A Town in Maharashtra

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Malegaon in recent decades has been classified in administrative parlance as “a sensitive, communally volatile town”. To give credence to this blanket classification, the town’s history of communal violence since 1963 has been cited, with riots sparked off by localised events that created acrimony between communities. So it was in 1963 and 1984, when festival processions spiralled into violence; in 1992, following the demolition of the Babri masjid in Ayodhya, and more recently in 2001. In 2001, protests calling for a boycott of American goods soon after US-led forces invaded the then Taliban-ruled Afghanistan spiralled into communal riots. But a Peoples’ Union of Civil Liberties report established the exact sequence of events: the disproportionate police firing on demonstrators, rival politicians inciting their respective groups of supporters and retaliation by each of the two major communities in the town. Nevertheless, a few stray facts – of the initial protests against the US invasion and that a majority of the residents comprised low and middle class Muslims – earmarked Malegaon as the quintessential “terror town”. A dubious distinction, which, for a town known also for its powerloom industry and its indigenous local video productions, soon gained wide currency. Malegaon was also the proverbial “ghetto” town, where the communities lived, divided by the Mausam river, in sullen togetherness. The stigma thus accorded to Malegaon meant that the town, only 225 km from Mumbai, was relegated to the sidelines of development. The lack of planned infrastructure development is reflected in the all-pervasive urban chaos; in the poorly functioning powerlooms and its ill-paid labour force; the absence of a quality public hospital and literacy levels at 56 per cent that are far below the state’s average of 79 per cent.

When terror recently visited Malegaon, the reactions from above were predictable and the inevitable was expected. “Tight security” and “curfew” were imposed, there followed the hasty descent of the police, paramilitary and the politicians into the town and the “usual suspects” were blamed, but the town itself, after an initial two hours of sporadic violence directed at the police, settled down to an uneasy calm. As subsequent events in Malegaon showed, the town and its citizens took the responsibility for their own recovery.

The reaction from below, led by community leaders and responsible civic officials, held Malegaon’s peace. The mistakes of the past had been learnt, though a simmering tension continued to prevail. In 2001, Malegaon suffered heavy economic losses as the powerloom industry depends on the economic cooperation of both communities – the Hindus as the suppliers of yarn and the buyers while Muslim make up the bulk of the powerloom operators and weavers. Possibly, there is also some wisening up to the politicians’ ways. In 2001, the impending municipal elections had led to bitter clashes between supporters of Nihal Ahmed of the Janata Dal (United) and the Congress’ Sheikh Rashid. The promises made after the riots, of a hospital and an industrial zone for the powerloom sector by the chief minister, Vilasrao Deshmukh, remain on paper. As Malegaon’s angry citizens have now demanded, the only adequate response from the government lies not in bulk compensatory payments but in implementation of old promises.

Malegaon’s demographic and locational characteristics make it appear an “easy” target – for terrorists and for politicians seeking a convenient support base. Burdened by too many unhappy cliches, it is the response of Malegaon’s citizens to the terror strike in their midst that may yet set a new example: A citizenry that relies on its own history, its needs and abilities to aid its recovery. EPW

Economic and Political Weekly September 16, 2006