In the reception area of a government building, a security guard greets his colleague. ‘‘How are things?’’ one asks. ‘‘Peaceful,’’ says the other. ‘‘Sounds Gandhian,’’ the first man complains. His friend laughs and says, ‘‘Bolwa maa su jaaye chhe? (What do words cost?)’’Narendra Modi claims there is peace in Gujarat. And he is right. Wander around Ahmedabad and you will see no signs of the frenzied violence that struck the city last year. People go about their business as usual; there is even a return of the city’s characteristically wry humour. Pointing at a large cut-out of Narendra Modi in a largely minority-populated area, a group of passers-by laugh and say: ‘‘He is protecting us.’’ The sarcasm is unmistakable but so is the sense of release. Talk to Amdavadis or even people elsewhere in the state and there is a feeling that whatever political mileage was to be gained by the events of the past year has been achieved and there will be peace till the next elections.Peace, of course, is a relative term. Underneath the relaxed surface is an undercurrent of anxiety. My Muslim taxi driver assumes a Hindu name when passengers ask; the morning’s newspapers report a skirmish between a group of religious devotees and a snack vendor who refused to pay them a donation. Middle-class Hindus have become cautious of venturing into certain areas in a city that was once considered the safest in the country. And Muslims confess to stressing over the possibility that any minor incident in a crowded locality — a cyclist brushing against a child, for instance — could take a violent turn.‘‘After Godhra and the propaganda by the BJP, VHP and Bajrang Dal about retaliation, it was difficult even for us local leaders to talk to each other,’’ says Aziz Gandhi, Muslim member of Dariapur’s peace committee in Ahmedabad. ‘‘A deep schism has formed between the two communities which will take a long time to heal.’’ At the moment there appears to be little movement in that direction. The most palpable feeling that hits an outsider is the blatant sense of vindication among many Gujarati Hindus.ALOK KUMAR (not his real name) is a 41-year-old dyestuff exporter. Dressed in jeans and leather shoes with paan-stained teeth and a mobile phone that rings incessantly and shrilly, he is the picture of success. He is a small-built voluble man and willing to expound on his theory of events of the past year being a politically opportunistic drama with Modi as the main player and Godhra the ‘magic stick’. His office stayed shut for eight weeks during last year’s disturbances but the financial cost does not bother him. ‘‘It was time to teach the other community a lesson,’’ he says. ‘‘For years they have been controlling us, now they have to learn to behave as a minority.’’Kamlesh Desai, a chemicals trader, on the other hand, claims to have been totally unaffected by the disturbances in the city. ‘‘I did not lose a day’s work,’’ he says, ‘‘there was nothing much, it is all a media creation. Gujarat is not like that, it is peaceful.’’ But, sitting back in his large, gloomy office he adds a warning, ‘‘If you do favouritism. till now Hindus have let go, this time they were not willing.’’The sentiments expressed by Kumar and Desai are fairly typical. The motif of a suppressed community asserting itself is a recurring one and hints at deep-rooted feelings of emasculation among the majority community. Take for instance the latest macabre joke doing the rounds about Hindus getting around their ‘fear’ of shedding blood by resorting to burning, having burnt their women down the ages. The crassness is pervasive. A current teaser campaign for instance, says: ‘Have chaal se Ahmedabad ma aapni marji (Now in Ahmedabad will run our writ)’. Even if the product advertised turns out to be innocuous, the timing could not have been more suspect.The rancour is not evenly spread. In dusty Saurashtra, an insurance agent confesses to feeling saddened by the post-Godhra ‘‘retaliation against innocents’’. In the sleepy town of Jorawarnagar, Manjulaben Raval, a BJP member married to a Congressman, says firmly, ‘‘Here we believe in bhaichaara between communities.’’ These views, however, are expressed discreetly, even fearfully. The fear is understandable. Feelings run deep; long friendships have turned into enmity over the subject. And this is perhaps what the long series of events — starting from the burning train in Godhra to Modi’s triumphant victory in the last state polls — has achieved: It has brought sectarian feelings bubbling to the surface. There is a pride now in expressing openly the prejudices people might have whispered about in private.MUCH HAS BEEN written about Gujarat as a laboratory for the Hindutva experiment and the manner in which the communal equation has been brought to centrestage in the Hindu voter’s mind does point to a sustained campaign. Parallels with the Congress’s anti-Sikh campaign in 1984 or even the Shiv Sena-BJP’s win following the 1993 riots in Mumbai are misleading for the divisive campaign is not only more blatant in Gujarat — in the recent municipal elections for instance, the Vishwa Hindu Parishad distributed leaflets identifying candidates by community and asking Hindus to vote for Hindu candidates — but it does not have the air of a one-time emotional upsurge. As a journalist quips, ‘‘Modi has got a permanent bank account, he just has to keep signing cheques.’’Why the western state has lent itself so successfully to this experiment needs an in-depth study. But the changing socio-economic profile of Ahmedabad offers some explanations.In the past, civic leadership in the textile city was in the hands of the wealthy and the socially consciousness. With the emergence of electoral politics and the fragmentation of the textile industry, the influence of the big families diminished. Populist leaders emerged as also a vigorous, upwardly mobile middle-class. On Ahmedabad’s C G Road, one can see evidence of modernisation and high-level consumption. Religion has also become big business with preachers such as Asaram Bapu, Murari Bapu and a myriad others drawing crowds of thousands. At the same time, for a progressive state, there is a strong apathy for rules, even traffic rules. An uneasy relationship with ethics is one of the factors observers point to in relation to the state’s recent troubles.ON ONE SIDE of the new highway heading towards Limbdi are the ghosts of shops owned by Chellia Muslims and destroyed in last year’s violence. On the other side, one can see herds of cattle drifting eastwards. Bulabhai Devabhai for instance, has trudged the 100-odd km from his village, Dadhodiya with his flock — 500 animals, 50 people — in search of water and fodder. ‘‘The situation is very bad at home,’’ he says,, ‘‘no neta will do anything, god is our only hope.’’At the Pradesh Congress office, party spokesperson Hasmukh Patel expresses the belief that emotions are short-lived and eventually economic issues will regain their significance in the electorate’s mind. At present, though, there seems little to support his optimism. Kamlesh Desai expresses concern that a reputation for trouble might keep outsiders away. And clearly the CM shares this concern. Much of Modi’s present efforts appear to be aimed at damage control. If the recent workshop on effective governance at IIM-A serves to spruce up his image as a progressive administrator, the chorus of support from local industrialists is a battle cry for the state.At home, however, the CM has much to cheer him. His personal popularity seems unassailable with most regarding him as non-corrupt and a man of action. Though his extreme reaction to awkward questions by industrialists at a CII meet and the cutting down of a bus service for pressmen to Gandhinagar are seen as typical examples of his distaste for criticism, his ministers are in awe of him; Gujarat’s leading newspapers are supportive; the main opposition party is ‘waiting’; civil libertarians, hushed by the popular mood, prefer to go about their work quietly. In fact, the one quality absent in the state that spawned the 1974 Navnirman movement, widely perceived as democratic India’s first expression against authoritarianism, these days appears to be dissent.
