s DRP Convent School told NDTV that despite making frantic calls to the police:
“The school kept burning for about 24 hours. Fire brigade never arrived. Apparently fire officials were also attacked.”
The CFJ Report has corroborated that:
“There were 3 attacks on the [DRP Public] school on February 24, 2020, due to which the police was called but they came at 8 p.m. on the next day, i.e., February 25, 2020.” [p.26]
Faisal Farukh, the owner of the Rajdhani Public Senior Secondary School, which shared a common boundary wall with DRP Convent School, also had an identical grievance. He told NDTV:
“They attacked us on Monday [24 Feb]. By 2 pm all the students and staff had left and around 4-5 pm all of this happened. We kept calling the police but they just kept saying ‘we are coming’. But they never came.”
Call records from the logs maintained at the Karawal Nagar Police Station provide further proof of police inaction to the said SOS calls. According to the same NDTV report:
“Shiv Vihar falls under Karawal Nagar police station.
“A review of the logs at the police station show at least two calls being made at around 3:54 pm on Monday [24 Feb], saying that the school was being attacked. The action taken column in both these cases says that it is pending.
“Several other distress calls to the police station were also marked as ‘pending’.”
Regarding the second instance of police inaction, in an interview to NDTV, Neetu Choudhary, cashier of the Arun Modern Senior Secondary School (owned by a Hindu), located in Brijpuri, lamented the failure of the police to respond to any of their numerous calls for help. She recounted that while the school was set on fire around 04.00 pm on February 25, the fire brigade arrived four hours later. By then, the raging fire had caused extensive damage. The CFJ Report too had taken note of this incident:
“Mr. Abhishek Sharma, who runs Arun Modern School, told that [sic] the mob captured the school on February 25, 2020. Police help was requested by civilians but police denied [sic] due to non-availability [sic] of orders.” [para (f), p.25]
While even the pro-Establishment website ‘OpIndia’ has acknowledged that thousands of distress calls were made to the police during the riots, barring a single mention in the GIA Report [p.8] of a PCR [police control room] call “…made by locals at 3.05 pm”, on February 23, both reports have scrupulously avoided asking why the Delhi Police failed to respond to distress calls, and that is very intriguing.
In a context where police organisations are perceived as having a majoritarian bias, ignoring SOS calls from the Muslim owner of a school is “understandable”, but what explains their lack of response to the frantic calls from the ‘Hindu’ owners of the other two schools?
Why did the Delhi Police, which comes under a BJP government at the Centre remain completely unresponsive when ‘Hindu’ victims, who were ostensibly being targeted by “Islamist mobs”, were crying for help?
Was there an ulterior motive in remaining indifferent? Or was the reality the very opposite of what is being claimed by these two “fact-finding” reports? Is there a possibility that the police was directed to remain passive as most of the arson, looting, and killings were actually being perpetrated by “Hindutva” mobs? It is also a bit strange that “anti-Hindu” rioters would burn down 14 mosques and a dargah, while “Not one of the many Hindu temples, big and small, in the entire area was reported to have been attacked.”
A closer examination of the chain of events will shed more light on the issue and may provide answers to these questions.
Timeline of violence
In the early morning, on February 23, 2020, i.e., a day prior to a major Supreme Court hearing relating to the ongoing protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), 2019, at Shaheen Bagh, a group of anti-CAA protesters, who were holding their protest near Jaffrabad Metro Station (North East Delhi), suddenly decided to block the Jaffrabad main road just outside the station. (page 8, GIA Report).
It was a completely unwarranted move since the Court was already questioning the logic of blocking public roads for organising protests. Were the protesters at Jaffrabad misled by some vested interests into taking this adventurous step – vested interests trying to infiltrate the protest movement to serve their own ends?
The objective of the protest movement was to generate empathy and support for the cause; it was not intended to alienate or incite others. Let us not forget that prior to this move there had been similar attempts to disrupt the protest movement at Shaheen Bagh, which had not succeeded. (If there is any influence of Salafi madarsas, as the GIA Report [page 44] has tried to imply, such groups should certainly be taken to task. However, the concerted attempt to dub every anti-CAA protester as a “Jihadist” is disingenuous.)
According to a February 23 report by NDTV, simultaneously “The protesters are also supporting nationwide strike call by Bhim Army chief Chandrashekhar Azad…” Whatever may have been the reason for blocking the Jaffrabad road at that time, ultimately, it was the protestors at Jaffrabad and elsewhere in the area, who were made to pay a heavy price for this misadventure.
The ‘events timeline’ on page 8 of the GIA Report states that CAA supporters (who are designated as “locals” in the Report) began to gather at Maujpur Chowk (which was close to the anti-CAA protest site at Jaffrabad Metro Station) on February 23 from 09.00 a.m. onwards, leading to the first round of clashes between the two groups (anti-CAA protestors and CAA supporters).
Subsequently, on the same day, Kapil Mishra (ex-MLA and a BJP politician), arrived at the spot and delivered a speech to a group of CAA supporters, also posting a summary of it on twitter.
However, the GIA Report has not even mentioned the fact that Mishra’s speech and tweet were inflammatory. A summary of that speech, delivered standing alongside the Deputy Commissioner of Police, Ved Prakash Surya (DCP North East Delhi), is very revealing. According to India Today (Delhi, February 27, 2020):
“On Sunday, Kapil Mishra had issued an ultimatum to the Delhi Police to clear the streets of the anti-Citizenship Amendment Act protesters.
Mishra tweeted (roughly translated from Hindi) stating, “Giving a three-day ultimatum to Delhi Police to clear the roads in Jaffrabad and Chand Bagh of protesters. Don’t try to reason with us after this, because we won’t pay heed.”
Kapil Mishra also attached a video with his tweet and wrote, “We will maintain peace until Donald Trump is in India. After that, we refuse to listen to even the police if the roads are not cleared…. we will be forced to hit the streets.”
The only action on the part of DCP Surya was to meekly walk away from the scene without even a warning to Kapil Mishra to not hold out any such threat that could lead to violence. Even if the anti-CAA protestors were wrong in blocking the road, the onus of maintaining law and order was on the police.
As for the CAA supporters, they had every right to complain to the police against such a blockade and also express their support for the cause they uphold. But intimidating anti-CAA protestors was certainly not the way to demonstrate their stance.
Incidentally, while the GIA Report has chosen to overlook the provocative speech of Kapil Mishra, the CFJ Report has conceded that:
“At around 03:00 pm, Kapil Mishra of the BJP, reached at Maujpur Chowk and in a provocative speech told the crowd there to hit the street if the Police failed to clear the protest site in Jaffrabad and Chand Bagh. He threatened that peace would be maintained only until US President Donald Trump leaves the country.”[p.46]
According to fresh information provided by a report in the Caravan, before his provocative speech at Maujpur, Kapil Mishra had delivered an incendiary speech just two kilometres away, in Kardampuri. Two complaints have been lodged with the Delhi Police in this regard:
“The complaints noted that on the afternoon of 23 February, Mishra gave an incendiary speech in Kardampuri, calling upon a mob to attack Muslim and Dalit protesters in the area. One of the complainants accused Mishra of brandishing a gun as he instigated the crowd.”
The open threats held out by Kapil Mishra had immediate effect.
According to information dug out by The Times of India:
“Delhi Police was sent at least six alerts on Sunday [23 Feb] warning of possible violence and asking for deployment to be stepped up after BJP functionary Kapil Mishra called for a gathering at northeast Delhi’s Maujpur…. Sources said the special branch and intelligence wing had sent multiple alerts through wireless radio messages to northeast district and the police brass. The first alert…was sent after Mishra posted a tweet at 1.22 pm asking people to assemble at Maujpur Chowk at 3 pm to support Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA).”
As reported by NDTV, about 700 distress calls were made to the Delhi Police on February 23 alone, which was a clear indication of a dangerous situation brewing in North East Delhi. Despite signs of an imminent flare-up, there are no indications whatsoever that the Delhi Police took requisite preventive steps to bring the situation under control. CNN-News 18 correspondent, Saahil Murli Menghani’s tweet at 20.07 hrs on February 23, 2020, from Maujpur, Jaffrabad, gives an idea of the kind of provocative slogans that CAA supporters had raised.The decision of Kapil Mishra and his associates to translate the open threat into action – physically confront the anti-CAA protesters on the roads – was the provocation that triggered a series of violent incidents. As a result, India Today (Delhi, February 24, 2020), reported at 04.25 pm:
“The tension in the Maujpur area in Delhi had escalated on Sunday [February 23] evening when a group of people pelted stones at another group that was holding a demonstration against the citizenship law.”
The Hindustan Times, too reported that:
“On the night of February 23, Maujpur saw clashes between pro Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) groups and those opposing it.” [see: photo 2]
Conditions went from bad to worse during the night and by the morning of February 24 it became evident that the situation was going out of control. According to the Caravan report, “A third complaint stated that on the morning after Mishra’s speech, police officials attacked protesters in Chand Bagh on his instructions.”
Whether or not Kapil Mishra had instigated the police to attack anti-CAA protesters can be established only after proper investigation. However, what happened subsequently is not in doubt.
According to India Today (Delhi, February 24, 2020),
“Police fired tear gas shells and also resorted to lathicharge as clashes broke out between pro and anti CAA groups at Jaffrabad, Maujpur, Chandbagh, Khureji Khas and Bhajanpura….
“Ratan Lal (42) a head constable attached to the office of ACP Gokalpuri, died after he sustained injuries during stone pelting at Gokalpuri….
“At least 11 police personnel, including Deputy Commissioner of Police (DCP), Shahdara, Amit Sharma and ACP (Gokalpuri) Anuj Kumar were injured while trying to quell the protests.”
It appears that there is video evidence to prove that the attack on the police took place around 12.40 pm on February 24. Head Constable Ratan Lal unfortunately succumbed to his injuries around 02.00 pm.
What followed was utterly bizarre: despite a Head Constable being killed; despite several other policemen (including two senior police officers) sustaining serious injuries; and despite purported “Jihadi mobs” [para 6, p.9, GIA Report] being on the rampage, the top brass of the Delhi Police and the Union Home Ministry seemed to be unconcerned about arresting the spread of violence! Adequate police force was still not deployed in the violence-affected areas! This was in spite of the fact that the police was continuously monitoring the developments through the use of drones.
The following sequence of events provide a glimpse of how and why the situation had deteriorated at a fast pace.
At 04.20 pm on February 24, India Today’s reporter, Tanushree Pandey tweeted:
“Unprecedented scenes in North East Delhi’s #Maujpur! #AntiCAA & pro-CAA protesters are overpowering hundreds of security forces. Agitators from both sides throwing stones, firing, and setting vehicles and shops ablaze. Never witnessed such large scale violence in National Capital.”
At 04.46 pm, February 24: Delhi Police tweeted, “Sec 144 has been imposed in the affected areas of North East district and strict action will be taken against miscreants and anti-social elements.”
However, little effort was made by the police to strictly implement Sec 144. The order was flouted with impunity as tweets by journalists around that time show. It is strange that no attempts were made to impose curfew to prevent group clashes!
At 05:20 pm, February 24, Arvind Ojha of India Today reported: “While Section 144 has been imposed in North East Delhi clashes broke out between pro and anti-CAA protesters in Maujpur, protesters from both the sides are still out in the streets. The police are trying to pacify the protesters. [Emphasis added]
At 05:46 pm, February 24: IndiaToday again reported, “No sight of police personnel in Maujpur, Ghonda, Chand Bagh areas where clashes have broken out.”
At the height of the ongoing clashes between pro and anti-CAA protesters, after “trying to pacify the protesters” from both sides, the police apparently withdrew from the affected area! Under whose orders — and for whose benefit – did the police take such a step?
The decision that impelled the police to lie low, which allowed the violent mobs to run amok, had immediate consequences.
At 05:57 pm, February 24, according to Sushant Mehra of India Today:
Obviously, much of the truth about the communal violence in North-East Delhi in February 2020 is yet to come out. This article, while critiquing the said two “fact-finding” Reports, is also an attempt to probe why some of the crucial questions relating to the violence continue to remain unanswered.
Patanjali Ayurved Ltd on July 1, 2020, said its Coronil and Swasari drugs, were cleared by the Union Ministry of Ayurveda, Unani, Siddha and Homeopathy or AYUSH. The company had earlier claimed the drugs could cure the novel coronavirus disease (COVID-19).
However, despite the ‘go-ahead’ of the government, significant questions remain unanswered.
Patanjali founder Ramdev told reporters in Haridwar the drugs would soon be available in the market. The AYUSH ministry had halted the publicity of drugs eight days ago.
After the press conference, an AYUSH ministry spokesperson said: “AYUSH ministry has only given permission to sell this particular product as immunity booster and not as a medicinal cure for COVID-19.”
Ramdev did not use the word ‘cure’ as well. But he reiterated that he stood by the ‘results’ of the clinical trial which he put out last week. Ramdev’s aide, Balkrishna, did use the Hindi word “theek” at least twice in the hour-long press meet in terms of result. “Theek” in English can translate to cure.
The Central Trials Registry of India (CTRI) has details about the trial design on the basis of which the AYUSH ministry has given permission to Patanjali. The details are reflected here according to the information given by the agency conducting the trial.
The title, according to CTRI, of the trial is, ‘Impact of Indian traditional Ayurvedic treatment regime for nCoV-2 (COVID-19)’. The word ‘treatment’ is present in the title itself while AYUSH’s spokesperson said the permission granted to the drugs was only for ‘immunity boosting’ and not cure.
There is another issue. “When the researchers designed the trial, they wanted to test its effectivity in patients with lab-proven COVID-19, not its preventive ability. The researchers are also talking about its preventive capacity (boosting the immune response),” SP Kalantri, medical superintendent at the Mahatma Gandhi Institute for Medical Sciences (MGIMS) in Sevagram, said.
“In no scientific trials is one allowed to change what is known as outcomes in the scientific parlance,” Kalantri added.
AYUSH ministry under scanner
The role of the AYUSH ministry is under the scanner for other reasons too. It sent a letter to the Uttarakhand state licensing authority, with a copy to Patanjali Ayurved on June 30.
“It has been observed that M / s Divya Pharmacy, Patanjali Research Foundation Trust has initiated necessary activities for the management of COVID-19 which is duly noted,” the letter said.
Ramdev now stresses that his drugs are for the ‘management’ of COVID-19, and not cure. “The scientific trials are designed to test either the ability of the drug to prevent a disease (prophylaxis) or its effectivity in achieving desired outcomes (treatment). We do not use the word “management” in a clinical trial,” Kalantri, who specialises in clinical research, said.
“It seems the ministry left it deliberately vague so that the Patanjali could use it to its advantage,” he added.
Anant Bhan, a bioethics expert, said this could be fraught with serious ramifications. “Management is a vague term. Till there is no scientific paper, or even a pre-print which can guarantee either treatment or prevention, we can’t believe in either outcomes. But people may not understand this,” he said.
“If Ramdev actually succeeds in transferring these drugs to stores, people may do panic buying. This may install a false sense of security in people and they may throw all social distancing norms to the winds. This will end up exacerbating the disease,” he added.
Down To Earth (DTE) called up and sent text messages to AYUSH ministry secretary Rajesh Kotecha to ask these questions. None were answered.
The phone calls and text messages sent to Uttarakhand Ayurved department licensing authority YS Rawat also did not yield a reply. DTE called up Patanjali’s spokesperson SK Tijarwala for a formal statement and a few follow-up questions. He disconnected the call even before questions could be put up.
But even if one were to get beyond the jugglery of words between the AYUSH ministry statement and Ramdev’s claims, there are still serious conflicting concerns.
Scientific claims not enough
The press release put out by Patanjali on July 1 reads: “Blood serum levels of C-reactive proteins (CRP), Interleukin-6 (IL-6) and TNF alpha cytokines were also detected to be significantly lower in Patanjali medicine treated COVID-19 recovered patients, than the placebo group.”
There are two arms of a randomised control trial — one which receives active form of the drug and the other which gets inactive form (also known as placebo group). The effect of drug on two arms is designed to compare and contrast the results between the two.
‘CRP’, ‘IL-6’ and ‘TNF alpha’ are cytokines whose levels get released multiple times in response to a serious infection. If one gets cured or treated, their level gets lowered. If cytokine levels are getting reduced, going by Ramdev’s own claims for the sake of argument, then this precisely means a cure. So, while Ramdev might avoid the word ‘cure’, as the AYUSH ministry is, but he is meaning exactly the same.
The press release also said 95 ‘mild’ and ‘moderately ill’ patients participated in the trial and cytokines level were detected to be significantly lower in ‘Patanjali medicine treated COVID-19 recovered patients’.
“In mildly ill patients, the cytokine levels don’t go up. They take their time to rise and do so in severely ill patients. The claim that the drug reduced the cytokine levels in all the patients sounds inexplicable,” Kalantri said.
This claim of reduction in cytokine levels is problematic at another level also. “Just to state simply that the levels got lowered is not how you communicate in science. We need to know the effect size and its precision. We also need to know how it was decided that a sample size of 90 patients was enough to understand the difference between two arms of the trial, if it existed,” Kalantri said.
“As for safety of the drug, the study mentions no adverse events in any study participant — a fact biologically impossible to accept. Normally, no new drug — Ayurvedic drugs included — is completely adverse-event free in all study participants,” Kalantri said.
These details can be known only if they are shared via a research paper in a journal, as a pre-print paper or even through press statements. DTE reached to the trial’s principal investigator Ganpat Devpura who is working with Jaipur-based National Institute of Medical Research and Sciences. “We have not yet shared results with CTRI. Once that is done, we will share with journals,” he said.
Asked if he could share those results with DTE as a press statement like pharma firms across the world are doing, Devpura replied in the negative. This, despite Ramdev claiming that these results had been shared with the AYUSH ministry.
The ministry, in turn, has so far refused to put these results either in the public domain or sharing with the media despite requests.
जून महिन्याच्या पहिल्या-दुसऱ्या आठवड्यात पाऊस पडला की शेतकरी खूप आनंदी होतो. उन्हाळी शेतीच्या मशागतीची कामे संपलेले असतात आणि खरीप हंगामातील पेरणीच्या कामांना वेग येतो. पेरणीच्या कामासंदर्भात बि-बियाणे, खते आणि अवजारांची जमवाजमव करून शेतीत कामे चालू होतात. शिवाय खरीप हंगामाची पेरणी वेळेवर होणार असे त्यामागे गृहीत असते. शेती चांगली पिकेल आणि उत्पादन जास्त मिळेल असा आशावाद शेतकऱ्यांमध्ये निर्माण होतो, कारण शेतकऱ्यांना शेती हेच वर्षभरासाठी उत्पन्न मिळवण्याचे एकमेव साधन असते.
चांगला पाऊस झाल्यावर (मराठवाड्यात आगुठ झाली असा शब्दप्रयोग आहे) शेतकरी पेरणीसाठी/बियाणे लागवड करण्यासाठी शेतकरी धावत कृषी सेवा केंद्र दुकानात जाऊन बियाणे–रासायनिक खते खरेदी करून आणतो आणि पेरणी करून काळ्यामाईची ओटी भरून टाकतो. मात्र बियाणेच उगवले नाही असे आढळून आल्यावर शेतकऱ्यांची अवस्था काय होत असेल याची कल्पनाच न केलेली बरी. कारण बियाणे, रसायनिक खते, मेहनत, वेळ हे सगळे वाया गेलेले असते. दुबार पेरणी केली तरी किती पीक पदरात पडेल याचा काहीच भरोसा राहत नाही. शेतकरी पूर्ण हताश झालेला असतो. अशाच प्रकारचे चित्र यावर्षी मराठवाडा आणि विदर्भातील अनेक गावांत आहे. सोयाबीनचे बियाणे उगवले नाही. खूप मोठ्या प्रमाणावर शेतकऱ्यांना दुबार पेरणी करण्याची वेळ आली आहे.
मराठवाड्यातील सर्वच जिल्हे आणि विदर्भातील यवतमाळ, वाशीम, बुलढाणा, अकोला आणि अमरावती या जिल्ह्यांतील कापसाच्या पिकाची लागवड कमी होऊन सोयाबीनची लागवड वाढली आहे. सोयाबीन लागवडीचा आकडा उपलब्ध नाही. मात्र मराठवाड्यातील आणि विदर्भातील अनेक जिल्ह्यातील अंदाजे 65 ते 70 टक्के क्षेत्रावर सोयाबीन लागवड करण्यात येते. याचे मुख्य कारण म्हणजे कापसाच्या भावामध्ये झालेली घसरण. कापसावर पडणारी बोंडआळी, तांबुरा रोग व इतर रोगराई या कारणाने उत्पादन क्षमता देखील कमी झाली आहे. याशिवाय सोयाबीन हे पीक घेतल्यानंतर रब्बी हंगामात ज्वारीचे पीक घेता येते. सोयाबीन आणि ज्वारी ही पिके घेणे शेतकऱ्यांच्या सोयीचे आहे. दुसरे असे की, पावसामुळे जरी एक पीक गेले तरी दुसरे पीक हातात पडेल अशी आशा शेतकऱ्यांना असते.
या वर्षातील बीड जिल्ह्यातील अनेक शेतकऱ्यांचा अनुभव सांगतो की, जून महिन्याच्या दुसऱ्या आठवड्यात केज तालुक्यातील (जिल्हा बीड) मुंडेवाडी, नरेवाडी, एकुरका, सारूर अशा अनेक गावातील अनेक शेतकऱ्यांनी ‘महागुजरात’ या बियाणे कंपनीचे सोयाबीन बॅग आणून शेतात पेरणी केली. (असेच चित्र सोयाबीन लागवड करण्यात येणाऱ्या इतर जिल्ह्यांतील अनेक गावांचे आहे.) आठ दिवस होऊनही बी उगवले नाही. त्यामुळे बियाणे बोगस आहे हे उघड झाले. (नंतर महाबीज या कंपनीच्या सोयाबीन या बियाणांच्या बाबतीत देखील असेच दिसून आले)
अनेक शेतकऱ्यांनी कृषिसेवा केंद्र दुकानदार यांच्याकडे तक्रार करायला सुरुवात केली. त्यावर कृषी सेवा केंद्रांनी बियाणे कंपनीकडे बोट दाखवले. कंपनीच्या संपर्क क्रमांकांवर फोन करून बियाणे उगवले नसल्याची तक्रार केली. शेतात येऊन पाहणी करतो असे कंपनीच्या प्रतिनिधी/सदस्यांकडून सांगण्यात आले. मात्र अनेक गावांमध्ये ते आले नसल्याचा शेतकऱ्यांचा अनुभव आहे. पण ‘बियाणे उगवले नाही आता पुढे काय?’ असा प्रश्न शेतकऱ्यांना पडला आहे.
दुबार पेरणी केल्याशिवाय पर्याय नाही. पुन्हा चांगले बियाणे मिळेल याची खात्री/विश्वास नाही. शिवाय पेरणीचा वेळ निघून जात आहे त्यामुळे मागास पेरणी होणार याची देखील चिंता. मागास पेरणीचा परिणाम उत्पादनावर होणार हे निश्चित.
कंपन्याचे प्रतिनिधी गावात बांधावरून पाहणी केल्याचा देखावा करत आहेत. 10 गावांतून तक्रारी आल्या तर एका गावात जाऊन पाहणी करायची भूमिका कंपनी प्रतिनिधींनी घेतली.
कंपनी प्रतिनिधी गावांमध्ये आल्यावर बियाणे बोगस/खराब आहे असे म्हणत नाही. तर काही ठिकाणी पाऊस जास्त झाला आहे, तर काही ठिकाणी ऊन जास्त झाले असल्याने बियाणे उगवले नाही असे म्हणून निसर्गाला दोष देत आहेत. एक प्रकारे हळूहळू जबाबदारी झटकण्याचे प्रकार होत आहेत. ज्यावेळी जागृत शेतकऱ्यांकडून कंपनी प्रतिनिधींना खडसावून जाब विचारले जाऊ लागले, त्यावेळी कंपनी प्रतिनिधींनी ‘आम्ही कंपनीला अहवाल देत आहोत’, अशी वेळ मारून नेण्याची भूमिका घेतली. पण अहवाल काय प्रकारचा पाठवत आहेत त्याची कॉपी सबंधित शेतकऱ्यांना/ कृषी सेवा केंद्र दुकानदार यांना देण्यात येत नाही. त्यांना अंधारात ठेवले जाते.
बियाणे उगवत नाही अशा तक्रारी आल्यानंतरही बोगस बियाणाची विक्री सर्रासपणे चालूच राहिली. शासनाने आणि कंपन्यांनी बियाणांची विक्री थांबवली नाही. महत्त्वाचे म्हणजे ‘बियाणे विक्री करण्यापूर्वी कंपन्यांनी टेस्टिंग केली होती का? त्यांच्या टेस्टिंगचे अहवाल काय सांगत आहेत?’ या गोष्टी अजूनही पुढे आलेल्या नाहीत.
‘राज्य शासनाकडून बियाणांचे प्रमाणीकरण करण्यात आले असूनही त्यांच्यामध्ये उगवण शक्ती का नाही? की प्रमाणीकरणातच काही घोळ आहेत? बियाणांच्या खेपेचे पासिंग करताना पुरेशा टेस्टिंग केल्या नाहीत का? बियाणे खराब असताना पासिंग कसे केले गेले आहे? शासनाच्या संबधित विभागाने याकडे दुर्लक्ष केले का?’ असे अनेक प्रश्न या निमित्ताने उभे राहिले आहेत.
28 जून 2020 रोजी मुख्यमंत्र्यांनी फेसबुक लाईव्हवर बोलताना, ‘अनेक कंपन्याचे बियाणे उगवले नाही मान्य करत ज्या कंपन्यांचे बियाणे उगवले नाही त्या कंपन्यावर कारवाई करण्यात येईल’, असे आश्वासन दिले. तसेच, ‘सरकार शेतकऱ्यांच्या बाजूने असेल’, असे सांगितले. बोगस बियाणे विक्री करणाऱ्या कंपन्यावर कारवाई होईलही. पण या खरीप हंगामात शेतकऱ्यांचे नुकसान झाले आहे त्याचे काय?
ज्यावेळी बोगस बियाणांची विक्री चालू होती त्यावेळी शासनाने कारवाई का केली नाही? शासनाच्या कर्मचारी/ प्रतिनिधींनी बियाणे न उगवलेल्या शेतीवर जाऊन पंचनामे देखील करण्यात आले नाहीत. विभागनिहाय, जिल्हानिहाय किती शेतकऱ्यांच्या शेतामध्ये बियाणे उगवले नाही याची आकडेवारी शासनाकडे नाहीत. गावपातळीवर तलाठी आणि कृषी सहाय्यक यांनीदेखील बियाणे न उगवल्याची आकडेवारी जमा केली नाही.
या बोगस बियाणे विक्रीकडे जिल्हा, तालुका पातळीवरील कृषी विभागाने दुर्लक्ष केले. शासनाचे गाव पातळीवरील कृषी आणि तलाठी (महसूल) कार्यालय या बाबतीत काहीच हालचाली करत नाही. अनेक गावांतील कृषी सहाय्यकांना तर गावाचा शिवार माहीत नाही. गावकऱ्यांना कृषी सहाय्यक कोण आहेत हेच माहित नाही.
“कृषी सहाय्यक पेरणीच्या दिवसात गावात येत नाहीत. पेरणीच्या दिवसात गाव पातळीवरील शेतकऱ्यांना मदत करणारे प्रशासकीय कर्मचारी आणि अधिकारी झोपलेले आहेत. शासनाच्या प्रतिनिधींकडून किंवा गाव पातळीवरील शेती आणि कृषी संदर्भातील असलेले कर्मचारी (कृषी सहाय्यक आणि तलाठी) यांच्याकडून पंचनामे करण्यात आले नाहीत. हे कर्मचारी शेतकऱ्यांच्या बांधावर जात नाहीत” अशी देखील वस्तुस्थिती अनेक गावकऱ्यांनी नोंदवली आहे.
कृषी आणि तलाठी कर्मचाऱ्यांची कार्यालये अपवादात्मक वगळता तालूक्याच्या ठिकाणी आहेत. शेतकऱ्यांना काही कागदपत्रांची गरज भासली तर तालुक्याला जाऊन या कर्मचाऱ्यांच्या पायी मुजरा करावा लागतो. या कर्मचाऱ्यांना शेतकऱ्यांप्रती संवेदनशीलता नाही.
एकीकडे शेतकऱ्यांना कोरोनामुळे फटका बसला होता, त्यात आता या बोगस बियाणांची भर पडली आहे. दुबार पेरणी करून दुप्पट पैसे खर्च होत आहे. पेरणीसाठी अनेक शेतकऱ्यांनी कर्ज काढलेले आहे. आता ते पुन्हा कर्जाच्या खाईत लोटले जाण्याची मोठी भीती आहे.
शेती चांगली पिकावी आणि त्यातून उत्पादन मिळावे यासाठी उन्हाळ्यापासून मशागत करून पेरणीसाठी उपयुक्त शेती शेतकऱ्यांनी तयार केलेली असते. दोन महिन्यांपासून मेहनत घेत उन्हाळा नांगरणी, उन्हाळखर्डा, पाळी-मोगडा, पेरणी इत्यादी गोष्टी केलेल्या असतात. शेतीसाठी यंत्रे, सामग्री, अवजारे, बियाणे-रसायनिक खते, या सर्वांचा केवळ पेरणी करेपर्यंत 7500 ते 8000 रुपये एकरी खर्च शेतकऱ्यांना येतो. यामध्ये शेतकऱ्यांची स्वत:ची मजुरी वगळली आहे. शिवाय या सगळ्यांत वेळ वाया जातो तो वेगळाच. इतकी मेहनत घेऊनही बियाणे उगवले नाही याचा शेतकऱ्याला किती मानसिक त्रास होत असेल, याचा विचारही करवत नाही.
अमरावती जिल्ह्यात शेतकऱ्यांच्या महाबीज कंपनीच्या सोयाबीन बियाणाच्या तक्रारी वाढल्या असता ‘पुन्हा दुसरे बियाणे देईल. जर बियाणे उपलब्ध झाले नाही तर बियाण्यांचे पैसे धनादेशद्वारे परत करण्यात येतील.’, असे कंपनीकडून सांगण्यात आले होते. पण केवळ बियाणांचा परतावा करणे पुरेसे आहे का? शेतकऱ्यांची मेहनत, खर्च, वेळ आणि मानसिक स्वास्थ्य यांचे काहीच मूल्य नाही का? कंपन्याकडून आणि शासकीय पातळीवरून बोगस बियाणाच्या संदर्भात दखल घेण्यात येईलही पण शेतकऱ्यांच्या भावनेशी बोगस बियाणे विकणाऱ्या कंपन्या खेळत आहेत त्याचे काय?
ज्या शेतकऱ्यांच्या शेतात बियाणे उगवले नाही त्या शेतीचे पंचनामे आणि त्याबद्दल आर्थिक मदत, या दोन्ही गोष्टी शासनाकडून तत्परतेने केल्या गेल्या पाहिजेत जेणेकरून शेतकरी नैराश्यामध्ये जाणार नाही.
बियाणे उगवले नाही याची दखल घेत औरंगाबाद खंडपीठाने स्वतःहून जनहित याचिका दाखल करून घेतली आहे. तसेच राज्य शासनाला औरंगाबाद खंडपीठाच्या अधिकार कक्षेत येणाऱ्या प्रत्येक तालुक्यातील बोगस बियाणांच्या प्रकरणी माहिती सादर करण्याचे निर्देश दिलेले आहेत. बियाणे कायद्याअंतर्गत बोगस बियाणे उत्पादित आणि विक्री करण्याविरोधात प्रत्येक तालुक्यात काय कारवाई करण्यात आली, किती बियाणे तपासणीसाठी लॅबकडे पाठविली, इत्यादी माहिती सादर करण्याचे आदेश खंडपीठाने दिले आहेत. सोबतच जिल्हा आणि तालुका कृषी अधिकारी तसेच बियाणे निरीक्षक अशा प्रकरणांत काय कारवाई करतात याचेही स्पष्टीकरण खंडपीठाने मागवले आहे.
न्यायालयात शेतकऱ्यांच्या बाजूने निर्णय येईल तेव्हा शेतकऱ्यांना थोडीफार नुकसान भरपाई मिळेल. मात्र बियाणे कंपन्यांनी जर न्यायालयात त्यांची बाजू भक्कमपणे मांडली आणि निकाल कंपन्यांच्या बाजूने गेला तर शेतकऱ्यांकडे काहीच उरणार नाही. हाताशी असणारा खरीप हंगामही जाणार हे निश्चित. नफा कमवण्यासाठी कंपन्यांनी विकलेल्या बोगस बियाणांची शिक्षा मात्र ती खरेदी करणाऱ्या शेतकऱ्यांना झाली आहे.
Mechanical orders of remand negate the constitutional guarantees of personal liberty.
Visaranai(Interrogation)’ is an acclaimed Tamil film – inspired from real incidents – which depicts the horrors of custodial torture.
In the movie, four innocent Tamil migrant workers are tortured for several days by Andhra Pradesh police to force them to confess to a robbery. It is only after several days of unrecorded custody that they were produced before the Magistrate. Before the Magistrate, one of the persons musters the courage to state that their confessions were forced through torture. This makes the Magistrate, who is shown as a pro-active officer, to put questions to the police about the arrest and custody. Finding the responses of police wholly unsatisfactory, the Magistrate refuses to remand the workers, after getting convinced that they were illegally arrested. It is a different thing that three of them were later entrapped by the Tamil Nadu police, exposing them to another Kafkaesque course of torture. The one who managed to find way to his house after release by the Magistrate – M Chandrakumar – subsequently wrote about his experiences in his novel “Lock Up”, which became the source for the movie.
This episode underlines the crucial role a Magistrate can play to protect personal liberty from arbitrary assaults by the police force. It is for this reason that the chapter on Fundamental Rights in the Constitution of India makes a specific mention of Magistrate. Article 22 of the Constitution lays down the concrete safeguards for personal liberty guaranteed under Article 21 by ensuring Magisterial supervision of police custody.
But incidents such as the horrific custodial deaths of father-son duo, Jeyaraj (62) & Bennix (32), in Sathankulam town near Thoothukudi in Tamil Nadu raise troubling questions about Magistrates performing their role as first line defenders of fundamental rights.
Mechanical remand a grave lapse
In the Sathankulam case, the FIR lodged against Jeyaraj and Bennis did not mention any grave offence. The offences alleged pertained to violation of lockdown guidelines, abuse and intimidation in public place etc, punishable under Sections 188, 269, 294(b), 353 and 506(2) IPC. None of the offences was punishable with imprisonment exceeding seven years.
It may be noted that there is no obligation cast on the police to arrest a person as soon as he is named as accused in an FIR. Rather, law mandates that arrest should be made only when it is absolutely necessary. This position has been clarified as per amendment brought to Code of Criminal Procedure in 2009, which substantively changed Section 41. As per the amended Section 41, arrest for offences which are punishable with imprisonment up to seven years can be made only in exceptional circumstances.
While passing remand orders in such cases, where the maximum punishment for the offence in the FIR is imprisonment up to seven years, the Magistrate has to be extra-cautious in ensuring that conditions under Section 41(b) are fulfilled. This has been explained by the Supreme Court in Arnesh Kumar v. State of Bihar AIR 2014 SC 2756.
As per the SC precedent, the Magistrate cannot mechanically order remand in such cases, and has to specifically record satisfaction about the the exceptional circumstances necessitating remand. It is surprising that the Magistrate in the instant case ordered their remand, overlooking the fact that the father-son duo had no criminal antecedents, and that the basic offence involved no moral turpitude as it pertained to the act of keeping the shop open beyond the deadline of 9 PM. The practice adopted by the Courts across the Country to avoid remand in minor offences in the wake of COVID-19 pandemic was also ignored by the Magistrate. It is pertinent to note that the Supreme Court, in its suo moto order passed on March 23, had suggested that undertrial prisoners for offences for which prescribed punishment is up to 7 years or less should be considered for release on bail.
The constitutional protection would become meaningless if the Magistrate acts mechanically without applying judicial mind to see whether the arrest of the person produced was in accordance with law. The power to remand during investigation is to be exercised ‘judicially’ with greatest care. While doing so, the Magistrate is not to act like a ‘post office’, mechanically forwarding the accused to the police custody by accepting the police version. This has been explained by the Supreme Court in Manubhai Ratilal Pater Tr.Ushaben vs. State of Gujarat (2013) 1 SCC 314 as
“The act of directing remand of an accused is fundamentally a judicial function. The Magistrate does not act in executive capacity while ordering the detention of an accused. While exercising this judicial act, it is obligatory on the part of the Magistrate to satisfy himself whether the materials placed before him justify such a remand or, to put it differently, whether there exist reasonable grounds to commit the accused to custody and extend his remand.
This requires the investigating agency to send the case diary along with the remand report so that the Magistrate can appreciate the factual scenario and apply his mind whether there is a warrant for police remand or justification for judicial remand or there is no need for any remand at all. It is obligatory on the part of the Magistrate to apply his mind and not to pass an order of remand automatically or in a mechanical manner “(emphasis supplied)“
Physical examination of accused necessary
There is another lapse in the case, which is far more serious. As per preliminary reports, Jeyaraj and Bennix were remanded despite both of them being severely injured.
In this regard, it is to be noted that Section 167(2), proviso (b) of the Code of Criminal Procedure insists on the physical production of the accused before the Magistrate at the first instance. The provision permits production via video conferencing only for subsequent extension of remands. This is to ensure that the accused is physically examined by the Magistrate at the first instance. This provision, if properly complied, acts as a safeguard against custodial violence.
Rule 6 of the Tamil Nadu Criminal Rules of Practice also mandates physical examination. The provision states :
No accused shall be placed under remand for the first time, unless he is produced physically. At the time of remand, the Judge/Magistrate shall see if there is any injury on the person of the accused. Any such injury shall be recorded in the remand order and the remand warrant as well. It is permissible to make extensions of remand through the medium of electronic video linkage.
Curiously, the FIR in the instant case also mentioned that the accused had “suffered internal injuries”. As per the FIR, these injuries were caused by the accused themselves by rolling on the ground when the police had asked them to disperse.
Did the Magistrate diligently and independently verify the police version regarding the nature and occurrence of injuries on the accused before remanding them?
According to Justice K Chandru, former judge of Madras High Court, the Magistrate failed to act as per this statutory mandate to ensure the safety of the accused.
Speaking to LiveLaw, Justice Chandru said:
“The Magistrate never looked at the accused. If he had seen them with bleeding injuries or uncomfortable standing posture, he should have asked police about them. But he writes in the remand order ‘no complaints’. When you don’t even see them, where is the question of complaint.
The accused will never openly tell the Magistrate that they were ill treated by the police. Because they are under distress. Therefore it is the job of the Magistrate to enquire after physically seeing the accused. The Magistrate has to assure the accused”
Justice Chandru also raised eyebrows over the Magistrate remanding them to far away Kovilpatti sub-jail, although there was a District Jail at Perurani, closer to Sattankulam.
“The police has a modus operandi. Take the accused to a pliable Magistrate. Get a remand order. Put them in a jail where they have some extra-constitutional tie up and then forget everything”.
Before remanding the accused, the Magistrate had to ensure that the FIR was properly registered following the 11-point guidelines in DK Basu case, and that the rights of the accused to have a lawyer and access to medical care were fulfilled, Justice Chandru added.
“If the police commit excesses, the person who can put an initial check is the Magistrate. In this case, the Sathankulam Magistrate has failed in his duty”.
This instance takes one back to a similar tragedy of custodial death of one Rajmuar in Kerala in 2019. In that case too, there were were complaints about Magisterial lapses. The Chief Judicial Magistrate, after enquiry, reported that the concerned Magistrate had committed several lapses while remanding the accused. As per the enquiry report of the CJM, though the accused had wounds in his body, the Magistrate did not notice them, as the accused was examined by the Magistrate in dim light inside the police vehicle. There was no explanation as to why the Magistrate chose to go near the police vehicle to see the accused, instead of insisting on the police producing him before her, the CJM said. The Magistrate also missed to notice the glaring fact that the accused was produced after the period of 24 hours, the CJM said.
The High Court of Kerala later dropped the proceedings against the Magistrate by stating that she could have been “little more diligent”.
Pitfalls of doing away with the physical production of accused citing COVID-19 pandemic
In the light of COVID-19 pandemic, many Courts have diluted the mandatory requirement of physical production of accused for the purposes of first remand.
The video conferencing rules adopted by Delhi High Court state that in exceptional circumstances, judicial remand in the first instance or police remand can be granted via video conferencing for reasons recorded in writing.
The Karnataka HC has also ruled that a Magistrate can authorize the remand of an accused for the first time via video conferencing in exceptional circumstances in the wake of COVID-19 pandemic, despite the bar under Section 167(2)(a) CrPC.
“Notwithstanding the clear provision of law under clause (b) of proviso to sub-section (2) of Section 167 of Cr.P.C that the order of first remand whether in respect of police custody or judicial custody and the subsequent extension of police custody remand can be made only by producing the accused in person before the learned Magistrate, some very exceptional cases where first remand is permitted through video conferencing will be covered by the directions issued by the Apex Court in clause (i) of paragraph 6 of the order dated 6th April, 2020. Therefore, the same shall be deemed to be lawful”, the HC said.
In the light of the Sathankulam incident, there should be a re-think on the dilution of the mandatory condition of physical production of accused for remand.The Magistracy has a solemn function to perform in the protection of personal liberties. They are the ‘first line of defence’ against assaults on citizens through arbitrary police actions. It was held by Allahabad High Court way back in 1959 that the Magistrate is not simply to ‘rubber stamp’ the prayer of the police officer seeking remand of the accused(Bir Bhadra Pratap Singh v D M Azamgarh AIR 1959 All 384). It may not be within the capabilities of everyone to approach higher constitutional courts against arbitrary and illegal arrests. Each moment of illegal detention adds indelible scars on the detenu’s mind. Therefore, it is important for the Magistrates to be conscious of their larger constitutional role to check state excesses against personal liberties.
ഉണങ്ങിയ വാഴയിലയുടെ തണ്ടില് 33 കിലോ ഭാരമുള്ള ഒരു കുട്ടിക്ക് തൂങ്ങി മരിക്കാന് കഴിയുമോ? കൊല്ലം ഏരൂരില് ദളിത് ബാലന്റെ മരണത്തില് ബന്ധുക്കളും നാട്ടുകാരും ദുരൂഹത ഉയര്ത്തുമ്പോള് പോലീസ് എത്തിച്ചേര്ന്നിരിക്കുന്നത് കുട്ടിയുടേത് തൂങ്ങി മരണം എന്ന കണ്ടെത്തലില് തന്നെ. പത്താം ക്ലാസ് വിദ്യാര്ഥിയായിരുന്ന വിജീഷ് മരിച്ചിട്ട് ഏഴ് മാസങ്ങള് കഴിയുന്നു. എന്നാല് വേണ്ട രീതിയില് അന്വേഷണം നടന്നിട്ടില്ലെന്നും ദുരൂഹ മരണം അന്വേഷിക്കുന്നതില് ഗുരുതര വീഴ്ച സംഭവിച്ചതായും പരാതി ഉയരുന്നു. 13 വയസ്സുള്ള വിജീഷ് ഉണങ്ങിയ വാഴയിലയുടെ തണ്ടില് തൂങ്ങി മരിച്ചു എന്ന എഫ് ഐ ആറില് രേഖപ്പെടുത്തിയിരിക്കുന്ന അതേ കാര്യം ആവര്ത്തിക്കുകയാണ് പോലീസ്. മറ്റൊന്നും ഇതേവരെ കണ്ടെത്താനായില്ലെന്ന് പോലീസ് പറയുമ്പോള് മരണത്തില് ദുരൂഹതയുണ്ടെന്ന് ബന്ധുക്കളും നാട്ടുകാരും ആരോപിക്കുന്നു. പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് പോലും തങ്ങള്ക്ക് നല്കാതെ പോലീസ് അലംഭാവം കാണിച്ചു എന്ന് മരിച്ച കുട്ടിയുടെ അച്ഛനും അമ്മയും പറയുന്നു.
കഴിഞ്ഞ വര്ഷം ഡിസംബര് 20 നാണ് വിജീഷിനെ വീടിന് സമീപത്തുള്ള വയലില് വാഴത്തോട്ടത്തില് തൂങ്ങി മരിച്ച നിലയില് കണ്ടെത്തുന്നത്. 19ന് വൈകിട്ട് തന്നെ കുട്ടിയെ കാണാതായിരുന്നു. തുടര്ന്ന് ബന്ധുക്കള് പോലീസില് പരാതി നല്കി. പോലീസും നാട്ടുകാരും കുട്ടിയുടെ ബന്ധുക്കളും ചേര്ന്ന് പ്രദേശം മുഴുവന് തിരഞ്ഞെങ്കിലും കുട്ടിയെ കണ്ടെത്താനായില്ല. രാവിലെ ആറരയോടെയാണ് വിജീഷിനെ വാഴയുടെ ഉണങ്ങിയ ഇലയില് തൂങ്ങി താഴെ മുട്ട് കുത്തി നില്ക്കുന്ന നിലയില് കണ്ടത്. ആത്മഹത്യയാണെന്നായിരുന്നു പോലീസിന്റെ പ്രാഥമിക കണ്ടെത്തല്. എന്നാല് വീട്ടുകാര് പരാതി നല്കിയതിനെ തുടര്ന്ന് ഏരൂര് പോലീസ് അന്വേഷണം ആരംഭിച്ചു. പോലീസ് എഫ്ഐആറില് പറയുന്നതിങ്ങനെ ‘ 14 വയസ്സുള്ള വിജീഷ് ബാബുവും കൂട്ടുകാരും ചേര്ന്ന് ബീഡി വലിക്കുന്നത് കണ്ട് പരിസര വാസികള് കുട്ടിയുടെ മാതാവിനെ അറിയിച്ചതിനെ തുടര്ന്ന് വഴക്ക് പറയും എന്ന് പേടിച്ച് 19-ാം തീയതി വൈകിട്ട് ആറ് മണിയോടെ ഇയാള് താമസിച്ചുവന്ന ചില്ലിങ് പ്ലാന്റ് വിഷ്ണുഭവന് വീട്ടില് നിന്നും ഓടിപ്പോയി. 20ന് ഏഴ് മണിക്ക് അകമുള്ള സമയം സോമന്റെ വക വാഴത്തോട്ടത്തില് ഒരു വാഴയുടെ ഉണങ്ങിയ കയ്യില് കെട്ടിത്തൂങ്ങി മരണപ്പെട്ട് നില്ക്കുന്നത് കാണപ്പെട്ടു’. എന്നാല് മകന് ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്തതല്ലെന്നും മരണത്തിന് പിന്നിലെ സത്യം അന്വേഷിക്കണമെന്നും ആവശ്യപ്പെട്ട് വിജീഷിന്റെ അച്ഛനും അമ്മയും പല തവണ പോലീസ് സ്റ്റേഷനിലെത്തി.
കൂലിപ്പണി ചെയ്ത് കുടുംബം പോറ്റുന്ന ടി ആര് ബാബു തന്റെ മകനും തനിക്കും നീതി ലഭ്യമാക്കണമെന്ന് അന്വേഷണ ഉദ്യോഗസ്ഥനോട് ആവശ്യപ്പെട്ടു. “എത്രയോ തവണ പോലീസ് സ്റ്റേഷന് കയറിയിറങ്ങി. ആദ്യം പറഞ്ഞതില് കൂടുതലൊന്നും അവര്ക്ക് പറയാനുണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല. അത് വാഴയില് തൂങ്ങി ചത്തത് തന്നെയാണ്, അതില് കൂടുതലൊന്നും ഇല്ല എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞ് ഓരോ തവണയും എന്നെ മടക്കി. ഒടുക്കം ഞങ്ങള് പരാതിയുമായി കൊട്ടാരക്കര റൂറല് എസ് പി യെ ചെന്ന് കണ്ടു.’ ബാബു പറഞ്ഞു. റൂറല് എസ് പി കേസ് ക്രൈംബ്രാഞ്ചിന് കൈമാറി. പിന്നീട് ക്രൈംബ്രാഞ്ച് അന്വേഷണവും നടന്നു. “രണ്ടാഴ്ച കഴിഞ്ഞ് ഞങ്ങള് വീണ്ടും റൂറല് എസ് പി യെ കാണാന് ചെന്നു. അന്വേഷിച്ചു. പ്രത്യേകിച്ച് കാരണമൊന്നുമില്ല. അത് തൂങ്ങി മരണം തന്നെയാണ് എന്നാണ് എസ് പി പറഞ്ഞത്. എന്ത് അന്വേഷണമാണ് അവര് നടത്തിയതെന്ന് അറിയില്ല.”
മരണത്തില് സംശയമായി ബന്ധുക്കളും നാട്ടുകാരും ചില കാരണങ്ങളും ഉന്നയിക്കുന്നു. 14 വയസ്സുള്ള 33 കിലോ ഭാരം ഉള്ള കുട്ടിക്ക് എങ്ങനെയാണ് ഉണങ്ങിയ വാഴയിലയുടെ തണ്ടില് തൂങ്ങി മരിക്കാന് കഴിയുക? അന്ന് കുട്ടിയേക്കാള് വലുപ്പം കുറവായിരുന്നു വാഴയ്ക്കെന്ന് പോലീസ് റിപ്പോര്ട്ടിലുണ്ട്. അങ്ങനെയുള്ളപ്പോള് തൂങ്ങി മരണം സാധ്യമാവുമോ? വിരലടയാളം പരിശോധിച്ചതല്ലാതെ ഫോറന്സിക് പരിശോധനകളോ ഡമ്മി പരിശോധനയോ ദുരൂഹത ആരോപിക്കപ്പെട്ടപ്പോള് പോലും നടന്നില്ല. അത് ചെയ്യാതെ ആത്മഹത്യയാണെന്ന തീര്പ്പിലേക്ക് പോലീസ് എത്തിയതെങ്ങനെയാണ്? പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ടില് കുട്ടിയുടെ മുഖത്ത് അടിയേറ്റ പാടും, നെറ്റിയില് മുഴയും ശരീരത്തിലാകെ 14 മുറിവുകളും ഉണ്ടെന്നും രേഖപ്പെടുത്തിയിട്ടുണ്ട്. ആത്മഹത്യ ആണെന്ന് ഉറപ്പിക്കുന്നുണ്ടെങ്കിലും ഈ മുറിവുകളും പാടുകളും എങ്ങനെ വന്നു എന്നത് സംബന്ധിച്ച് പോലീസ് അന്വേഷണം ഉണ്ടായിട്ടില്ല. മരിച്ച സമയം പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ടില് രേഖപ്പെടുത്തിയില്ല എന്നും ബന്ധുക്കള് പറയുന്നു. എന്നാല് തങ്ങള് അന്വേഷിച്ചിട്ടും ആത്മഹത്യ ആണെന്നതല്ലാതെ മറ്റൊരു തുമ്പും കിട്ടിയിട്ടില്ലെന്ന് ഏരൂര് പോലീസ് പറയുന്നു.
വിജീഷിന്റെ അമ്മ എം ബിന്ദു പറയുന്നു, “ബീഡി വലിച്ചതിന് ഞാന് അടിക്കുമോ എന്ന് പേടിച്ച് അവന് ഇത് ചെയ്തതാണെന്നാണ് പോലീസ് പറയുന്നത്. പക്ഷെ എനിക്കത് വിശ്വസിക്കാന് കഴിയില്ല. ഈ വീട്ടില് വിജീഷും ഞങ്ങളുടെ മൂത്ത മകനും എന്റെ ഭര്ത്താവും ഞാനും ഉള്പ്പെടെ നല്ല സുഹൃത്തുക്കളെപ്പോലെയാണ് കഴിഞ്ഞത്. ഒരു അടിയും വഴക്കും ഒന്നും ഇവിടെ ഉണ്ടാവാറില്ല. ക്രിസ്മസ് പരീക്ഷ കഴിഞ്ഞ ദിവസം ഞാന് തൊഴിലുറപ്പ് ജോലിക്ക് പോയിട്ട് വരുമ്പോള് അവനും അവന്റെ രണ്ട് കൂട്ടുകാരും മുറ്റത്ത് സൈക്കിള് നന്നാക്കിക്കൊണ്ടിരിക്കുകയാണ്. കുറച്ച് കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോള് വീടിന് അടുത്തുള്ള റബ്ബര് തോട്ടത്തില് കുട്ടികളെ പ്രദേശത്തുള്ളവരെല്ലാം വളഞ്ഞിട്ട് ചോദ്യം ചെയ്യുന്നത് കണ്ടു. ‘ആന്റീ ഇങ്ങോട്ട് വാ, വിജീഷ് ബീഡി വലിച്ചതിന് ആളുകള് ചോദ്യം ചെയ്യുന്നു’ എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞ് അടുത്തവീട്ടിലെ ഒരു പെണ്ണാണ് എന്നെ വന്ന് വിളിച്ചത്. ഞാന് അങ്ങോട്ട് കേറിച്ചെന്നപ്പോള് വിജീഷ് ഓടി വീട്ടിലേക്ക് പോയി. ഞാന് വീട്ടിലേക്ക് എത്തിയപ്പോള് പിന്നെ അവനെ കാണാനില്ല. ഞങ്ങളെല്ലാം എല്ലായിടത്തും തിരഞ്ഞു. പിന്നെ രാവിലെ അവന് വാഴച്ചോട്ടില് ഇരിക്കുന്നതാണ് കണ്ടത്. ക്രിസ്മസ് കരോളിന് പോവാന് ബാന്റും ചെണ്ടയും ഒക്കെ വാങ്ങിച്ച് വീട്ടില് വച്ചിരുന്ന അവന് എന്തായാലും ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്യും എന്ന് ഞാന് വശ്വസിക്കുന്നില്ല.”
എന്നാല് പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് പല തവണ ആവശ്യപ്പെട്ടിട്ടും പോലീസില് നിന്ന് ലഭിക്കാത്തതിലും ബന്ധുക്കള് ദുരൂഹത ആരോപിക്കുന്നു. വിജീഷിനെ മരിച്ച നിലയില് കണ്ടെത്തിയയിടത്ത് രാത്രിയില് പോലീസും നാട്ടുകാരും എല്ലാം തിരച്ചില് നടത്തിയിരുന്നതാണ്. എന്നാല് അപ്പോഴൊന്നും കാണാത്ത കുട്ടിയെ രാവിലെ വാഴയില് തൂങ്ങിയ നിലയില് കണ്ടത് സംശയകരമാണെന്ന് ബാബു പറയുന്നു. “രാത്രി 12 മണിക്കും ഒരു മണിക്കും എല്ലാം വയലിലും റബ്ബര് തോട്ടത്തിലും എല്ലാം വീണ്ടും വീണ്ടും മോന് വേണ്ടി നോക്കുന്നുണ്ട്. അപ്പോഴൊന്നും കാണാത്തയാള് എങ്ങനെയാണ് ആറ് മണി കഴിഞ്ഞപ്പോള് അവിടെ മരിച്ച് കിടക്കുന്നത്? ഇനി ബീഡി വലിച്ചത് ചോദ്യം ചെയ്തതിന് ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്തു എന്ന് പോലീസുകാര് പറയുന്നുണ്ട്. അങ്ങനെയാണെങ്കില് പിള്ളേരെ ചോദ്യം ചെയ്തവര് അതുപോലെ അവരെ വഴക്ക് പറയുകയോ, ഭീഷണിപ്പെടുത്തുകയോ ചെയ്തിട്ടുണ്ടാവണമല്ലോ? അത്തരത്തില് ഒരന്വേഷണവും നടന്നിട്ടില്ല. പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് പോലും കിട്ടാന് കാലങ്ങളോളം ഞങ്ങള് സ്റ്റേഷനില് കയറിയിറങ്ങി. അവസാനം ഒരു വക്കീലിനെ കണ്ട് പരാതി കൊടുത്തതിന് ശേഷം മാത്രമാണ് ഞങ്ങള്ക്ക് പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് കിട്ടിയത്. എനിക്കിനി എന്റെ കുഞ്ഞിനെ കിട്ടില്ല. പക്ഷെ അവന് എങ്ങനെ മരിച്ചു എന്നറിയാനുള്ള അവകാശം എനിക്കുണ്ട്. എനിക്ക് വിദ്യാഭ്യാസമില്ല. മക്കളെയെങ്കിലും പഠിപ്പിക്കണമെന്ന ആഗ്രഹത്തിലാണ് കട്ടയും മണ്ണും ചുമക്കാന് പോവുന്നത്. ഭാര്യ തൊഴിലുറപ്പിനും പോവും. പഠിക്കാന് കാശില്ലാത്തത് കൊണ്ട്, ഇളയ കുട്ടിയെ പഠിപ്പിക്കാനായി മൂത്ത മകനും ജോലിക്ക് പോവുകയാണ്. തൂങ്ങി മരിക്കണമെങ്കില് ഞങ്ങളെല്ലാം ജോലിക്ക് പോവുന്ന സമയത്ത് അവനത് ചെയ്യാം. കരോളിനുള്ള മിഠായിയും മറ്റും വാങ്ങിച്ച് ഇവിടെ വച്ചിരിക്കുന്നവന് പോയി വാഴയില് തൂങ്ങി മരിക്കും എന്ന് പറഞ്ഞാല് അത് വിശ്വസിക്കാന് പറ്റില്ല. അടിക്കും വഴക്ക് പറയും എന്ന് പേടിച്ച് ആത്മഹത്യ ചെയ്യാന് മക്കളെ വഴക്ക് പറയാതെയോ അടിക്കാതെയോ വളര്ത്തിയവരല്ല ഞങ്ങള്. പക്ഷെ ഞങ്ങള്ക്ക് ലക്ഷങ്ങള് മുടക്കി കേസിന് പോവാനൊന്നും ഇല്ല. പോലീസില് നിന്ന് നീതി കിട്ടിയാലേ ഉള്ളൂ.” ബാബു പറഞ്ഞ് നിര്ത്തി.
ഏരൂരിന് സമീപമുള്ള പത്തനാപുരത്ത് ഏതാനും വര്ഷങ്ങള്ക്ക് മുമ്പ് യുവതിയെ വീട്ടിലെ മുറിയില് തൂങ്ങി മരിച്ച നിലയില് കണ്ടെത്തിയിരുന്നു. പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ടിലും പോലീസ് അന്വേഷണത്തിലും ഇത് തൂങ്ങി മരണം എന്ന് ഉറപ്പിച്ചു. എന്നാല് പിന്നീട് 2018ല് പുനരന്വേഷണത്തില് ആ മരണം കൊലപാതകമെന്ന് തെളിഞ്ഞു. ഇതേ സംശയമാണ് പ്രദേശത്തുള്ളവര് ആരോപിക്കുന്നത്. പ്രദേശവാസിയായ ജെ അഭിഷേക് പറയുന്നു, “ആത്മഹത്യയാണെങ്കില് അത് ആണെന്നതിനുള്ള തെളിവെങ്കിലും പോലീസ് തരണം. ഇല്ലെങ്കില് അത് തെളിയിക്കുന്നതിന് എന്ത് പരിശോധനയാണ് നടത്തിയതെന്ന് പറയണം. അത്തരം തെളിവുകളൊന്നും ഇല്ലാതെ വാഴയിലയില് തൂങ്ങി മരിച്ചു എന്ന് പറയുന്നതില്, ആ കുട്ടി മരിച്ച് കിടക്കുന്നത് നേരില് കണ്ട നാട്ടുകാര്ക്ക് സംശയമുണ്ട്.” കുട്ടിയുടെ മരണത്തില് വിശദമായ അന്വേഷണം നടത്തണമെന്ന് ആവശ്യപ്പെട്ട് ഹൈക്കോടതിയെ സമീപിക്കാനൊരുങ്ങുകയാണ് അഭിഭാഷകനായ ഷാനവാസ്. സി ബി ഐ അന്വേഷണം വേണമെന്ന് ആവശ്യപ്പെടുമെന്ന് ഷാനവാസ് പറഞ്ഞു. പോലീസ് ആത്മഹത്യയാണെന്ന് കോടതിയില് ഇടക്കാല റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് സമര്പ്പിച്ച് അന്വേഷണം അവസാനിപ്പിച്ചിരിക്കുകയാണെന്നും അദ്ദേഹം പറഞ്ഞു. എന്നാല് പരാതിയുള്ളതിനാല് അന്വേഷണം പോലീസ് അവസാനിപ്പിച്ചിട്ടില്ലെന്ന് ഏരൂര് സി ഐ വ്യക്തമാക്കി. അതേ സമയം സംശയം തോന്നത്തക്ക തരത്തില് ഇതേവരെ ഒന്നും കണ്ടെത്താനായിട്ടില്ലെന്നും അദ്ദേഹം പറഞ്ഞു. എസ് സി എസ് ടി പിഎ സെക്ഷന് നാല് പ്രകാരം കേസന്വേഷണവുമായി ബന്ധപ്പെട്ട ദളിത് വിഭാഗത്തില് പെട്ടയാളുകള്ക്ക് ഉത്തരവാദിത്തപ്പെട്ടതോ അവകാശപ്പെട്ടതോ ആയ രേഖകള് കൈമാറാന് പോലീസ് ബാധ്യസ്ഥരാണ്. പോസ്റ്റ് മോര്ട്ടം റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് നല്കാന് കാലതാമസം വരുത്തിയതിനെയും ഇന്ക്വസ്റ്റ് റിപ്പോര്ട്ട് ആവശ്യപ്പെട്ടിട്ടും നല്കാത്തതിനെയും നിയമപരമായി ചോദ്യം ചെയ്യാനൊരുങ്ങുകയാണ് പ്രദേശവാസികളായ ചിലര്.
India has been moving quietly over the past few years to counter China’s ‘String Of Pearls’ strategy to encircle India and limit its role in the Indian Ocean Region (IOR).
The Mutual Logistics Support Agreement that India with Australia on 3 June is the latest in a series of such deals that New Delhi has been inking with friendly countries to foil China’s expansionist designs and hegemonic tactics in the IOR.
These agreements are force multipliers for the Indian Navy and allow the country’s naval ships to operate far beyond the country’s shores.
With these, the Indian Navy has become a formidable capable of maintaining open sea lanes, upholding freedom of navigation and the (UNCLOS).China has been often and justifiably accused by many countries of violating UNCLOS and not adhering to an international rules-based order.
On behalf of the Indian government, in late April, the public-sector company Broadcast Engineering Consultants India Limited floated a tender for procuring devices to fight the COVID-19 outbreak. The devices included COVID-19 patient-tracking wristbands, fever-scanning tools and hand-held thermal imaging systems. The expectations from these devices, as per a report in the Indian Express, bordered on the magical: “detect, prevent and investigate threats to national security using call data records, internet protocol detail record, tower and mobile phone forensics data”; “geofence an area of interest, such as meeting place, airport, mosque, railway station, bus stand”; “advanced analytics and intelligence software that uses telecom & internet data to identify suspect locations, associations & behaviour”; monitor “everyday behaviour of the person, including where s/he orders food from and the places s/he regularly visits, the multiple routes s/he could take”; “should be able to easily identify close contacts, frequent contacts as well as occasional contacts such as Uber drivers etc, and be able to collect information like where the suspect has spent most of his/her time and who all he or she has met.” To say that the company’s aims with these devices would infringe on the privacy of those being subjected to such surveillance would be an understatement.
The tender came at a time when the government was already facing criticism over the Aarogya Setu app, sponsored and heavily promoted by the central government. The app determines whether users are at the risk of a COVID-19 infection, through accessing the locations they have visited, whether they had “contact” with someone who carried the infection, and self-assessment of symptoms. Initially, the government made use of the app mandatory for all public and private employees, and for those living in containment zones. It also proposed that all new smartphones come with this app pre-installed. Since then, there have been cases of housing societies insisting that in order to access the common area of the housing complex, residents will have to install the app. The Central Industrial Security Force has proposed making the app mandatory for allowing access to public places such as the Delhi metro. The states of Karnataka and Haryana have declared that those entering their territories should have the app installed. In Noida, a government order said that criminal penalties will apply if the app is not used during lockdowns. Downloading the app might even be made mandatory for air and train travel. However, in the guidelines for the lockdown from 17 to 31 May, the ministry of home affairs somewhat diluted its stand. Instead of making the app mandatory for all employees, it said that “employers on best effort basis should ensure that Aarogya Setu is installed by all employees having compatible mobile phones.”
Despite this minor relaxation, it will not be surprising to see this app go the Aadhaar way, in that it will effectively become “compulsory” for everyone, giving rise to issues of exclusion and denial of a service if the app is not installed, and misidentification, where an uninfected person might be shown as high risk. The mandatory use of this app has been challenged in Kerala High Court because it “takes away the right of a person to decide and control the use of information pertaining to him” and thus violates the 2017 Supreme Court judgment in Justice KS Puttaswamy (Retd) vs Union of India. The eminent jurist Justice BN Srikrishna, who led the committee that drafted India’s data protection Bill, has called making the use of the Aarogya Setu mandatory app illegal.
While it may seem odd to worry about data extraction, surveillance and privacy-related issues in these anxious times, but this is precisely the time when the public’s guard is low and it can be easily convinced to part with personal data for the greater good. Under normal circumstances, a citizen would be outraged if the local police or the municipality asked them to make their mobile phone location available to them at all times. However, now, under attack from a virus that is so contagious, the demand seems justifiable. Across the world, corporate and state agencies have found this to be the most opportune time to design intrusive systems for combating the public-health emergency. But in doing so, they often wilfully violate the spirit, if not the letter, of fundamental liberties guaranteed in a democracy.
The citizens have a right to know what data is being taken from them by an expanded surveillance system, during the pandemic, and what should be claimed back after it ends. They must demand to know who is responsible for handling and securing their data, and what precise uses it will be put to. The expectation that this data should never be shared with any entity—private or public—is a reasonable one. Several apps designed to fight COVID-19 also want access to your contacts, images, videos and other data, which is totally irrelevant to the aim of the app. If the government makes these apps mandatory, the “consent” a person is asked for when they start the app for the first time, is immaterial. You have no option but to agree to all the terms and conditions. Additionally, the privacy policies of these apps often contain open-ended clauses such as “will be used for appropriate purposes” or “will be shared by relevant agencies.” In India, poor data-security also poses a danger of it being leaked. In the long run, letting the state get away with this form of infringement on our privacy could possibly bring to fruition a dystopian surveillance nightmare.
Globally, in the name of the pandemic, all kinds of systems using cameras, drones and mobile phones are being created to track people who are infected as well as suspected asymptomatic virus carriers. The simplest and the most militaristic approach has been taken by Israel. It is using its internal intelligence agency, Shin Bet, to track infections through location data of users. The new regulations permit collection of this data without a court order, and parliamentary formalities were bypassed in promulgating these rules. Shin Bet is directly accessing this data from mobile telephone operators, and thus requires no apps and therefore no consent of the users. An Israeli high court has criticised the agency’s actions, noting that it “severely violates the constitutional right to privacy,” and that the government would need to pass new legislation to authorise Shin Bet to continue with this operation. It also stated that, “The choice to make use of the state’s preventative security agency to follow those who do not seek to do [the state] harm, without the subjects of the surveillance giving their permission, raises an extremely serious difficulty and a suitable alternative should be sought that fulfils the principles of privacy protection.” The court was alert enough to order extra protection for journalists—who will not be tracked by Shin Bet post testing—so that journalistic sources could be protected.
A few countries have asked their telecom providers to share location data of people with the government, though without specifying under what laws such data is being shared. This is also true of the European Union though most of the data that is being shared with governments is anonymised and aggregated. Most countries, states and cities have launched mobile phone apps, resembling Aarogya Setu, to do this tracking.
The most extensive tracking has been implemented by South Korea. It uses a combination of security-camera footage, GPS data from cell phones and vehicles, as well as credit-card transactions, to trace a person’s movements. A lot of this data—including gender, age, district of residence and credit-card history, plus minute-to-minute movements with time stamps—is being publicly released to show a detailed path of confirmed virus carriers so that people can check if they ever crossed paths with them. Even though the public data is anonymised by stripping off personal identifiers, it is not too difficult to infer names and addresses. As a result, people are being harassed online, with social media full of comments on people’s activities—time spent in motels, attending religious meets, having affairs—and, of course, being vilified for getting the infection.
China’s tracking has been ruthless and it has deployed its mass surveillance systems already in place—CCTVs, drones, biometric readers—in addition to mobile phone apps. China is aggressively installing more cameras, sometimes even inside people’s homes. A color coding scheme has been instituted that generates a “health code”—green, yellow or red—on a person’s cell phone. A green code means no infection and the person is free to enter the metro or shopping malls or restaurants (this works like an e-pass); yellow code indicates that the person needs to be quarantined, perhaps at home; and a red one mandates that a person is likely to be infected and so must be isolated immediately. The project is sponsored by the government and administered through Ant Financial owned by the Alibaba group. “Neither the company nor Chinese officials have explained in detail how the system classifies people,” the New York Times reported in March. “That has caused fear and bewilderment among those who are ordered to isolate themselves and have no idea why.” The health code status is also shared with the local police. Apparently, the health code is generated by using AI algorithms on “big data” that is collected by “workers in train stations and outside residential buildings [who] record people’s names, national ID numbers, contact information and details about recent travel.”
China is now equipping its public-transport systems with thermal imaging cameras which will, in addition to a facial scan, also record body temperature. The face scan can be used to immediately identify the person using the country’s vast collection of facial records. The possibility of India replicating a similar system that connects to the Aadhaar database has been mentioned. Of course, at the moment, such a link up with the Aadhaar database is not permissible in law.
Besides Aarogya Setu, many apps have been made available in various cities and states across India. The local authorities too are using these technologies in a questionable manner. In Karnataka, for instance, those quarantined at home must post selfies to the app Quarantine Watch every hour from 7 am to 10 pm. Most such apps require people to upload symptoms, give feedback relating to testing, and give access to their location. Tamil Nadu’s CoBuddy app even uses facial recognition. All of these have poorly drafted privacy policies, ask for excessive permissions and often work erratically, causing hardship to uninfected people. The evidence of callous attitudes towards the privacy of citizens by public authorities keeps mounting. In one case, the Karnataka government published names and addresses of more than 19,000 residents of Bangalore ostensibly because they were not following quarantine rules properly. Such personal details being made public pose a threat to people’s lives in an environment where even the suspicion of being infected immediately invites social stigma or even physical violence. The problem of stigma and consequent discrimination seems to be fairly widespread. Thus, personal data acquired by intrusive apps, which can be released into the public sphere, makes the situation much worse.
These examples indicate that the installed apps, can perform two primary “surveilling” functions, and Aarogya Setu includes both. First, a person’s location can be recorded at any given time. This is useful for keeping tabs on people to check if they are crossing a “geofenced” area such as a quarantine zone. Second, it can keep a record of all the people a user has been in close proximity of—what is being called contact tracing. Bluetooth technology, inside mobile phones, is being used to do this rather than GPS.
If this collected data flows the way it is intended, and processed only for the purpose that it was collected for, it would be somewhat reassuring. But that is not the way it is in practice. Servers can be hacked and data breaches can occur because of many reasons: insufficient security layers, weak encryption, simple passwords, bad design of the app or the storage architecture. Or sheer carelessness. Data can get stolen or exposed while in transit from devices to servers and vice-versa. An app sponsored by the state of Karnataka apparently revealed addresses of patients. In Madhya Pradesh, a COVID-19 dashboard displayed personal details of quarantined persons.
This data often makes its way into the marketplace from where anyone can access it: data brokers, marketeers, criminals, sundry organisations, insurance and finance companies, and so on. Location data can be de-anonymised with little effort, resulting in identification, and information about lifestyle, associates and activities.
Across the world, corporate and state agencies find this to be the most opportune time to design intrusive systems for combating the emergency. But in doing so, they often wilfully violate the spirit, if not the letter, of fundamental liberties guaranteed in a democracy.
But above all, what permits such data collection morphing into surveillance systems is the lack of legislative backing with constitutional safeguards such as a sunset clause—mandating that everything related to the app will be deleted at the end of a specific period. The European Union has issued guidelines on how to process personal data that is being acquired during the pandemic. The American Civil Liberties Union too has published a set of principles that apps, and their makers, should follow in order to be respectful of individual freedoms, including privacy.
In India, an executive order specifying the protocol for how the response data obtained through the Aarogya Setu app is to be handled spells out which state agencies will have access to the “de-identified” data but the list is long and the wording so generic that it can include almost any agency which can do pretty much whatever it wants with the data. This defeats the purpose of why the protocol was issued in the first place—the list of entities that can access the data and its precise use should have been specified sharply. The order also permits sharing of data with research institutions “registered in India” on approval of an expert committee. The data can live up to 180 days with the entities it is shared with. The penalties of improper use are left vague: “under applicable laws for the time being in force.” The order can be reviewed in six months.
In 2018, a demand was made by the National Crime Records Bureau that the agency be given access to Aadhaar data. The Unique Identification Authority of India turned down the proposal because the Aadhaar Act does not permit such access and this purpose was not consented to by people “giving” their personal information and biometrics to the Aadhaar system. Therefore, legislative oversight does add a layer of accountability to executive schemes, and should have been provided for in our “national app.”
We should be mindful of what we are being asked to do. We should appraise apps for their privacy-intrusion potential and specifically examine questions relating to the limited scope and purpose of data collection; security of data; scope of liability offered by app owners; and clear consent, as well as opt-in and opt-out features.
There is an important debate over two frameworks being used for the location and encryption of collected data: the Decentralised Privacy-Preserving Proximity Tracing, or DP-3T, versus the Pan-European Privacy-Preserving Proximity Tracing, or PEPP-PT. The former is considered far more privacy-preserving because server interaction, processing and storage is minimised and thus is more decentralised. Germany has ditched a centralised approach. In the United Kingdom, experts have advised the government against its plans to use centralised contact-tracing apps. The just released Google-Apple collaborative framework, upon which contact-tracing apps can be built into Apple and Android phones, is DP3T compliant. These companies have promised that they will remove this feature when the pandemic is over. Apps released by public authorities and governments should release the source code for public scrutiny and for building trust.
Contrary to this spirit, what is worrying is the collaboration between government agencies and notorious private technology companies known for designing intrusive technologies. The American technology company Clearview AI is in negotiations with US state agencies to provide facial-recognition services to track Covid-19 patients. The technology of the NSO group from Israel, which created the well-known spying tool, Pegasus, is being tested by many countries around the world as a potential candidate for tracking the movements of people using mobile-phone’s location data. For these companies, this viral pandemic is a godsent opportunity to launder their reputations and advance their questionable products and practices.
Ideally, every policy, law and rule brought in for the emergency that the pandemic has created should be reviewed when it ends. The extracted data should be deleted. The retention of health, location and facial data on private and state servers will always make it a potential target for hackers. Corporate entities will seek access to it in order to make profits, and for state agencies it will be tempting to use it for surveillance. In contemporary India, surrendering privacy could expose people to mob violence for their political views.At this moment, we need to vigorously campaign for data-protection laws. The European Union set the ball rolling in May 2018 enforcing data-protection regulations. The Indian data-protection law is still under debate because it allows state agencies to have a free run of citizens’ data. In the fight against the pandemic, we must not create systems of surveillance that would be difficult for people in power to give up once the pandemic ends.
Anil Kumar and Manjit Singh, both skilled workers from Bihar’s Bhojpur and Buxar districts respectively, began their new jobs at the same workplace on 17 March. They were working at a bottling plant which was located at the Karsua village in Uttar Pradesh’s Aligarh district. Anil, aged 28, said that they were hired on a contract basis for around Rs 18,000 per month. They were sharing a room with another colleague, Prem Kumar. Anil aimed to spend as little as he could in Aligarh and send most of his remaining salary back home, where twelve of his family members depended on his income. But his plan did not materialise. “This lockdown ruined everything,” he said.
Since 25 March, India has been under a nationwide lockdown to contain COVID-19, which left several migrant workers in the lurch. Tens of thousands of migrants made their way back home, and at least twenty two of them died in this effort. Anil, Prem and Singh were among the workers who were compelled to return to their homes.
The roommates were working till the third day of the lockdown, they told me, and required more financial support from their workplace. They realised that they would not be able to make ends meet in Aligarh and embarked on an arduous journey back home on bicycles. Anil and Singh travelled around nine hundred kilometres to their homes in Bihar. Prem, a resident of Bhopalpur village in Uttar Pradesh’s Basti district, pedalled over six hundred kilometres to his native village. They reached their homes safely, only to find that they had few options left to earn a living. Still, the three of them were content with being home. “If we live at home, we will be able to survive with just salt and roti too,” Anil said.
The three roommates told me that they were short on money when the lockdown was announced. They said they worked at a bottling plant of the Indian Oil Corporation, run by a company called Kosan SFPL Project India Limited. A contractor, Nagrajan NV, from NRV Trading and Contracting, had hired them to work there. While Anil and Singh were hired just a week before the announcement of the lockdown, Prem said he had been working at the plant for five or six months. According to Prem, Nagrajan was supposed to pay his salary, of Rs 24,000, on the twelfth day of each month, but the payment was almost always late. In fact, he did not get Rs 14,000 of his salary for February and the entire payment for March. In addition, the three roommates had visited their families for Holi, on 10 March, and spent a large proportion of their savings during the trip. “We had come here after Holi, thinking that we will earn and send money back home, payback debts, but that couldn’t happen,” Anil said.
After the commencement of the lockdown, they asked the local grocer if they could buy food items from him on credit, but he refused. Moreover, their landlord insisted that they should not go for work, lest they contracted the virus. The three of them, however, wanted to go to work, in hopes of getting their full salaries, Prem and Anil said. They tried to call Nagrajan for help, but did not get a response.
Finally, on 27 March, the roommates sought the police’s intervention. Prem told me what transpired. Six policemen arrived at their workplace and spoke to an employee called Neeraj—he was a Kosan employee, Nagrajan later told me. The policemen directed the employers to provide the workers with food rations and pay Rs 2,000 to each of them for some immediate relief. Further, the police instructed them to clear all pending salaries within 15 days, Prem said. They asked Prem and Anil for a written submission regarding the settlement. However, Prem told me that once the police left, Neeraj backtracked and said that the company could not transfer money till the lockdown was lifted.
On 9 May, I spoke to Nagrajan. He claimed that he had paid Rs 2,500 to both Anil and Singh earlier for some expenses, and sent them the salary that was due to them on 8 May. Nagrajan admitted that Prem’s salary was still pending, but told me that his hands were tied. He said he would try to pay the remaining amount by the end of June.
Since the lockdown had brought all transportation facilities around them to a halt, the three workers asked their families to arrange some money for them. On 27 March, they paid their bills and bought three cycles.
At about 5 am on 28 March, they began their journey. Prem had to go to Basti district in Uttar Pradesh itself, while the others had to go to Bihar—Singh’s home was in Buxar district’s Dumraon village and Anil’s home was around seventy kilometres away from there, in Bhojpur district’s Mahudahi village. As they were worried about their safety, Prem said, they decided to make their way via a route which would allow the three of them to be together as far as possible.
They pedalled throughout the first day—taking the briefest possible breaks—to cover almost one hundred and fifty kilometres. When they reached Mainpuri, at around 10 pm, a few locals helped them out. The locals offered them food, and allowed them to sleep on the rooftop of one of their homes.
The following morning, at about 4 am, they resumed their journey. They went to Kannauj, and then rode along the Lucknow Expressway. En route, they came across locals who were offering refreshments to those who had to rush to their native places due to the lockdown. The police personnel they met on the way were also empathetic, Prem said.
Around midnight, they reached the Lucknow Toll Plaza, where they saw 400–500 people boarding buses, Prem said. They mulled over boarding one of these buses to reach home sooner. But they dropped the idea as travelling for long hours in a bus would increase the chances of contracting the virus. Three of them then went along a road with several shuttered shops. They slept on a footpath in front of one such shop.
They resumed their journey around 6.30 am on 30 March, Prem said. Around twelve hours later, they reached Ayodhya. Their paths diverged from there—Singh and Anil went towards Bihar, while Prem made his way to Bhopalpur. Prem spent the night at a temple in Ayodhya and finally reached home around 4 pm the next day.
Meanwhile, Anil and Singh had a long way to go. On the night of 30 March, after crossing Ayodhya, Anil and Singh got some help from the police. The police stopped a truck on the road which was on its way to Bihar and asked them to board it with their cycles. “We covered about hundred kilometres like that,” Anil said. They reached Singh’s home in Dumraon on the night of 1 April. Anil stayed there that night and went to his village, situated around seventy kilometres away, the next day.
Throughout their journey, Anil said, they were worried that police “would catch us and beat us,” but had the opposite experience. From Aligarh till Ballia—a district which lies on the easternmost part of state, bordering Bihar—the police as well as some administration authorities had stopped them and checked their temperature about ten times. At one of the checking points, the police also impressed a stamp on their wrists which said something on the lines of “surakshit yatra”—safe trip—Anil told me. They were allowed to travel peacefully. “The police helped us a lot,” he said.
On the other hand, after they entered Bihar, no authority stopped Anil and Singh to check their temperature or even ask where they were going. Even though they had come from a different state, the administration did not send them to a quarantine facility. Meanwhile, Bhopalpur’s administration had made Prem stay in a government school, which had been repurposed as a quarantine facility, for 14 days. Prem said when he was allowed to leave the quarantine centre, the authorities had given him food ration of about fifteen to twenty kilograms with a bottle of mustard oil.
When I spoke to Prem, Anil and Singh in May, they described the difficulties of making ends meet in their villages. Singh was relatively financially stable as he lived in a joint family which had other earning members. He still has to fend for his wife, two daughters and one son. He was waiting for the lockdown to end to search for a job. “Going to Aligarh was a waste. We could not even work properly and we ended up spending money also,” he said. “It would have been better to not have gone at all.”
As one of Prem’s relatives was supposed to get married in June, his family had borrowed some money. Now, they are under debt with minimal income. “We have a small part of land in which my brother farms,” he said. “But that is not enough. This is why I left the village in the first place.” Although he was happy to be reunited with his family, he said, he was worried. “I was the only one who could go outside and earn. Being able to work outside was a support for my family.”
Anil’s family is also reeling under a major financial crunch. Most people in Anil’s family are potters and do not have a steady income. Till now, they had relied on his earnings—he had worked earlier in other cities as well—to sustain themselves. He told me he tries to work as a potter and find work as an agricultural labourer every day. “I am fully dependent on daily wages and my traditional pottery work,” he said. “Both jobs are always uncertain.”
“There is no awareness about coronavirus in village and no one is following social distancing et cetera,” he said. In fact, he said he saw no specific measures to contain the virus in the village. “Our village Mahudahi is small and still lacking in basic facilities,” Anil said. “Even for primary healthcare services, we have to travel for three–four kilometres. If we need to go to a hospital, we have to go to the nearest town, Ara, which is about fifteen kilometres away from our village. So, this is a big problem for us.” Prem had also mentioned that apart from quarantining people who came from outside, he saw no action being taken to prevent the spread of the virus in his village. There was no hospital or any primary healthcare centre nearby, he added.
Anil’s family of thirteen shares one ration card. “Sometimes, we just get rice and wheat once in two months or more,” he said. “We get a total 30 kilograms ration, which is not sufficient for our survival.” Still, Anil said he was happy to be with his family. “We will do our pottery work or work as labourers to not die of hunger,” he said. “Had we stayed in Aligarh, we would have died of hunger.”
As plans go, it was a great one. On 21 May, roughly two months after India imposed one of the strictest Covid-19 lockdowns the world has seen, a disruptive new fintech platform was to be unveiled. One that would run like electricity through the country’s financial system. “Sahay” (in Hindi, “help”), an ambitious online lending marketplace, would be targeted at the hundreds of thousands of Indian micro, small, and medium enterprises (MSMEs). Businesses that had probably been closed and financially decimated during the lockdown.
Sahay would allow them to access a loan from banks in as few as five minutes. To do that, it would invert the established order and power equations between MSMEs and banks.
Banks generally baulk at lending to MSMEs because they’re too risky and the loan tickets are too small to be worth spending time on. So, instead of banks deciding which MSMEs they’d lend to, Sahay would let MSMEs decide which banks they’d borrow from. From a lender’s market, Sahay would turn it into a borrower’s one.
But inverting entire industries overnight isn’t easy. This is why, before Sahay could roll out, a complex web of events, systems, and companies had to fall into place. That included banks, borrowers, a data-driven GST system, and a host of regulators from India’s central bank—the Reserve Bank of India (RBI)—to sundry industry regulators.
It would also require the creation of a brand-new class of RBI-licensed entities called Account Aggregators (AA). These data intermediaries would act as consent brokers, helping expose a business’ operational data in real-time to lenders.
If all of these pieces fell into place, out would emerge the concept of flow-based lending, where a borrower’s data would become the collateral for its loans.
Sahay could do for the adoption of fintech lending what payments app Bhim did for the adoption of digital payments in 2016.
After India demonetised over 85% of its currency notes in December 2016, it announced the birth of Unified Payments Interface (UPI), a new, free digital payments protocol. To popularise UPI, Prime Minister Narendra Modi (then in his first term) launched a free app built on top of it, called Bhim. Modi’s star power, combined with the desperate economic vacuum of demonetisation, helped UPI go mainstream, eventually clocking over a billion transactions in a month.
Sahay was meant to be Bhim’s sequel, but for lending.
Bhim-UPI filled the cash-starved void created by demonetisation. Sahay would do the same to fill the credit void for MSMEs struck by the economic slowdown since August 2019, exacerbated by the Covid-induced lockdown.
But all of a sudden, on 5 May, Sahay was put on a “hiatus”, announced by a Bengaluru-based think tank called iSpirt.
“We realise small businesses need something much more urgently than cash flow-based solutions from the market. They need rescue and stimulus packages from the government to survive the health and economic distress brought on by Covid-19. When the lending cycle picks up again in the market, we will revive our efforts to bring cash flow-based lending products to the market,” said the post.
As think tanks go, iSpirt is a class apart. Operating largely behind the scenes, it was the powerful architect behind two of India’s mass-scale tech interventions. The national biometric ID program Aadhaar (which now covers 1.2 billion people) and UPI (used by nearly 100 million people).
Sahay would’ve thus been a three-peat for iSpirt. One made possible by a very similar set of actors and strategies as earlier. Fintech infrastructure company JUSPAY, Nandan Nilekani (the architect of Aadhaar and a payments maven), an unregulated industry body Sahamati, banks, startups with early access, and of course, iSpirt.
Though postponed for a few quarters, flow-based lending too risks being overshadowed by the same iSpirt controversies and conflicts that afflicted UPI. Ownership and power without accountability. Conflicts of interest and rules that are created on the fly.
Having tasted success with UPI, iSpirt increasingly views Covid-19 as an opportunity for a wholesale reset. This is evidenced by its ambitions of influencing policy, regulation, and delivery of services in sector after sector.
A 134-page presentation it made to its volunteers offers a small glimpse—credit, stimulus packages, telemedicine, contact tracing, affordable diagnostics, health records, etc.
“iSpirt’s involvement is much-needed as someone who brings the ecosystem together,” said an executive of a company that is part of the flow-based lending ecosystem. He did not want more details of his designation revealed as he did not want to speak against iSpirt publicly.
“But they are involved in policymaking and people associated with iSpirt are also likely market participants. So you end up becoming a rule-maker, jury, and judge. This is not healthy for a market economy,” he added.
Follow the UPI trail to know what that can look like.
When it came to flow-based lending, iSpirt largely stuck to the playbook it created and perfected with UPI. After all, it must have felt, it had created and popularised a brand new digital payments system that consumers weren’t even asking for. Why couldn’t it do the same with business lending, something MSMEs were screaming for?
That playbook started with informal sessions that brought together market participants. iSpirt’s early hackathon sessions to create UPI led to the birth of PhonePe, the first private app to offer UPI-based payments. PhonePe went from a startup to a multi-billion-dollar payments app in under three years. It is now owned by Flipkart, which in turn is owned by Walmart. Yes Bank, a second-tier bank few people paid much attention to, became the preferred UPI-partner bank overnight; it ended up powering 40% of UPI transactions. Yes Bank would eventually be run to the ground by its founders; it is now run…
PhonePe and Yes Bank benefitted from UPI because both of them got early access to the software plumbing ( SDKs and APIs) that girded UPI. Though the phrase didn’t exist back then, they were what iSpirt now calls early adopter “Wave 1” partners.
“We dive deeper with this Wave 1 cohort and iterate together to build on the ‘private innovation’ side of the original vision with their feedback,” said iSpirt spokesperson Siddharth Shetty, in an emailed response to The Ken. “This is developed with the mutual commitment to sharing our work in the public domain, for public use, once we have matured the idea. We work with them and iterate till we surface a Minimum Viable Product for wider review. After Wave 1 partners co-create an MVP, we open up for wider public review and participation. We make public all of our learnings to help the creation of Wave 2 of market participants.”
Cut to 2020 and it’s Wave 1 all over again.
On 13 March, a motley group of companies met in Bengaluru. It was a session called “Opportunities for Loan Service Providers” and was hosted by Sharad Sharma, the co-founder of iSpirt. Employees of companies like e-commerce major Flipkart, fintech infrastructure company Setu, credit bureaus like Experian, and loan origination startups were present, according to a founder of a company who attended the session.
“Those present were the first wave of companies getting together to make products around flow-based lending,” said the founder.
Among banks, the one most interested in flow-based lending was IDFC First Bank. “Yes Bank made a lot of gains by being a first-mover. IDFC did not want to lose out on such gains,” said a senior bank executive involved in these discussions.
The new Wave 1 also included new actors. There’s Sahamati, a collective of account aggregators, promoted by Nandan Nilekani. Its centrality to flow-based lending is similar to that of the National Payments Corporation of India (NPCI), the banking industry body that was entrusted with running UPI. Incidentally, Nilekani has been an advisor to NPCI since 2015.
Older actors make a reappearance too. iSpirt, which designed the APIs and SDKs for Bhim, also did it for Sahay. It then contracted the same company, JUSPAY, to build Sahay as it had contracted to build Bhim.
“JUSPAY is an active market participant in this ecosystem,” said iSpirt’s Shetty. “They volunteered to build an open-source implementation so that many marketplaces can come up quickly. We saw no conflict, in fact we appreciate this gesture on their part to open-source.”
Shetty also added that the decision to award the contract to build UPI app Bhim to JUSPAY was taken by NPCI, not iSpirt. “JUSPAY is a supremely talented engineering company with a strong ‘build for India’ bias. They have been market players who embrace some of our big ideas and have demonstrated a willingness to pay-it-forward,” he said.
In his responses, Shetty also referred The Ken multiple times to a set of rules called playgrounds-coda. There’s just one thing—the rules were published on 7 May 2020. The same day he emailed us iSpirt’s responses.
When the actors are largely the same, so too are the conflicts.
When UPI was being built and rolled out, early access to the new technology didn’t mean universal early access to all. It is an open secret in India’s fintech sector that early bank adopter (or “Wave 1 partner”) Yes Bank’s UPI SDKs were superior to others. Because of that, so was the quality of the product built atop it by its early—and for a long time, only—partner, PhonePe.
This is why few other competing UPI apps never tasted the same success as PhonePe, including Sequoia-backed payment company Citrus Pay (now Naspers-backed PayU), whose UPI ambitions never took off even though it had better access to capital than PhonePe did then. (PhonePe had earlier denied getting preferential treatment.)
With cash-flow based lending too, the early “Wave 1” participants with iSpirt stand a chance to become the Yes Bank and PhonePe of lending.
Who might these be?
The five financial institutions that were to have been part of the first release of the Sahay platform, said a source, were IDFC First Bank, State Bank of India, Axis Bank, Bajaj Finserv, ICICI Bank. Four out of these five also feature as iSpirt’s “financial inclusion donors”. The Ken reached out to Axis Bank, IDFC Bank, and Bajaj Finserv for comments. Bajaj said it was in its silent period and couldn’t comment. The other two banks did not respond to the emails.
When asked about this, iSpirt’s Shetty said he categorically denied a “pay-for-play” model and that his organisation “engaged with many more market partners who are NOT donors than donors who are market players. Their donor relationship and ‘market partner’ relationship with us are independent.”
Even iSpirt’s designing of the apps and SDKs for the concepts it wants to popularise are not free of concerns. An official of a company that is part of the flow-based lending ecosystem was concerned about the lack of broad consultation or inputs when it came to designing the API. He also had questions. Who is iSpirt accountable to? And who certifies India Stack independently? Also, once iSpirt hands over the tech platform to the operating units, who guarantees end-use limitation of data. Who is accountable for breaches? Who answers to the Data Protection Authority when it eventually comes up?
iSpirt’s response was once again about “Wave 1” and “Wave 2” partners. “I can understand the confusion if your sources are not from Wave 1,” said Shetty. “They are open to participate in Wave 2. Before you allege that our process is not collaborative, please clarify with your source if they are confused about Wave 1/Wave 2.”
Set up in 2013, iSpirt, which stands for Indian Software Products Industry Round Table, was an alternative to Indian IT lobby group Nasscom. iSpirt operates through an army of 150 volunteers.
Its volunteers play an active role in setting tech policy, bringing the various companies and institutions together and helping them make the right connections. They are serial entrepreneurs, founders of young startups. They are involved in making policy, making connections, writing code, and building solutions over a swathe of issues that would make the government take notice.
This invisible layer of volunteers operates at different levels based on their involvement and commitment to iSpirt.
One of iSpirt’s senior volunteers is Sanjay Jain, who is also the founder of the Bharat Innovation Fund, a $100 million venture capital fund with capital from Indian banks, insurers, and corporates.
Jain’s two hats place him in a vantage position. iSpirt volunteer Jain’s knowledge of flow-based lending and the account aggregator framework would be tremendously useful to venture capitalist Jain in deciding which early horses to back.
One such horse is Setu. Founded by a duo of former iSpirt volunteers, Sahil Kini and Nikhil Kumar, the fintech infrastructure company in April 2020 raised $15 million in venture capital, including from venture capitalist Jain’s fund.
Coincidentally, Setu is also in the running to become an account aggregator. It has applied for a license with the RBI.
“Please refer to our model and feel free to report on when we have departed from our stated model,” said iSpirt’s Shetty. “Please avoid sensationalising our regular course of work, by cherry-picking two volunteers and attempting only a tenuous link.”
Except, as we pointed out earlier, the model was published on 7 May 2020. So it would be hard for anyone to check how iSpirt has or has not deviated from it prior to that.
Shetty was also lavish in his praise of Jain. “Sanjay Jain is not on top of trends because he was a volunteer at iSpirt Foundation. iSpirt is on top of trends because Sanjay Jain is a volunteer.”
He also added that once Jain moved to Bharat Innovation Fund as an investor, iSpirt’s Volunteer Fellows Council designed him and his activity within iSpirt to be conflict-free. He, therefore, does not participate in any of the Project Sahay related work.
“The relationship between Bharat Inclusion Seed Fund and Setu is what would be expected in the ordinary course between a seed investor and one of its many portfolio companies,” said a Setu spokesperson.
UPI lifted India’s digital payments ecosystem to unprecedented heights, not just in the country but across the world. Swift, cheap, interoperable, and near-instant transfer of money saw billion-dollar companies like Google flocking to adopt it. Those who did not adopt it early, like WhatsApp, paid the price by being frozen out. Though it started working on a UPI payments product as far back as 2017, it still hasn’t been allowed to launch formally in India.
UPI rendered payments to commodity status. Banks that didn’t pay much heed to UPI at the beginning had to acknowledge that it was a force to reckon with. And soon, payment companies were looking at payment and the data along with it to bring more services—from wealth management to lending, traditionally the remit of banks alone.
But just like payments, what if lending could be democratised across multiple platforms? An e-commerce company like Flipkart or a food-tech company like Swiggy or a ride-sharing company like Uber?
Swiggy could potentially lend to restaurants based on the orders a restaurant did; Uber can lend based on the rides a driver-partner did; Flipkart can give out a loan based on their sellers’ invoices. Even a messaging app like WhatsApp could facilitate lending by simply partnering with AAs and banks for lending.
If tech companies cracked flow-based lending, they would be making a serious move on banks’ territory. This is the kind of lending where business flows like GST Invoice data or payment history could serve as collateral to get loans.
The prize for getting to this opportunity is the credit gap worth a cool $262.9 billion-$328 billion that MSMEs need fulfilling as of March 2019, according to a report by former Securities and Exchange Board of India chairman UK Sinha.
Cue Sahay.
UPI had the market opportunity of demonetisation to get out of the gate. Account aggregators, however, have been stuck at the door for three years now. There has been no opportune moment for the concept to find takers. Moreover, banks have been reluctant to make changes to their tech chops to allow for real-time lending. The other reason for banks’ reluctance to be a part of this network is because it could end up passing user info to other banks. That could cost it a potential borrower.
“Convincing banks to take part in a real-time loan disbursement has been nothing short of explaining a sci-fi concept,” said the co-founder of a startup that is working with banks. So iSpirt took the responsibility of creating a use case, which would inspire banks to be a part of it.
So how is it supposed to work?
The need for something like this came up because MSMEs are not exactly the bank’s favourite set of borrowers. They require small-sized loans (average size of about $6,600) costing upwards of 2% of the loan amount just to process it. For the same cost, lenders can disburse a larger loan to a larger business. This makes MSME loans an unattractive play. And because most banks don’t lend to MSMEs, they don’t know whom to approach even when among banks who do.
With Sahay, the idea is to reduce the cost of borrowing for borrowers by at least two percentage points, said the banker quoted above. “Through this model, we charge 16-24% for the loan. While we would typically charge 19-24% for a business loan,” he said. And since they are invoice-backed loans, they are not as risky as unsecured lending in a Covid-rid world.
Eventually, Sahay’s launch was to spur companies like Flipkart to adopt the framework and be able to partner with banks and AAs to give working capital loans to their suppliers, based on their invoices. “The outcome of Project Sahay, was not one app, as you have assumed, but to catalyse several credit marketplaces to come up to help MSMEs access formal credit,” said Shetty in his response.
Especially now during the pandemic, when MSMEs are hurting the most and a stimulus package aimed at them is still in the works, a solution like this would go a long way.
“The size and urgency of the need to get the economy—especially SMEs—back on their feet is daunting,” said Srikanth Rajagopalan, CEO of Perfios, an account aggregator. “In lending, AAs can digitise data aggregation, risk assessment, flow-based lending, and credit monitoring.”
But ironically, Sahay was called off because business, especially MSMEs’ cash flows, have been hit. Which made the attempt at cash flow-based lending at a time like this futile.
With Sahay now in cold storage, all eyes are now on the account aggregator framework, which was supposed to go live by 20 May. But it is still stuck in limbo as banks are in various stages of testing. No one has gone live yet. That has been the job of the one-year-old non-profit founded by Nilekani, called Sahamati. A collective of account aggregators.
Sahamati has an NPCI-sized task ahead of it.
“When UPI launched, NPCI played a crucial role in leveraging its infrastructure to help UPI scale. Similarly, account aggregators need an institution to coordinate and expand the ecosystem, so that the participants just focus on building new use cases and not worry about the plumbing. Sahamati has a big role to play,” said Rajagopalan of Perfios.
When it was set up, Sahamati was meant to evangelise the concept of account aggregator as well as supporting the implementation and integration of the concept.
But there is still no clarity among the members about the roles and responsibilities of Sahamati. Some account aggregators The Ken spoke to said Sahay will be owned and operated by Sahamati. But when asked, BG Mahesh, the chief of Sahamati and an iSpirt volunteer, told The Ken that this was not Sahamati’s remit.
That leaves a now-in-hiatus product, conceptualised and designed by a private volunteer body, built by a private company, with no owner. “This is a case of putting the chariot ahead of a pony,” said the official of a company part of the flow-based ecosystem.
The collective, meanwhile, is in the process of applying to the RBI to become a self-regulatory organisation (SRO). It will be responsible for setting and enforcing operational guidelines and deciding how each market participant should operate.
“Sahamati is like a GSM alliance or a Bluetooth alliance. We work with players to improve the technical specifications, interoperability, certification, and evangelisation,” said Mahesh.
In a May 2019 report titled Deepening of Digital Payments, author Nilekani suggested that RBI allow new interventions such as letting the account aggregator framework operate as an SRO.
One reason organisations clamour for an SRO status is if they believe regulators don’t know how to regulate a sector. “They think regulators ko akal nahin hain (don’t have much sense),” said a senior banking veteran aware of how SROs function. He didn’t want to be named as he is no longer an active participant in the financial services ecosystem.
In any case, self-regulatory organisations have rarely worked in India. For instance, mutual fund body AMFI, Indian Banks’ Association, aspired to be an SRO but didn’t because of the inherent flaws in being one.
“There is a fundamental dichotomy in an organisation also wanting to be an SRO,” said the banking veteran. His reservations come from the fact that those who are members of the organisation are also competitors, who are now involved in regulating themselves.
“Every member eventually feels someone else is breaking the rule and they don’t want to be regulated by a competing member. They believe the larger players in the group are always favoured. That’s why SROs have not worked anywhere in the world,” he added.
Meanwhile, for account aggregators, the wait is particularly excruciating as the business opportunity is passing it by.
“The AA ecosystem is nascent,” said Rajagopalan of Perfios. “In a perfect world, we would have all the time to achieve consensus in standards, regulations etc. However, in times of crisis, the bias is towards disagreeing, committing, and moving quickly as an ecosystem; perfection can wait. What UPI took five years and demonetisation to achieve, we will need to get done in one year or less.”
The number of Covid-19 cases in India has crossed the 40,000 mark. By the week’s end, it is expected to cross 50,000. Already, 1,389 people are reported to have died from the virus. Yet, even as India eases up on its five-week nationwide lockdown, the country is still desperately short of potentially life-saving equipment in the fight against the virus—ventilators.
According to projections from PD Vaghela, secretary of the department of pharmaceuticals, India requires at least 75,000 ventilators. Vaghela, who is leading a group tasked with procuring medical equipment for the government, says India has fewer than 20,000. To bridge this gap, the government has reportedly ordered upwards of 60,000 ventilators.
Noida-based AgVa is one of the firms that has been tapped for this. The startup is on its way to manufacturing half of the 20,000 ventilators that government-owned HLL Lifecare floated a tender for. With AgVa’s ventilators costing Rs 1.5-2 lakh ($2,000-2,600) per unit, the whole consignment was to be delivered by the end of April.
To date, AgVa—in partnership with automaker Maruti Suzuki—has only delivered 1,500 ventilators. Missed deadlines, though, are hardly the problem. No other Indian ventilator manufacturer has been able to deliver a single ventilator yet. Instead, the issue with AgVa’s ventilators stems from HLL’s tender itself.
Released on 27 March, one of the tender’s requirements was that all ventilators must be certified by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA).
AgVa’s ventilator is not FDA certified. Indeed, no Indian manufacturer has an FDA-certified ventilator. AgVa, though, has a certificate from a third-party company that says it is FDA compliant.
There are two problems with this. The FDA doesn’t certify companies, just products. And the FDA compliance can only be issued by the FDA itself.
In 2018, AgVa was certified by Unitas Certification Services, a company with a UK-based address. Unitas, incidentally, doesn’t appear to exist beyond its website. As recently as last month, AgVa received an IEC 60601 compliance certificate from NFI Certifications Ltd, another UK-registered entity, which appears to be a shell company. According to company filings, it has assets of £1 ($1.25). AgVa did not respond to questions sent via email.
Favouritism and fake certifications mar India’s ventilator procurement
Legitimate certification bodies in India are accredited by the National Accreditation Board for Certification Bodies (NABCB). Globally, accreditation is done by a member of the International Accreditation Forum (IAF), says Anil Jauhri, CEO of NABCB until July last year. “In most countries, in the absence of any law requiring certification bodies to register, accreditation is the only way of recognising a competent, authentic certification body.”
However, the absence of laws hasn’t just led to a rise in the importance of accreditation bodies. It has also spawned an entire industry of opportunistic and unscrupulous certification companies. “Such fake certifications have mushroomed. A difficulty has become a catastrophe,” says a senior executive at a medical equipment manufacturing company.
AgVa’s certification isn’t the only issue. There’s a fundamental problem with HLL’s tender. The open tender released by HLL is also based on the specifications of AgVa’s ventilator, according to the minutes of an HLL meeting obtained by The Ken. That on its own is not a problem. However, the specifications were released in the public domain a full 18 days after they were decided. So, while AgVa sat pretty, nailed on to win the tender, other manufacturers were at a disadvantage. HLL did not respond to questions sent by The Ken via email
Ventilators ain’t easy
Mysuru-based multinational healthcare company Skanray, which in collaboration with DRDO was to produce 30,000 ventilators, has delivered none. Automobile giant Mahindra & Mahindra, which announced with great fanfare that it would help plug the impending demand for ventilators, has gone silent.
Favouritism and fake certifications mar India’s ventilator procurement
The modus operandi of a certification services company is straightforward. It usually has an Indian face, which openly markets itself, offering a variety of compliance certifications: FDA, CE marking, ISO, etc.
A second entity, supposedly overseas, issues the actual certificate. This adds an international flavour to proceedings, even as the issuing entity itself may not actually be incorporated. The price for this varies between Rs 10,000-30,000 ($132-$396) depending on your negotiation skills, with an “international” certificate promised within a week. There are few checks, if any, as to whether the product or company being certified is legitimate.
Through a serial number, this certification can be verified on the website of the international entity.
Interestingly, there is no ostensible link between the Indian entity and the overseas entity, which means multiple Indian certification services could use the same overseas entity.
Solutize Certification, a certification company based in Delhi, is a great example of this certification charade. It offers certifications in the name of Unitas Certification Services, which claims an address based in the United Kingdom (UK). According to Companies House, the UK’s registrar of companies, no such company is incorporated in the UK. Instead, Unitas appears to be merely a website and an address. The address itself leads to a residential property that is currently for sale.
The Ken has acquired certificates that Solutize issued to a number of companies, including AgVa. Electronics and electrical manufacturers Dynamic Systems and Hyglow Industries Limited, as well as industrial safety equipment manufacturer Balaji Industries also received certification from Solutize.
Solutize is hardly alone. Business e-commerce company IndiaMART shows at least 20 other companies that claim to offer FDA certification.
Mumbai-based Ideal Quality Certifications is another such company. The Ken acquired certificates issued in April 2020 to AgVa for its Covid ventilator as well as to small manufacturers such as Kevin Biotech Pvt Ltd and Baunetz Automotive Pvt Ltd to manufacture and sell personal protection equipment.
Certificates issued by Ideal Quality were in the name of UK-based NFI Certifications. Unlike Unitas, NFI is an actual company registered in the UK by an Indian citizen. The registered address, however, is a virtual PO box based in London. More than 47,000 companies are registered at the same address.
Favouritism and fake certifications mar India’s ventilator procurement
NFI Certifications goes further. Its website claims that it is accredited by the UK Akkreditering Forum Limited (UKAF). The UKAF, too, is registered by an Indian citizen and with a registered office address used by 19,000 other companies. Filings with Companies House show UKAF to be a dormant company with net assets of £1 ($1.24).
Unsurprisingly then, AgVa does not find a mention in the FDA’s list of approved ventilators. “It takes anything between a year to five to get FDA’s approval,” says an executive at a medical device manufacturing…
Favouritism and fake certifications mar India’s ventilator procurement
The FDA also prohibits the use of its logo in proposals or consulting deliverables, the way these certificates are used.
Tender troubles
A little over a month ago, The Ken reported on India’s lack of ventilators and how AgVa was stepping into the breach. The company built its own low-cost ventilator—from design to manufacturing—back in 2018. Priced at Rs 1.5 lakh ($2,000), far cheaper than most high-end ventilators, it seemed like an ideal candidate to help make up India’s ventilator shortfall. That it won HLL Lifecare’s tender, then, is unsurprising.
The manner in which it happened, though, raises questions of propriety. HLL’s tender process was riddled with arbitrary and seemingly whimsical changes, which, as it turns out, gave some companies a leg up on the competition.
On 27 March 2020, HLL Lifecare floated an open tender inviting manufacturers to supply an estimated 20,000 ventilators. The tender was an amendment to an earlier, larger tender to procure an assortment of essential Covid-related equipment, including PPE, masks, and sanitisers.
The following day, HLL released another amendment to the tender, relaxing some of the previous specifications. A few days later, on 31 March, it added six more specifications. It also decided on a further three specifications that same day, according to minutes of a meeting accessed by The Ken. These, however, were announced over two weeks later on 18 April. Curiously, these additional specifications were taken as is from AgVa’s ventilator:
While this delay in releasing specifications made no difference to AgVa’s bid, it handicapped the company’s competition, who were blindsided.
This wasn’t the only instance of ad hocism in the process. A healthcare device manufacturer working to build ventilators on a separate tender shared with The Ken the specifications given to them as an annexure dated 2 April. These specifications included those only released publicly on 18 April.
“It just can’t be done, period,” says an employee at a government-run institute that frequently floats tenders to procure expensive machinery used for research. “You can explain the same things in generic terms,” he says. “If it makes it very specific for one company, that tender itself is illegal.”
This chain of events exposes the sheer inadequacy of the government’s processes in the fight against the pandemic. Due diligence was lacking throughout. Not just in verifying certifications or updating the tender in a timely manner, but in the constitution of the tender itself.
The first tender, released on 27 March, mandated FDA approval or CE marking. No Indian ventilator has the former, while only Skanray—which exports to Europe—has the latter. Besides, there’s no singular list to check which products are CE certified. This was later amended to “reputed national/international certifying agency”. Apart from being incredibly vague, this opens the door to shady certification companies.
The need for certification itself flies in the face of the government’s earlier communication, which asked companies to come forward and build ventilators without needing to apply for permissions. India’s bureaucracy, it seems, isn’t even consistent with its own diktats.
Favouritism and fake certifications mar India’s ventilator procurement
“I think all the bodies are trying to do their best and are limited by the legacy of people, systems, and the processes they have, which they are also trying to improve,” says the senior executive quoted earlier.
Whichever way you slice it, though, India’s approach to certification is in desperate need of an overhaul. NABCB’s Jauhri acknowledges that even government entities are unaware of the nuances behind certification. “The MHA released guidelines for PPE which said that they must be certified by a reputed international/national agency. What is a reputed international agency? Is an agency based in Pakistan a reputed international agency?”
In the short term, Jauhri thinks that education is the only way out. “Educate, educate, educate,” he says. “There is no law. Legally there is no bar [to incorporate a certification company].” In the longer term, he believes regulation is the only way out. “Everyone must be regulated. Certification bodies, inspection bodies, labs, even accreditation bodies,” he says. “If there is no law, there is mayhem in the market.”
ग्राम-सुरंगी, जिला-सिलवासा (दादरा नगर हवेली) से नर्मदा बता रहे हैं वे सिंगरौली जिले मध्यप्रदेश के निवासी हैं और इस वक्त लॉकडाउन में फंसे हैं, साथ में 35 लोग हैं सभी किराये के मकान में रहते हैं, उनको खाने की समस्या हो रही थी तब उन्होंने अपनी समस्या को सीजीनेट में रिकॉर्ड किया, जिसके बाद स्थानीय साथी कृंणा शाह, कल्याण भाई, निस्बत व्हट्सएप ग्रुप एवं स्थानीय प्रशासन के सहयोग से उनके खाने की व्यवस्था हो गयी है इसलिये वे मदद करने वाले सभी साथियों को धन्यवाद दे रहे हैं : संपर्क नंबर@7247429861, 7024693760. (165551)
मददकार@कृंणा शाह, कल्याण भाई, निस्बत व्हट्सएप ग्रुप एवं स्थानीय प्रशासन |
साखर उत्पादनाच्या क्षेत्रात भारतात महाराष्ट्र पहिल्या क्रमांकावर आहे. महाराष्ट्रात 173 सहकारी आणि 23 खाजगी साखर कारखाने आहेत. त्यात पश्चिम महाराष्ट्रात सर्वाधिक म्हणजेच 96 साखर कारखाने आहेत. एकूण उसतोड मजुरांची संख्या नऊ ते दहा लाख असून ते महाराष्ट्राच्या वेगवेगळ्या भागांतून वर्षातील जवळपास चार ते सहा महिने साखर कारखान्यावर येतात आणि अस्थिर स्थलांतरितांचे जीवन जगतात. कोरोनाच्या पार्श्वभूमीवर जाहीर करण्यात आलेल्या लॉकडाऊनमुळे या उसतोड मजुरांच्या होत असलेल्या फरफटीकडे लक्ष वेधणारा हा लेख…
लॉकडाऊनच्या काळातही आपल्या कुटुंबियांसोबत घरी सुरक्षित राहत असलेल्यांना साखर गोडच लागत असली तरी साखर निर्मितीतील महत्त्वपूर्ण घटक असलेला ऊसतोडणी मजूर आपल्या घरांपासून दूर आहे. अनेक साखर कारखाने अद्यापही सुरू असल्याने हे मजूर ऊसतोडणीचे काम करीत आहेत. पण त्यांच्या अन्न – धान्याची गरज आणि कोरोनापासून सुरक्षिततेची काळजी कारखानदार आणि ऊस उत्पादक शेतकरी घेत नाहीत.
कोरोनाची झळ समाजातील प्रत्येक घटकांना बसत आहे. पण त्याचे परिणाम आर्थिक घटकांनुसार भिन्न आहेत. तसे पाहता लॉकडाऊनची झळ प्रामुख्याने असंघटित क्षेत्रातील कामगारांना अधिक प्रमाणात बसत आहे. भारतात काम करणाऱ्या एकूण लोकसंख्येपैकी सुमारे 90 टक्के कामगार हे असंघटित क्षेत्रात मोडतात. बांधकाम कामगार, घर कामगार, कचरावेचक आणि विविध सेवा क्षेत्रातील लाखो कामगार शहरी भागांमध्ये, तर ऊसतोडणी मजूर आणि शेतमजूर ग्रामीण भागांत सुरक्षा कवचाशिवाय कार्यरत आहेत. त्यांचे पोट रोजच्या रोजंदारीवर अवलंबून आहे.
शहरी झोपडपट्टीतील विविध क्षेत्रातील असंघटित कामगारांपर्यंत आवश्यक सुविधा, अन्नधान्य पुरवले जात असले तरी ते अपुरे आहे. दैनंदिन गरजेइतके अन्नधान्य मिळत नसल्याचीही उदाहरणे काही भागांतून समोर येत आहेत. तर ग्रामीण भागातील ऊसतोडणी मजूर आवश्यक सुविधांपासून अजूनही वंचितच आहेत.
हे ऊसतोडणी मजूर कोण आहेत? हे पाहता असे लक्षात येते की; मराठवाडा, विदर्भ, उत्तर महाराष्ट्रातील दुष्काळी पट्ट्यातील भूमिहीन अल्पभूधारक शेतकरी हे शेती क्षेत्रातील अरिष्टे आणि रोजगाराचे पर्याय उपलब्ध नसल्याने या व्यवसायात येतात. तर काही समाज पारंपरिक व्यवसाय म्हणूनही यात टिकून आहेत. पुरुषांसोबत महिलाही या व्यवसायात मोठ्या संख्येने आहेत. राज्यातील 16 जिल्ह्यांतील 52 तालुके ऊसतोड मजुरांचा पुरवठा करतात. या व्यवसायाचे स्थायी वैशिष्ट्य म्हणजे स्थलांतर. साधारणतः कारखाना परिसरात सहा महिन्यांसाठी हंगामी स्वरूपाचे स्थलांतर होते. हे स्थलांतर प्रामुख्याने पश्चिम महाराष्ट्र, कर्नाटक आणि गुजरात राज्यांमध्ये होते. या व्यवसायात सुमारे नऊ ते दहा लाख ऊसतोडणी मजूर काम करतात. त्यात बीड आणि अहमदनगर जिल्ह्यांमधील संख्या सर्वाधिक आहे.
लॉकडाऊन सुरू झाला तेव्हा पहिल्या टप्प्यात विविध जिल्ह्यांत अडकलेल्या ऊसतोडणी मजुरांना दोन दिवसांत आपापल्या गावी जाण्याची परवानगी शासनाने दिली. त्यासाठी धनंजय मुंडे यांनी प्रयत्न केले. तर अजूनही जे मजूर अडकले आहेत त्यांच्यासाठी पंकजा मुंडे यांनी मुख्यमंत्र्यांशी पत्रव्यवहार केला आहे. त्या दोन दिवसांत जेवढे मजूर गावी गेले त्यांना क्वारंटाईन (विलगीकरण) केले गेले. परंतु असंख्य मजुरांना वाहने भेटली नाहीत. पूर्व सूचना न देता लॉकडाऊन केल्यामुळे तसेच लॉकडाऊनची बातमी वेळेत समजू न शकल्याने असंख्य कामगारांना कारखान्यांवर थांबावे लागले. अशा अडकलेल्या मजुरांची संख्या सुमारे दोन लाख इतकी आहे. ज्या कारखाना हद्दीतील ऊस संपला तेथील कारखान्यांचा गळीत हंगाम संपल्याने फेब्रुवारी महिन्यामध्येच लाखो मजूर गावी परतले.
परंतु पश्चिम महाराष्ट्रातील अनेक साखर कारखान्यांचा गळीत हंगाम सुरु असल्याने तेथील मजूर मात्र अडकले. बैलगाडी कामगारांपेक्षा टोळी कामगार मोठ्या संख्येने अडकलेले दिसतात. परंतु यातील एक बाब म्हणजे, ऊसक्षेत्र जास्त असलेल्या जिल्ह्यांतील कारखान्यामधील काम लॉकडाऊनमध्येही नेहमीप्रमाणेच सुरू आहे. ऊस उत्पादक शेतकऱ्यांच्या शेतातील ऊसतोडणीचे आणि तो ऊस कामगारांमार्फत कारखान्यांपर्यंत पोहोचवण्याचे काम लॉकडाऊनमध्येही काही जिल्ह्यांमध्ये सुरू आहे. यामध्ये प्रामुख्याने सांगली, सातारा, कोल्हापूर, पुणे, सोलापूर, अहमदनगर या शुगरबेल्टचा समावेश आहे. खुद्द सहकार मंत्री बाळासाहेब पाटलांचा सह्याद्री (कराड) सहकारी साखर कारखाना लॉकडाऊनमध्येही पूर्णपणे सुरू आहे.
लॉकडाऊनमधून शेतीतील कामांना, शेतीपूरक कामांना आणि शेती उत्पादन वाहतूक इत्यादींना सूट देण्यात आली. परंतु ऊसतोडणी, ऊस वाहतूक आणि कारखान्यातील प्रत्यक्ष काम यांसाठी मोठ्या संख्येने कामगार लागतात. या सर्व प्रक्रियेत पाचपेक्षा अधिक मजूर एकत्रित येतात. मग त्यांना संसर्गाचा धोका नाही का? शहरी उद्योग बंद असताना साखर कारखाने सुरू कसे आहेत, हा मोठा प्रश्न आहे. शेतीच्या कामाआडून साखरसम्राट आपले हितसंबंध साध्य करत आहेत. ऊसतोडणी अभावी शेतातील ऊस वाळून जाईल, ही चिंता ऊस उत्पादक शेतकऱ्यांना आहे तर कारखाना हंगाम संपण्याआधी बंद केला तर साखर सम्राटांची आर्थिक हानी होईल ही चिंता कारखानदारांना आहे. या दोन्ही घटकांनी आपल्या आर्थिक हितसंबंधातून ऊसतोडणीचे काम व साखर कारखाने सुरू ठेवले. पण हे दोन्ही घटक ऊसतोडणी मजूर या तिसऱ्या घटकांच्या नुकसानीची चिंता करताना दिसत नाहीत.
आश्चर्याची बाब म्हणजे, जेथे कारखाने सुरू आहेत तेथे कोरोनासंदर्भात कसलीही काळजी तेथील स्थानिक प्रशासन किंवा साखर कारखान्यांचे व्यवस्थापक घेत नाही. ऊसतोडणी मजूर अशोक मुंडे यांच्या मते, मजुरांना मास्क, सॅनिटायझर किंवा साबण इत्यादी कोणी पुरवत नाही आणि कोणी सोशल डिस्टंसिंगचे नियमही पाळत नाही. आधीपासूनच अपुऱ्या सुविधा, अशुद्ध पाणी, कच्ची घरे, गर्भपाताची समस्या, मुलांच्या शिक्षणाचे प्रश्न, आरोग्याचे प्रश्न इत्यादी समस्यांना हे मजूर सामोरे जातात. त्यात कोरोनाच्या काळातही आरोग्य तपासणी यंत्रणा आणि अन्नधान्य पुरवठा करणाऱ्या यंत्रणेचा अभावच आहे.
शासनाने कोरोनाच्या पार्श्वभूमीवर दारिद्र्यरेषेखालील कुटुंबांना तीन महिने रेशन दुकानातून मोफत धान्य पुरवठा करण्याचे आदेश प्रशासनाला दिले आहेत. परंतु या मजुरांसमोर वेगळाच पेच उभा आहे. ऊसतोडणी मजुरांना रेशनकार्ड असूनही कामाच्या ठिकाणी रेशन दुकानातून रेशन दिले जात नाही तर त्यांच्या मूळ गावीच रेशन दिले जाते. यांच्याकडे रेशनकार्ड नसल्याचा तांत्रिक मुद्दा समोर नाही. कारण 2018 – 19 मध्ये द युनिक फाउंडेशनने केलेल्या एका अभ्यासात 65 टक्के ऊसतोड मजुरांकडे रेशनकार्ड असल्याचे दिसून आले. परंतु या रेशनकार्डांचा वापर त्यांच्या गावातच करता येतो.
दुसरा पेच म्हणजे हे मजूर कामावर येण्याआधीच मुकादमाकडून उचल घेतात. हंगाम सुरू होण्याच्या अगोदरच उचल घेणाऱ्यांचे प्रमाण 90 टक्के आढळले. आणि त्यांच्यात खासगी सावकारांकडून कर्ज घेण्याचे प्रमाणही अधिक आहे. कर्जाचा व्याजदरही अधिक असतो. त्यामुळे त्यांच्याकडे कामाच्या ठिकाणी खर्च करण्याएवढा पैसा हाती नसतो. त्यामुळे विकत राशन घेण्यासाठी अनेक जण समर्थ नसतात. रामकिसन सानप (मुकादम) यांच्या मते, लॉकडाऊनमध्येही हे मजूर काम करीत असल्याने कारखान्यांनी या मजुरांना एक टन ऊसतोडणीमागे पन्नास रुपये वाढवून देण्याचे आश्वासन दिले. परंतु त्याचा त्वरित लाभ होत नाही. अशा परिस्थितीत भर घालणारी शोकांतिका म्हणजे साखर कारखानदारांनी सोयीस्करपणे ऊसतोडणी कामगारांची जबाबदारी झटकून ती मुकादमावर लोटून दिलेली दिसते.
‘हे ऊसतोडणी मजूर कोणाचे?’ हा प्रश्न जुनाच आहे. औद्योगिक न्यायालयाने आणि कामगार कायद्याने ऊसतोडणी मजूर व वाहतूकदार हे साखर कारखान्यांचे कामगार असल्याचे स्पष्ट करूनही साखर कारखानदार ही बाब मानण्यास तयार नाहीत. प्रत्यक्ष व्यवहारात कारखाने हे मजूर पुरवठा संस्थेची स्थापना करून त्या संस्थेमार्फत मुकादमांसोबत मजूर पुरवठा करण्याचा करार करतात. आणि त्या मजुरांची सर्व जबाबदारी त्या संस्थेवर टाकतात. संस्थेच्या वतीने कारखान्याचे अधिकारी आपल्या एम.डी.च्या मताप्रमाणे बोलणी करून मुकादमावर वर्चस्व राखतात. परंतु कारखान्याअंतर्गत असलेली संस्था मजुरांच्या सुरक्षिततेची जबाबदारी स्वतःवर घेत नाहीत.
लॉकडाऊनच्या काळात काही कारखाने आणि ऊस उत्पादक शेतकरी हे मजुरांना जेवण किंवा रेशन पुरवत आहेत. पण अशांची संख्या कमी आहे. रतन तोंडे सांगतात की, शिरोळच्या दत्त साखर कारखान्यावर गहू (5किलो), तांदूळ (4 किलो), साखर (2 किलो), व चहा पावडरचे वाटप केले. तर प्रा. हर्शल वालांडकर यांच्या मते, हुतात्मा नाईकवाडी सहकारी साखर कारखान्याने (वाळवा) ऊसतोड मजुरांना मास्क, हँडवॉश आणि रेशन दिले आहे. शिवाय आरोग्य तपासणीची सोयही केली आहे आणि येथील मजूर सोशल डिस्टंसिंगचे नियमही पाळत आहेत. प्रवीण पाटील (आधार फाउंडेशन) यांच्या मते, मराठवाड्यातील ऊस तोडणीचे काम संपल्याने येथील कारखाने बंद आहेत. पाण्याअभावी ऊस लागवड कमी झाल्याने मराठवाड्यातील हंगाम लवकर संपला. तरी जागृती साखर कारखाना परिसरात (देवणी, लातूर) जे मजूर अडकले त्यांच्या राहण्याची व जेवणाची सोय जागृती कारखान्याने केली आहे.
आपल्या नवऱ्यासोबत महिलाही कोयता घेऊन फडात जातात. या महिलांनाही लॉकडाऊनचा फटका बसतोय. सुनिता तोंडे सांगतात की, कारखान्यावर थांबलेल्या महिलांना स्वच्छतागृहांची कमी असल्याने समस्या येत आहेत. अपुऱ्या स्वच्छतागृहांमुळे उघड्यावर शौचास बसावे लागत आहे. पण ज्या महिला शेतात थांबल्या त्या उसाच्या फडात शौचास बसतात. त्या पुढे असेही सांगतात की रोग आलाय एवढेच माहिती आहे. त्याची लक्षणे कोणती याविषयीची माहिती नाही.
मीरा सानप आणि सिंधुबाई शिरसाट सांगतात की, ‘शेतात किंवा कारखान्यावर जे थांबले ते एकत्रित मोठ्या संख्येने राहातात, ते सामाजिक अंतर पाळत नाहीत. एकच चांगली गोष्ट म्हणजे, आम्हाला भाजीपाला मुबलक आणि 10 रुपये किलो किंवा काही शेतात मोफत मिळत आहे. कारण शहरात भाजीपाला कमी जात असल्यामुळे ग्रामीण भागात शिल्लक राहातोय. मीरा सानप आणि सुनिता तोंडे दुःख व्यक्त करतात की, आमची आणि अनेकांची लहान लेकरं ,वृद्ध माणसं गावीच असल्याने त्यांची काळजी लागून राहिली आहे आणि त्यांना आमची काळजी लागली आहे.’
कोरोनाच्या पार्श्वभूमीवर मजूर भीतीच्या मनःस्थितीत काम करत आहेत. या मजुरांना विम्यासारखे सुरक्षाकवचही नसताना कोरोनाच्या वातावरणात काम करावे लागत आहे. त्यांच्यात कोरोना आजाराविषयीचे अज्ञानही आहे. त्यांच्यात काही अफवाही पसरल्या. उदाहरणार्थ, कर्नाटक, महाराष्ट्र सीमेवरील आमदापूर गावात बाळुमामा देवाची मूर्ती आहे. ही मूर्ती बोलली आणि म्हणाली की, मानवजातीवरील कोरोनाचे संकट घालवायचे असेल तर, पहाटे उठून बिनदुधाचा भंडारा टाकून चहा प्या. बाळूमामाने सांगितले म्हणून अनेक गावात ऊसतोडणी मजूर बिनदुधाचा भंडारा टाकलेला चहा पिऊ लागले आहेत. अशा अंधश्रद्धांविषयी समुपदेशनाची आवश्यकताही आहे. कोरोना संदर्भातील जागृती करण्याची जबाबदारी काही अपवादात्मक कारखाने वगळता कोणत्याही कारखान्यांनी केले नाही.
रामकिसन सानप, अशोक मुंडे, रतन तोंडे यांसारख्या अनेकांनी, ‘आम्हा सर्वांना गावी घरी जाण्याची ओढ लागली आहे आणि आम्ही चातकाप्रमाणे लॉकडाऊन संपण्याची वाट पाहत आहोत’, असे मत नोंदवले. तर कारखानदार हे ऊस उत्पादक शेतकऱ्यांना परिसरातील ऊस संपेपर्यंत कारखाना सुरू ठेवण्याचे आश्वासन देत आहेत. पण मजुरांना सुविधांपासून वंचित ठेवत आहेत.
सहकारी साखर कारखानदारी ही राज्याच्या अर्थ-राजकारणाचा आधार राहिला आहे. सहकारातून ग्रामीण भागाचा कायापालटही झाला. साठ-सत्तरीच्या दशकातील अनेक साखर सम्राटांनी ऊस उत्पादक शेतकऱ्यांसोबतच कामगारांचे हितही जपले. पण आज नफेखोरीच्या काळात कामगारांचे शोषणच अधिक होताना दिसते.
लॉकडाऊनच्या काळात साखर कारखानदारांनी ऊसतोडणी मजुरांना अन्नधान्य पुरवण्याचे आवाहन खा. शरद पवार यांनी केले. पण त्याकडे काही अपवाद वगळता सर्वांचे दुर्लक्ष होताना दिसते. कारखान्यांनी आपले सीएसआर फंड मजुरांसाठी वापरण्याची आज आवश्यकता आहे. अन्न आणि नागरी पुरवठा मंत्रालयाने आणि महसूल विभागानेही रेशनकार्ड नसले तरी गरजूंना रेशन देण्याचे आदेश दिले आहेत. त्या आदेशाचे पालन करणे आवश्यक आहे. श्रीमंत ऊस उत्पादक शेतकरी आणि साखर कारखानदारांनी थोडी संवेदनशीलता दाखवून लॉकडाऊनच्या काळात तरी साखर उद्योगातील ऊसतोडणी मजूर या महत्त्वपूर्ण घटकांचे पालक होण्याची आवश्यकता आहे.
लॉकडाऊनमुळे कारखान्यावर अडकलेल्या ऊसतोडणी मजुरांना त्यांच्या गावी पोहचविण्याचा निर्णय शासनाने नुकताच घेतला आहे. हा निर्णय स्वागतार्ह आहे. त्यासाठी प्रयत्न करणारे धनंजय मुंडे, पंकजा मुंडे, डॉ. डी.एल.कराड, महाराष्ट्र ऊसतोडणी व वाहतूक कामगार संघटना ,इतर संघटना ,अजित पवार,शरद पवार आणि मुख्यमंत्री उध्दव ठाकरे यांचे आभार ! पण या निर्णयातील पुढील काही विसंगतीवरही विचार झाला पाहिजे,
1. शासन निर्णयात 38 कारखाने सुरु होते आणि तेथील मजूर अडकले असे म्हटलं आहे. पण प्रत्यक्षात त्यापेक्षा अधिक कारखाने सुरु होते.
2. अडकलेल्या मजुरांसाठी कारखान्यांनी तात्पुरते निवारागृह सुरु केल्याचे त्या निर्णयात नोंदवले आहे. पण काही कारखान्यांचा अपवाद वगळता अनेक कारखान्यांनी निवाऱ्याची सोयच केली नाही.
3. शासन निर्णय सांगतो की, 1,31,500 ऊसतोडणी मजूर अडकले आहेत. पण वास्तविक ही संख्या दोन लाखांपर्यत आहे.
4. कामगारांना त्यांच्या गावी सोडण्याची जबाबदारी साखर कारखान्यावर सोपवली आहे. पण किती दिवसात सोडले पाहिजे आणि कोणत्या वाहनाने सोडले पाहिजे या विषयीचे निर्देश नाहीत. शिवाय कोणत्याही वाहनातून प्रवास करताना सोशल डिस्टंन्सिंगचे नियम कसे पाळावेत याविषयीचे स्पष्टीकरण नाही.
5. यासाठी कारखान्यांनी संबंधित जिल्ह्यातील जिल्हाधिकारी यांची मान्यता घ्यायची आहे. ही प्रक्रिया वेळखाऊ आहे. त्यामुळे संबंधित मजूर त्वरित आपापल्या गावी जातील याची शक्यता कमी वाटते.
New Delhi: Even as the entire country is under a lockdown, the Uttar Pradesh police served a notice to Siddharth Varadarajan, a founding editor of The Wire, on Friday asking him to appear at the Ayodhya police station at 10 am on Tuesday, April 14.
A group of policemen served the notice at his residence in Delhi, some of whom said they had driven the 700 km from Ayodhya to do so. The national lockdown is on until April 14 and there are reports that it could be extended. Movements have been severely restricted during this period.
The notice under Section 41(A) of the Criminal Procedure Code cites an FIR registered by the Faizabad police claiming that Varadarajan had made an “objectionable” comment about Uttar Pradesh chief minister Yogi Adityanath. This is one of two FIRs registered on the basis of private complaints by individuals described as residents of Faizabad in Uttar Pradesh. In one of the FIRs, the complainant objects to an unspecified tweet by Varadarajan, while the second complainant, as recorded in the FIR, says:
“The Wire editor on his blog (sic), with the aim to spread rumours and hostility among the public, publicised the following message:
“On the day the Tablighi Jamaat event was held, Yogi Adityanath insisted that a large fair planned for Ayodhya on the occasion of Ram Navami from March 25 to April 2 would proceed as usual while Acharya Paramhans said that ‘Lord Ram would protect devotees from the coronavirus’. One day after Modi announced the “curfew like” national lockdown on March 24, Adityanath violated the official guidelines to take part in a religious ceremony in Ayodhya along with dozens of people”.”
The editor was not named. Though the contents of this FIR are statements of fact that were widely reported in the media, the police went ahead and filed a case. The details of this – along with copies of the two FIRs – were promptly circulated on Twitter by the media adviser to Adityanath.
Though the FIR does not explicitly say so, the words it quotes are similar to what appeared in a story in The Wire on March 31 about the sealing of the Tablighi Jamaat premises in Delhi. The story mentioned, by way of background, the Adityanath government’s stand on gatherings in Ayodhya at the time the Tablighi event was supposedly underway (i.e. March 15-18) and Adityanath’s presence with other people at a religious event in Ayodhya one day after Prime Minister Modi had declared a national lockdown and a ban on all such gatherings.
An earlier version of the story had incorrectly attributed Paramhans’s quote to Adityanath but a correction was made subsequently and noted in the article itself. Varadarajan had also publicly posted a clarification to this effect on social media.
Nandini Sundar, a professor of sociology at Delhi University and wife of Varadarajan, posted a series of tweets describing what happened when the police contingent arrived at their home on Friday afternoon:
When it comes to the gross abuse of police power by the Adityanath administration in UP and its intolerance of press freedom, it is clear that COVID-19, the lockdown and social distancing make no difference whatsoever.
Yesterday, April 10, at 2 pm a plainclothes man came to our home and said he had come from the Ayodhya ‘prashasan’ to serve notice on Siddharth Varadarajan. He would not give his name. I told him to leave it in the mailbox. He refused.
At 3:20, he came with 7-8 uniformed men (at least 2 not in masks) in black SUV, no number plates. Only two identified themselves. On insisting, they gave plainclothes man’s name as Chandrabhan Yadav, not designation. They said they’d driven from Ayodhya for this urgent work!
They refused to let me sign the notice—”Our rule is not to give it to women and minors”—. When asked to be shown the rule, they sought instructions on phone and let me sign. Then, they phoned their boss to say “notice has been received”.
The notice asks @svaradarajan to appear in Ayodhya April 14, 10 am (when lockdown will still be in force) in connection with FIR registered by the police for factual @thewire_in story which said Adityanath & others had attended a religious event in Ayodhya after the lockdown
On April 3, the Editors Guild of India described the FIR against Varadarajan as an “overreaction” and “intimidation”.
The New York-based Committee for the Protection of Journalists, the South Asia Media Defenders Network and the Delhi Union of Journalists (DUJ) have all issued statements condemning the cases against The Wire and its founding editor, and have demanded that they be withdrawn. The DUJ also said in its statement, emailed to The Wire, “We urge all governments, both in the states and at the centre, to concentrate on attacking the virus and protecting citizens from the fallout of the lockdown.”
The Lede had first reported that Indians who tested positive are struggling to find spaces for quarantine
As the number of Indian COVID-19 positive patients is increasing in the United Arab Emirates (UAE), the Indian Consulate General has acquired two buildings in Dubai to quarantine the patients.
A source who is actively involved with the Indian embassy and Ministry of External Affairs in setting up the facility told The Lede that at least 200 patients can be quarantined in the two buildings.
The Lede had reported on April 08 that migrant workers in the UAE who have tested COVID-19 positive are asked to stay home as government hospitals do not have beds and private hospitals are too costly.
Talking to The Lede many social workers, both Indian and of other nationalities said that they are desperately looking for vacant flats as they want to house their COVID-19 positive friends and those who have symptoms.
In the Arab Gulf countries, the accommodation of migrant workers is congested and unhygienic too. Most of them share accommodation. A room that is meant for five people has at least 10 occupants.
On March 05, The Lede had reported that migrant workers were staying in unhygienic and congested accommodation which is a severe risk factor of the COVID-19 outbreak.
Meanwhile, the source said that the two buildings acquired are in the Al Warsan area.
“The buildings will be under Dubai Health Authority control and all health protocol will be followed,” the source said.
As of April 09, there are 2990 COVID-19 cases with 14 deaths. The UAE has conducted 539,195 tests for COVID-19 since the outbreak began.
Meanwhile, a letter from the Consulate General of India in Dubai reveals the Consulate is looking for medics and nurses to attend the isolation wards in the acquired building.
The letter reveals that five medics and 12 nurses are required to attend the quarantine facility.
The letter also adds that the medics and paramedics will be paid and accommodation for them will be arranged in the same building as 24X7 attention is needed.
Meanwhile, the source said that the next challenge they are going to face is the shortage of medics.
“We may have to fly in medics from India. That’s the only workable plan. We are working on that,” the source added.
Additionally, the source said the DHA has also acquired a building that can quarantine 3000 patients.
“We are hopeful such initiatives will help us to overcome this crisis,” the source added.
Meanwhile, in a live television program on Manorama News on Friday, the Minister of State for External Affairs V Muraleedharan said repatriation of Indians stranded abroad can be considered only from May and on a priority basis.
Many Indians who are stuck in the Gulf had requested the minister carry out a mass evacuation.
Denying the possibility of mass repatriation of Indians, the minister said the government can only allow repatriation of stranded Indians on a priority basis since arranging quarantining facilities for tens of thousands of Indians returning home is not practically possible.
“Elderly citizens, pregnant women and those requiring treatment back home will be given priority,” he said.
Meanwhile, a plea has been filed in the Supreme Court seeking to rescue Indian migrant workers in the Arab Gulf during the COVID-19 outbreak, on concerns that these migrant workers are being “denied treatment in hospitals even after testing positive.”
Talking to The Lede, Advocate Jose Abraham from Pravasi Legal Cell said that they have approached the Court to direct the government to make “appropriate arrangements to rescue and bring the Indian migrants stranded in Gulf countries who are living in the vulnerable condition in labour accommodations.”
The Pravasi Legal Cell, which stands for the migrant workers’ welfare, has also requested the court to direct the government to initiate steps to ensure that adequate food, medicines, quarantine and emergency service facilities are provided to these persons.
The plea notes that the Indian government did operate flights to bring back Indian citizens from other countries but “did not make any effort to bring back the stranded Indians from Gulf countries.”
The first confirmed case of COVID-19 was announced on January 29 in UAE. It was the first country in the Middle East to report a confirmed case.
The first patient, a 73-year-old Chinese woman, was released on February 09 after recovering.
The first two deaths were confirmed on March 20. And on March 22, Dubai started an 11-day sterilisation campaign as an effort to contain the Coronavirus. A night curfew was imposed on March 26 while the country began disinfection.
After putting certain areas under lockdown, the Emirati government announced a two-week lockdown on April 05 to contain the COVID-19 spread.
The government has also announced a two-week, 24-hour sterilisation campaign in Dubai emphasising that residents have to stay at home and anyone violating the restrictions will face stringent legal action.
A video of a vendor licking his finger while handling fruits on his cart has been massively shared on social media in the backdrop of the coronavirus pandemic. While the unhygienic behaviour has shocked many, there has been a deliberate attempt to portray it as a willful act to spread coronavirus. Twitter user Desi Mojito posted the video with the message, “This is next level. Be safe and careful people”. The tweet has garnered more than 4,300 retweets so far.
The video was also picked up by TV9 Bharatvarsh. The channel termed the vendor “corona criminal” thus giving the impression that it is a recent clip. Towards the end of the show, the channel provided Superintendent of Police (SP) Raisen’s statement that the clip is old and a case has been registered against the fruit-seller.
BJP member Major Surendra Poonia, Swarajya columnist Shefali Vaidya, BJP supporter Sonam Mahajan, Sankrant Sanu, and Mohammed Tawhidi (@Imamofpeace) were among the prominent social media accounts who tweeted the video with a similar narrative. Their tweets have amassed a combined retweet count of more than 13,000.
Alt News found that the video is from Madhya Pradesh’s Raisen town and dates back to February 2020. With a keyword search on Google, we found a report published by Dainik Bhaskar on April 3, 2020. According to the report, the fruit-seller in the video is Sheru Khan, a resident of Raisen town. He sets up his fruit cart in the main market. An FIR was filed against the fruit-seller under sections 269 and 270 of the Indian Penal Code on April 3, 2020.
According to the FIR, the said incident took place on February 16, 2020. The complainant Bodhraj Tipatta said that he had filmed this video while sitting at his friend Bhavishya Kumar’s pan shop when he saw this vendor “infecting” the fruits with his saliva. In a statement given to the police, Tipatta informed that he shot this video on February 16. According to him, the vendor’s actions could prove to be dangerous to spread an “epidemic”.
However, Khan’s daughter Fiza claims that her father is mentally unstable. She informed that her father was beaten by the police after a case was filed against him. Khan’s daughter also claimed that due to his illness he constantly makes gestures of counting notes – the same way he is seen “counting” the fruits. We are not able to independently verify her claims.
Fiza said that the video is more than six weeks old and that her father borrows cart from other people whenever he feels like selling fruits.
While speaking to the media, Raisen SP reiterated that the video was old and assured residents that the issue was being investigated and there is “nothing to fear”. Sukhla also informed that there has not been a single case of coronavirus so far in the town. A keyword search on Twitter also bore no results for coronavirus positive cases in Raisen district.
Therefore, the video of a Muslim vendor licking his finger and touching the fruits while placing them on his cart was shot in mid-February this year. It may be noted that the first confirmed coronavirus case in India was reported on January 30, 2020, but the government had declared the outbreak as a notified disaster only on March 14. The first coronavirus positive case in Madhya Pradesh was reported on March 20. The vendor’s act was unarguably unhygienic however the issue has been grossly twisted on social media with several individuals terming it deliberate and calling for a boycott of Muslim vendors.
Ever since Delhi’s Nizamuddin was identified as a coronavirus hotspot, several old and unrelated videos showing the Muslim community in poor light are being circulated on social media. We have observed a deliberate pattern to delegitimize the community. Earlier this week, a video of a group practising a ritual in Sufism was falsely shared as intentional sneezing inside Nizamuddin mosque. Another old video, which was initially viral in Singapore and UAE, was shared with the claim that a Muslim man was spitting on food. All these videos have been used to call for a boycott of the community, especially the lower economic sections of the society such as vegetable and fruit vendors. This act of communalising a pandemic is disturbing as well as dangerous.
Note: The number of positive cases of the novel coronavirus in India exceeds 5,000 and more than 150 deaths have so far been reported. The government has imposed a complete restriction on movement apart from essential services to tackle the pandemic. Globally, more than 14 lakh confirmed cases and over 80,000 deaths have been reported. There is a sense of panic among citizens, causing them to fall for a variety of online misinformation – misleading images and videos rousing fear or medical misinformation promoting pseudoscience and invalid treatments. While your intentions may be pure, misinformation, spread especially during a pandemic, can take lives. We request our readers to practice caution and not forward unverified messages on WhatsApp and other social media platforms.
After the coronavirus storm blows over, the short-lived benefits to the climate that we have been seeing could be offset by higher carbon emissions and environmentally destructive growth. Unless governments take charge as they get the economy back on its feet and steer greener growth, climate change projects will face a rough road ahead.
There is a video that has been doing the rounds amidst this coronavirus frenzy. It shows how the American news channel Fox News has shifted its coronavirus rhetoric. From its reporters and guests initially saying “the more I learn about it [coronavirus], the less there is to worry,” to after a few weeks, shifting to “we are facing an incredibly contagious and dangerous virus…” Now, this trend of taking something lightly and thinking it’s a myth, to then slowly understanding its grave consequences sounds similar to trends in another emergency that scientists have been warning us about for a while—climate change.
The similarities between the two, though, perhaps end here. The coronavirus storm will (hopefully soon) blow over. But the climate change emergency is here to stay. And I say this despite the hopeful news of lowering carbon emissions across the world, and wildlife taking over canals and cities.
There is a question that needs to be put forth: In the post corona world, as economies get back on their feet, how is climate change action going to be impacted? Lessons from different global sectors hint towards worrying answers.
Oil Prices in a Slump
As countries impose travel restrictions and lockdowns, a significant impact is being felt on international oil prices, as coronavirus led to reduced international demand for crude oil. Consequently, oil prices slumped to a 17-year low. While in the short-term, the shrinking demand for oil and diminishing carbon emissions seems like good news for the planet, the long-term impact of these trends isn’t as promising.
As history shows, once economies recover, the emissions and pollution levels will bounce back. This is what happened post the 2008 recession, where once industrial activity, travel, and consumption gained speed again, they cumulatively offset any short-lived benefits to the climate. And so, carbon emissions grew steadily over the years. Worryingly, the International Monetary Fund is calling the current economic crisis “a crisis like no other” and “way worse” than the 2008 recession. As industries receive a much stronger push to revamp the economy, we may be looking at even larger “bounce back” of emissions.
China should especially brace itself for the re-emergence of carbon emissions, as restrictions on companies in the manufacturing sector can already be seen to be easing out. After a deep contraction in manufacturing in February, Chinese data–in terms of an index called the Purchasing Managers Index (PMI)–disclosed that from March onwards, industries were back in business.
From 37.0 in February, China’s PMI jumped to 52.0 in March; anything above the value of 50.0 indicates that businesses are expanding. As Chinese industries roar once again, it won’t be long before carbon emissions bounce back too.
Out of these, one industry that should quickly get itself working again, is China’s solar industry. When this industry stalled during the coronavirus hit, it caused a ripple effect in solar markets of countries across the globe, including India.
Solar Energy Projects Stall
Now, China is the leading exporter of all things solar, in terms of investments, installed capacity, and manufacturing of solar panels. Such is China’s dominance in the sector that in 2018, amongst the top 10 companies in the world that manufacture, export, and supply solar panels and modules, China comfortably occupied the first rank, and dominated the rest of the rankings too.
Additionally, China’s dominance is also in terms of domestic production of solar energy. Against the global demand for 30-35 GW of solar power in 2012, the available supply in the world was 50-60 GW, where most of this was generated by China.
So, when China locked down production of industries due to the coronavirus hit, much work on the solar and even wind front in other countries, including India, came to a halt. Now, as the lobby group National Solar Energy Federation of India submitted to the Ministry of New and Renewable Energy, solar projects in India are facing project delays and have been pushing for extensions and waivers over previously agreed upon project delivery deadlines. It is quite clear that achieving India’s flagship target of 175GW of renewable energy capacity by 2022 will be a major challenge thanks to coronavirus.
To give relief to companies, India’s Ministry of New and Renewable Energy (MNRE) decided to treat these delays as “force majeure” which is when unforeseeable circumstances prevent the fulfillment of a contract. With this, companies can escape the penalties which would have been imposed for a three-month delay in the commissioning of a project, and a downward revision in tariffs for those projects delayed further.
Funding for Climate Action
Another impact of the coronavirus crisis could be CSR fundings in the environmental space. Recently, the Ministry of Corporate Affairs announced that funds spent on measures to tackle the coronavirus outbreak will be counted towards the corporate social responsibility (CSR) activity of companies. This timely and important move may have an unintended consequence. As funds for CSR get diverted (rightly so) towards tackling the crisis immediately at hand, it is likely that funding intended for other sectors, including environment and climate action, would temporarily be withdrawn. This will be a blow to the already dismal CSR funding of ‘Environment, Animal Welfare, Conservation of Resources’—between 2014 to 2018, only a little more than 8% of total CSR funding in India was spent on the said areas.
The funding of climate action projects could suffer due to another factor. As the global economy struggles to stand on its feet again, companies that are hurting might delay or even cancel climate-friendly policies that require an upfront investment.
The flow of global funds, and the nature and purpose of their use in mitigation and adaptation projects, amongst other things, also takes shape in international negotiations and talks. But in the present scenario, it looks like most such climate talks stand postponed.
Climate Talks and Negotiations
In view of the spreading coronavirus, the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in early March declared that from 6th March till the end of April, the UNFCCC secretariat will not hold any physical meetings.
The scheduled 17th meeting of the Adaptation Committee took place virtually. The agenda included discussions on the overall progress made in achieving goals of enhancing adaptive capacity, strengthening resilience, reducing vulnerability to climate change, amongst others. These discussions were streamed live on their YouTube channel.
But this change has also led to the postponement of other meetings. The Conference of Parties (COP 26) which was to be held in November 2020 in Glasgow, has now been postponed to 2021. This meeting was important in particular, because as enforced upon in the 2015 Paris Climate Change Agreement, it was supposed to spur countries to revise and strengthen their targets for the reduction of greenhouse gas emissions.
Negotiations, discussions, and talks which would have enshrined goals in climate mitigation and adaptation have decelerated with the COVID situation. That this would slow down our fight against climate change can be observed if we put things into perspective: it took 20 such conferences for countries to negotiate the landmark 2015 Paris Agreement that pledges to keep global average temperatures from rising well above 2 degrees celsius. Now as meetings go virtual and even get cancelled, our fight has become temporarily weaker.
How do we move ahead?
There is still an optimistic side to this, a lot of which depends upon stimulus plans that governments will come up with to counter the economic damage from coronavirus. As the International Energy Agency states, “these packages will offer an excellent opportunity to ensure that the essential task of building a secure and sustainable energy future does not get lost amid the flurry of immediate priorities.”
For instance, if these stimulus plans majorly focus on infusing fossil fuel industries with funds, we may be solving one disaster while simultaneously fueling another. In a country like India, which already has 22 of the 30 most polluted cities in the world, this could be a huge step against climate-friendly policies.
To tackle this, the IEA suggests that to stimulate and boost the development of the global economy, large scale investments should be made in clean energy technologies, which would bring the “twin benefits of stimulating economies and accelerating clean energy transitions.” That investments in low carbon and climate-resilient growth can also lead to economic growth is not as questionable anymore. Bold climate action could yield a direct economic gain of USD $26 trillion by 2030 compared with business-as-usual, according to the 2018 report of the New Climate Economy 2018, a flagship project of the Global Commission on the Economy and Climate commissioned by 7 countries.
“Soon, economies will restart. This is a chance for nations to recover better, to include the most vulnerable in those plans, and a chance to shape the 21st-century economy in ways that are clean, green, healthy, just, safe and more resilient,” UN Climate Change Executive Secretary Patricia Espinosa said in a recent statement. Now as the world economy has been presented with a restart button, it will be in the best interest of the planet as well as the economy to focus more on cleaner, low carbon, and climate-resilient growth. Only then, would climate change actions find their rightful space in the post coronavirus world.
Hours before lockdown, Modi asked print-media owners, editors to refrain from negative COVID coverage
Around six hours before Prime Minister Narendra Modi announced a three-week nationwide lockdown, on 24 March, he personally asked over twenty owners and editors from the mainstream print media to publish positive stories about the COVID-19 pandemic. The owners and editors represented media organisations working in 11 different languages, including the senior-most members of national media houses such as the Indian Express Group, the Hindu Group and the Punjab Kesari Group. According to a report on Modi’s official website, the prime minister asked the participants to “act as a link between government and people and provide continuous feedback” on the government’s handling of the COVID-19 crisis. The website further noted that in the interaction, which was conducted via videoconferencing and lasted an hour and a half, the prime minister emphasised that “it was important to tackle the spread of pessimism, negativity and rumor. Citizens need to be assured the government is committed to countering the impact of COVID-19.”
Through the interaction, the prime minister’s website reported, Modi sat with a notebook and pen and could be seen taking down notes when the participants offered suggestions. The exercise almost represented the journalists as a part of the government, as opposed to being members of an institution whose job entailed questioning the government on its shortcomings. Instead, most of the owners and editors appeared grateful for the exchange. The prime minister’s website reported that the journalists committed to “work on the suggestions of the prime minister to publish inspiring and positive stories” about COVID-19. After the interaction, some owners and editors who were present in the meeting took to Twitter to thank the prime minister for making them a part of the videoconference and seeking their opinions, while others published reports on the meeting on the front page the next day, with photos of themselves and Modi on the television screen.
Following the conference, I spoke to nine owners and editors of media houses, from both national and regional media, who participated in the interaction. Almost all of them appeared enamoured by what some described as an important “gesture” from Modi, of considering their opinions.
I asked the owners and editors whether their interaction with Modi, given his suggestion to publish positive stories, would affect their editorial judgment while publishing a critical piece on the government’s policies for fighting the novel coronavirus. Only two of them explicitly said they would publish a critical piece despite the interaction, while three said they would not do so but for different reasons, not due to the interaction. One of them asked me to omit references to such questions while referring to our conversation in this report. Others refused to comment at all.
But a scrutiny of their organisations’ subsequent COVID coverage revealed that Modi’s words of caution had done the job—the newspapers were evidently uncritical of the government’s response to the virus. The coverage of the public-health crisis by these organisations contained little mention of the poor planning and disastrous implementation of the lockdown, or the government’s failure to prepare for the pandemic, such as by stockpiling crucial medical equipment for healthcare workers, despite early warnings by the World Health Organisation.
Viveck Goenka, the chairperson, managing director and editorial director of the Indian Express Group, was among Modi’s invitees to the videoconference. Goenka described the prime minister’s interaction with the media persons and his address to the nation later that day as unprecedented events. “Never before has a prime minister connected and communicated like him with the people of this country, you know, every stakeholder,” Goenka said. “So obviously he is leading from the front.” Referring to a statement by the Congress leader P Chidambaram, in which he supported the lockdown, Goenka added, “Pretty much like Chidambaram said, he is the commander in chief.”
While in comparison to other English-language national dailies the Indian Express has given more space to reports on the deaths of the poor due to the lockdown, its coverage hardly questioned the central government’s poor planning preceding Modi’s announcement. Instead, the paper reported the deaths either as an inevitable consequence of the lockdown or as incidents which the government could not have prevented. For instance, in a report about Delhi’s migrant workers scrambling to find buses and walking to their homes in Uttar Pradesh, there was no mention of what the government could have done in advance for such workers. The report called the exodus “an unfolding human crisis” to which the central and state governments responded by “ordering relief camps” and “arranging transportation.”
Following the videoconference with Modi, Malini Parthasarthy, the co-chairperson of the Hindu Group and the director of its editorial strategy team, tweeted:
We were privileged to be part of PM @narendramodi’s interaction with print media representatives. His strong commitment to ensure that India does not succumb to the COVID pandemic is demonstrable. He has strategic clarity on how to move forward. We are certainly in good hands!
Rishi Darda, the joint media director and editorial director of Lokmat Media, the publisher of a popular daily in Maharashtra, also participated in the interaction and tweeted about it afterwards. In a series of tweets, Darda posted several pictures that either showed him listening to Modi via videoconference, or had the prime minister and him both on a split screen.
Since the lockdown, Parthasarthy has tweeted positive articles published by The Hindu about the government’s response to the COVID-19 pandemic. These include reports titled, “There was no leniency in screening for foreign travelers, ‘prosperous Indians’, says Centre”; “US announces $174 mn aid to 64 countries including $2.9 mn to India”; and “With over 180 fresh cases in 24 hours, India shifts focus to hotspots.”
Parthasarthy refused to speak about her conversation with Modi, noting that “it was meant to be off the record, it was not meant to be spoken.” The Hindu’s coverage of the pandemic projects an image that every minister, department and ministry of the central government has been highly proactive in the fight against the virus. The few reports citing the government’s lack of preparation referred to it as allegations raised by opposition parties.
I also contacted Jaideep Bose, the editorial director of the Times of India, who was present in the conference. He refused to comment. The Times of India’s coverage since the lockdown has been far from even being informative, as the prime minister had suggested during the interaction. Instead, India’s most widely circulated English daily has reported that celebrities such as Akshay Kumar had donated to the prime minister’s COVID relief fund, that the television actress Hina Khan could sketch, and that Pakistani Hindus were being denied food during a lockdown in Karachi, among other things.
Among the English national dailies, the Hindustan Times’scoverage of the public-health crisis appeared to most diligently follow Modi’s suggestion on publishing “positive stories” and avoiding “negativity.” Shobhana Bhartia, the chairperson and editor of HT Media and publisher of the Hindustan Times, was also among the participants. Yet, when the newspaper published a four-column story about Modi’s conference the next day, the report attributed the conversations during the interaction as coming from two anonymous sources. In fact, the article did not quote or mention Bhartia while recounting the interaction, despite her having been a part of it.
Among the COVID-related articles published by the Hindustan Times, there were reports titled, “86 people in India beat Covid-19, nearly 10% of all coronavirus patients recover”; “Govt forms empowered groups, task force to deal with Covid-19 outbreak”; “Pregnant woman, her husband forced to walk over 100km without food; rescued by locals”; and “India’s relief package vs the world’s; what more can Modi government do?” None of these reports were critical of the government’s policies. While there undoubtedly are benefits of reporting feel-good stories during times of crisis, Bhartia and the Hindustan Times appeared to have taken a conscious decision not to question the government’s failings at all.
Modi’s interaction was not in the form of a press conference where the participating media owners and editors could, say, ask questions about the government’s measures to prepare for the increasing gravity of the crisis, or its insistence that India is not yet in the stage of community transmission despite doctors and public-health experts repeatedly challenging these claims. Instead, the exchange between the prime minister and the editors seemed to be to a platform where Modi could take the editors into his confidence and ask them what they thought should be done. It was not Modi’s only such interaction with journalists either. The previous day, Modi had held a similar meeting with senior television journalists. Following the lockdown, on 27 March, Modi also interacted with radio jockeys to issue the same advice he had tendered to the print media.
Not only journalists, even politicians who own media houses participated in the meeting without questioning it. In March 2019, Tathagat Satpathy, a former member of parliament from the Biju Janata Dal, and the publisher and editor of Dharitri, an Odia daily, and Orissa Post, a regional English daily, had announced that he was quitting active politics to focus on journalism. He, too, was part of the videoconference with print owners and editors. Modi “wanted to give an impression to all of us that, ‘I am there and I’m accessible to you people in this time of crisis,’” Satpathy said. He added that the prime minister urged the editors and media-house owners to “ensure that people remain calm.”
Satpathy said that Modi wanted the editors to use the “credibility” of the print media to stop the spread of fake news around COVID-19 and publish only “the truth.” When asked what he would do if the truth involved writing a critical piece on the government’s health policy—for instance, about its failure to stockpile personal protective equipment—Satpathy answered, “Nobody asked that” to the prime minister. He added, “Nobody has the spunk to do it. Let’s be honest.”
Orissa Post gave only one column to its report on the prime minister’s interaction. Satpathy claimed that Modi “didn’t dump any responsibility on print media” to publish only positive news on coronavirus. He said that he would publish critical stories as well, but when asked if he felt the other editors who participated in the interaction would do the same, Satpathy answered, “They would be hesitant.”
Satpathy explained his reading of the interaction. Modi “realised that print and especially other regional media has a reach … where television and other things couldn’t go,” he said. Satpathy believed that Modi was also trying to break his anti-media image, considering that he has never given a press conference, by communicating with media persons directly. “He has this knack,” Satpathy said, speaking about Modi’s people skills. He recounted how Modi would greet people, “‘Arey Satpathyji, namaste, we are missing you in Parliament.’ This is a very good technique of a leader, that he endears you. You feel like, oh my god, he remembers you. He is good at that.”
The former parliamentarian believed that Modi’s interaction with the print media should be interpreted as one guided by genuine concern. “I was surprised that he actually patiently heard every single person,” Satpathy said. “For the first time, I found him very positive. He was open and he surprised me, to be honest.”
Satpathy was one among multiple Oriya journalists to join the interaction. Soumya Ranjan Patnaik, a sitting parliamentarian from the Biju Janata Dal, and the editor and founder of Sambad, another popular Odia daily, said that Modi “took the print media in confidence, which is a good gesture.” Patnaik told me that there was no direction from Modi to not publish negative news, before adding that even if Modi had wanted that from the editors, it was not problematic to do so. “I don’t think anything is wrong with that,” he said. “Anybody who is fighting a matter like this would want everybody to be on board. And that’s what he was trying to do.”Contribute
Yet, Susanta Mohanty, the working editor of The Samaja, the most circulated Odia daily, seemed to have a contrary understanding of the interaction with Modi. He told me that after the meeting on 24 March, Mohanty instructed his editorial team that only positive news should be reported. “Actually, when the country is now facing a crisis, the prime minister wanted support from the media,” he said. “No negativity. Only positive news to educate readers … he just said that no negative news should be published at this juncture.”
An editor of one of the biggest south Indian print-media organisations, who was among those who interacted with the prime minister, spoke to me on the condition of anonymity. The editor told me that he did not think there was anything wrong in Modi’s interactions with the owners and editors, and added that he personally saw the media’s role “in times of crisis” as that of “a public service,” which should not involve “undue criticism” of the government.
The editor said that he would not hesitate before running a critical piece as long as the story did not create any “panic” among people. According to him, it was necessary for Modi to take the media on board because the public was not serious about the spread of the novel coronavirus at first. “Lot of people across the country thought the virus had gone” after the “janata curfew”—or people’s curfew—which took place on 22 March, the editor said. “They came out clapping their hands and then went about doing their work, back to crowding.”
Though the editors suggested that Modi’s suggestions during the interaction were not binding on them, it appeared that a failure to abide by them could invite consequences. On 28 March, thousands of migrant workers from in and around Delhi flocked to the national capital’s Anand Vihar bus terminal after the Delhi chief minister, Arvind Kejriwal, announced that he had arranged for 200 buses to take workers to the neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh. That day, a news channel ran footage of the migrants jam-packed at the terminal. The same day, the editor told me, the ministry of information and broadcasting issued the channel a notice. “It just said, ‘Please avoid, be cautious,’” the editor told me.
I asked whether such notices put pressure on the organisation, and if it implied that running positive news stories on COVID-19 was not the bottom line of Modi’s interaction. The editor responded that he personally “did not get that impression.” But he was unable to explain why the government had served him a notice for showing visuals of migrants walking on foot. “I don’t know what they meant by ‘be cautious.’” He added that the government was providing buses only because the news channels were showing this footage. “If no channels show it, they won’t care about it at all,” he said. When I asked the editor if he was surprised that Modi reached out to the print media and not just the usual pro-government news channels such as Times Now or Republic, he said, “This is different, it’s not political.” The implication seemed to be that the prime minister recognised that print media was more credible than the usual pro-government channels, and that he only relied on the latter for political messaging.
None of the journalists were as brazen in supporting the prime minister as Avinash Chopra, the owner and editor of Punjab Kesari, one of the most widely circulated newspapers in Punjab, Haryana, Jammu and Kashmir, Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, and western Uttar Pradesh. Chopra told me that he did not think the central government was lacking in any manner in its fight against COVID-19, and therefore he would not publish any critical pieces. “They did very fine, I wouldn’t be criticising them,” he said. “I would rather criticise state governments. If we look at northern states, none of the MLAs are sitting in their constituency, they are not interacting with people.”
Chopra praised Modi for his response throughout the interview. “He was the only prime minister” who could save the country, the editor of Punjab Kesari said. “He knows that India is not well-equipped, there are not enough ventilators to make our population safe if they get sick. I think he wanted to be like everyone to be understanding his problem and his limitations. So, I congratulated him.” Chopra said that during a phone call with the prime minister after the lockdown announcement, he told Modi, “You did a wonderful thing.”
Chopra was floored by the fact that the prime minister folded his hands while announcing the lockdown and appealing to the nation to stay at home. “No prime minister in the world has ever folded his hands,” he said. “That was very, you know—eight times folding his hands.” Punjab Kesari’s editor was so touched by the gesture that the next day his newspaper carried four pictures of Modi with his hands folded. The story was carried on the front page across half the spread, with the headline, “Aapko bachane ke liye baar-baar haath jodhte dikhe Modi”—To protect you, Modi was seen folding his hands again and again.
Chopra told me that he has known Modi since the 1990s, when the current prime minister was “an incharge of several northern states” as a member ofthe Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, the Bharatiya Janata Party’s parent organisation. “He has been to our press a number of times when he was in the RSS and then in the BJP,” Chopra told me. Punjab Kesari’scoverage of COVID-19 included a piece titled, “Corona se ladane ke liye Modimantra, PM ne 3D video ke jariye diye ghar mein fit rehne ke tips”—Modi’s mantra to fight corona, PM gives tips to stay fit at home with a 3D video.
The other editors who joined Modi’s interaction included Gulab Kothari, the editor-in-chief of Rajasthan Patrika; Ramoji Rao, the owner of the Telugu daily Eenadu; Ananda Sankeshwar, the managing director and editor of the Kannada daily Vijayavani; and Vemuri Radhakrishna, the owner of Andhrajyothy. Like others, these editors, too, seemed grateful for the interaction, and published reports of the interaction with their photos the next day. Kothari wrote about the meeting on his blog and reproduced that blogpost on the front page of his newspaper. He noted that Modi had “inspired” the press with this interaction. Yet, going by the responses given by the editors, and their subsequent coverage of the COVID-19 pandemic, it appeared that the prime minister inspired most of them to abandon a basic tenet of journalism—to speak truth, not positivity, to power.
Kalyan, Thane: A day after The Wire reported on how doctors at the Kalyan Dombivli Municipal Corporation were forced to handle COVID-19 patients without any protective gear, the corporation has finally made protective gear available to them.
On March 27, this correspondent visited the two corporation-run hospitals — Rukmini Bai and Shastri Nagar. The visit led to a detailed report on the precarious conditions in which the doctors here were forced to work under. A day later, on March 28, the corporation provided a set of two protective kits each, including masks, gloves, overalls, and gowns to its staff working at the twin hospitals.
The protection gear, however, has been made available only at the two hospitals and the nearly 15 peripheral centres have been asked to continue their work without the gear. The personal protection equipment (PPE) provided includes gloves, masks, and a gown.
On March 27, The Wire’s report had quoted several doctors and other healthcare staff who had expressed their fear of getting infected because of a lack of basic protective gear. The corporation had been forcing doctors at the corporation hospitals to attend to patients only wearing a flimsy reusable cloth mask.
The twin cities — Kalyan and Dombivli — have eight people who have been confirmed to have been affected with COVID-19. Of them, six had walked into the two hospitals here before being referred to Kasturba Hospital in Mumbai. The doctors, ward boys and other medical staff at the two hospitals had attended to each of these patients without any protection.
It took fewer than 24 hours for the municipal corporation to make the protective gear available to the doctors. “They clearly had the stock available. On Saturday morning, the chief medical officer Dr. Ashwini Patil informed the doctors on duty that the protection gear had been kept stored in case the pandemic enters into stage 3. Reluctantly, the protective gear was made available to us,” he said. Patil has claimed that only 200 kits were available with the corporation.
Another doctor claimed that they have been forced to sign an agreement that they would make do with just one or two kits. “Since we had no choice, and are desperate to save ourselves, we have agreed,” a doctor told The Wire.
Most doctors that The Wire had spoken to had said that they were even willing to buy these gears on their own but weren’t able to find enough supply in the market.
The two hospitals alone with their peripheral units have been catering to a population of over 25 lakhs. These hospitals have forever faced a staff crunch and those on duty have complained of overburden and lack of basic facilities. In 2017, as many as nine doctors had mass resigned from their posts as the corporation was not making any efforts to ease their burden. “We were given a fake assurance and asked to return to work. Nothing changed,” a doctor at the hospital’s peripheral unit disclosed.
Any doctor raising her voice or seeking an explanation from the hospital authorities is being served a memo. A senior doctor at the center shared that at least two doctors were served a notice in the past two weeks since the pandemic broke out.
Similar tactics were used to stop the publication of this report too.
When this correspondent had approached the officials to get their version, she was told that she could be booked under the Epidemic Diseases Act. “Such stories can lead to panic. Action can be taken for publishing such news,” Dr. Sandeep Nimbalkar, a reproductive and child health (RCH) officer with the municipal corporation had warned.
While the corporation should have a minimum of 135 doctors, only 35 have been working here for close to a decade. Among them, several Ayurveda doctors have been taken on board, and they because of their lack of adequate qualifications, they do not get assigned duties at the outpatient department and casualty ward.
Why is the government consistently getting it so wrong in terms of implementing and enforcing India’s Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) law? The amendments that have been proposed most recently, will dismiss a majority of the country’s three million nonprofits from being recipients of CSR funds. The only entities now eligible for CSR funding will be Section 8 companies and notified government funds; trusts and registered societies seem to be entirely excluded.
Just last August, it was corporations that were bearing the brunt of the then latest amendments, which threatened imprisonment of senior corporate officers for non-compliance. The only thing that is certain when it comes to India’s CSR law is that in the six years of its existence, it has not worked the way it was meant to.
Since the enactment of Section 135 of the Companies Act in 2014, there have been two High Level Committee Reports (2015) (2019), one Company Law Committee Report (2016), and one Legal Sub-Committee Report (2018). There have also been seven General Circulars, five Notifications, four Gazette Notifications, three other Notifications, and a great many Lok and Rajya Sabha questions. All of these have attempted to clarify how the law ought to be implemented, what the intention behind it is, what sorts of mechanisms were to be created to facilitate compliance, and so on.
What is evident is that, over time, there has been a sharp shift in the regulatory approach towards a tighter, more stringent framework, the intention of which is to control—rather than facilitate—compliance. While the merit of such a move can be debated, it is more important to reflect on why and how this shift took place.
Did we opt for a stricter approach because the facilitative one wasn’t yielding results? Are we, as Indians, culturally predisposed to respond only when penalties loom? Or, did we simply not give the softer, more facilitative approach, its proper day in the sun?
By answering a series of questions in this article, I will attempt to demonstrate what has led to less than desirable compliance and consequent tightening up, resulting in a shift in the original intention of the law.1. What was the goal of the CSR law?
India’s CSR law was never meant to be restrictive or prescriptive, as can be seen in how it was structured: the first obligation of companies in Section 135 is to form a committee, the second to create a policy, and the third to spend a percentage of profits in accordance with that policy. The idea here was to engage, think through matters carefully, articulate intentions, and finally implement with proper checks and balances like regular monitoring and impact evaluation.
The purpose of the law went beyond funding; the intention was to:
Flexibility was also worked into the law. Rules 4(3) and 4(2) allow for companies to come together to take on large projects, or to work with implementing nonprofits in the absence of expertise. The driving force behind compliance was not punishment, but reputational damage.
2. In order to achieve its goal, what should the government have done?
Through the Ministry of Corporate Affairs (MCA) and its local arms, the government needed to:
But for all this to work, the government, communities, the media, and nonprofits needed to play the long game, to be patient. The government particularly needed to act as an encouraging parent intervening only when asked for advice.3. What actually happened?
The Planning Commission had created a subordinate office to the MCA in 2007—the Indian Institute of Corporate Affairs (IICA). In 2011, the National Foundation on CSR (NFCSR) was formed under the aegis of the IICA.
The NFCSR was initially set up to mainstream responsible business practices pursuant to the MCA and IICA having introduced the National Voluntary CSR Guidelines in 2009, and later to build a smart CSR ecosystem after the introduction of Section 135 of the Companies Act 2013. It was meant to:
In January 2018 (four years after the CSR law was introduced) the MCA launched a National CSR Portal containing everything you needed to know about CSR and corporate compliance.
Aside from issues on how the data has been presented—which was a relatively easy problem to fix—the portal however lacked an engaged audience.
Shortly thereafter, in August 2018, we began to hear murmurs of tightening up of the regulations. Show cause notices were issued to a number of companies and they were asked to ‘compound’ their CSR expenditure arrears and deposit these in government funds.
“The law has been amended so as to almost obstruct the flow of funds into much of the social sector and to redirect these resources into the hands of the government.”
The outcome of these show cause notices was unclear and unknown; what was clear however was that there was no legal basis for issuing a notice of this nature. Moreover, the word ‘compounding’ doesn’t appear anywhere in the CSR rules or any of the numerous notifications mentioned at the start of this article.
In August 2019, after a lull caused by the general elections, amendments to the CSR law were passed through the Parliament, and senior corporate executives were threatened with imprisonment over non-compliance with CSR. More recently, while the criminal penalty has been replaced with hefty fines, the law has been further amended so as to almost obstruct the flow of funds into much of the social sector as it exists today, and in fact, to redirect these resources into the hands of the government.
4. Why has there been less than desirable compliance?
The access to information about what companies were doing, how they were doing it, and the reasoning they provided for their lack of compliance, is ammunition in the hands of an activated civil society, media, and nonprofit community.
“Without transparency, there can be no compliance, particularly if it is predicated on reputational damage.”
Without this access, the law fell on its face. Even though a CSR portal was created, achieving a transparent system of governance requires nurturing and isn’t achievable by perfunctory oversight. Without transparency, there can be no compliance, particularly if it is predicated on reputational damage.
Companies began to realise that there really was no penalty for their lack of compliance. The law began to be interpreted as—“As long as we disclose our reasons for not spending, we don’t need to spend, and we can continue to underspend.” An ad hoc approach to CSR soon became the norm. Those that always intended to be philanthropic continued to be, and those that didn’t had no compelling reason to become so.
Budget 2020 has bad news for the social sector5. What has been done about the lack of compliance?
The law did not permit regulatory intervention1 unless a company failed to explain its non-compliance. Therefore, in the absence of reputational damage, compliance could not be mandated without several drastic amendments2 to the law, which were recently undertaken by the government.
The first of these is the narrowing down of the erstwhile ‘comply or explain’ concept to ‘comply, explain, and deposit unspent amounts into specific government fund’. CSR funds are being looked at through the lens of resource gap filling, for which taxation is a better instrument.
And in this shift lies the most crucial conflict. If the purpose of the law is to transform corporate culture and create innovative programmes to solve society’s problems, then why exclude the vast majority of the organisations that presently have the most experience doing just this?
“CSR funds are being looked at through the lens of resource gap filling, for which taxation is a better instrument.”
If the intention is to ‘clean up’ the nonprofit sector, there are many other ways of doing so, such as creating stronger regulatory systems. If CSR is not to be treated as a resource gap filling mechanism, which even the most recent High Level Committee report cautions against, then why is the government setting up a National CSR Fund under the new law to receive unspent CSR funds? It is difficult to conclude anything other than there has been a deliberate attempt to redirect resources into government hands.
The second is the introduction of a new concept—the ‘escrow account’, in which companies are required to deposit their unspent funds, which can then be spent within a period of three years. If at the end of this time, funds have not been allocated for a specific project, then unspent money goes to the government. The problem arises if the project runs into difficulty, or there are delays in absorption of funds. One of the key objectives of the CSR law was to allow companies to adapt to the dynamism of the social sector. The escrow account takes all of that away—you are only allowed to spend on projects you had originally planned for.
And finally, there is an almost benign looking sub-section—Amended Section 135 (8)—that gives the central government the authority to direct a company or class of companies in order to ensure compliance with Section 135. This, in essence, signs away a company’s right to decide what it can and cannot do with regard to CSR.6. What do the recent amendments mean for the future of the CSR law?
If the amendments to the CSR Rules as they stand today are notified, India’s CSR law will be transformed forever.
While there are a number of ‘good’ changes that have been made to the law that will keep companies on the right side of their obligations, we will not achieve long term cultural change in corporate India with this approach.
“We will have crossed the line from seeking to be a transformative regime to a draconian one.”
Corporations will not build healthy respectful relationships with communities and the environment. We will end up filling the gaps in government funding for public goods, the provision of which is the government’s responsibility. We will have crossed the line from seeking to be a transformative regime to a draconian one. And all the critics, who in 2014 said making ‘philanthropy’ mandatory is nothing but another form of taxation, will have been right.
It’s not too late however, to revisit our decisions and apply our mind to fixing a broken implementation system, correcting the anomalies, and letting the CSR ecosystem develop.
“One cannot expect justice from those who, on the verge of retirement, throng the corridors of power looking for post retiral sinecures”, Justice Deepak Gupta in Rojer Mathew Case (CB)
In a move that raises fresh questions about the debilitating nature of judicial independence, the Central Government on Monday nominated former Chief Justice of India Ranjan Gogoi – arguably the most controversial CJI of recent times – as a member of the Rajya Sabha within four months of his retirement on November 17 last year.
This is not the first time that a former CJI is becoming a member of Rajya Sabha, as ex-CJI Justice Ranganath Mishra was elected to the Upper House on Congress ticket in 1998 seven years after his retirement. Justice Baharul Islam had resigned as a Supreme Court judge in 1983 to contest elections to Rajya Sabha on Congress ticket, and became an RS member that year itself.
But the Centre nominating a former CJI as an RS member under Article 80(3) of the Constitution, soon after his retirement, is unprecedented.
The pitfalls of immediate post-retirement appointments given to judges are easily conceivable and widely discussed. Former Union Minister and Senior Advocate Arun Jaitley once bluntly stated that “pre-retirement judgments are influenced by a desire for a post-retirement job”.
“My suggestion is that for two years after retirement, there should be a gap (before the appointment), because otherwise, the government can directly or indirectly influence the courts and the dream to have an independent, impartial and fair judiciary in the country would never actualise,” Jaitley had said in the capacity of Leader of Opposition of Rajya Sabha in 2012.
Immediate Post-Retirement Appointment of Judges : Mutual Bonhomie between Executive And Judiciary?
But this word of caution, also echoed by several former CJIs like Justices R M Lodha, T S Thakur, Kapadia etc., has never been heeded to in actual practice, as can be seen from several appointments such as that of Justice R K Agrawal as NCDRC President and Justice A K Goel as NGT Chairperson . However in these cases, there was at least a defense of statutory mandate as the relevant laws required these posts to be occupied by retired judges (though this defense is no satisfactory explanation for granting immediate post-retirement benefit). What makes the appointment of Justice Gogoi so brazen is that there is no such statutory compulsion or expediency which necessitates his nomination to the Rajya Sabha within a short-span of his retirement.
CJI Gogoi : A Term Of Misses And Omissions
It is here the controversial tenure of CJI Gogoi comes to focus, during which the Apex Court, through its actions and inactions, protected and furthered the interests of the Executive on several instances. The nearly infructuous verdict in the CBI-Alok Verma case; the shaky clean chit given to Centre in the Rafale scam; the indefinite delaying of the hearing in the case challenging electoral bonds scheme; the steely reluctance shown in interrogating the government in the Kashmir habeas matters; the Ayodhya verdict with its highly questionable legal soundness – in these cases, the Supreme Court seemed to be in sync with the agenda of the State. Justice Gogoi played a major role in engineering the Assam-NRC fiasco, and he felt no conflict of interest in judicially overseeing the process, despite being personally invested in the matter. Even as the head of the SC Collegium, Justice Gogoi gave out the impression of playing to the tunes of the Centre, as indicated by the manner in which Justice Kureshi’s transfer and elevation was handled.
During the term of CJI Gogoi, we saw the Supreme Court looking the other way when citizens complained of violation of basic rights. We saw the executive getting away with its actions unquestioned on several instances (more detailed in this article “CJI Gogoi – A Term of Misses and Omissions”). Justice Gogoi demitted office as the pale shadow of the man who participated in the unprecedented judges’ press conference of January 2018, and who enthralled everyone in his famous Goenka memorial lecture with his exhortations to protect constitutional rights.
Press Conference, Goenka Lecture, Sealed Covers, Collegium Decisions And More.
An inescapable irony in this development is that Justice Gogoi had headed the Constitution Bench which delivered the judgment in the Rojer Mathew case, where the Court expressed concerns about the impact of post-retirement appointments on judicial independence. The Court in this case struck down the provision in Tribunal Rules which enabled re-appointment of Tribunal Members after retirement by observing that “the provision for reappointment would undermine the independence of the member who would presumably be constrained to decide matters in a manner that would ensure their reappointment”.
Justice Gogoi observed in the judgment that “the discretion accorded to the Central or State Government to reappoint members after retirement from one Tribunal to another discourages public faith in justice dispensation system which is akin to loss of one of the key limbs of the sovereign” and added that it “increases interference by the Executive jeopardising the independence of judiciary”.
Though these observations were made in the context of appointment of members of Tribunals, as a principle concerning judicial independence, they are relevant with respect to Constitutional Courts as well.
Also relevant are some observations made by Justice Deepak Gupta in his concurring judgment in the said case :
“There may be some posts which require retired judges to be appointed such as Lokpal, Lokayukta, Chairpersons of the Human Rights Commission, Chairman of the Law Commission of India, etc. But this should not become a matter of routine especially when the appointments are being made by the executive. If the administration makes appointments and judges, serving or newly retired judges, are under consideration for such posts then the independence of the judiciary is likely to be compromised. The public of this country still reposes great faith in the judiciary. That faith will be eroded in case it is felt that the appointments are made for extraneous reasons. Most judges live up to the expectations of the high standards of integrity and propriety expected from them but we cannot shut our eyes to the harsh reality that there are a few black sheep. One cannot expect justice from those who, on the verge of retirement, throng the corridors of power looking for post retiral sinecures“
In these circumstances, one cannot be faulted for wondering if the Rajya Sabha nomination is a ‘quid pro quo’ of sorts.
Questions about suitability
Apart from institutional concerns about judicial independence, the present appointment also raises questions regarding the suitability of the individual to the post.
It is well-etched in public memory that Justice Gogoi was alleged of sexually harassing a staff of SC, and that he had used the powers of his office to stall and bulldoze a proper probe into the matter.
Before the woman came out in public with sexual harassment allegations, she was terminated from service on flimsy grounds, in a manner so disproportionate and unjust.
Why Dismissal Of SC Staff Who Alleged Sexual Harassment By CJI Is Disproportionate?
Her husband and family members had also to face vindictive actions in the form of suspension from service and criminal cases.
When the woman’s allegations were reported by media in April, the first response of Justice Gogoi was to convene an urgent sitting on a Saturday and launch ad hominem attacks on the accuser, in her absence. CJI Gogoi characterized the allegation as an attempt to “deactivate judiciary”, and complained about being served a raw deal after several years of selfless service to judiciary.
“More after 20 years of selfless service. It is unbelievable …With a bank balance of 6,80,000 that is in my bank account. This is my total asset. When I started as a judge, I had much hope. On the verge of retirement I have 6 lakhs. This is the reward CJI gets after 20 years , a bank balance of 680,000”, he exclaimed during that extraordinary proceeding, which was curiously titled “In Re : Matter of Great Public Importance Touching Upon The Independence Of Judiciary Mentioned By Shri Tushar Mehta, Solicitor General of India” .
The zealous defence advanced for Justice Gogoi by the top law officers of the Centre – the Attorney General and the Solicitor General- should have been sufficient indication for observers regarding the mutual bonhomie between the judiciary and the executive.
Then emerged a host of counter-allegations against the woman that her complaint was a part of “larger conspiracy” against the CJI hatched by a gang of “fixers and disgruntled SC employees”. A special bench of the SC constituted a one-member commission of former SC judge Justice A K Patnaik to probe the allegations of larger conspiracy, after holding day to day hearing on urgent basis.
Meanwhile, the in-house panel of the SC, which conducted probe without any adherence to norms of transparency, absolved Justice Gogoi of the charges, for reasons we would never know. The woman had decided not to participate in the proceedings, questioning the procedure adopted by it.
What is surprising is a subsequent development, which happened after the retirement of Justice Gogoi. In a move that gives post-facto credibility to her complaint, and demolishes the base of “larger conspiracy” allegations made against her, the woman who raised the sexual harassment allegations was reinstated into SC service. Though Justice Patnaik commission submitted its report before SC in September last year, its contents are not made public, and no action has ensued on the same. The present passivity shown by the Court in this “Matter of Great Public Importance Touching Upon The Independence Of Judiciary” is highly surprising. These circumstances certainly shake the clean chit given to Justice Gogoi in the case.
The larger question of morality here is should a person with such a cloud over character be appointed to an eminent post in the House of Elders? Even though Article 80(3) does not make an express mention of ‘good character’ as a condition for nomination, it will be against the principles of constitutional morality and doctrine of constitutional implications to argue that such a requirement is not needed.
When former CJI P Sathasivam was appointed as Governor of Kerala in 2014 soon after his retirement, it had raised several eyebrows. But the degree of brazenness in Justice Gogoi’s appointment surpasses all previous cases. To say the least, the swift jump from one branch to another does not look graceful.
Before parting, it is pertinent to refer to an observation made by SC in the ‘master of roster case’ :
“The faith of the people is the bed-rock on which the edifice of judicial review and efficacy of the adjudication are founded. Erosion of credibility of the judiciary, in the public mind, for whatever reasons, is greatest threat to the independence of the judiciary”.
Bengaluru: When cases of coronavirus, the virus that has killed more than 3,000 people in China, were first reported in India, the AYUSH Ministry advised citizens to use homoeopathy to prevent infection.
A system of alternative medicine, homoeopathy courts deep popularity in India, so much so that many are known to believe that it’s an Indian system. According to the government, it’s the second most popular form of medicine in the country with as much as 10 per cent of the population relying on it.
It claims to treat diseases for which allopathy, or Western medicine, currently offers no cure — from diabetes and psoriasis to polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS).
Among followers, it is seen as a form of natural therapy, invoking a sense of Eastern mysticism with its promise of painless treatment.
However, homoeopathy is neither all-natural, nor Indian. It’s not even Eastern — it was created in 1796 by a German physician named Samuel Hahnemann, who reportedly coined the term “allopathy” as a pejorative for modern medicine.
One of the two basic tenets of the system is “like cures like” — that is, if something causes acidity, the same thing will also ease it.
The other is the law of minimum dosage — Taking a core ingredient and diluting it to such an extent that there isn’t even a single molecule of the original substance left.
Despite its popularity, the system remains controversial. Most health experts — from the World Health Organisation (WHO), to the US Department of Health and Human Services and Britain’s National Health Service — cite research and express scepticism. They discourage its use as an alternative to conventional medicine for life-threatening diseases, and see it as a harmless placebo at best and a purveyor of potentially lethal concoctions at worst.
Several countries like Britain and France do not allow government funding in the field, while Australia conducted a thorough review and declared it pseudoscience. Spain has proposed banning it for being dangerous.
Even so, there is no dearth of people who testify to its potential as a cure for a laundry list of conditions. In India, it’s the subject of a degree course that allows students to become registered practitioners and is overseen by a dedicated government department.
This contradiction is precisely the reason why the AYUSH Ministry’s coronavirus advisory seemed to set the cat among the pigeons, leading several people to question the “unproven advice” in the face of a health crisis. But backers of the system were equally vocal.
So, what does a layperson make of it?
Hahnemann, the homoeopathy creator, believed there were only three kinds of illnesses, syphilis, psychosis (or fig-wart disease), and the itch (where the skin itches), which he thought were symptomatic of other diseases like cancer, deafness and epilepsy.
This theory is contentious even within homoeopathic communities today.
Hahnemann’s basic premise rejects the theory that a disease or infection is through an outside cause and states that every illness is from within one’s own body.
The homoeopathic premise of “like cures like” derives from an experiment Hahnemann conducted where he reportedly ingested large amounts of cinchona bark (it contains quinine, used to treat malaria even today). Hahnemann is believed to have concluded that the symptoms produced by overconsumption mirrored those for malaria, and thus the bark could treat the disease.
While it’s often believed to be plant-based and natural, the core ingredients involved in homoeopathic remedies can be animal- or plant-based, mineral or synthetic, designated with Latin or Latin-sounding names.
The creation of remedies involves diluting the core ingredient to such an extent with water, alcohol or sugar that there isn’t even a single molecule of the original substance left.
Arsenic oxide, known as arsenicum album in homoeopathy, was what the AYUSH Ministry prescribed for coronavirus prevention. It has traditionally been used by homoeopaths as treatment for conditions such as digestive disorders, allergies and even anxiety and insomnia.
Other core ingredients include natrum muriaticum (sodium chloride or common salt), the poisonous belladonna flower, opium, and even products from a diseased person, like blood, urine, faeces, pus and mucus discharge.
Some preparations use “captured” ingredients such as x-rays and sunlight. “Sol” or sunlight is particularly common, and is “obtained” by exposing lactose (natural sugar occurring in milk) to the Sun.
To reduce the effects of radiation therapy, alcohol exposed to x-rays is used (which isn’t “natural”). Often, insoluble substances like granite are ground to pieces with lactose and then diluted. For example, it was reported last year that a British homoeopath, who also caters to the royal family, was offering a remedy devised from pieces of the Berlin Wall as a “cure” for depression and asthma.
The dilution takes place in a form of logarithmic scales (where each step is a multiple of the previous one). The two used most commonly are X potency, where each scale represents a dilution by a factor of 10, and centesimal (C), by a factor of 100.
A 2X (unit of potency) scale would mean that a substance is diluted one part in 9, and then one part of the resulting solution again diluted in 9 parts of the solvent.
For example, one millilitre of a core ingredient first diluted in 9 millilitres of water, and one part of the resulting solution again diluted in 9 millilitres of water.
So, a 10X potency would repeat the process 10 times, and a 15X, 15 times.
This is the same for C, but by a factor of 100: One part diluted with 99 parts.
Common potencies used are 30X or 300C, but beyond 12C or 24X, there is no presence of even a single molecule of the core substance.
Homoeopathy believes that the more diluted a remedy is, the more potent it is. A potency of 100X, for example, is considered to be higher than 10X — a fact chemists see as counterintuitive.
This is based on the controversial notion that water has “memory” and retains information about the substances it comes in contact with (and thus cures the body).
The final solution is poured over sugar tablets and left to evaporate.
Homoeopathic remedies are thus as good as harmless to the human body, but only when mixed correctly. There have been cases of arsenic poisoning in India because of poorly concocted homoeopathic remedies.
Homoeopathy was widely adopted in the 1800s as modern medicine was just evolving and included several painful practices. New diseases were infecting the human population, and medical science hadn’t caught up yet.
Homoeopathy held the promise of painless “treatment” and gained popularity.
Homoeopathic schools opened in the US and Europe throughout the late 19th century, spurred by ineffective treatments for outbreaks like cholera, which killed hundreds of thousands of people at the time.
Medical practitioners investigated the system for assessing efficacy, and this is thought to have encouraged rigour in modern medicine as well.
However, leading homoeopaths rapidly started abandoning the practice in the mid-20th century as modern medicine showed real results. The last homoeopathic school in the US was shut down in 1920.
Later, Nazi interest in homoeopathy led to its resurgence in public consciousness in the 1930s and 40s — but they abandoned the system quickly too.
It then gained favour with the New Age Movement, a Western phenomenon that spawned a variety of spiritual and religious beliefs in the 70s, and incorporated “natural” remedies for the mind, body, and spirit as their central tenet for health.
The movement has been known to adopt pseudoscientific beliefs such as astrology as a reaction against institutional establishment structures, and is credited with the rising popularity of homoeopathy today.
In India, homoeopathy was introduced in the early 19th century and was quickly adopted across the country, via Bengal.
The Calcutta Homoeopathic Medical College, the first Indian homoeopathic institute, was established in 1881.
In 1973, the Union government recognised homoeopathy as one of the national systems of medicine and set up the Central Council of Homoeopathy (CCH, now overseen by AYUSH Ministry) to regulate its education and practice.
Homoeopathic training involves a number of beliefs that run counter to well-established science. The system rejects germ theory, believing that all illnesses come from within. Future practitioners are reportedly taught that vaccines are poisonous and antibiotics a sham.
Right from the time it took hold, homoeopathy has been criticised by physicians. Evidence for its efficacy is said to have been established by Hahnemann by having patients simply write down their symptoms in detail after consumption of a remedy, a process that lacked rigour.
Scientific studies into homoeopathy have consistently shown it to be ineffective in treating illnesses or their symptoms — or occasionally just as effective as placebos.
Analyses of existing studies show that research suggesting positive results was either not conducted as rigorously as necessary or was backed by insufficient evidence.
A 2002 study conducted by a British researcher — a systematic review of other systematic reviews on homoeopathy — found that no study was able to determine positive outcomes. It concluded that the “best clinical evidence for homoeopathy available to date does not warrant positive recommendations for its use in clinical practice”.
Many other such studies have followed in the two decades since.
Most recently, an extensive 2015 study in Australia, conducted by the country’s top funding body for medical research, the National Health and Medical Research Council, assessed over 1,800 other studies and the results yet again weren’t in favour of homoeopathy.
The basic foundation of homoeopathy, that water holds the memory of substances it has been in contact with, has been widely discredited but remains controversial.
Following large-scale denunciations of homoeopathy by scientists, many medical bodies and health services have conducted independent research and issued advisories against the use of homoeopathy.
The health agencies of the US and Britain — the Department of Health and Human Services and Britain’s National Health Service, respectively — both state clearly on their websites that the purported effectiveness of homoeopathy is not backed by research. The WHO has discouraged its use for treatment of serious diseases, and called for quality control and regulation of homoeopathy to avoid lethal consequences.
National medical and health bodies in Russia, Australia, and Europe have warned against homoeopathy. Countries like Britain and France have forbidden reimbursement for homoeopathic treatments, while Spain is pushing for a ban on the entire system for being dangerous and unethical.
“Many countries have conducted comprehensive research and have ultimately decided that it doesn’t work,” said Amalorpavanathan Joseph, a vascular surgeon at Chennai’s Vijaya Hospital.
Speaking about the recent government advisory against coronavirus, he added, “Even if it was issued as a preventive measure to build up immunity and not a cure, it can’t work. Building up immunity takes years, it can’t happen in a matter of a few days.”
Supporters of homoeopathy claim it can cure almost anything, including conditions such as polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), psoriasis and diabetes that Western medicine is yet to find a cure for.
“Homoeopathy has medicines for everything, including thyroid, PCOD, psoriasis, diabetes, hair-fall, osteoarthritis, and even cancer,” said Josy Joy, a homoeopath practising at the Bengaluru-based Care N Cure Health Clinic.
According to Joy, his patients have seen improvements in all these illnesses without modern medicine.
Asked about the criticism directed at the medicine system, he said, “Western science looks for material content in homoeopathic medicines, but homoeopathy acts in a dynamic way. If the medicines are used, results can be seen.
“Our patients have seen their goiters dissolve through homoeopathy but allopathy has only surgery for most of these.”
Medical experts disagree.
“Any claims made should be backed by data and evidence. There has been no documented evidence that homoeopathy works and can cure people of illnesses,” said Joseph of Chennai’s Vijaya Hospital.
“If there’s evidence that homoeopathy works, doctors would be the first to adopt it. We want our patients to be cured and healthy after all.”
Sumaiya Shaikh, a Sweden-based neuroscientist who serves as science editor of the fact-checking portal Alt News, has done extensive research on homoeopathy and academic homeopathic publications as a part of her reportage.
“The studies (that prove homoeopathy to be effective) have faulty statistics at the outset,” she said.
“A mechanical explanation of the drug dynamics is never attempted in the discussion, even as a hypothesis, as the authors never know how exactly they think the drug is working. Often the conclusions are far-fetched in the abstract but when the study is carefully examined, the data doesn’t reflect the assertion of the conclusions,” Shaikh added.
Additionally, critics claim, processes that induce scientific rigour, such as blinding, are rarely used. Blinding is when the patient doesn’t know if they’re being given a homoeopathic medicine or an allopathic one. A similar system is double-blinding, when doctors themselves don’t know either.
Such systems are important to establish the effectiveness of a treatment without bias.
Shaikh explained how ‘citation value’ of research — a measure of credibility — is enhanced by the authors or other homoeopaths by repeatedly citing faulty studies that discard other variables.
Backers, however, are quick to reject the argument about the lack of credible research, saying it was consequence of the West’s indifference towards the alternative medicine system.
“The accessibility of homoeopathic system is very limited in the Western world and did not receive much attention in development as compared to allopathy,” said Dr Anil Khurana, director general at the Central Council For Research in Homoeopathy, an institute under the AYUSH Ministry.
“Because of the low cost of medicines, it did not get investment from sponsors either. Even governments in Western countries did not invest funds in alternative medicine, including homoeopathy,” he added. “Their support towards allopathy has prevented them from investing in further research and studies to prove the efficacy of homoeopathy.”
“However, there are countries like Brazil, Cuba and Mexico where the government supports this system of medicine… The therapy has started growing in the US, where seven states have allowed legal practice of homoeopathy. In Europe, acceptance is at an all-time high in most countries, including Italy, Germany, France and Switzerland.”
While as much as 60 per cent of the French population reportedly uses homoeopathy, come 2021, the government will end public support for medicines under the system. In Switzerland, meanwhile, homoeopathy has been given the same status as conventional medicine.
According to Khurana, students seeking training in homoeopathy are subjected to a rigorous 5.5-year curriculum, which includes a year-long internship and “is equivalent to MBBS where lessons don’t only deal with homoeopathy but also other subjects, as happens at allopathic medical colleges”.
“India has the largest infrastructure of homoeopathy because of increased demand from the public who have experienced the benefits of homoeopathy,” he said.
There are nearly 3 lakh registered homoeopaths in India today. An estimated 32,000 students enrol each year in AYUSH colleges, of which over 13,000 students opt for homoeopathy.
But this curriculum has a potentially dark underbelly.
“Homoeopathy degrees are an easy gateway into medical practice for students who didn’t obtain good enough scores to enter an MBBS programme,” said Shantanu Abhyankar, a trained homoeopath who switched to modern medicine after “being convinced that homeopathy is humbug”.
Abhyankar himself did the same — entered a homeopathy course as he couldn’t score well enough for MBBS.
But during the course of his training, he realised that they were just taught theory, and research papers published in the field offered no proof that homoeopathy worked.
“Homoeopaths are legitimised by the prefix ‘Dr’ against their name, and thus set up a practice,” he said.
Abhyankar eventually went back and obtained an MBBS degree, and has been a practising gynaecologist for 20 years now.
There are many reasons why critics believe homoeopathy seems to work for people.
Primary among these is called “regression to the mean”.
Nearly every illness has a natural growth curve before it tapers and dies (or kills). Typically, the moment illness sets in, patients go to doctors. Antibiotics or other modern drugs are prescribed — and might not always work. A homoeopath then prescribes a long course of remedies. So, just as the patient consumes them, the disease in its natural course starts to decline, and eventually the patient is cured.
The regression to the mean has been cited as a factor behind faulty results in placebo experiments on multiple occasions. This is also believed to be the reason why many patients who have survived dangerous illnesses like cancer report feeling better when they follow up medical treatment with a trip to the homoeopath.
“We have treated many cancer patients who have suffered from all kinds of cancer such as lung cancer and breast cancer,” said homoeopath Joy.
“Homoeopathy prolongs life. With chemotherapy, the problem is that there is increased chances of cancer recurrence [there is no proof for this claim], but people still always go to chemotherapy and then come to homoeopathy. We have successfully avoided recurrence for many kinds of cancers.”
“Different patients have different needs, so we use different remedies made of arsenic, belladonna etc.,” he added.
He did, however, concede that he hadn’t seen cancer patients who came to homoeopathy directly before chemotherapy.
A similar effect as regression to the mean is also seen in unassisted natural healing, where the body’s system builds up immunity over time to fight off an illness, and this often coincides with a homoeopathic course.
It is also possible that the patient feels better on account of a completely different aspect of their life that is inducing a pharmacological change in the body and treating the illness, such as a new meditation practice.
Patients also often use homoeopathy as a complementary treatment to a medicine course.
There is also the therapeutic effect of physician consultation. A homeopathic consultation could typically last for two hours, and a 2010 study published in the peer-reviewed British journal Rheumatology attributed to clinical benefits in homoeopathy patients could be attributed to the consultations.
Homoeopathy is also considered a placebo — it works because the people who take it think it does. But this requires strong belief and doesn’t hold true for all consumers. The placebo effect is a subject of active research, especially in light of the knowledge that patients respond even when they’re aware they might have been given a placebo.
But placebo effects are mostly known to work for symptoms of illnesses and pain management, not the actual disease. For a cancerous tumour, for example, someone under the placebo effect can feel less pain, but the tumour still eats away at the body.
Khurana, however, said it was a myth that homoeopathy worked as a placebo.
“The top research institutes of India for modern medicine, including AIIMS, School of Tropical Medicine, Kolkata, and Bose Institute, Kolkata and others have conducted pre-clinical trials (those preceding clinical trials on humans) to dispel the myth that these medicines are mere placebo,” he said.
“Such trials have been adequately documented to validate the claims. The studies have been published in international peer-reviewed journals.”
Some of the studies, however, seem to say nothing about the efficacy of homeopathy. Instead, a study by West Bengal researchers, including from Bose Institute, spoke about “vibrational and electric properties” of the medicines.
ThePrint reached the heads of AIIMS and the Indian Council for Medical Research (ICMR) for comment but they did not respond.
“Homoeopathy treats symptoms while modern medicine treats causes,” said Abhyankar. “Modern medicine can even predict and prevent (a disease). But homoeopathy can only treat symptoms after they manifest.”
Homoeopathic remedies might seem like a harmless placebo, but they cause significant indirect harm, said Edzard Ernst, a German academic physician who is considered an authority on complementary and alternative medicine (CAM).
“If a severely ill person is treated with ineffective homoeopathy and thus forfeits effective treatments, her illness will not be adequately treated and thus (she will be caused) unnecessary suffering,” he added. “If a homoeopath advises a patient against vaccinations — as many homoeopaths do — he endangers public health. If a homoeopath charges for useless treatments, he causes harm to his patient’s finances.”
Homoeopaths, however, fulfil a key role in India’s healthcare pyramid — informal community care.
“We have nurses, super speciality nurses, ward officers, doctors, but very few physiotherapists or trained counsellors,” said Abhyankar. “Because they (homoeopaths) are considered doctors, they often end up fulfilling this need.”
Under the AYUSH Ministry, homoeopathy is the second most highly funded system of medicine after ayurveda, but Ernst said it didn’t warrant such attention.
“Homoeopathy is both biologically implausible and, according to the best available evidence, not clinically effective. Therefore, funding research into homoeopathy should not be on the agenda of reputable funding organisations, let alone governments,” he added.
“Research funds are notoriously scarce. Therefore, governments and other funding bodies have an ethical, moral and legal duty to spend them on projects with a high prior probability of generating a productive result,” he said.
“Alternative medicine should be open to scrutiny and peer review by everyone and should be subjected to the same principles of research as evidence-based medicine,” added Shaikh. “By the sheer exclusivity and inability to bite bitter bullets, alternative medicine has become what it has become. There could be immense value in finding mechanisms and biochemical pathways at which the anti-inflammatory herbs are targeted but the research is always focused on quick translation and marketing before due research, as the belief takes over its evidence.”
From rural Rajasthan, a report emerges. A mother wants her young daughters to be operated for intrauterine devices before the harvest season begins, in order to prevent unwanted pregnancies for her daughters because she knew that the landlords will rape them. Journalist Soni Sangwan, in an interview, points out how many rape cases in rural areas fail to grab the media’s attention and how gender-based violence (GBV) is so helplessly normalised in our society.
Owing to the patriarchal mindset of our society, around 99% of rape cases in India go unreported. Besides the underreporting of GBV cases, there is a reluctance from the police to register cases of sexual violence, and additionally, the low conviction rates coupled with high pendency rates makes accessing justice even more difficult for survivors of gender-based violence. On top of that, the way it is reported in the media further aggravates the situation.
After the Nirbhaya case, the reporting of rape cases in media saw a sharp spike, according to a report by Joana Jolly. However, amongst other things, it also points out that there is a huge rural-urban bias in reporting cases especially sexual abuse and rape cases. Considering that 65.97% of people in India live in rural areas and according to a report in Times of India, over 80% of the rape cases in High court and close to 75% of rape cases in Supreme Court come from rural areas. Yet, there is a huge gap in reporting these cases in the media. According to research done by Niharika Pandit and Amanda Gilbert, 65% of English and 67.2% of Hindi news articles that mentioned GBV were based in an urban setting. This is a disturbing trend that needs to be taken seriously.
Jolly in her report highlights one important reason behind not covering rape stories from rural areas and of people belonging to the marginalized community. A reporter in the interview said that media houses prefer reporting stories of “People like us” – victims/perpetrators who are upper or middle class, can speak English and resemble a well-to-do lifestyle.
MEDIA HOUSES ARE A REFLECTION OF OUR SOCIETY AND THEY RECIPROCATE THE SAME SOCIAL DYNAMICS. THEIR URBAN BIAS EXCLUDES PEOPLE FROM THE RURAL AREAS AND GIVES A LOWER PRIORITY TO THE INCIDENTS INVOLVING THEM.
A detailed report from Oxfam and Newslaundry called, “Who Tells Our Stories Matters: Representation of Marginalised Caste Groups in Indian Newsrooms”, studies the caste composition of the media houses. According to the report, “Nearly 92% of the newsroom leadership positions across the English newspapers selected for this study – The Economic Times, Hindustan Times, The Hindu, The Indian Express, The Telegraph, The Times of India – were held by upper caste individuals, with no representation for the Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, OBCs, or religious minorities. Just a 10th of the writers in the top decile by the number of articles published belonged to the Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, and OBCs.”
Therefore, only the reports that resonate with the staff and the readers are given attention. Hence, it is all but a game of numbers.
It is important to analyse why certain cases grab the attention of the media and its consumers more than others. For example in the Nirbhaya case, when the reports first came out, it was pointed out that she was a medical student, she went out to watch an English movie in a fairly well-to-do neighbourhood. She also wasn’t doing anything overtly “bad” like drinking, wearing short clothes, or being out too late at night, or engaging in sex work – all criteria that would spark victim-blaming instead of an outpouring of support. The criteria of the ‘good-victim’ from a well-to-do, probably an upper-middle-class background, were fulfilled. Similarly, the rape and murder case of a vet in Hyderabad in 2019 fulfilled the criteria of ‘People like us’ and the ‘good victim’ and was then seen as a ‘Nirbhaya’ like case that gained massive attention of media, which also converted into public outrage.
This is a sad commentary on the way the media works. The media is considered as the ‘fourth pillar of democracy’ whose work is to hold the other three (legislature, judiciary, and executive) accountable and to communicate and advocate the issues of citizens. Hence we tend to view the media as an institution that will portray the truth objectively. But, the fact is that the media houses are a reflection of our society as well. Hence, they too reciprocate the same social dynamics in the office. Their urban bias tends to exclude people from the marginalized community and gives a lower priority to the incidents involving them.
Apart from rape being a social epidemic in itself, it is made worse by the way it is reported and by whom it is reported.
The issue with reporting rape is that we view it as an isolated crime. When we do this, we fail to place rape in a social context and hence, fail to acknowledge the social, political and economic factors leading to the horrific incident. Another issue is that despite rapes being more common in rural areas, the media fails to report them. By denying their stories a proper space in the news, they are failing to do their duty. Moreover, they promote a dangerous culture of silence that makes the issues faced by women in rural areas almost invisible.
Women in rural areas are prone to more violence and the systemic lack of resources that could help them in the case of GBV worsens their condition. With the deep-rooted misogyny and patriarchal norms, women in rural areas face harassment and abuse on a daily basis. Also because of poor education and lack of information and support, the abuse has become a part of their lives. On top of that, if the mainstream media keeps up this urban bias, this problem seems to be never-ending. With a crisis so bad, we can’t afford news to be limited to certain locations.
In her book called ‘No Country for Women’, Priyanka Dubey has documented the rape cases in India that remain largely undocumented. She also reiterates the issue that the media has a huge blindspot for the cases in rural India. In 2014, two teenage girls in the Badaun district of U.P. were raped, mutilated and left hanging on the tree. This was reported in the media but, the case failed to reach the consciousness of the masses. It didn’t receive the same public outrage or attention as the Nirbhaya case. Even the main accused were acquitted. The reason? The girls belonged to the Dalit community in a rural part of the U.P and hence failed to strike the same chord with the masses and the media.
While researching for this article, I have gone through various reports and rape cases and they have left me nothing short of horrified. The sheer brutality of the cases, the irresponsibility (and sometimes compliance with the accusers) of the state institutions and the urban bias and insensitivity of media while reporting cases of gender-based violence paints a very bleak picture of the kind of society we live in.
BY DENYING RURAL STORIES A PROPER SPACE IN THE NEWS, THEY ARE FAILING TO DO THEIR DUTY. MOREOVER, THEY PROMOTE A DANGEROUS CULTURE OF SILENCE THAT MAKES THE ISSUES FACED BY WOMEN IN RURAL AREAS ALMOST INVISIBLE.
However, change is coming slowly. Firstly, the emergence of local rural-centric platforms such as Khabar Lahariya and Gaon Connection has provided alternatives for the mainstream media that are guided by profit-making and political and social influences. The stories that fail to attract the attention of mainstream media are reported by these channels. Also, these platforms cater to the local audience and have a better connection since they belong to the same community.
Secondly, there is a growing consciousness among the media houses about reporting cases of GBV. With the increase in the use of digital media platforms, people are also becoming conscious and holding the media accountable. There is also better access to information and a wider connect to the audience.
However, one cannot take away the accountability of the mainstream media. It is time that the media houses introspect, recognise their urban bias, and start becoming more inclusive and diverse. It is also imperative that the journalists are taught about ethical and sensitive journalism especially in reporting the cases of sexual assault and rape to usher in a more sensitive environment.
Thirty-eight-year-old Kokeni Posanna of Jaina Village of Jagtial District in Telangana, went to the United Arab Emirates in 2018 to work as a cleaner. He was an agricultural labourer in debt, and a job in Dubai appeared as a way out of the debt and poverty back home.
For the next one year and ten months, Posanna cleaned swimming pools and worked at landscaping gardens. His earnings were inconsistent; mostly, the salary never came on time, and on some months, it never came. The highest he could manage to send home to his wife and two children was a sum of Rs 16,000 during a month of his stay.
Posanna was brought back to India this year in January with his right side paralysed. The long hours working under the desert sun took its toll on him. “He got a fever once, and had to resume duty before he could recover. He had no insurance nor access to a hospital, and his health got worse,” says Ganaga Jala, his wife.
The migrant worker had gone to the UAE on a tourist visa and was working with a Dubai based firm illegally, by converting the toourist visa to employment visa. He had no access to healthcare in the UAE nor was he protected under India’s mandatory insurance scheme for all migrant workers, Pravasi Bharatiya Bima Yojana (PBBY). Officials with the Ministry of External Affairs say unlisted companies hire such workers on tourist visas through recruiting agents, to save money.
There are thousands like Posanna across the country who have been unable to avail PBBY as they are recruited by agents who send them abroad on tourist visas, and not legal employment visas. The workers thus work illegally and are not insured. The agents also don’t switch them from tourist visas to a proper work visa, and the Government of India (GoI) either remains in the dark, or ignores the issue wilfully.
Migrants like Posanna who do not have a formal education require an emigration clearance to move abroad for work. The emigration clearance is given by the Protector of Emigrants (PoE) office that handles the e-Migrate system. They are also tasked with issuing the licences for recruiting agents.
In the year 2019, among the five southern states, recruiting agents from Tamil Nadu sent 27,230 persons through the emigrant system. Kerala stands second with 18,577 persons, while agents in Andhra Pradesh sent 14,971 persons, Telangana sent 13,186 persons and Karnataka 5,198 persons. Those who go abroad on a tourist visa for work are not counted, said an official with the PoE office in Hyderabad.
As of February 4, 2020, the GoI has given licences to 1,451 recruiting agents across the country. However, 25% of these firms have not shown any record of their monthly returns to the Ministry of External Affairs in the last one year. Under the The Emigration Act, 1983, they are supposed to submit periodical reports.
Many Indians going to the Gulf don’t get recorded in India’s emigrant system. Agents send them on tourist visas and promise that they would be given an employment visa within a few months of their visit. Many like Kokeni Posanna never end up getting employment visas, and continue to work on extended tourist visas. Many others whose employers do manage to get them an employment visa prefer to not fly to India and back for stamping the visa.
Many migrant workers on tourist visa go up the UAE-Oman border town of Hatta, make an exit to Oman and re-enter UAE with a fresh employment visa. Others go to the island of Kish and re-stamp visas on their passports. “The stamping on passport is done by the UAE, that data is not shared with the Indian government. There are thousands who are missing out on the insurance safety net like this,” adds Bheem.
In 2019, the Indian government came up with the Draft Emigration Bill meant to provide a regulatory system to govern overseas employment of Indian nationals. The Bill hoped to make it mandatory for both ECR (Emigration Clearance Required) and ECNR (Emigration Clearance Not Required) category of Indians travelling abroad to register with the emigrant system. At present, Emigration Clearance is required for those who do not have a Class 10 certificate; those who have studied beyond Class 10 that do not require an emigration clearance and are thus classified under ECNR category.
“But there was resistance from those in the ECNR (Emigration Check Not Required) category,” says Rejimon Kuttappan, a journalist who writes on migrant rights. There are some 18 countries where ECNR is presently required, including six Gulf countries where a majority of the job seekers flock to. “But in a state like Kerala, almost everyone will have a Class 10 certificate and thus will be categorised under ECNR and so it’s not mandatory for them to go through the emigration system. The Bill trying to make it mandatory came up in the previous government’s last Parliament session, but lapsed,” he explains. If people under both ECR and ECNR categories are made to register with the emigration system, it gives clarity to the GoI on how many Indians are actually going abroad for work.
Rejimon says that companies based in the Gulf hire people through visitor visas as they can pay these workers less, violate labour norms by not paying for life or medical insurance, gratuity or even provide a human resource department to register grievances. “These days, even engineers are going on driver visas and continue to work at sites. If they meet with an accident, the police ask why a person on a driver visa is working as an engineer. The engineer then gets into trouble and the Indian embassy can’t do much. Even skilled workers are taking up short projects in the Gulf, but this is being done at great personal risk,” says Rejimon.
The trend continues as it’s easier to get a visit visa than an employment visa. “To get a proper employment visa, the Gulf based company should approach Indian embassy and show their credentials to hire an Indian through the eMigrate system. This is a ‘tedious’ process for them. So, they don’t want to do that,” he adds.
“There is an understanding between two countries when someone seeks employment,” says an official with the External Affairs Ministry. “There are preconditions that companies listed with the Government of India have to meet, such as people will be paid salaries above a fixed rate, there are rules about working hours and medical insurance, to name a few. These are not restrictions, but they are rules put in place to ensure the safety of the migrant. However, this increases the cost for the companies, and therefore many prefer to go through recruiting agents and hire workers on a tourist visa and don’t provide them with anything,” the officer says, adding that it’s not mandatory for companies to hire Indians only through the emigrant system.
Information sourced through Right to Information from the Ministry of External Affairs reveals that the number of firms not showing returns have also gone up annually. Out of 1,451 registered recruiting agents, as many as 416 firms have not shown records in 2019.
“These firms are doing business but not on record, it’s off the record. How else are they still paying office rent, bills and staff salary and renewing licenses worth lakhs?” asks Bheem Reddy Mandha, President of Emigrants Welfare Forum.
Recruiting agents have to pay Rs 25,000 for a registration certificate valid for five years to the PoE and provide a bank deposit guarantee of Rs 50 lakh.For small agencies with 100 persons deployment capacity Rs 8 lakh.
MEA officials are aware that registered recruiting agents subvert the emigrant system, but only go after unregistered recruiting agents, say activists. According to the emigrant website, the PoE in Telangana has recorded only 15 unregistered agents operating in the state with Tamil Nadu recording 22, Andhra Pradesh 14, Kerala 24, and Karnataka 13 unregistered recruiting agents.
But what about registered recruiting agents like the one who got Posanna recruited on a tourist visa to Dubai? The agent is known to the family and was someone the family trusted. The agent who has since passed away, used to report to another agent who had ties to other similar agencies functioning out of Hyderabad, says Ganaga.
Bheem alleges that these registered recruiting agents are working as sub-agents for big agents in Mumbai, Hyderabad and their business is recorded in the licences of big players. “The small agents sitting in a rural area cannot deal with foreign employers, but they keep a licence so as to not attract trouble from the police. All the recruiting is done purely based on commissions,” alleges Bheem. He points to the Immigration Act under which no agent can appoint sub-agents. “No middlemen are allowed, even if they are licence holders,” he adds.
Had Posanna gone through the emigration system, he could have availed the PBBY scheme, a mandatory insurance scheme for those who have an emigration check for overseas employment. The scheme was launched in 2003 and last amended in 2017, it provides an insurance cover of Rs 10 lakh in case of accidental death or permanent disability with very low premiums.
The scheme also has global medical insurance coverage of up to Rs 1 lakh (up to Rs 50,000 per hospitalisation) irrespective of employer and location. The scheme also has a repatriation cover for medically unfit or premature termination, with a one-way economy class air ticket or reimbursement. Even legal expenses on litigation apart from other benefits are part of the scheme.
Medical insurance under PBBY is provided only to those who find employment through the e-Migrate system. Between April 2014 to December 2018 medical insurance companies under the PBBY have settled just 812 claims in tune of Rs 63.3 crore whereas the insurance firms have collected Rs 80 crore as premium.
Indian migrant workers like Posanna when opting for a tourist visa become ineligible for medical benefits under the scheme. The recruiting agents do not inform them of the benefits either. The PoE office in Hyderabad says they provide advice only to those who approach their office.
Posanna was made aware of PBBY only after he returned back to India spending for his own flight ticket which would otherwise have been free under PBBY.
He managed to meet initial expenses while at UAE with help from fellow migrant workers. However, upon coming back, his hospital bills touched Rs 1 lakh in just four days. The PBBY scheme would have covered that as well. The family, however, managed, thanks to the Telangana government’s Arogya Shree health insurance scheme for below poverty line families. The family today is in a worse state than before Posanna left for Dubai for work and now struggles to make ends meet.
On January 15, Bharatiya Janata Party social media head Amit Malviya tweeted a video of a group of men talking about the Shaheen Bagh protesters. They alleged that women participating in the sit-in protest are being paid to demonstrate against the Citizenship Amendment Act and the proposed National Register of Citizens. A man in the video further claimed that the protest was “sponsored” by the Congress party. Malviya reiterated the claim in his tweet.
Times Now broadcast the video tweeted by Malviya with the disclaimer that it “does not vouch for the authenticity of the video”. In its broadcast, Times Now’s Megha Prasad said, “It looks like a sting operation, this particular video. It’s of course been shot with a hidden camera and it tries to show that people who are there at Shaheen Bagh are perhaps being paid for doing this sit-in dharna but again I am saying it is not for us to either corroborate or confirm any of this. We do not even know from where the BJP has got this video. Is it their own video, is it their own sting, have they sourced it from anyone?”.
Prasad continued, “Amit Malviya has not given the credit to anybody. So one is just assuming at this stage, perhaps, they have been able to manage something like this.”
Primetime debates on India Today and Republic TV also focused on Malviya’s video. Republic TV asked “Is Shaheen Bagh a paid protest?” and ran the hashtag #ProtestOnHire.
My Nation, a portal that has links to the BJP’s Rajya Sabha MP Rajeev Chandrashekar, published a report on the unverified video and asserted, “Now, you can also add that fact that they are being bribed to take part in the protests.”
OpIndia, another Right-wing propaganda website, picked up the story too and said: “Even though OpIndia could not verify the authenticity of the video, it certainly raises doubts about the credibility of the organized Shaheen Bagh protests.”
Several other prominent Right-wing handles like BJP Gujarat MLA Harsh Sanghvi, BJP Mahila Morcha’s Priti Gandhi, former Shiv Sena member Ramesh Solanki, BJP Delhi IT cell head Punit Agarwal, and filmmaker Ashoke Pandit amplified the video with identical claims.
We watched the video frame-by-frame. In one frame, a mobile number printed on one of the posters on the wall is visible. The number is “9312484044”.
A Google search for this number revealed that it belongs to a shop named “Kusmi Telecom Center.” The image of the shop on Google Maps corroborates with details in the video: The wall is the same colour. The wall in the video also looks like it’s in a mobile shop, based on the data plan posters seen in the background.
The “exposé” on the citizenship law protests was, in fact, shot eight kilometres away from Shaheen Bagh in South Delhi’s Pul Prahladpur. The area falls under the Tughlakabad constituency. The video was made at shop number 134, called Kusmi Telecom, located at F-block in Mittal colony — just a few minutes’ walk from the Tughlakabad metro station.
The Tughlakabad urban area sits on the hillocks of South Delhi, so its streets slope randomly. The main commercial street in Mittal Colony’s F-block ends at an uphill intersection. Kusmi Telecom is located at this junction.
Ashwani Kumar, 38, runs the shop with his sectagenarian father. He sells data plans, print-outs, chips, eggs and cigarettes. The shop, with big red advertisements for Airtel and Vodafone, does not stretch beyond 8-10 square feet. Its walls are painted teal, and a wall-clock featuring BJP leaders, prominently Narendra Modi, faces the customer.
Kumar and his father vehemently denied that the video was shot in their shop — until four days later when he admitted it had been. While he denied shooting it himself, too many things don’t add up.
Easing Kumar into conversation, we discussed election issues.
“To be honest, the leaders do not care much about the elders and the widows here, be it MLA or MP,” Kumar said. “All of them come once every five years, asking for votes. I take people to their leaders and get their work done. I work for the people.”
Kumar’s father, with thick-rimmed glasses and a winter cap, agreed.
Ashwani Kumar likes to call himself a “karyakarta”, or a worker. Given the BJP paraphernalia in his shop, can he be described as a “BJP worker”? “Only ‘worker’ will do,” he grinned, “although I’ve belonged to the BJP since the beginning.”
Several stacks of documents lay on the shelves of his shop — paperwork of people that Kumar helps. He took them out and put them on the table. “Look, this person did not get their pension,” he pointed to a piece of paper. Kumar said both the AAP MLA and BJP MP are approachable representatives. When you go to them with problems, as Kumar does, “they treat you well and listen to you”.
Discussing the CAA and the NRC, both father and son support it. “I don’t understand why there’s so much protest about it,” said the father. The son added: “If the government had made a law, it must be right. Those people are educated. They must be thinking about the country.”
And what about the people who are protesting against the law? “There are all kinds of people. There was firing at Jamia today, for instance,” Kumar said, his implication being it was a protester who fired — which is untrue. “The Muslims living here [Mittal Colony] are also fine. They are peace-loving.”
His father interjected: “There are 125 crore people, who knows what kind of people are getting into this country?”
When I brought up the “exposé” on Shaheen Bagh — that the protest is “sponsored” and women were being paid to protest — Kumar said, “It is wrong to say such things about people. It is all hearsay, and people just like to spread it further. It can also be a lie.”
From the first 20 minutes of conversation, certain things are clear.
First, the “exposé” spread by the BJP was shot at this shop. The visuals in the video gel perfectly with the interiors: the walls, the eggs, the numbers, etc.
Second, there were three voices in that video: the accuser, visible on camera, and two others, who couldn’t be seen. To my mind, one of the voices sounds exactly like Kumar’s father — it’s distinctly hoarse and crusty. In fact, it sounds like it’s Kumar’s father who says “sab Congress ka khel hai” in the video. This was later quoted in Amit Malviya’s tweet and repeated on Times Now.
Similarly, Kumar’s voice, with its accent and flair, fits with the voice in the video that emanates from directly behind the camera.
Third, the video is clearly shot on a phone, not a sting camera. Its original frame (see here) is a typical phone-sized frame that was shrunk when Malviya shared it online.
Adding these up, could it be that Ashwani Kumar shot the video himself?
When asked if the video was shot in his shop, Kumar got antsy and denied it vehemently. “Two people can go to any shop, talk nonsense, shoot a video and make it viral. It is not a difficult thing to do.”
So was that video shot at your shop? “No,” he asserted.
The conversation might have looped from election issues to Shaheen Bagh, but Kumar was now fully aware that we’re investigating the BJP video. He turned defensive, claiming he has no affiliation to any political party. He began cursing and grabbed my notebook, striking off the bit where I had written “BJP karyakarta” under his name. He then ripped out the pages with my notes.
As I smoked a cigarette that I’d bought from his own store, Kumar even shot a video of me(Newslaundry reporter), saying, “Look, this man is smoking at my shop without my permission.”
He then said: “Wherever that video might have been shot, you should know one thing. That boy in it did not know anything. He was a kid. He couldn’t tell his elbow from his ass. And by the way, I have nothing to do with the BJP, the AAP or the Congress.” The “boy” refers to the person in the “sting” video who says Shaheen Bagh’s women are being paid to protest.
Till the last minute of our meeting, Kumar remained incensed and refused to concede that the video was shot at his shop. Finally, four days later, he told me over the phone: “The video was indeed shot at my shop,” he said, “but it was another person who shot it covertly from outside. And what was said in it is unreliable.”
It is hard to believe Ashwani’s caveat — that the video was shot from outside the shop by an outsider. In the video, the accuser, who is standing outside and across the desk, looks inside while addressing the comments of the person behind the camera.
Additionally, at 1:24 in the video, the camera zooms out and it becomes clear that the person shooting the video is inside the shop. A person standing outside would have to stretch his hands all the way to the inside to shoot that frame. Such gymnastics would hardly go unnoticed, and would be far from being “covert”, which Kumar claimed it was. When I posed this to him, he said his father might not have noticed it because he is an “elder”.
About 50 metres away from Ashwani Kumar’s shop, the neighbourhood was decorated with BJP flags. A particularly large party flag was hoisted on the terrace of one of the houses.
This is the home of Bhanwar Singh Rana, a local BJP worker in Pul Prahladpur. A stout man with a ready smile, Rana believes that women in Shaheen Bagh are being paid to protest. He cannot prove it, he claimed, but it is “common sense”. “If the protest is honest, why are they making women sit on the road?”
Nearing the end of an hour-long conversation on politics, the BJP, news and newsmakers, Rana said he likes Republic Bharat.
Isn’t that the channel that did the Shaheen Bagh sting on women, I asked him, deliberately and incorrectly. He smiled, turned to an acolyte seated beside him, and asked mischievously: “Do you know who did that sting?”
Rana answered the question himself: “He is from our street only. There is a shop in our neighbourhood. One boy stood there and talked, and someone made a video of him.”
When I asked Rana to introduce this shop owner to me(Newslaundry reporter), he said he couldn’t. “That person has told me not to reveal his identity. I don’t know who the boy is, but I know the shopwalla. He’s close to me.”
Rana gave me Kumar’s answer when I probed further. “A person who was standing outside the shop made the video, not the shop owner,” he claimed. “You keep that video with yourself. You come to me after February 8, after the elections, and I’ll introduce you to the shop owner,” he grinned.
This AltNews-Newslaundry investigation would have been unnecessary if the news outlets that carried this “sting” as news — and even conducted primetime debates on it — had done their own investigation in the matter.
Here’s basically what happened: three people in a corner of Delhi made unproven claims about a protest eight kilometres away, one of them filmed it, the governing party spread it on social media, and channels like Times Now, Republic and India Today debated it on national television. These tall claims — from which the shopkeeper distanced himself, and which the BJP couldn’t back with evidence — might have attracted eyeballs and generated advertising revenue, but they also lent credence to baseless, unverified claims.
These became a part of an online misinformation campaign to portray the women at Shaheen Bagh as paid protesters. A morphed image and an old video were used for this. These representations came handy in the political domain, like when Home Minister Amit Shah remarked that Delhi voters should “press the voting button so hard that the current is felt in Shaheen Bagh”, or when a BJP minister made a crowd chant “desh ke gaddaron ko, goli maaro saalon ko”, effectively endangering the lives of adults and children at the Shaheen Bagh protest.
We reached out to Amit Malviya for his comments. This story will be updated if and when he responds.
ON THE NIGHT OF 31 DECEMBER 2019, I crossed six flyovers along Delhi’s outer ring road, and then drove down a winding road, passing two police stations and a cemetery, to get to an unusual new year’s night gathering. About a kilometer away from Jamia Millia Islamia—the university where I had lost and found myself as a student almost thirty years ago—I arrived at Shaheen Bagh.
The last days of the year had witnessed Delhi’s coldest winter in possibly one hundred and twenty years. I surveyed the people who had gathered there. There were women in hijab, students with guitars, feisty grandmothers and neighborhood poets. A slogan inscribed on the tarmac read “Next, is Now.” The men and neighbourhood boys were making tea and arranging food, and together with some women, frisking visitors for security at the barricades set up at the entrance to the site. Groups of women and children kitted out in sweaters, jackets, mufflers, balaclavas and woolen caps carried handmade signs and many of them sat under quilts and blankets to shield themselves from the cold. Energetic chants rang out into the night—“Inqilab Zindabad” (long live the revolution) and “Hum Kya Chahte? Azadi!” (what do we want? Freedom!), the latter borrowed, it seems, on a perpetual loan by Indian patriots, from the voices of insurgent crowds of Kashmir. A makeshift platform, festooned with flags, signs with slogans, and a portrait of BR Ambedkar, became a stage for an autonomous, spontaneous, totally self-organised, leaderless rehearsal of a new vision for citizenship.
The sit-in began on 15 December. That Sunday, the Delhi Police had entered Jamia Millia University without permission, in pursuit, they later said, of protestors who had been trying to march from the campus to Jantar Mantar in Central Delhi to mark their opposition to the promulgation of the Citizenship (Amendment) Act by Parliament four days earlier. They fired tear gas shells into the library, beat up students, and later forced them to march out of the campus with their hands raised in the air.
The CAA offers refuge to persecuted religious minorities, barring Muslims, from three of India’s neighbouring countries. These immigrants from Afghanistan, Pakistan and Bangladesh are eligible for citizenship, if they are able to show they were persecuted in their home countries for religious reasons. But persecuted Muslims from those same countries are less likely to get citizenship. It is also unclear why persecuted communities from other neighbouring countries such as Myanmar and Sri Lanka have been left out. The Citizenship Amendment Act, when seen alongside the proposed National Register of Citizens—which has already rendered almost two million people stateless in Assam—and its paper shadow, the National Population Register, implies that many Muslims may find themselves having to be tested, on the basis of documents and legacy papers, to see whether they qualify as Indian citizens. The amendment violates the letter and spirit of Article 14 of the Indian constitution which declares that “The state shall not deny to any person equality before the law, or the equal protection of the laws within the territory of India.” By creating an arbitrary qualifier based on religious identity, the CAA discriminates between people, creating opportunities for one set and handicaps for another. Effectively, it tells Muslims that their lives matter less than that of others in the India that is ruled by Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Home Minister Amit Shah.
Following the police crackdown at Jamia, something changed. The protests swelled into a movement. The government could not have had any prior sense of the assertions of citizenship that were about to be unleashed, and the kind of people who would stand up, unannounced, alive and without permission. A spontaneous midnight demonstration by citizens and students from Jawaharlal Nehru University and Delhi University that night itself, in front of the Police Headquarters at the ITO Crossing, marked something of a beginning. I was there to witness the shock on the faces of my younger companions. Their rage and sorrow, at being assaulted so brutally for simply standing up for the right to equality granted by the Indian constitution, was palpable. The protests received widespread mainstream attention and fifty-two students who had been detained were released after persistent public pressure, well past midnight.
In the next days, students from universities from all over the country began demonstrating in solidarity. Even those universities, such as the IITs and IIMs, which, until now, had not been known for its student politics. Within Delhi, there have been repeated demonstrations organised and coordinated by citizens through social-media platforms. Marches would start at Mandi House, or at Jama Masjid in the Old City, or in the campuses of Delhi University or JNU. Alternatively, gatherings were announced on different days, and at different locations at the designated “protest site” in Jantar Mantar, India Gate, as well as in different neighborhoods—Hauz Khas, Welcome Colony, Alaknanda, Defence Colony, Jaffrabad, or in front of the state houses of Uttar Pradesh, and Assam.
Whatever intent Amit Shah may have had in pushing through this legislation, the net effect of the CAA has been a severe spike in anxiety within Muslim communities all over India. Fears of being “document poor” leading to statelessness, of being sent to detention camps, of having a future darkened by the relentless pursuit of papers has led to the straightforward refusal to comply. This refusal has come not only from Muslims. It has come from all kinds of people, Dalits, Adivasis, migrant workers, women and anybody who feels insulted at having their claim to the country of their birth weighed against a set of papers. A simple statement, written by a young poet, rings out clear from the thousands of protests that are going on everywhere. “Hum kaghaz nahin dikhayengey”—We will not show our papers.
The police clampdown has been brutal. Notably, while massive public gatherings against the CAA-NPR-NRC occurred all over the country, the only places where egregious police violence was reported happen to be in states ruled by the Bharatiya Janata Party or where the police reports directly to the BJP-ruled central government, as in Delhi. In Uttar Pradesh, India’s most populous state, neighboring the national capital, over twenty people were killed by police violence in the span of six days. The chief minister of Uttar Pradesh, Ajay Singh Bisht, who styles himself as a monk and calls himself Yogi Adityanath, promised “revenge” and has unleashed a reign of terror on the Muslim citizens of the state. Policemen in Mangaluru, in the southern state of Karnataka, entered a hospital and fired tear gas shells at patients. Police firing has led to deaths in Assam too, in the North East.
In Delhi itself, after the attack on Jamia Millia Islamia University, there was further police violence in the mainly Muslim neighborhoods of Daryaganj and Seelampur. Section 144, which allows the police to impose a restriction on the assembly of groups larger than a few people at a given site, has been invoked repeatedly, and invariably, violated. The police and paramilitaries are deployed ahead of time in some of these locations, and in several instances have detained busloads of demonstrators and dropped them off at remote locations. Among those detained for protesting have been prominent public figures such as the political activist Yogendra Yadav, the historian Ramchandra Guha and the advocate Prashant Bhushan. Sometimes, people are stopped on their way; the police picks up individuals from autorickshaws and taxis even before they arrive, and taken to police stations, metro services are suspended and the internet slows down.
These measures have not necessarily had the effect that was intended. Rather, it is like a slogan that has become popular, appearing on posters in several demonstrations, claiming: “if you divide us, we will multiply.”
Through all of this, while protestors return to daily life and regroup on different days, it has been the women of Shaheen Bagh who have held their vigil continuously. People in different Delhi neighborhoods began setting up their own Shaheen Baghs—at Khejuri in East Delhi, in Turkman Gate in the Old City. A “Shaheen Bagh” appeared at Park Circus in Kolkata, at Mansoor Ali Park in Allahabad, at Sabzi Bagh in Patna, among others.
Mohammad Iqbal, a poet revered in both India and Pakistan, wrote a poem about seeking and finding other worlds, beyond the known stars: “sitaron se aage, jahan aur bhi hain.” That poem has a couplet which suddenly takes on a new meaning.
Tu shaheen hai parvwaaz hai kaam teraTere saamne aasmaan aur bhi hain
Go falcon stretch your wings in flight
the horizons have opened for your delight
Thousands of people from all across Delhi, and more recently, from the rural hinterland of Punjab, have flocked to the site, making this dusty patch on the highway a new site of secular pilgrimage. The charismatic leader of the Bhim Army, Chandra Shekhar Aazad—who had his own iconic moment when, despite police injunctions, he emerged onto the steps of the Jama Masjid holding the Constitution in hand and was consequently arrested—also visited and received a rousing welcome. Everyday, since the Jamia violence, the women of Shaheen Bagh have sat in; sung tuneless and melodic songs; chanted slogans; waved flags; listened to the haranguing of politicians and pretenders; dealt calmly with alarmist rumors and disgusting calumny; knit mufflers; held prayers, fasted and shared food, gossip, laughter, tears and rage; and have been the groundswell of a constant surge of warm solidarity that transforms even this bitter winter of our discontent into a glorious spring of revelry and resistance.
This now seemingly temporarily permanent arrangement at Shaheen Bagh has been threatened by right-wing politicians, intimidated by sporadic police presence, courted and berated by television anchors. On 30 January, a gun-wielding minor fired at protesting students outside Jamia Millia, after shouting “yeh lo azadi”—take your freedom. In a video that has been widely circulated, he is seen walking backwards waving his gun as the Delhi Police look on a good while before taking him away. His Facebook profile, which has now been taken down, showed pictures of him posing with members of the Sangh Parivar, the umbrella organisations under the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. A post on his page read “Shaheen Bagh, game over.” Two days later, on 1 February, a second man fired a shot, this time in Shaheen Bagh, before being escorted away by the police.
The women of Shaheen Bagh have simply refused to move.
JUST A FEW MONTHS AGO, the Modi regime was gloating over its self-presentation as the protector of Muslim women, whom it had emancipated from the “curse of triple-talaq”—the thrice-uttered formula of instant divorce that, it was alleged, left so many Muslim women abandoned and destitute. And now, it was as if the very same women who Modi claimed to champion had turned out in their thousands to refuse and reject their would-be emancipator, and to settle the terms of the futures that they wanted. They were enacting their preference for being treated as equal citizens rather than as ex-brides in need of rescue. Here was a people unwilling to be saved by those in power.
It is not for nothing, then, that a coalition of young and old women, of student leaders and grannies, of protest-mothers with dharna-babies strapped to them, and young working womenhave become the visible faces of this movement. They arrive on the political stage, totally unannounced, unrehearsed and unprepared to yield. The standard tricks of inducement and coercion simply do not seem to work with them.
In a video that made international headlines and seared its way into our consciousness, several policeman could be seen chasing and visibly taunting a young man and three women—Aysha Renna, Ladeeda Farzana and Chanda Yadav. The students took refuge in the driveway of a private residence. The policemen dragged the man out on to the street. The young women tried to form a protective circle around him, but that did not prevent the police from lashing out at all of them with their lathis. The image of Aysha, finger raised in anger at a helmet-wearing policeman, immediately became one of the icons of this present moment, embodying the extraordinary fearlessness that young women have been able to muster in the face of a repressive state.
They have a strange fearlessness that comes out of not wanting to be unnecessarily confrontational, even while they resolutely stand their ground. This means that both brute force and blunt fraud are effectively defanged. Consequently, power stands on much more uncertain ground than it would have found itself on, had it been facing down the classic Indian political mob—a bunch of unruly young men and their middle-aged masculine minders, who can either be beaten down, or bought over. As of now, neither policemen nor politicians know quite what to do when faced with the women of Shaheen Bagh.
Shaheen Bagh and what it represents naturally invites comparison with earlier moments of mass mobilisation. It has neither the organisational backbone and media muscle of the Lokpal Movement, fronted by Anna Hazare, Ramdev and the India Against Corruption network, nor does it have the spontaneous rage of the crowds of mainly young people that had gathered to mourn and avenge Jyoti Singh, the young woman who had been brutally raped and murdered in Delhi in the winter of 2012. Unlike both these episodes, it is both more unpredictable and more measured. What we are witnessing today is much less univocal, because it is untied to any single issue platforms like corruption or rape. It also refuses the representative logic that marked earlier political moments. There is a stage. But the stage is not where “leaders” sit. Symbolic as well as actual power—including the authority to decide who will and will not take the stage—remains amongst the throng of women and children who sit facing it. That is why there is no leader, no high command, no central charter.
Instead, it is as if the enigmatic, elusive construct of citizenship, and the refusal to offer oneself up for identification to the state, enables and opens out a conversation over a whole spectrum of issues and questions; ranging from the freedom to be different, to the meaning of equality and fraternity. To be in Shaheen Bagh is to be constantly engaged in discussions about the difference, and relation, between subject and citizen. This is a conversation that is both more philosophical and concrete than anything else that has preceded it politically. It also sets the terms for the conversations that we will still be having, well into the future.
The anti-CAA protests do not have a benign presiding patriarch like Jayaprakash Narayan was for the Nav Nirman agitations in the 1970s, or like Mohandas Gandhi was for Quit India in 1942. Nor does it have a charismatic centrifugal inspiration like Charu Mazumdar was, briefly, for the Naxalite uprising. And most importantly, it is not, like almost the entirety of past political mobilisations, almost entirely, exclusively, male. Sixty percent of every current demonstration is made up of young women. The centrality of the student, especially of the female student, in the currents and eddies of this moment, is not something that can be dismissed easily. It builds on the mass mobilisation that young women undertook to defend themselves against sexual violence in Indian cities in 2012, and in the turbulence on university campuses across India, from 2014 onwards, where women activists from within student unions have played a leading role in defending the freedom of the universities from predatory interests tied to the present regime. We have seen this in the movements sparked off by fee hikes, curfews for women at hostels and budget cuts in education, by restrictions on freedom of speech and assembly in campuses.
I saw one of these young women, Akhtarista Ansari, lead a student protest in Jamia on 15 January, a month after the attack on Jamia campus. She articulated an expansive idea of “Azadi.” It was a freedom that included everything from self-determination in Kashmir, to bodily autonomy for young women in public spaces, to dignity for Dalits, to freedom from racial prejudice for students from the North-East, to equality for the queer community, to self-respect and freedom from police-profiling for young Muslims, to affordable education for all students, and to fair wages for workers. She spoke ofthe memory of Rohith Vemula—the Dalit research scholar at the University of Hyderabad who took his own life on 17 January 2016, after facing months of administrative harassment—and the longing for Najeeb, the student who disappeared from the Mahi-Mandavi hostel on the JNU campus, on 15 October 2016, after being attacked by ABVP members.
In each of these instances, what students have been fighting for is the future. Not just their own futures, in terms of jobs and opportunities for higher education and research, but also for the future of those who will come after them. The entire debate over citizenship is basically a dispute about the nature of all our futures.
How do we make sense of the dyad of the grandmother-rebel of Shaheen Bagh and the granddaughter-student-activist of campuses like Jamia or JNU, who stand within the beating heart of this present moment? It is as if two hitherto marginal social categories—girls barely out of their teens, and old women with one foot in the grave—are rewriting the script of what constitutes politics in contemporary India. This may have partly to do with the fact that very young women, and very old ladies, are the two social categories who have the least anchorage in, but the most at stake, in the social fabric of our time. That alone endows them with a natural urge for freedom as well as the urgency to exercise it. They may have the least claim to constituted authority—in that they are least likely to benefit from the grease within old boy networks—but at the same time, it is also true that if things change for them, especially for young Muslim women, they will have fundamentally changed society as a whole.
ON THE MORNING OF 5 JANUARY 2020, when the sun shone briefly again after a long pall of bitter cold, I made my way to a peaceful protest called by an informal network of artists “Artists, Unite.” They had gathered to make drawings and write inscriptions against the Citizenship (Amendment) Act and police violence, on the surface of pavements and footpaths close to the Metro Station at Rajiv Chowk.
As I walked towards this gathering, my attention was caught by a knot of intoxicated men, facing an indulgent phalanx of uniformed police and paramilitary personnel. These men had come to protest against the citizens’ protest. Not wanting to stage a confrontation, the protestors had moved some distance away. But the counter-protestors were in no mood to relent. And so they launched into a full throated set of exhortations to “Shoot the traitors of the nation”—“Desh ke gaddaron ko, goli maaro saalon ko,” a slogan that was later repeated by the BJP’s Anurag Thakur in a hate speech during an election campaign for the forthcoming Delhi elections.
There were further general hoarse outcries against anyone who was a dissident against the Modi-Shah regime. But folded within that anger, I thought, I heard a frustration at being unable to contain and counter the Shaheen Bagh phenomenon. It was as if the regime had offered its foot soldiers an alternative target. This made itself clear to me in an ironic battle cry, “JNU ko, Jamia ko, deke rahengey azadi, Afzal wali azadi”—We will give the students of JNU and Jamia the same freedom that we gave to Afzal Guru. The women of Shaheen Bagh had received enormous amounts of support from the student community of all of Delhi’s universities—Jamia, JNU, Delhi University and Ambedkar University. This was in acknowledgment of the fact that the sit-in itself was partly initiated in response to the police violence against students at Jamia. Mothers had come out in support of their daughters and sons. And now it was the daughters and sons, from Jamia, and JNU, and elsewhere, who were volunteering to support their mothers’ vigil. Shaheen Bagh and the student protests had an amniotic, umbilical relationship.
And it was this code that was laced into the slogans against Jamia and JNU. As if to say to the bearers of the threat, if you cannot hit the mothers of Shaheen Bagh, seek out their real and metaphorical children. It was the promise of death, being held out to students of two universities in Delhi, one of which—Jamia—had already been the target of police violence, and another—JNU—which, unbeknownst to anyone, was going to be so that very evening.
The Jawaharlal Nehru University campus has been in the grip of an agitation by the University Students Union against an aggravated hostel fee hike and a repressive, paternalistic hostel manual, that treats the students, especially women students, as infantile charges rather than self-aware adults. This agitation, faced off by an inflexible university administration, resulted in a students’ boycott of registration for the new semester in the university. Students picketed the registration offices to enforce this boycott. In the previous days, ABVP, the student wing of the BJP, had been trying to break this boycott. This had led to some scuffles. Some of the students belonging to different left-wing groups had to seek medical attention for their injuries, and had been hospitalised. Some of these students were known to me, and I was going to see them in the AIIMS Trauma Centre that Sunday evening, after the citizens protest at Connaught Place, when a phone call from one of them changed my plans.
She called, from the hospital, and told me not to come to the Trauma Centre, but to go immediately to the North Gate of the JNU Campus because, as she said, there was a “massive attack going on.” I rushed to the main gate of the campus, facing Munirka village, to see a street plunged in darkness, across which stood barricades and a massive armed police deployment, calmly letting a large mob of right-wing men chant the very same slogans that I had heard earlier in the afternoon at Connaught Place.
What had unfolded during the course of that evening was unprecedented in the history of university spaces in India. A gang of fifty odd men, and some women—masked and armed with iron rods, hockey sticks and acid bottles—had entered the JNU campus and gone on a rampage. The violence continued for more than three hours. The JNUSU president, Aishe Ghosh, was attacked so badly that she had to have fifteen stitches on her skull. A professor, Sucharita Sen, was also attacked. The brutality of the attack on Aishe was such that it is a matter of sheer luck that she survived. The image of her bloodied head and face began circulating across thousands of phones while the attack carried on inside the campus. The police knew what was going on. They were present, they did nothing to stop the mob. Meanwhile, the masked attackers, several of whom were subsequently identified as members of ABVP in JNU, and in Delhi University went from one hostel to another, targeting the rooms of students who were members of Left organisations, Muslims and Kashmiris. They ransacked the rooms and injured several students. We saw it all live, as students who were being attacked began posting videos from their phones of the assaults even as they were occurring. I received calls from some students who were trapped inside, and could hear curses, the sound of running feet, and people screaming in pain.
Outside the campus, I saw the mob that had formed a cordon at the gate attack an ambulance, assault Yogendra Yadav—a former JNU student—and say that they had gathered to “fight to the finish.” Not only did the police, which was present in full strength, not intervene, it openly cajoled the mob. It laughed with them at those who had gathered to witness this horrifying spectacle. I noticed, as I had begun to at several demonstrations and protests, that the policemen and officers on duty did not wear their name badges. There were masked men on the loose inside, and policemen without identification, outside.
Later, as the attackers melted away into the darkness from which they had come, I accompanied a journalist and an a former JNU student as we made our way into the campus, past a pair of startled Nilgai, through a passage unknown to most people, down a forest path. When I reached Sabarmati hostel, the site of the worst violence, what I heard and saw was terrifying. Students spoke of being chased down corridors, of jumping from balconies, and of security guards looking on. A visually disabled student was beaten despite his protestations to blindness. The mob seemed particularly intent on looking for the rooms of Kashmiri students, who survived by hiding themselves away from the rooms allotted to them.
Outside the main gate to JNU, I had witnessed a well-built ABVP activist, well over six-feet-tall, play the martyr, and say that the violence had been sparked when a female activist of All India Students Association, AISA, a left-wing student formation, attacked him. He said that the reason the ABVP members had to hit back at women in “self-defense” was because “these leftist girls are vicious and deadly.” Inside Sabarmati Hostel, I found the woman student-activist this man had named. She was diminutive, and when I asked her if she had indeed hit the ABVP strong-man, she laughed incredulously, and asked me, “Look at me, look at how big I am, do you think I could have hit him and survived? But yes, we were resisting their attempt to sabotage our picket, by forming a human chain, and that is when he hit me.” Later, I found a video, where this very man could be seen lashing out at women students, with a stick.
The University administration, we learned later, refused to intervene through this crisis. The police, which had so easily walked into the Jamia campus to assault students, refused to enter JNU, despite calls from students and faculty, letting right-wing hooligans complete the task they had been assigned.
The violence at JNU may have been intended to serve several functions, although it is doubtful that it gave the desired results. It gave the restless BJP-RSS-ABVP cadre something to do, especially when they were unable to do anything about Shaheen Bagh. It let off steam, offered a distraction, suddenly gave television anchors an excuse to talk about “student unrest,” and provided the Delhi Police with an opportunity to do some timely victim-blaming.
Even as sting operations unraveled the extent to which the ABVP had mounted this operation, the Delhi Police issued statements at a hurriedly convened press conference. Two police complaints both named Ghosh, the student-union president who narrowly escaped being killed, as an accused. In its statement, the Delhi police named all the Left organisations on the JNU campus in its preliminary finding, and conspicuously avoided naming the ABVP, even though the bulk of the video evidence that had already been circulated pointed to the ABVP as perpetrators.
The police distributed printouts of hazy screenshots from the phones of ABVP activists, which identified Ghosh amongst a group of unarmed students, apparently running, as the “ring-leader of a gang of comrades.” Meanwhile, details of WhatsApp groups with names like “UnityAgainstLeft” and “FriendsOfRSS,” became available. On the timelines of these groups were entire conversations mapping out and executing the attacks. Amongst the members were not only the leading lights of ABVP units of different Delhi campuses, but also a few faculty members of JNU, well known to be mentors of the JNU ABVP unit. A few students told me that they had seen these professors guide the mob.
As the night wore on, I received a message on my phone that simply said: “message from Shaheen Bagh to all JNU students and their well wishers, if anyone needs medical treatment or refuge, please contact us immediately, we can reach you.” I knew that several JNU students had been going to Shaheen Bagh over the last two weeks, as volunteers. This was Shaheen Bagh, reciprocating, mothers reaching out to daughters.
THE JNU STUDENTS’ REFUSAL to register without a reversal of the fee hike and the hostel manual, and the Shaheen Bagh initiated “won’t show papers” campaign, have a common basis. This is about insisting that in order to be recognised, one does not necessarily have to be counted. That entitlement and enumeration are two different processes that must not be confused with each other, or be substituted for each other. That citizenship, the question of belonging and participation, whether as a student in a university, or as a sovereign subject in a state, and a society, is more about quality than it is about quantity. That a human being, a subject, an agent, can never be reduced to a number, an item in a register.
In the transactions between the state and citizens, we can offer up an opportunity to be identified, for limited purposes, and to limited extents, only if the state lives up to its part of the bargain—to enable and sustain a climate where freedom without exclusion flourishes for the sake of all the peaceful inhabitants of a community. That community can be a university, a workplace, a neighborhood, a municipal ward, a city, a province, a country, or the world. This can rely on protocols that distinguish between insiders and outsiders, for specific purposes, but these cannot be rigid and inflexible.
A student in a university can agree to registration provided that process of identification does not prohibit her from moving between the different wings of a hostel. The refusal of women students in JNU to register is contingent on their insistence that the hostel manual, which severely curtails the freedom of movement of women students, be repealed. The refusal of Shaheen Bagh’s women to show papers is similarly anchored in an understanding that the bonds of sisterhood and mutual aid are more real than the paper-thin markers of nationality and authenticated, certified identity.
In protest after protest, I take portraits of people with the signs they carry, and I ask people before taking their pictures whether it is okay to reveal their face. Nine times out of ten, I get, “Of course, let people know that I am here.” Some students bring signs with their names written on the paper, and the date of the protest, as if to say that the cause they embody carries their signature, and the timestamp of their approval. I wonder about this brazen, open declaration of self, and about how it squares with the ubiquity of surveillance, of facial-recognition technologies for crowd management, for the identification of what the Delhi Police has taken to calling “habitual protestors” for the purposes of profiling.
At the same time, I see policemen conceal their name badges, take cover under darkness, wear masks. I see right-wing vigilantes with masks. And I look at all the videos in which the protestors turn their phone cameras on to the policemen, asking them their names, demanding that they show their real faces, asking them for their identification documents, asking why the big cars of the state have illegal “black screened” windows. It is as if the people who say “won’t show papers” are demanding that the embodied representatives of the state show them their papers.
What is going on? What is this new contest between the open-faced insistence for recognition, the demand for the unmasking power, and the simultaneous refusal to be identified?
This is the realisation that brings observant hijabi women, students, lesbians and gay people of all faiths or none, transpeople, immigrants and itinerant workers together in their refusal to submit to the exclusionary protocols of tests of citizenship. A queer activist at a protest, called by feminists and queer initiatives against the CAA and the NRC in Jantar Mantar in Delhi on 3 January, went up to the mike and said, “People of my sexual orientation often have to leave their families, without documents, in a hurry… a test of citizenship tied to demonstrating one’s ties to one’s natal family is something that many of us will not be able to perform.” A sex worker at the same protest said, “Our children don’t know the names of their fathers, how do you expect them to write the name of their paternal grandfathers in government forms?”
This is why Indians who see themselves as perfectly patriotic, knowingly sing the twin anthems of the protests, “Hum Dekhengey,” or “We will see”—an insistence on seeing the real face of power; and “Main Nahin Manta,” or “I do not agree”—the rejection of a perverted constitution. Both were written by Pakistani poets—Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Habib Jalib, respectively. By doing this, the protestors in Delhi, demonstrate that their sense of belonging to their land is at the same time a refusal to be constrained by the nationalistic straitjacket that perpetually positions the Indian as adversarial to the Pakistani. This is why the protestor holding the Indian tricolor shares the same space as the protestor holding the “Free Kashmir” sign, because of the growing recognition that the condition of freedom for one kind of person can never be underwritten by the condition of enslavement of another, at least not for very long.
On the one hand, there is Shaheen Bagh, and the politics that it is putting in place, directed and embodied by women—in a way unprecedented in Indian political history—refusing the media-driven demand for delivering leaders, or even a negotiable set of “demands,” impossible to repress, open, diverse, shape-shifting but permanent at the same time. And on the other hand is the clueless monotony of law and disorder, a Hindutva homogeneity, inevitably masculine. Who will win this face off?
At a recent protest in Delhi University, as part of the All India General Strike called on 8 January, by workers and students organisations, Kawalpreet Kaur, a student of law at Delhi University, and one of the many conveners of the Young India Joint Action Committee Against the CAA and NRC, led a simple act of non-violent civil disobedience. She held up the paper on which the “Delhi University Proctorial Notification forbidding Protests and Demonstrations without Prior Permission on Campus” was printed, and tore it in one swift gesture. A thousand raised hands tore five hundred pieces of copies of the same notification with her.
The answer to the question of who wins this battle on a day-to-day basis is of much greater significance than who loses or wins the next general election, or of who stays in power, and who does not. This, and not the mediated spectacle of pre-configured elections, is the substance of the actual politics of our time. That is why what is happening in Delhi, is part of an inter-continental tectonic turbulence. The linked tremors of our time are felt, not just in Delhi, but in places as far apart as Hong Kong, Tehran, Baghdad, Beirut, Paris and Santiago—cities that in the recent months have been racked by inexplicable waves of insurgent joy and rage.
The movement learns, adapts, changes, reconstitutes itself. A campaign of calumny is orchestrated on television. News anchors level charges of “burqa clad women being brought to the protest site on payment of five hundred rupees.” Immediately, an irascible eighty-two year old grandmother who has been at the site for a month, through the cold, appears on a video that goes viral. She holds out an earthy scold to the TV scamsters, telling them that they can try paying two thousand rupees—four times the measly five hundred—to each of the protesting women, to try and see if they could be persuaded to leave. The defanged rumour persists, more as a joke, than as a malignant, divisive threat, overshadowed by the angry grandma who becomes an urban folk hero.
This suppleness and agility, this ability to joke away a rumour, to give flowers to policemen, to invite the hated prime minister to tea—which appears soft at first—is actually a core strength. No rigid red lines are drawn, nothing is etched in stone, everything is possible because everything is permeable. The movement is a neural network that routes around its own weaknesses and incapacities. It is not thrown off-kilter by any momentary surprise.
There is a “do-it-yourself” ethic, a robust auto-didacticism at work within each of these situations. People are teaching themselves and each other the basics of law, first-aid, graphic design, history and political theory, on the fly, because they are essential parts of the toolkit of everyday resistance. There are street kitchens, snack bars, child-care and nursing stations, libraries, cell-phone charging points, informal pharmacies, legal-aid kiosks and lost-and-found counters.
At Jamia, after each night’s protest winds down, I see a squad of students clean the street. They pick up every scrap piece of trash, sort between paper and plastic, and leave the street clean for the next morning. By day, the same people who volunteered to clean the street read the preamble to the Indian Constitution.
Through repeated readings of the preamble of the Constitution, which the police, without any irony, tries to prevent in college campuses and public spaces, a new language is being forged. It is being spoken into existence by the many peoples who call India their home, and who want to live here. Most of them are citizens, though some may never be. All of them have listened to the speech and silence of the women of Shaheen Bagh. This language has a new grammar of verbs and prepositional forms, ways of doing and being, which insists that syntax of citizenship is a work in progress, and will be so, forever.
WHAT ARE THE LESSONS that Shaheen Bagh teaches us about citizenship?
The first lesson is a reminder, and a proviso. It makes us remember that the declaration of the rights of the citizen, was, in its inception, even at the time of the French Revolution, a declaration of the rights of man and of the citizen. It offers a proviso, that after Shaheen Bagh, this charter, this compact between human beings about how they choose to govern themselves, is about the rights of the woman, of the child, of the man, and of the citizen, in that order.
The rights of the citizen cannot be divorced from the rights of the human who is not, or not yet, a citizen. This is as true for unborn children, citizens of the future, as it is for unverified immigrants—who are citizens of the future in a different sense. I saw this with my own eyes when I saw a school-bus-load of ten- to twelve-year-old school children going home after school in Delhi at a traffic light suddenly unfurl handmade signs out of the windows of their bus to the high pitched accompaniment of chants for Azadi, against CAA and the NRC. My guess is no one had told these children what to do. They were simply claiming their right to the quality of their citizenship, in the future.
The quality of citizenship that a people enjoy has something to do with how hospitable they are prepared to be to others, and to those who will succeed them in the future, because exclusions eventually turn in on themselves, and inclusions only enlarge the horizon of liberty, in space, as well as in time.
No one understood more clearly than BR Ambedkar how deeply the exclusionary principle was embedded in the dominant normative, caste-driven frameworks of Indic societies. That is why his vision of democracy is founded on an annihilation of caste.
“An ideal society should be mobile, should be full of channels for conveying a change taking place in one part to other parts. In an ideal society there should be many interests consciously communicated and shared. There should be varied and free points of contact with other modes of association. In other words there should be social endosmosis. This is fraternity, which is only another name for democracy. Democracy is not merely a form of Government. It is primarily a mode of associated living, of conjoint communicated experience. It is essentially an attitude of respect and reverence towards fellowmen.”
Exclusionary citizenship is just caste with a paper tag. It needs annihilation just as much as caste does. A National Register of Citizens automatically creates the category of “un-citizen,” a new untouchable, on whose absence, banishment, imprisonment or erasure, the newly constituted “uber-citizen” becomes a perpetually self-doubting Frankenstein. (You can never be sure of how good your papers are, until the next moment of scrutiny).
This regime of exclusionary citizenship creates walls between people who cohabit a diverse, layered society, in which people are constantly on the move, in which the categories of inside and outside are fluid, as they should be in a megalopolis like Delhi. It creates micro-hierarchies, mirroring caste, between two people, born within a year from each other straddling either sides of an arbitrary cut-off date, who for all practical purposes might speak the same east-Bengal dialect, eat the same food, be neighbors, or share the same house, or be related to one another. One of them might be able to furnish a paper, becoming certifiably Indian, while the other, whose paper claim being more fragile, or frugal, could be consigned to the limbo of statelessness. This terrible fate has already divided millions of people from their kith-and-kin in Assam. If generalised all over India, it can only lead to a dystopic reality of divided families, detention camps and deportation orders. No one understands this more clearly than the women of Shaheen Bagh. As Muslim women, who move from natal to marital homes, often without papers, their claim to citizenship is built on the nurturing experience of life, not a stamp on a paper.
Their refusal to show papers is built on a moral principle. And that principle is the understanding that the peoples of India cannot build a house of freedom for themselves if its foundation stands on the exclusion, of any people unable to furnish documentary proof of their citizenship claim. If that is done, then citizenship, instead of a ticket to have rights, or a knot in the fabric of solidarity that is constantly being woven and is always unfinished, becomes the lock of a paper cage. The state then becomes the custodian of the key to that cage.
There is a make believe “detention camp” at Shaheen Bagh, an improvised artifact of plywood, cardboard and aluminum rods. It is only a stage-prop, a reminder of the political theatre that life refuses to enact. At the mouth of the alley through which you enter the protest site, there is also a friendly “checkpoint.” On most days when I walk in, a young man, in a smart suit and tie, and cheerful women, young girls and aunties of the neighborhood, greet you with a warm hello, pat you down to see if you are carrying anything that could be dangerous and then usher you in. I observed that in the women’s queue, the “pat down” for security between the “guard” and the “visitor” often ends in a brief, fleeting embrace, and a smile. You are not asked whether you are from Jamia Nagar, Okhla, Delhi, India, Kashmir or elsewhere. You could be the bearer of any passport or none, but you do not need a visa to enter Shaheen Bagh. No one asks to see papers. You are not asked to prove that you are not a Bangladeshi day-laborer in Okhla, or a Rohingya resident of an informal refugee colony not far from Shaheen Bagh. And even if you are, it doesn not matter. As long as you come with an open heart, you are a friend.
The state, or any arrangement that society selects to arrange its affairs is something that is made by human beings, in conversation with each other. It is not a state that determines which humans will be citizens, that is, decide which bodies will play an equal and determining role in shaping the actions and intentions of government. Rather, it is human beings who will determine what powers the state can deploy. It is human beings who retain the capacity to dilute or take back those powers if need be.
It follows from this that citizenship is, everywhere, and at all times, a work in progress. Something that is knit, woven, sung or held in a handshake and an embrace. Or simply, lived, walked towards. This is at the heart of the refusal to show papers, this is what transforms the winter of our discontent into the possibility of more than one glorious futures.
This keeps me awake, and it should keep all of us awake, now and through the coming nights, even as the darkness deepens.
The sixteenth-century poet, mystic, leather-worker, cobbler, Ravidas, who would have been considered “untouchable” by many of those who held power in his time, is an early user of the word “shahri”—the Hindustani term commonly used to refer to a citizen. In his enigmatic and utopian song, “Begumpura,” which is a part of the Sikh scripture, the Granth Sahib, as well as of the legacy of medieval poetry reclaimed by Dalit movements, Ravidas invites his listeners to walk with him to Begumpura, the citadel of bliss. (It can also be read as the “city of ladies,” through a pun on the word begum—which can mean both lady, and without sorrow). Ravidas says:
Kahe Raidas khalas ChamaraJo hum-sahri su mitu hamara
Says Ravidas, the free leatherworker
All friends are fellow citizen,
all citizens are friends.
Shaheen Bagh, a city of women within this capital city, remakes citizenship, as a compact of friendship between strangers. From Shaheen Bagh, it is a long walk and a brief journey, to Begumpura.
തീരപ്രദേശത്ത് അമ്പത് മീറ്റര് പരിധിയില് താമസിക്കുന്നവരുടെ സ്ഥലം ഏറ്റെടുത്ത് അതില് തീരദേശ ഹൈവേയും സംരക്ഷിത വനവും നിര്മ്മിക്കാനാണ് സര്ക്കാരിന്റെ പദ്ധതി എന്നാണ് റിപ്പോര്ട്ടുകള്.
കേരളത്തിന്റെ സ്വന്തം സൈന്യം, അങ്ങനെയാണ് മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികളെ സര്ക്കാര് വിശേഷിപ്പിച്ചത്. എന്നാല് മഞ്ചേശ്വരം മുതല് പാറശാല വരെയുളള മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികള്ക്ക് തങ്ങളുടെ വീടും കിടപ്പാടവും നഷ്ടമാകുന്ന സാഹചര്യമാണ് നിലവില്. സുപ്രീംകോടതി വിധിയുടെ അടിസ്ഥാനത്തില് തീരദേശ നിയമം ലംഘിച്ചെന്ന് ആരോപിച്ച് പതിനായിരക്കണക്കിന് കുടുംബങ്ങള്ക്കാണ് സര്ക്കാര് നോട്ടീസ് നല്കിയത്. കേരളത്തില് തന്നെ ഏറ്റവും അധികം പേരെ തീരപ്രദേശത്ത് നിന്ന് മാറ്റേണ്ടി വരുന്നത് ആലപ്പുഴയിലെ പുന്നപ്രയിലാണ്. സുനാമി ദുരന്തത്തില് വീട് നഷ്ടമായവര്ക്കായി സര്ക്കാര് സ്ഥലം കണ്ടെത്തി നിര്മ്മിച്ച് നല്കിയ വീടുകളും സിആര്ഇസഡ് പരിധിയില് വരുന്നു എന്നതാണ് ഇതിലെ വിചിത്രമായ മറ്റൊരു വശം. മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികള് അവരുടെ ജീവിതം പറയുന്നത് കാണാം.
തീരത്ത് നിന്നും മാറുന്ന മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികള്ക്കായി സര്ക്കാര് മത്സ്യഭവന്റെ നേതൃത്വത്തില് പുനര്ഗേഹം എന്ന പദ്ധതിയാണ് തയ്യാറാക്കിയിരിക്കുന്നത്. 10 ലക്ഷം രൂപയാണ് വീടും സ്ഥലവും വാങ്ങാനായി ഇതുപ്രകാരം നല്കുന്നത്. ആരെയും നിര്ബന്ധിച്ച് തീരത്ത് നിന്ന് മാറ്റിത്താമസിപ്പിക്കുന്നില്ല എന്ന് പറയുമ്പോഴും വീടും സ്ഥലവും വിട്ടുകൊടുക്കാത്തവര്ക്ക് ഭാവിയില് സഹായങ്ങളൊന്നും ലഭിക്കില്ല എന്ന ഭീഷണിയാണ് സര്ക്കാരിന്റെ ഭാഗത്ത് നിന്ന് ഉണ്ടാകുന്നതെന്ന് മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികള് പറയുന്നു. കൂടാതെ നിലവിലെ സാഹചര്യത്തില് 10 ലക്ഷം രൂപ സ്ഥലം വാങ്ങാന് മാത്രമേ തികയു. പിന്നെങ്ങനെ ഈ തുകയ്ക്ക് വീട് വെക്കും, തീരത്ത് നിന്ന് മാറുന്നതോടെ മത്സ്യബന്ധനം തന്നെ താറുമാറാകും, ജീവിതം പട്ടിണിയിലാകും എന്ന ആശങ്കയും മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികള് പങ്കുവെയ്ക്കുന്നു. ചുരുക്കത്തില് നിയമത്തിനും കടലിനും ഇടയിലാണ് മത്സ്യത്തൊഴിലാളികളുടെ ജീവിതം.
The Lede expose on ‘freedom fee’ demanded from domestic workers in Kuwait to also go to Kerala High Court
NORKA’s (Department of Non-Resident Keralites Affairs) contract with Kuwait’s Al Durra agency to recruit Indian domestic workers faces uncertainty as the Indian embassy has intervened with definite steps.
NORKA is a Kerala government’s arm set up to ensure the safe migration and welfare of Keralite migrants. It is the agency entrusted by the Indian Ministry of External Affairs to recruit nurses and domestic service workers for 18 Emigration Clearance Required (ECR) countries.
On January 10, The Lede had exposed that domestic workers sent by NORKA to Kuwait are being subjected to modern-day slavery and forced to pay freedom fee by Al Durra for return
An Indian domestic worker who had returned to India after paying the freedom fee and a few other women stuck in the Al Durra shelter in Kuwait had detailed to The Lede how the NORKA-Al Durra safe migration contract is falling apart and how women are subjected to slavery and threatened.
On Wednesday, talking to The Lede, a senior official from the Indian embassy in Kuwait said that, upon coming across The Lede story, they have written to Al Durra agency seeking the terms and conditions which allow them to seek money from domestic workers who wish to return.
The Lede had published the receipt, which Al Durra had given to Beena Omanakuttan, the Indian domestic worker who paid Rs 1.1 lakh ‘freedom fee’ for securing her return from Kuwait.
“We have sought an explanation from Al Durra. One reply has come without proper clarifications. We have written to them again. If they fail to give us a convincing answer for the violation, we will take appropriate actions. We don’t want Indian domestic workers to be exploited. The Indian embassy is here to ensure their safety and welfare,” the official told The Lede.
Following the The Lede story on January 10, a few more women who were held back as they had no money to secure their freedom had returned without paying a single penny.
Meanwhile, talking to The Lede, Beena Omanakuttan said that women sent by NORKA are quite literally being sold by Al Durra.
“When I requested Al Durra to change my employer as he was exploitative, I was called back to the Al Durra office and then sold to another employer. The Al Durra had taken 600 Kuwaiti Dinar from the first employer. And from the second employer, they took 500 Kuwaiti Dinar. So, they earned 1100 Kuwaiti Dinar, which is Rs 2,57,000. After earning this money, they forced me to pay Rs 1.1 lakh for freedom. I had to purchase my ticket too,” Beena said.
Interestingly, it is learned that even though NORKA is a government agency, it has not been following the norms set by the Indian Ministry of External Affairs.
The Indian Ministry of External Affairs has developed a standard job contract for workers who migrate through eMigrate, which guarantees several protective steps to ensure decent working conditions and welfare of Indian migrants.
eMigrate was established by the Indian government in 2015 to ensure safe migration as thousands were duped by crooked recruitment agencies.
“I am surprised to learn that NORKA is not following eMigrate norms. Why can’t they replicate the standard job contract prepared by the Indian government,” Advocate Hubertson Tomwilson, a migrant rights activist, said.
Meanwhile, an RTI reply from NORKA states that from 2015 till 10 January 2020, it has recruited 413 domestic workers, 1150 nurses, 7 doctors, and 24 technicians.
The maximum number of domestic workers were recruited in 2019. The number is 299.
Meanwhile, MK Salim, a public interest litigation activist, will file a plea in Kerala High Court against NORKA.
Submitting The Lede story as evidence and getting consent from Beena Omanakuttan, the activist has prepared a plea which states that NORKA Roots directors are the biggest employers in the Arab Gulf, however, they are not recruiting a single person through NORKA.
“The NORKA Roots have employed lakhs of Keralites in their establishments in the Arab Gulf. Unfortunately, none of them were recruited through NORKA. They all were employed directly so that they can be exploited. This is unfair,” Salim said.
Chaired by Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan, leading businessmen in the Arab Gulf are other directors of NORKA Roots.
“Why are these directors enjoying the privileges of being a director in NORKA Roots, if they don’t want to take a single Keralite through the entity where they are directors. It’s a shame,” Salim added.
There are 30 million Indian migrant workers, with over nine million in the GCC region (Gulf Cooperation Council) alone.
Over 90% of Indian migrant workers who work in the Arab Gulf are semi-skilled and unskilled workers.
In the industrial suburb of Sarjapur in Bengaluru, 47-year-old Ram Mitra (name changed) runs a 10X10ft carpentry workshop. The shop sits precariously on an encroached footpath. It does not get too many visitors. There is one three-legged stool. Everything in the shop is movable except for a fixture atop which sits a small shrine. Almost a metaphor for the one thing he holds on to—faith. Ram Mitra was also, until recently, the owner of a Kotak Mahindra Bank credit card.
A card he was sold with the promise of “paying later”. That Mitra was approached for a credit card despite low savings is in itself astonishing. Even at his financial best, he earned Rs 20,000 ($279) a month, with his household income under Rs 30,000 ($418)—not a number banks would traditionally swoop down to offer credit cards for.
But Mitra and his family’s history with banks has been nothing short of traumatic.
Speaking about the Kotak representative, he says, “He could not even speak in Hindi, I didn’t understand what they told me”. But he understood what the card could do. “I could buy now, pay later.”
When the card came his way, his expenses were soaring and earnings were unpredictable. The Mitras were ready to grasp at any option that helped them defer payments.
Except the card bled them dry.
“We kept repaying what we thought we spent, but how much ever we repaid the balance amount did not reduce at all.” They spent nearly Rs 41,000 ($571) using the card, Mitra’s bank statements—as of September 2019—show. But, in February 2019, they got a message saying dues worth Rs 31,237 ($435) on credit card payments were pending. Six months later, another message calling for dues of Rs 5,800 ($81) dropped.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
“Only when we went to pay that due and close the credit card, we realised that credit cards have an interest payment and penalty after 45 days,” says Mitra’s wife, who works as a household help. “A friend told us we could pay back a credit card payment over one year,” she adds. The couple paid the dues partly by borrowing money from the households they work in and by taking money from another lender by pledging gold. (In an earlier story, we wrote about fintechs leaning on credit cards.)
The family’s banking woes don’t stop at credit cards or even Kotak Mahindra for that matter. While Kotak upsold products to the family—from savings to current to life insurance, a minor account, all the way up to the credit card—each time bringing financial losses to the Mitras, they’ve also suffered the ill-practice of misselling at the hands of representatives of big brands such as local search platform Justdial, Vijaya Bank and tuition app Extramarks.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
Put together, the Mitras’ misfortune from misselling amounts to Rs 4.12 lakh ($5,740) in 3 years. All emanating from a need for upward mobility and for their children to have access to a good education.
“I know how education can change lives. I wanted to study more, but I couldn’t because we were poor,” says Mitra’s wife, who studied till Class X. Their daughter, who is studying commerce, wants to do an MBA. Their son goes to a private school. Because English. “Speaking good English is important to get a good job, a government school where he’ll learn Kannada won’t be useful outside Bangalore,” she says.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
Except, schooling meant signing up for more expenditures. Out of money they didn’t have.
It’s a disease.
Those in the mass segment like the Mitras, straddled between the lower-income and middle-class households, are the most vulnerable to this disease of misselling. The lower-income segment comes under various government schemes and servicing them is almost a social duty for banks. The middle class and upper class—those who earn over Rs 6 lakh ($8360) a year—are for whom most banking products are designed. Even if mis-sold, they have the resources to fight it out. But that’s not true for the mass segment. As a result, the financial assault is relentless.
Misselling is also under-tracked. The RBI, in its Ombudsman report for 2018, got only 163,590 consumer complaints overall. The report does not even have categories to report a product-wise mis-sale. The report says only 0.4% of complainants alleged misselling. As a result, as the financial daily Mint’s consulting editor Monika Halan says in her piece if one were to go by the RBI’s report, there is no misselling by banks.
Charge sheet
RBI said 5% of the total complaints were related to levying charges without notice. These charges include non-maintenance of minimum balance, processing fees, pre-payment penalties
The Mitra’s losses are institutionally invisibilised.
“A product like a credit card makes perfect sense for low-income households as they experience short term liquidity constraints and need quick access to low-cost funds for very short periods,” argues Deepti George of Dvara Research, a policy research institution. But in the current reality, it’s treated as an elite product.
Mitra, today, earns Rs 10,000 ($140) some months, Rs 5,000 ($70) in others, and some months, nothing at all. His wife makes Rs 13,000 ($180) a month.
Mitra didn’t start where he is today. In 2016, he had a carpentry business that was looking up; he went from an apprentice to an entrepreneur employing 10-14 people. He had a workshop in the up-and-coming neighbourhood of HSR Layout, Bengaluru.
That’s when the first of many blows to come hit the Mitras—the savings account.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
In April that year, a salesperson came from Kotak Mahindra. A snazzy bank he associated with the affluent. Suddenly, he found himself being approached by a bank rep, instead of having to repeatedly knock on bank doors. Mitra had, back in West Bengal, made many failed attempts to get loans for a business selling puffed rice. In fact, the family moved to Bengaluru to repay a debt of Rs 10 lakh ($14,000) they owed suppliers.
Life had done a 180, Mitra thought.
Kotak, as he saw it, was also an upgrade from the government-owned Bank of India account he had. Moreover, the…
Kotak, as he saw it, was also an upgrade from the government-owned Bank of India account he had. Moreover, the bank agent promised easy access to loans. He was sold.
“The business was growing. I thought it would be useful to have an option to get a loan, and it was a big bank, so I took the account,” says Mitra.
This was a time when his business would make Rs 4-5 lakh ($5,500-7,000) in turnover, leaving him with earnings of about Rs 20,000 ($280) a month. That along with the roughly Rs 8,000 ($111) his wife earned as a household help meant they could square away savings to keep in a savings bank account whenever they saved enough.
But savings accounts are gateway products for banks. You’ll take it because of the interest on deposits. Now, the banks have your data. You become easy to sell to.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
Mitra wanted to get the most out of his savings account. He made deposits close to Rs 1 lakh for the first few months. In September, just five months after the savings account, Mitra found himself hosting a Kotak representative, who’d come down from a branch 13 km away.
Again, the bank representative dangled the loans carrot. The item on sale? A current account.
The savings account gave Mitra the confidence to handle another Kotak product. With this came a debit card—Mitra could withdraw as much money as he wanted, promised the bank representative. For a business run on cash payments, this seemed useful to Mitra.
Convenience costs
Banks offer 5 withdrawals from their own ATMs. Only 3 free withdrawals on other banks’ ATMs as it pays a fee of Rs 15 when its users use other ATMs. Mitra’s ATM cash withdrawal charges alone came to Rs 2,428, averaging Rs 23 per withdrawal in the 2.5 years he had an account
Except, the current account was a wrong sell. “Current account is meant for businesses that have a high velocity of digital payments. It earns no interest,” said a senior executive who works at a financial marketplace. “So a savings account should have been good enough for Mitra, given that he makes most of his payments in cash,” he added.
With the two accounts, Kotak agents had now signed him up for a commitment. An average monthly balance for Rs 35,000 ($500) between the two—Rs 7,000 ($100) more than the couple’s monthly income. Failing this, Mitra would be automatically charged a fee for non-maintenance. The second blow.
Banks ended up charging Mitra for non-maintenance. The irony of having a savings bank account struck them. “We thought we could save money by keeping money there, but whatever money we kept in there simply kept disappearing,” says Mitra’s wife.
But that came later.
At this point, sales agents were only starting to swarm around the Mitras.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
A month after the current account, the agents had a bigger promise to offer—life insurance with a cover for Rs 4.2 lakh.
For Mitra this was not just an upgrade, but a shot at a secure future, even though the annual premium of Rs 30,000 was daunting. “Why would I not take the chance to make sure my family will be fine even after my time?” he asks.
With his Kotak savings account, he could make quarterly payments. But what if he defaulted and the policy lapsed? We can’t have that, said the agent, before getting Mitra to sign a form that authorised Kotak Life Insurance to automatically debit his account every quarter.
Except the plan he was sold would only yield a return of less than 4% over 15 years, said the executive who works at a financial marketplace who reviewed the plan. This while Kotak Mahindra earns a 30%-50% commission in the first year, and a small portion through the decade Mitra makes his payments, according to the executive quoted above. Third blow.
This is where the Mitras’ problems compounded.
In November 2016, the Indian Rupee was demonetised, and overnight, the government banned 86% of cash. Suddenly, Mitra had no cash to make payments to his labourers. They quit. He didn’t have the cash to buy supplies. Business was hit.
This took a toll on his mental health. He felt watched, monitored. His wife, worried, sent him back to his village in West Bengal for a few months.
The family’s income was down to her wages. But expenses remained constant.
After managing by borrowing for a year, in 2017, it was time to send their 15-year-old daughter to a new school. The school insisted on her having a minor bank account. Familiar with Kotak, the Mitras opened her an account in a nearby HSR branch. The bank took a cheque for Rs 10,000. This was yet another account where they needed to maintain a minimum balance. Another account they didn’t know they had to. Fourth blow.
By mid-2017, the fees and charges came thick and fast from all three accounts.
Rs 354 ($5), monthly, for non-maintenance of the minor account.
Rs 531 ($7), monthly, for non-maintenance of the savings account.
Rs 1,770 ($25), quarterly, for the current account.
Since April 2016, they’ve paid up Rs 22,000 ($300) in charges across the three accounts. More than their current income.
By mid-2017, Mitra had to downsize to his current shop in Sarjapur.
Overall, Mitra could only maintain average monthly savings of about Rs 7,000 ($100), according to Purav Parekh, co-founder of GLIB.ai, a company that uses technology to help users get analytics on their bank statement. The company analysed Mitra’s bank statements on The Ken’s request, with his consent. “Bank charges do not normally exceed 1% of average minimum balance over the course of a year,” said Parekh.
But Mitra has incurred charges more than 100% of his average monthly balance, taking both accounts into consideration, said Parekh.
“We usually monitor maintenance of balance, and if, for successive months, we notice non-maintenance charge, we alert customers,” claims Puneet Kapoor, executive vice-president at Kotak. ”When we notice these charges, we advise the customer to move to a zero-balance account.” Alternatively, if a customer brings it up, they claim to waive the charge and migrate the user to another bank account.
There’s a catch. “We issue [zero-balance] only if someone asks about it [at the time of opening a savings account],” admits Kapoor.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
The Ken asked Mitra if he ever went to the bank to contest the fees. He says he couldn’t afford to leave his shop unattended and go away for two hours. And, besides, the prospect of going to such a big bank intimidated him.
The Mitras, despite avoiding using the credit card, had to take it out for their son’s school fees. “And that’s also because his school insisted on paying it digitally, so we decided to use the card,” says Mitra’s wife.
But banks thrive on credit cards. Just look at the IPO prospectus of the country’s second-largest credit card issuer SBI Cards and you’ll know. It made Rs 7,200 crore ($1 billion) in revenue in the financial year ended March 2019 with 50% of its income coming from the interest it earns.
Given credit cards’ importance to a bank’s revenue stream, they are mis-sold, admits a senior banker at a private bank. Kapoor of Kotak Mahindra Bank also admits that Mitra should not have been given a credit card. One year of deposit history is not enough data to give a card.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
But bank reps aren’t the only ones to missell. When salespersons target those in the mass segment, there are multiple ways they prey on insecurities. They may start with building aspirations, and they may build it up to a situation where the customer needs saving.
Then they play saviour.
In August 2018, a salesperson from Justdial pitched an ad-service to Mitra—‘here’s how your carpentry service can be listed prominently on Justdial in Bengaluru’! Mitra needed to grab some eyeballs for his small Sarjapur business. The cost? Rs 8,000 for the first month plus an Electronic Clearing Service (ECS) mandate, which Mitra signed again without realising. This gave his bank the consent to deduct money from his account automatically every month.
That’s Rs 50,843 ($700) Mitra didn’t expect to pay up. “They told me pay for one month, and if you don’t like it you can cancel,” he says.
A month later, when no new business came in, Mitra says he asked Justdial to terminate the contract. Justdial’s customer care centre claims to have no record of this call or the termination itself.
In just a month, Justdial pinged his account at least six times hoping to dip into the savings anytime he deposited cash. Each ECS request that bounced from the account attracted a Rs 590 penalty from the bank.
Mitra paid ECS penalties worth Rs 3752 ($50) in December 2018, his bank statements show. The recurring ECS requests from Justdial would go on for another five months, long after there was no money left to debit.
Justdial did not respond to questions on their sales method or why they pinged an account multiple times. Kotak Mahindra said, the charges levied for non-maintenance and ECS-return are essentially a “penalty for poor banking behaviour.”
The Mitra family also played right into the hands of other scamsters. As recently as June 2019.
18 days after Mitra’s wife opened a bank account at Vijaya Bank, she got a call from a scammer posing as a bank manager. “He told me because my Aadhaar card was from WestBengal, it won’t work here and he is shutting off my ATM service.” All he needed was the One Time Password (OTP) and her card CVV number to reactivate the ATM service.
Result? Rs 7,000 ($100) gone.
“I knew I’m not supposed to give my ATM pin and OTP, but this man knew all my details, so I was convinced he was from the bank,” she says.
Questions to Vijaya Bank on how details that were confidential to the bank landed in the hands of a scammer went unanswered.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
How did one family become the centre of misselling of not one, but all five products that were sold to him?
Kotak Mahindra insists that the account had “no irregularities”. And that there were “regular transactions taking place [with] positive balances in [Mitra’s] savings account with no charges levied for non-maintenance of Average Monthly Balance (AMB)”. “He also had a good credit bureau score. Based on this, after 6 months, we cross-sold him a current account, a credit card, and a life insurance policy in October 2016,” says the bank in a written response to The Ken. “This is not an anomaly,” the bank adds.
And yet, deviations happen. It begins with the sales agents who are on a mission to meet targets laid out by the banks. Much like any FMCG company selling soap. Except here, they are selling some of the most complex financial products. “Sales agents act on the leads received by banks,” says a sales agent who sells credit cards. “The leads can come from anywhere in the city. It is not restricted to one geography,” he says. That explains how Mitra was wooed by agents from different branches.
Incentives drive salespersons. “The incentives can be 40% to 100% of your salary, so the opportunity to earn more is significant,” explains a sales manager at Kotak Mahindra Bank. When it comes to closing a sale, offering information voluntarily can ruin the sale, admitted a branch head at Yes Bank requesting anonymity.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
At The Ken, we applied for a credit card to observe the process. The third-party agent representing ICICI Bank, who came to collect the Know Your Customer (KYC) documents and get signatures, failed to bring a brochure with credit card details. Even though the application requires the customer to read the brochure before signing. “It’s all sent over email. We stopped carrying the physical brochure with us long ago,” says the agent. But the email would not be sent to everyone. “They’ll send it to you only if you ask for it,” he says, admitting that there would be customerswho would not be aware of all the details of the product because of this.
So what happens when you don’t have an email address?
In Mitra’s case, the agents just manufactured one. Different fake email IDs for his credit card and life insurance accounts. So Mitra neither got his credit card statements over email nor did he get a physical copy.
When we asked Kotak Mahindra what they do to make sure agents sell the right product, Puneet Kapoor said they train and sensitise the agents to sell the right products. He also said they issue forms in vernacular languages and give a shortened version of the terms and conditions called the ‘most important terms and conditions’, which customers need to read and sign. At a mass level, customers’ signatures are the only check to ensure that they’ve understood what they’re signing up for, he said.
“With deposit products, banks end up incurring major costs, so there is no incentive to missell,” says a senior banking executive. But then again, how far did that savings account take Mitra?
After all, banks are in this for the money. Hence, the costly charges and fees.
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
The banker quoted above claims banks have no choice but to charge for these products because it is forced to give many services for free. For example, payments transfers using National Electronic Funds Transfer (NEFT) have been made free. Similarly, the government has mandated that banks cannot charge merchants a fee for accepting digital transactions. “Maintaining all this infrastructure is costly. The regulator looks at the benefit for consumers, but we need to run a business too. There are no free lunches,” said the banker.
The other reason the likes of Mitras fall prey is that banking products have been created for the top 30% of the Indian population, says Rajat Singh, head of micro-banking at Ujjivan Bank, a small finance bank, which focuses on the mass market.
No perfect model
Ujjivan is banking to mass market by having no charges for non-maintenance of minimum balance in all its savings accounts. It has no cap on the amount of annual transactions. It offers 6 monthly free ATM withdrawals on other bank’s ATMs. Ujjivan too doesn’t make money on these accounts as it says building banking behavior takes time
Selling to those who can’t pay: human cost of modern banking
While banks continue to focus on profit, Mitras—and those like them—are stuck in this vicious cycle. Save. Lose. Borrow. All they’re counting on is that the next generation, with access to good education, breaks free of this cycle.
This is why when the Mitras got a call with the voice on the other end promising better education for their son, they went with it. They thought it was the school calling, except it was a sales agent from the tuition app Extramarks. The agent knew the name of their son’s school; the company claims to have gathered this through outreach events which they conduct. The Mitras were told that two counsellors would come home and give an evaluation test.
The counsellors came on a Sunday. The test itself was free but the subscription they recommended based on it was not. Not wanting to come in the way of their kid’s education, they paid up the fees. Rs 3,333 ($45).
It is only later that the Mitras realised they had signed up for an annual subscription worth Rs 30,000 ($420) for Extramarks, a tuition app for children. Rs 3,333 was the first EMI.
They called Extramarks to discontinue this EMI, but they could not. Extramarks refused to cancel. Eventually, they got a partial refund of Rs 1,000 ($14).
Karunn Kandoi, a senior executive at Extramarks, told The Ken that the company is aware of the problem of misselling and has set up multiple processes to ensure that the customer is aware of what they are signing up for.
“I’m now convinced that the chances of my money getting stolen from my bank account is higher than if I keep it at home,” says Mitra’s wife, defeated.
MS Sriram, faculty at the Centre for Public Policy at IIM Bangalore, sees the logic in that. “Banking for the poor is overrated. It only makes sense from a data collection perspective and helping make the right policies for that segment. But when it comes to helping [those like Mitra], banking is not going to make a big difference in their lives, unless it is backed up by subsidies,” says the professor.
Bengaluru (Karnataka) & Mousuni (West Bengal): Two years back when theatre director Nimi Ravindran, 43, got a grant to teach theatre to students at a public school, she was confident her fluency in the local language, Kannada, would be enough to communicate with the students. Instead she found that all but one of 20 fifth graders at a Kannada-medium public school in Bengaluru’s Marathahalli area spoke Bengali.
“Most of them said they were from West Bengal. I wondered what these children were doing so far from home,” Ravindran said. As she started conducting workshops in Hindi, that the children were somewhat familiar with, their stories started flowing.
“They spoke about the trees near their homes, the spirits that lived in them and the clean air. They missed their home,” Ravindran recalled.
The Sundarban delta–nearly one million hectare in area–is formed at the point where the rivers Ganga, Brahmaputra and Meghna merge into the Bay of Bengal. The delta is extremely fertile as the three rivers carry an estimated one billion tonnes of sediments.
Nearly 40% of Sundarban–the world’s largest mangrove forest, three times as large as Goa–is in India, the rest is in neighbouring Bangladesh.
Sundarban (literally ‘beautiful forest’) features in the list of UNESCO’s 209 natural heritage sites in the world for supporting “an exceptional level of biodiversity in its terrestrial, marine and aquatic habitats”.
Over the last 40 years, Sundarban has lost 220 sq km–nearly the size of Kolkata–to the sea, according to Sugata Hazra, director of the School of Oceanographic Studies at Jadavpur University.
As rising sea levels engulf entire islands, residents are migrating en masse, from the Bangladesh as well as the Indian side of Sundarban.
Not all are environmental migrants, but with no documentation of this kind of migration, the numbers are hard to estimate.
But ripples of this migration are being felt over 2,000 km to the southwest. As many as 40% of students in some Kannada-medium government schools in Bengaluru speak Bengali, according to the Samridhdhi Trust that runs bridge schools to help these children cope.
IndiaSpend tracked some of these migrants from Sundarbans to the Kalihata slum in east Bengaluru’s Marathahalli area. Studies show that several districts of West Bengal, not just in Sundarban but across the state, are extremely vulnerable to the impact of climate change.
By 2060, nearly 1.4 billion people across the world will be at risk of becoming environmental migrants, some internal and others flocking across borders. The annual rate of sea level rise is expected to triple by the year 2100, making agriculture as well as everyday life in low-lying places, like Sundarban, unsustainable.
This is the third story in our series on how climate change is disrupting people’s lives (you can read the first story here and the second here). The series combines ground reporting from India’s climate change hotspots with the latest scientific research, and highlights how people are adapting to the changing climate.
One in 10 individuals living in a low-lying coastal area on this planet is in India. Along with China, Bangladesh, Indonesia and Vietnam, India has the highest population that will be exposed to the impact of flooding and extreme weather events that the rising sea will bring, according to a 2015 study.
Human activities have already caused global warming by 1 degree Celsius, according to the September 2018 report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), the world body for assessing science related to climate change. Governments of 195 countries are on this panel.
“Over 90% of the heat trapped in the climate system is actually in the oceans. As the oceans warm, just like liquid in a thermometer, it expands and (the) sea level rises,” said John Church, research scientist and one of the lead authors for the chapter on sea level rise in the IPCC’s fifth assessment report.
Melting of non-polar ice, like that in the Himalayas, the thermal expansion of oceans as they warm, and the melting of ice sheets in Greenland and Antarctica are pushing up global sea levels.
“With unmitigated emissions the sea level rise could be as much as one metre by 2100,” Church said. If the entire ice sheet over Greenland were to melt, that alone would cause global sea levels to rise by seven metres. If all the ice sheets in Antarctica melt, it could push the levels up by another 55 m.
Sea levels will continue to rise not just through the century but well past 2100. For people living on small islands, low-lying coastal areas and deltas, this means, at best, that more salt water from the sea will enter their fields making the soil unsuitable for agriculture, there will be increased flooding, frequent cyclones and infrastructure damage. At worst, it means the piece of land they call home would be under water.
Scanty research on the India side of Sundarban
The changing climate in the Bangladesh side of Sundarban is well documented but not much is known about the Indian side, according to Selvin Pitchaikani, an oceanographer at the Institute of Environmental Studies and Wetland Management (IESWM) in Kolkata.
Pitchaikani, who published his data on the changing weather patterns in Sundarban in 2017, found that the land is increasingly growing saline and that cyclonic storms have become frequent. Rainfall patterns have already changed, making conventional cultivation difficult for farmers, his research found.
But “to come to any conclusion, we need data for a minimum of 20-25 years. We need more weather stations in the region as well as funding”, he said emphasising the need for more research.
With migration, children grow up without a parent, fewer people to care for the elderly
It’s a four-hour car ride from Kolkata to the Sundarban delta region. Once here, a car becomes useless. To reach the island of Mousuni, it’s another hour-long journey of switching between electricity-powered rickshaws while on small stretches of land, and small boats to cross the streams.
Electricity reached Mousuni–one of the larger islands in the delta with a population of over 25,000–a year ago, trailing climate change by decades.
Sheikh Sufi, 27, grew up in Mousuni. His home is on the coast overlooking the Bay of Bengal. “We used to grow rice and chillies but a decade back there was severe flooding. After that the crops haven’t grown,” Sufi said, holding his three-year-old son Abdul Rehman over his shoulder. Once their land became infertile due to salt water, they learnt to fish. Now, six months a year, Sufi travels over 2,000 km to Kerala to work as a construction worker earning about Rs 300 a day.
Like Sufi, nearly 96% of these environmental migrants are headed to other areas within India, according to a study of 1,315 households in the region. The study was conducted by Deltas, Vulnerability & Climate Change: Migration and Adaptation (DECCMA), a consortium of researchers from universities in UK, Ghana, Bangladesh and India.
Of these migrants, 83% are men and 17% women. Most are young; between the ages 21 and 30. The men interviewed for the study said they were moving for employment opportunities as agriculture was unsustainable. The women were moving to either join their husbands post marriage or to live with other family members.
Left behind are the elderly, children and most women.
“There are two types of migrations–proactive, who plan their retreat from the coast in advance and reactive, who move only when there is no other alternative left. In Sundarban we are still witnessing reactive migration,” said Indrila Guha, principal at Basanti Devi College, Kolkata and a researcher in environmental economics.
Children growing up without a parent, fewer people to care for the elderly, and poor women who could become easy targets for traffickers, are some of the potential fallouts of this situation, according to Guha.
For the ones who move with their families in tow, life continues to remain tough. The children in Bengaluru’s bridge schools struggle to adjust to life in the city, the language barrier making it even more challenging for them to adjust. Parents frequently move in search of jobs and education is one of the first casualties.
Residents adapt to rising seas
As the onslaught of the sea continued, Sufi’s home was reduced to rubble. During high tide, the sea waves wash away chunks of his house. On a low tide day, like the one when IndiaSpend visited, his home provides a view of the sea that tourists scout the globe for.
Sufi, his wife and young son live with a neighbour. “We have no money to build another home. Where can we go?” he said, with eyes downcast.
“We have no policies directed at rehabilitation and resettlement of people who have lost their land due to sea level rise and coastal erosion,” said Hazra, of Jadavpur University.
Rainfall is usually heavy, and severe cyclonic storms frequent. This area receives 1,501-2,500 mm of rainfall, compared to the Indian average of 801-1,500 mm.
Those who haven’t migrated try to adapt. Shabir Sheikh, 27 and Khushbanoo Bibi, 25, married for 12 years, are constructing a new home for themselves and their three children, on higher ground.
“During floods, the stove gets wet and so we are making sure in the new home it will be higher so flood waters don’t reach it,” Khushbanoo said. Most women here cook in the open, on mud stoves and firewood, which makes it impossible to cook during the floods.
The government is helping by building embankments along the coast to stem the flood waters, and flood shelters to accommodate those affected by floods. There are no long-term policies to help relocate and rehabilitate residents.
Double burden of rehabilitation and poor health in Sundarban
Globally, of the regions in the low lying coastal areas at the risk of flooding, most are underdeveloped or developing.
Nearly a third of the children under the age of five in South-24 Parganas, the district where Mousuni is, are stunted–short for their age. Half of the households still lack modern sanitation facilities and as many six in every 10 women are anaemic. Yet, the district is now having to prioritise infrastructure to deal with climate change.
Depending on the material used to build the embankment, a one-km long section could cost as much as Rs 1 crore. As seas rise, locals plead for the government to build more walls even as they are aware that these are just short term measures against climate change.
Threat to biodiversity
More than 200 species of plants, 400 species of fishes and 300 species of birds, numerous phytoplankton, fungi, bacteria, zooplankton, reptiles, amphibians and more call Sundarban their home. Even within Sundarban, species differ depending on the salinity of the soil. Sundarban is also home to many threatened and endangered animals like the Royal Bengal tiger, estuarine crocodile and the Indian python.
The changing temperature of water and increased salinity and acidity in the soil has already impacted the region’s biodiversity, according to studies by the Marine Science Department of Calcutta University and the Department of Biological Science of the Indian Institute of Science Education and Research in Kolkata.
While the rising sea level impacts biodiversity, experts also blame human activity. “If, for instance, there were no obstructions on the major rivers and flows were not diverted, eroded material would have reached the delta,” said Anurag Danda, senior advisor for Climate Change Adaptation at the World Wildlife Fund.
“Between the Tehri dam (Uttarakhand) and Farraka barrage (Murshidabad, West Bengal), there are at least 1,000 interventions along the Ganges that either divert water or hold water resulting in much reduced sediment delivery,” he explained.
Problems for nature and man will continue to grow as sea levels continue to rise, scientists say. “The question would be not whether it would happen but how quickly it would happen,” Church, co-author of the latest IPCC report, said.
What is the way out for those living along the coastline? Planned retreat to safer places, aided by the government, is the main option, Hazra said. “It will be economically beneficial as a whole rather than keeping people there and rebuilding embankments.”
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