Book Review: When a Tree Shook Delhi (The 1984 Carnage and Its Aftermath)
The massacre of Sikhs in 1984 after the assassination of then-Prime Minister Indira Gandhi has been well documented, but has it received the kind of media attention it deserves?
Prominent advocate HS Phoolka and journalist Manoj Mitta have written a heart-wrenching account of the massacre and the events that followed, in their book “When a Tree Shook Delhi”.
Phoolka has fought for justice for Sikh victims of the carnage since the very time it began. The book he has written with Mitta is divided into two parts — the first is an account of the tragedy itself, which unfolded over the last day of October 1984 and the first three days of November. The second part is an account of the efforts made by Phoolka and many other advocates, jurists and activists to bring the guilty to book. Given the lethargy of the Indian justice system and the compromises it has made with politicians, this struggle continues over three decades after the carnage.
Like any other account of large scale violence in India, the book is a horrifying account of how the police deliberately looked the other way while fanatics and opportunists alike murdered 3,000 innocent Sikhs in Delhi. However, it was not merely that the police looked the other way — they were complicit in the violence, nay, they took part in it by disarming Sikhs who were defending themselves and then letting the mobs kill them.
The other shocking aspect of the massacre is often spoken about — as to how such a carnage could have been inflicted in India’s capital. But as the book shows, the worst excesses in the beginning on that grim period were not exacted merely in India’s capital, but right in its heart, in the areas surrounding Parliament, in Lutyens Delhi.
However, it is the third aspect of the massacre that must be highlighted — because it is the feature that has been (conveniently) most hidden. This is the public participation, nay, leadership of Congress legislators in the massacre. HS Phoolka and Manoj Mitta have cobbled together enough evidence, not just in court but also in the book, to show that Congress leaders actively led the mobs, and perhaps their acolytes controlled the police from the safety of their offices.
But it is the book’s title — When a Tree Shook Delhi — that points to the culpability of the highest echelons of the Indian government in the carnage. The reference of course, is to (new) Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi’s remark that “when a big tree falls, the earth is bound to shake a little”. This can be seen as nothing but a justification of the massacre — that since a mass leader like Indira Gandhi had been killed, violence was bound to happen. That Rajiv Gandhi should have resigned on making this statement is common sense to most enlightened Indians, or it should be. But unfortunately, and predictably, nothing of the sort ever happened.
However, I had previously erroneously believed that Rajiv Gandhi made this remark when the fire had just begun to rage in Delhi — indeed, I thought he made it on October 31, the day of Indira Gandhi’s murder and the same day the violence began — rather than over two weeks later, when the violence had subsided but the evidence of a carnage was out in the open. This makes Rajiv Gandhi’s statement not merely insensitive but positively evil.
There is of course, a context to this statement. It was made in the heat of the 1984 election campaign, when the Congress hoped to use Indira Gandhi’s name to secure votes. This means the Congress had openly backed the massacre of a religious community — a minority no less — to enable itself to return to power. And return to power it did, with 404 seats — more than even Jawaharlal Nehru had ever managed to secure during the three elections he faced as prime minister.
If Rajiv Gandhi’s statement was not blatantly communal, the word communal should lose its meaning. What was hypocritical was that the statement was made by the prime minister of a party which proudly calls itself secular. But there is no way in which the massacre, orchestrated by Congress leaders, and Rajiv Gandhi’s statement, could be understood in a secular context. There was nothing secular about the Congress and its topmost leader during those torturous final months of 1984. In fact, 1984 precipitated the event that has, or should have, shattered the myth of the Congress’ secularism once and for all.
However, the myth has never quite been shattered. When anti-Muslim violence took 2,000 lives in Gujarat in 2002, the Congress began a serious campaign against the Bharatiya Janata Party, then-chief minister of Gujarat Narendra Modi, and the BJP-led government at the Centre. Once again, perhaps more than ever, it pitched itself as the secular party against the BJP’s Hindutva majoritarianism — and succeeded, because the national media and enlightened citizens failed to point out 1984 with enough grit.
Put it this way — if Narendra Modi should never have been India’s prime minister because of his alleged complicity in the 2002 riots, or because of his distasteful statements that year, Rajiv Gandhi should have stepped down the moment he made his infamous remark, and the Congress should have vigorously prosecuted the leaders who instigated the mobs in 1984. The Congress should also not have elevated these leaders to high positions and given them poll tickets thereafter.
Of course, none of this happened and the Congress remains happy that it does not get the attention it deserves.
It was a happy day last year when (now former) Congress leader Sajjan Kumar was convicted and sentenced to life in prison by the Delhi High Court for his role in the massacre. Another villain — HKL Bhagat — died before the tortoise that is the Indian justice system could catch up to him. A third leader, Jagdish Tytler, who is alleged to have taken on leadership roles during the 1984 carnage, still remains out of the dock, though mercifully no longer in positions of power in the Congress.
A fourth accused, Kamal Nath, was last December appointed chief minister of Madhya Pradesh when the Congress managed to win power in the state. Congress chief Rahul Gandhi elevated Nath, despite the allegations against him, and despite the fact that other and younger leaders, like Jyotiraditya Scindia, could have taken over the reins in the state. What does this say of the Congress’ secularism?
Also, why did the BJP, which has been on a mission to expose decades of “misrule” by the Congress party and counter its claimed secularism, not agitate against the elevation of Nath with any vigour? Why did the English news media not raise a hue and cry, even those which are firmly pro-BJP these days?
Returning to the book, one is disgusted at the innumerable attempts by the Indian government (mostly Congress-led) to scuttle any meaningful probe into the violence over the years. Commissions after commissions were formed, but whenever any of them attempted to do any good work, they were promptly disbanded or the members changed.
Incredibly, the prime minister who showed the most interest in bringing the guilty to book was Chandra Shekhar, whose government was absolutely dependent on the support of the Congress to stay in power in 1990–91. This shows that politicians, if they preserve integrity, can overcome political compulsions to provide justice. Tragically, Chandra Shekhar was in power for just eight months, followed by the Congress government of Narasimha Rao.
The book also alleges that parts of the judiciary, including a Supreme Court judge, appeared less than fully committed to delivering justice to the victims. This is an indictment of the highest echelons of the judiciary, but it should not shock most Indians.
Overall, this book is a much-needed introduction to the anti-Sikh riots of 1984 and the farcical proceedings that followed to deliver justice to the victims. It should be read by as many people as possible. While Sajjan Kumar’s conviction should be welcomed, there are more villains out there, and much more needs to be done by India’s legal system before we can say that the victims have truly received a measure of justice.
