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Edited copy of this article was published in the OPEN Magazine, Dec 25-31, 2013 edition


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From Bharuch, Gujarat:


“There is going to be a speech,” observed one of the three youths outside the mosque doors, leaning against his Hero Honda. In lane adjacent to the mosque, plastic chairs were being arranged in two rows facing each other. The youth stole a look at the tea that the local vendor had sponsored for the gathering, gulping it down in one swift motion from what looked like a thimble-sized cup. Though unsure of why the village square was abuzz, the trio hung back.

The evening on December 2 wasn’t typical of Nabipur, a village in Bharuch district of Gujarat. The fleeting chill of November had receded for a brief while, gearing up for a much stronger return. As people emerged out of the mosque after their last namaaz for the day, few made way for their homes. They waited in clumps of twos and threes in the narrow alleys around the mosque, the bigger of the two in the hamlet with a Muslim majority.

At the heart of the hubbub, Haji Dilawar Yakub, resident of Bharuch city, readied himself for the much-rehearsed speech. Even as he smiled through the empty courtesies with the village elders, 48-year-old Dilawar was painfully conscious of the fact that the word of the event hadn’t knocked many doors. It was one of the meetings that were hastily put together on the last minute, a let-down after the previous day when a crowd of over 2,000 had gathered at Valan village chowk.

At around 8.20 pm, his associate Ibrahim Baji took to the narrow space between the rows of chairs and cleared his throat. Slowly, a hush enveloped the crowd consisting of a hundred odd men to accommodate Baji’s sombre address. A woman in a hijab emerged along with her daughter from the balcony overlooking the street. Mohalla shopkeepers peered from between the curtains of shampoo sachets and chips’ packets or leaned over their counter for a better view. As the adults stood in rapt attention, their children grew increasingly restless and started shifting weight from one foot to the other.

“Friends, we know of what happened in Sansrod village on Eid,” said Ibrahim, referring to the communal scuffles triggered by an episode of cow slaughter in the village 13 kilometres down the highway that links the two villages. “We are here to ensure that such incidents don’t happen again.”

A day after the incident, every newspaper had carried reports of a violent mob clashing with an armed police. The reports had seared disturbing images in Dilawar’s mind. Unable to quell his unease, he had rung up some of his friends and acquaintances who decided to examine the tensions at its source. At Sansrod, an eerie silence waited for them the next day. Policemen stalked the streets, knocking on every door, demanding answers and explanations. Several men had fled the village, they were told, and their wives and children were refusing to open doors.

“There is a chapter in Macbeth,” Dilawar told me later, referring to the Shakespearean tragedy. 
“It’s called ‘Coming Events Cast their Shadows Before’. In the days leading to Eid, I had felt increasingly anxious at the reports of Muslims transporting cattle getting harassed by gaurakshaks (cow-protectors). After coming back to Bharuch, we decided that there was only one way to end the constant harassment.” On October 26, after numerous discussions and deliberations, they formed Gau Hifazat Samiti with Dilawar at the helm. Ever since, they have been hopping villages and educating people about the consequences of cow slaughter. The 15 person strong team consists entirely of Muslims, the community frequently chastised for indulgence in cow slaughter for religious reasons.

From their first ever session in Pariej village of Bharuch, the members have come a long way. In their 37th session in Nabipur, it was Baji who went first, introducing himself and the fellow members of the committee: Mushtaq Gaurji, Maulvi Lukman Bhutia and the President of the committee. Theirs was a one point agenda, he said – to promote religious harmony and peaceful coexistence between both Hindus and Muslims.

“You cannot please Allah by hurting those around you. Hindus consider cow a holy animal. Even if we don’t sacrifice a cow, we have alternatives in goats and buffaloes. All we say is, don’t eat, don’t sell and don’t slaughter,” said Dilawar as he wrapped up the meeting after about 50 minutes. “Now I would like to know what you think about this.”  


***


This collage of pictures, claimed to have been taken after the Sansrod incident, is made by DeshGujarat.com. The website, in turn, claims to have taken these images from a local Gujarati newspaper


Two months earlier, on the morning of October 16, a loudspeaker mounted on the top of a minaret in Sansrod sprang to life. The clerics of the only mosque in the village in Vadodara district had begun their Eid-ul-Adha prayers. Being a Muslim dominated village, the festive vibe was all-pervading. The residents, decked up in their finest clothes, were gearing up for the traditional meat feast. Not far from the mosque, off the mouth of the lane leading to Sansrod, a slaughter house was getting ready for ‘qurbani’, the ritual sacrifice in commemoration of Prophet Ibrahim's own.

Roughly 20 kilometres from Sansrod, in a part of Karjan taluka, the situation was more frenzied. In the courtyard of the local police station, about 40 policemen were readying themselves for a raid. Out came the jeeps and out came the lathis. Soon, two teams led by with 24 armed men were cruising down National Highway 8 in the direction of Sansrod. Tailing those vehicles was Jatin Vyas, a self-appointed gorakhsak (cow protector) and a part of the religious organization Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP).

The team reached the village around 9.30 am. The policemen marched straight to the slaughterhouse. They didn’t have to look too hard for what they were tipped off about. At the entrance lay carcasses of two calves, entrails et al, blood-soaked soil bearing testimony to a violation of the state law banning cow slaughter. The men went straight in and took the guilty butchers into custody.

What followed, according to newspaper reports, was a livid mob had clashed with the cops, six of whom were injured even as one of the vehicles was torched. At the end of the mayhem, 125 villagers were booked for rioting and 76 cows, as it was claimed, were rescued. The village was combed for the next couple of days for troublemakers. In the official version of events, the defiance of locals would appear to be the cause of violence.

Narratives differ depending on who you speak to. Karjan circle police inspector (CPI) Sudarshansingh Vala told me that the police took utmost caution not to injure anyone even as the villagers attacked them with ploughs and swords. However, consensus can be established among all quarters till the point the policemen took butchers into custody.

“Things soured when the mob spotted Vyas,” said Abdul Quiyum. The slight, elderly Quiyum, known as ‘Masterji’ in his part of town, is the general secretary of Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind, a religious organisation that works towards the welfare of Muslims. Sansrod is bang opposite Palej, the town he lives in.

“When the police reached the slaughterhouse, the policemen dragged the butchers out and rained lathis on them. At this time, a few villagers who were returning to their houses happened to see this. They moved closer to take a stock of the situation. The police doled out a few blows to them too,” said Quiyum. As the tempers flared, an alert villager from Sansrod informed Quiyum. Within minutes, he had kicked his motorcycle to life and rushed to the village.

That cows were slaughtered was nothing new for the villagers, claims Quiyum. But when the police started beating the civilians, it had an instant alienating effect. Word spread that the policemen were roughing up even the innocents. Eid celebration was replaced by simmering anger and a mob gathered at the place. With the sensitivity of a troll, the police lobbed tear gas shells to disperse the mob. But the situation was already out of hand. The mob had realized who had orchestrated the raid.

“A few days earlier, Vyas had himself sold about 160 cows to the butchers. People know of his reputation. That’s the strategy among gorakshaks – to make money and target Muslims at the same time. On one hand, he makes deals sitting in an auto on the highway and then comes to ruin our festival citing cow slaughter,” Quiyum echoed the sentiment fuming in the air.

The folder he had handed me contained numerous letters he has written to various governmental authorities and law-enforcing agencies of the state and the Centre. The letters are rife with incidents quoting the harassment of Muslims on the pretext of cow slaughter, the involvement of gorakshaks and Hindu right-wing organizations like Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) and Bajrang Dal in promoting cow slaughter. 


***


Time and again, the practice of cow slaughter has been used to rake up communal sentiments across India. The appeal transcends class and caste barriers, instantly leading to formation of two warring factions: vulnerable Hindus vs anti-social elements, implying, in more cases than not, Muslims. Now eyeing the Prime Ministerial post, the reigning CM of Gujarat Narendra Modi has frequently revisited the issue over the years. Whether it is BJP rallies in Mangalore in May, Nandgaon of Rajasthan and Khandwa of Madhya Pradesh in November or his home-base Gandhinagar in February, the battle-cries ring similar: of Congress (a party frequently accused of minority appeasement by BJP) promoting ‘pink revolution’.

For Modi, it’s only ideological homecoming. When it comes to crusading against cow slaughter, Gujarat has always had a chip on its shoulder. Right from 1954, the state has had a complete ban on the slaughter of cow and its progeny under Gujarat Animal Preservation Act. In August 2011, members of Maldhari community staged massive protests on the grounds of illegal cow slaughter taking place across the state. An indigenous tribe in Gujarat, Maldharis – literally, ‘owners of livestock’ – had then alleged that the culling took place in cahoots with the police. After two months of relentless agitations, the Act was amended in October to include a ban on transportation of animals for slaughter. A six month jail term was increased to seven years and the fine was increased by fifty times up to Rs. 50,000, applicable as per the gravity of offence. This, in spite of beef being the largest consumed meat in India, as a study conducted by United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation shows.

In spite of the law giving more teeth to the administration, it had little impact on the incidents of cow slaughter. “Nobody is really interested in cow protection,” Ram Puniyani, a prominent human rights activist, told me over the phone in early December. “Organizations like VHP and Bajrang Dal try to extort money in the name of go-raksha. When the law was passed, religion was only used as a pretext. There were a range of political and economic reasons behind it. In fact, Gujarat hasn’t showed any reduction in incidents of cow slaughter than any other Indian state.”

Puniyani, who has extensively researched and written about the issue, said that there have also been instances where dead cows have been picked up and Muslims have been accused of bovicide. Often, polarisation is done through word-of-mouth propaganda or through pamphlets. 

“It’s a case of vote-bank politics. Most of the gaushalas (cow shelters) across the country are ill-equipped. A person running a gaushala once told me how several of such shelters themselves give away the cows they cannot accommodate. But the communal forces only target Muslims. As a result, they are always on the defensive,” he said.


A scrap dealer by profession, Jatin Vyas comes with a chequered past. Accused in a couple of cases of extortion and kidnapping, he is best known among those I spoke to in context of a similar high-profile incident of cow slaughter. Back then, the place was Tankaria and the year 2002; three days shy of Godhra riots. The common thread in both occasions: Vyas had acted on the eve of Eid.

“Before you ask me anything, tell me, are you going to take a positive angle or negative angle?” Vyas asked me over the phone in the third week of November. I had only introduced myself and the scope of the article. “I ask because people speak to butchers and print wrong things,” he said, citing a regional newspaper that is known to do so.

Based in Vadodara, Vyas has been active in the field since past 15 years. Gaurakhsa is a voluntary activity without any legal recognized or an umbrella organization, though many of them hail from right-wing groups like VHP and Bajrang Dal. Vyas calls their actions as those done out of goodness of heart. Most of the vehicles carrying animals come from Rajasthan. Ergo, most of the crackdowns take place on the highways along the state border. It’s a common practice among the volunteers to inform the police about the leads they get and accompany them to the spot, claims Vyas. This is ostentatiously done so that the rescued animals can be escorted to animal shelters, locally called panjrapols. Vyas refused to discuss his informers, referring those who had given him the heads up in Sansrod as, “They were just some nice Muslims from Sansrod.”

“The police stop the trucks we have been informed about. Almost always, we find that there are some 20-40 cows stacked together in these vehicles.”

“But how do you know they are being carried for slaughter?”

“But this is still a case of animal cruelty. Then we ask the drivers if they are taking them to qatalkhana (slaughterhouse). They say, yes. That’s how we know.”

I expressed my disbelief at the simplicity of the exercise. “Try coming to the field and you will know,” he replied.

Vyas denied any possibility of their being any racket with police, cow shelters and gaurakshaks being hand-in-glove, calling it a tactic of maligning those working for the cause. “There might be corruption in other areas but there just cannot be any when it comes to cows. A cow is a mother,” he reasoned.

For all his denials, numerous locals and activists say that the modus operandi of the racket is “common knowledge”, even if few efforts have been made so far to document it.

“I have received numerous complaints from activists about the gorakshaks being involved in such incidents. While the investigations are ongoing, the application has been filed based on hearsay. With Jatin Vyas, we are taking his criminal past into consideration,” DSP Sandip Singh, who manages the rural Vadodara, told me in December over the phone. He added that the complainants, however, didn't have any proofs to back their claims.

Singh has acted upon numerous cases of cow slaughter over the years. He stated that the number of cases filed about cow slaughter has showed significant decrease in the recent times. “One of the reasons that such incidents take place is the ignorance of the law. Those involved are mostly from the lower middle class. Their livelihood is based completely from such activities. So when there is a crackdown, they oppose it,” he said. Singh denied any knowledge of gorakshaks or cow-shelters being involved in facilitating the racket.


***




Haji Dilawar Yakub (centre), the President of Gau Hifazat Samiti, with his associates Lukman Bhuta (L) and Mehmoob Master (R)


Located on the banks of the river Narmada, Bharuch is the neighbouring district to Vadodara. The heavily industrialized city, famous for its salted peanuts, houses a population of over 4 lakh. Near the outskirts of the city, in nondescript building located at a particularly noisy railway intersection, Yakub runs his scaffolding business.

When I met him for the first time in the third week of November, he was waiting for me with four other members of the committee. His associates – middle aged men are mostly from the city and neighbouring villages – were all dressed in the traditional attire of skullcaps and kurta-pyjama in varying degrees of white. There are professionals, engaged in insurance companies, municipal schools and other jobs. They let Yakub do most of the talking, with a nod or a murmur of assent every now and then. An engineer by qualification, Yakub is visually impaired, although that does not keep him from reading and occasionally quoting a shayari or Shakespeare to make a point. 

“It’s no secret. In Gujarat, the ban on cow slaughter is only as effective as the liquor ban,” he said. 

“This issue remains pertinent because no matter which quarter supplies cows for slaughter, there is always a Muslim at the end of the supply chain. The community of butchers are almost all Muslims. Our religion regards beef of cow as halal (fit for consumption), so there is always a market among our community.”

The economics of owning cows and bullocks (from the cow family) has become knotty since the Green Revolution. The cattle-owing class has always been farmers who used cows for milk and bullocks for transport and tilling their lands. As tractors and trucks started intruding in the space traditionally held by animals, bullocks started getting redundant. Over time, slaughterhouses remained the only place raising a bullock would promise any returns.

Locals say there is more to the incidents of cow slaughter than blatant disregard of the law. In a visit to Panoli, 36-year-old farmer Hanif Haslot told me that it’s a simple case of economics. Muslims are under a religious obligation to sacrifice an animal for Eid. In Gujarat, the standard practice is to sacrifice a goat, a bullock or a buffalo. Since cow slaughter is outlawed, the demand for other animals shoots up, leading to shortage and high prices.

“During Eid, goat meat is available for Rs.400/kg. On the other hand, bullock and buffalo meat come at Rs. 120/kg. You have to pick between breaking the law of the state and breaking the codes of religion. It’s not always an easy choice,” said Haslot.

Panoli was one of the villages covered by the Samiti in the latter half of November. However, that session, like each of the 36 sessions held in various parts of Bharuch, Surat and Vadodara district, didn’t involve discussions about the racket or the economics. Nevertheless, the locals I spoke to were extremely suspicious about my intentions, hesitant to speak of what has always been said in whispers.

“Besides, that’s not the point of the sessions,” said Yakub. “The racket is an area of common knowledge but we don’t have any evidence to prove it. We tell people what they should do, what they shouldn’t and why it is for their own good.”

I asked if they have ever tried to make efforts to get any more evidence than verbal testimonies.

Yakub gave me a wry smile. “Mera munshi bhi qatil hai, kya faisla dega woh mujhe?


***



As Dilawar finished his address with an open ended invitation, the crowd burst into an enthusiastic applause. The sarpanch seated in the last row stood up. “If it happens, we will make sure that we call the police to take him away.” Another round of applause followed along with several murmurs of agreement, this time waking up the only person from the front row who hadn’t raised his hand.

A day after the session, we are at his office again discussing the previous night and the way ahead. I ask him about sentiments palpable in the audiences he addresses.“The main problem is that Muslims are still afraid,” he says, “those who aren’t guilty, even more so, for they fear they might be picked up for something that wasn’t their fault to begin with.”
“Every now and then, people walk up to us and congratulate us for the message we are trying to spread. Often, they come from neighbouring villages and want us to come to theirs. We tell them it’s not possible for us to visit each and every settlement. When we go to a place, we expect those in attendance to tell ten more people, till it becomes a movement and Gujarat becomes a model state.”
  

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