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By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Street Circus

The NEET-UG paper leak was a genuine grievance. Millions of students who spent years preparing for one of India’s toughest examinations deserved answers, accountability and justice. But what unfolded at Jantar Mantar was no movement for educational reform. It was a spectacle of rage, abuse and performative rebellion that often appeared more interested in viral clips than viable solutions. The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), which claimed to represent the anger of students, ended up exposing...

Street Circus

The NEET-UG paper leak was a genuine grievance. Millions of students who spent years preparing for one of India’s toughest examinations deserved answers, accountability and justice. But what unfolded at Jantar Mantar was no movement for educational reform. It was a spectacle of rage, abuse and performative rebellion that often appeared more interested in viral clips than viable solutions. The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), which claimed to represent the anger of students, ended up exposing itself, revealing itself to promote a culture of outrage without responsibility and more troubling, have aspersions cast on its funding sources. Besides the fact that just how many of those gathered were afflicted NEET students, the ugliest part of the protest was the language. Videos from Jantar Mantar showed protesters hurling the most obscene and personal abuses at Prime Minister Narendra Modi. One can dislike the PM or oppose his policies, reducing political disagreement to filthy personal abuse against an elected Prime Minister is gross cowardice and at the basic level, a sheer failure of basic civic etiquette. No entity cannot claim to be fighting for the dignity of students while abandoning all standards of dignity in public discourse. The irony was impossible to miss. A section of this self-proclaimed progressive generation speaks constantly about equality, feminism, tolerance and justice. Yet the very same voices displayed extraordinary intolerance towards anyone they decided was an enemy. Journalists were targeted, political opponents were dehumanised and anyone carrying a different opinion was casually branded with labels designed to silence rather than debate. Social media has created a dangerous illusion among many young activists that a viral video is a victory, and that shouting louder is the same as achieving something. A few Instagram reels, borrowed revolutionary imagery and slogans can create the appearance of rebellion. But governing a country and reforming institutions and fixing broken systems require far more than theatrical anger. The government, however, cannot escape responsibility either. The crisis was allowed to grow because of delayed communication and inadequate political management. A prompt response, transparent investigation and early intervention could have prevented a limited controversy from becoming a national embarrassment. Instead, the government was forced into damage control, and Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, a capable minister, became the political casualty. For the citizens, it was a colossal waste of time. After weeks of noise, confrontation and disruption, the students gained little. The examination system remains under scrutiny and larger problems remain unresolved. The only visible outcome is the removal of a minister. A protest that begins with a genuine grievance but ends as a contest of abuse and attention-seeking has not strengthened democracy. It has weakened the very standards it claims to defend.

Face of Accountability in 1992-1993 Riots

Abdul Sattar Suleman Mithaiwala – the soft-spoken yet steely owner of the popular sweetmeat shop and a bakery on Mohammed Ali Road, passed away in the wee hours of Monday.

 

‘Sattarbhai’ – as he was known to all - was 79, and remained a friendly and familiar bearded figure in his tiny office behind the sweetmeat shop where he met visitors, lawyers, journalists and cops.

 

After all, he was one of the most identifiable faces connected with the dual riots that rocked Mumbai – first in Dec. 1992 and then in Jan. 1993 – in the aftermath of the razing of the contentious Babri Masjid in Ayodhya on Dec. 6, 1992 – a painful chapter that is now practically erased from history.

 

Sattarbhai’s entry into the riots case came when a massive tragedy took place in his Suleman Bakery on January 9, 1993 – changing his life forever.

 

Acting on a tip-off of alleged firing from the bakery premises, a police team led by then Joint Commissioner of Police R. D. Tyagi rushed there and surrounded the building. In the stormy operation that followed, at least eight unarmed men, mostly bakery workers living inside the bakery were killed, triggering national outrage.

 

Undaunted by the catastrophe taking place in his own premises, Sattar decided to pursue the case with dogged determination, silent courage and fighting all pressures.

 

The tragedy that defined his life happened during the second phase of the bloody communal riots that ravaged Mumbai after the Babri Mosque was felled.

 

Acting on reports of alleged firing from the bakery premises, a police team led by Tyagi stormed the building. In the operation that followed, eight unarmed men inside the bakery were killed, triggering national outrage.

 

The Suleman Bakery firing catapulted into one of the most high-profile, and controversial incidents of the 1992-1993 riots – though it was not the only one. The reason was the alleged perpetrators were policemen and the victims were ordinary unarmed civilians trapped inside their workplace.

 

At the time when the country’s commercial capital was engulfed in a communal conflagration for weeks, this case raised questions over bias, use of excessive force and willy-nilly state complicity. As Justice B. N. Srikrishna Commission later noted how the police version “did not inspire credence”, making the tragedy a symbol of institutional failure.

 

Public Memory

As Mumbai bore the brunt of the riots with lumpens ruling the streets for weeks, the Suleman Bakery case became a rare one where accountability was directly sought from the police and the government – remaining etched in public memory since then.

 

Coupled with the Radhabai Chawl killings or police firing instances in different parts of the city, doubts were raised in public minds whether the violence was sporadic and spontaneous or was probably enabled and encouraged by those in power, as more than 900 deaths and 2000-plus injuries were recorded. Later, the city was scarred  by the serial blasts on March 12, 1993, with more deaths, destruction and social devastation.

 

Sattarbhai followed up his quest for justice diligently, but over time, it appeared to be fizzling out, 18 cops were booked of whom Tyagi and nine others were discharged in 2003 for lack of evidence, two died during the trial and only four still face the legal proceedings.

 

Even at the age of 75, Sattarbhai came to the court in a wheelchair, but later declared a ‘hostile witness’ as he could not remember certain crucial details of that night. Privately, he became cynical, even admitted to pressures from different quarters, first labelled as a suspect and then even blamed for the bakery incident itself – saying his confidence was shaken.

 

Bakery Carnage

The Suleman Bakery firing occurred at the height of one of Mumbai’s darkest chapters – the bloody riots of December 1992–January 1993 riots - triggered by the demolition of the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya, and left over 900 people dead across the city.

 

After an uneasy lull in December 1992, tensions escalated again in early January 1993 following a series of killings in south Mumbai, including that of a Mathadi worker in Pydhonie, which were given a communal colour.

 

On January 9, police claimed that they got reports of some shady activities in the bakery and a team stormed there, leaving at least eight unarmed workers dead. After a massive furore, tough investigations, and a judicial probe by Justice B. N. Srikrishna Commission, raised haunting questions on the police role, and remained unanswered.

 

Over time, the Suleman Bakery case symbolised a deep communal chasm of that period, the long struggle for accountability in riot-related violence, particularly from the law-enforcers, and Sattarbhai stood as a solitary torchbearer of that valiant effort.

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