bout de papier, Vol. 4, No. 3 (1986) — Fall 1986 // Automne 1986, p. 35
by David Edwards
Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi was assassinated on October 31, 1984. The following tale recounts one event that happened in New Delhi in the days that followed.
We had left the High Commission in the early afternoon to drive to Shastri Bhawan, a government office building near the Indian Parliament, in order to check on the press arrangements for the funeral which was scheduled for November 3. The violence and arson which had started in Delhi the night previously was by this time in full swing. Our car travelled along Shantipath, through the diplomatic enclave, and then along Aurangzeb Road. All shops and market areas were closed and shuttered and there were only a few vehicles left driving on the road. Once we were out of the diplomatic enclave, we could see groups of people manning various makeshift barricades along the way – usually consisting of a dozen to 20 people armed with iron bars or sticks – intent on revenge. Most were young men in their twenties but there were also some children wielding sticks who were patrolling the streets and appeared to be no more than 10 or I years old. By the time we crossed the Rajpath, a major boulevard in New Delhi, and neared Shastri Bhawan we could see numerous abandoned cars, taxis and trucks in flames. Smoke could be seen arising from virtually every direction in the city. When we arrived at Shastri Bhawan there was a mob of about 250, only 30 of whom seemed to be actively engaged in destruction, systematically smashing and burning one parked vehicle after another in front of the building. A few from the group would first break the windows of the car with iron bars, then douse the inside and outside of the car with gasoline and set it afire by throwing a lighted rag inside. This provoked loud cheers and chants from the crowd. Three vehicles were burned in this manner as we watched from the side. There were a few policemen sitting on a grassy knoll nearby, chatting with each other and ignoring the events taking place within a few metres of where they were situated. A number of owners of vehicles parked nearby discreetly moved their vehicles out of the range of the mob.
We went inside the building and climbed a set of stairs to a small office where we were to talk to the government official in charge of the press arrangements. A few office workers were crowded at the window at the far end of the office looking out at the events below.
The official we spoke to was the very model of reassurance. He claimed that all the arrangements were in place and that we had nothing to be concerned about. The various measures decided upon by the Press Office earlier that day would ensure that all press arrangements for covering the funeral would go smoothly. (They didn’t.) From outside we could hear the sound of yelling and breaking glass.
“Do not worry. We have everything under control.”
We thanked him for his cooperation and he wished us a pleasant day. We descended the stairs, walked outside and got into the car. Our driver left the parking lot and to my surprise, and not inconsiderable concern, started to turn the car in the direction of the mob. I told him to turn in the other direction. To my astonishment, he was remarkably unconcerned and said that we would be OK. I said to him with somewhat greater urgency, “For God’s sake, turn left.”
With a shrug he turned the car to the left, away from the assembled crowd, and took another route down a couple of side streets through a thick haze of black smoke where we saw even more abandoned vehicles on fire. We continued downtown towards Connaught Place where several groups were smashing windows and setting vehicles and buildings on fire. Eventually we retraced some of our route and drove around the back side of the group towards the Rajpath.
We were just bypassing the area where we had been previously when suddenly, from behind us, a singed vehicle with broken windows and a battered exterior, driven by a shaven man, broke out from a side alley next to Shastri Bhawan where the group had been located. The driver was trying to shift the gears on the vehicle and was obviously desperate to get out of the area.
A few laughing and cheering people started to run toward the car waving to others from the group to follow them. The other car seemed to stall as we passed the Rajpath in the direction of the High Commission and out of view.
The locally-engaged staff member who accompanied me on the trip later informed me that the mob had caught up with the vehicle and burned the driver inside the car.
View the original scanned pages →
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 4, No. 3 (1986) — Fall 1986 // Automne 1986, p. 35. Read the rest of this issue →
