Opinion - WHAT do Akbari, 85, a 9-month-old baby and rickshaw puller Prem Singh have in common? All three were killed during an orgy of violence instigated by India’s ruling party.
On February 16, I participated in a solidarity march in Durban - an event that was under threat due to authorities being misled by divisive agents.
The aim of the march was to raise awareness about discriminatory and unconstitutional legislation passed in India, leading to 75 days of mass protests that faced a deadly crackdown by their government.
My solidarity is not limited. I have been aware of India’s struggles for years. There are social media platforms on which millions of Indians share their views and experiences.
One anti-discrimination group has over 240 000 members.
In Kerala, over 7 million people protested against the supremacist legislation.
Some Indians are tired of apartheid-style fascism and a nepotistic economy where India’s richest 1% hold more than four times the wealth of 953 million people, the bottom 70% of the population, and where women and children suffer horrific violence.
While the march was powerful, supported by stalwarts like Zulekha Mayet, Judge Thumba Pillay, Dr Betty Govinden, Dr Devi Rajab and others, it was targeted by distorted and deceptive rhetoric.
Pillay experienced intimidation. He asked how he would live with himself if Indians had to leave South Africa, but Muslims were excluded.
I wondered what would happen if the South African government welcomed all refugees, except Hindus?
Vitriolic attacks compelled me to be objective.
I acknowledge opposition is based on two premises.
One: that minorities are discriminated against in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Bangladesh.
Two: that this is an Indian crisis and South Africans have no right to an opinion.
Let us speak to one. Like many, I too condemn discrimination against minorities, whether it occurs in South Africa, India, Palestine, the US, Pakistan or anywhere else.
Many issues faced by these countries are a result of colonisation rooted in a divide-and-conquer strategy.
India and Pakistan were once one. It pains many to see the results of the destructive Faustian fracture, but colonialists must be smiling in their graves.
India’s current rulers had nothing to do with its independence in 1947.
The problem is that the Narendra Modi government’s Citizenship Amendment Act welcomes all minorities, except Muslims.
This bigotry is a threat to and violation of India’s secular constitution. The irony is that the BJP claims to care for minorities, but in the last week over 40 people died at the hands of mobs who were protected by police.
Hundreds have been injured and thousands are homeless.
The problem with the National Register of Citizens is that people are required to prove citizenship by producing copious documents. Up to 15 different documents is still not considered enough.
In Assam, 2 million human beings were rendered stateless. Dalits, referred to as “untouchables” by the elite, do not have access to documents.
The pogrom against progressive Muslims and Hindus resulted in burnt homes, shops, vehicles and documents. Gujarat comes to mind.
Indians resisting in Delhi, Shaheen Bagh, Azadi and other places are not blind to the Nazi masquerade.
Demonised as terrorists, they resist detention and concentration camps that erode India’s 74-year-old democracy.
But as parliamentarian Mahua Moitra expressed in her fiery address in India’s Lok Sabha on February 3, loyalty is standing up when dictators rule.
Our government is yet to take a position on this dystopian crisis. Perhaps we are at the mercy of influential groups.
Which brings me to the second criticism. The world stood with us against apartheid, and even now against gender-based violence, corruption, and a widening chasm between the elite and the rest. We cannot be silent.
During my interactions with people who fall prey to Hitler-inspired hate speech, I proposed a discussion and protest against human rights abuses on the subcontinent.
British MP Debbie Abrahams recently had her Indian visa revoked due to her
position on the revocation of Article 370 in the Indian constitution, abrogating Kashmir’s autonomy.
I am reminded of that witch-hunt saying: “First they came for communists. I said nothing. Then they came for the Jews, Christians and Muslims. I said nothing. Then they came for us, but there was nobody left.”
People are incited by slogans like “Goli Maaro Kutto Ko!”, meaning shoot the dogs. Not surprising, considering the ruling class’s relationship with Israel.
In January, doctors told India TV that over 10 female students were sexually assaulted.
The BJP lost in the nation’s capital, Delhi. Delhi is being taught a lesson.
Meanwhile, journalists are attacked and Justice S Muralidharan, who tried to stop the incitement, was transferred.
At the march, I was approached by a well-wisher concerned I would not get an Indian visa. The xenophobic government is controlling internet use to suppress dissent.
My ancestors came from India. This year we commemorate 160 years of their arrival as slaves. Still, my solidarity is sometimes met with anti-Hindu accusations.
Like Zionism, imperialism and Wahhabism, all extremism is dangerous. No wonder US President Donald Trump and Saudi Arabia’s Mohammad bin Salman are signing weapons deals with Modi.
I grew up next to neighbours of all faiths. I strive to walk the talk, standing with people from different walks of life.
Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu. I am because you are, we are because of each other. I am heartened to see South Africans stand against the hatred and violence seen in photos and videos from India.
Cape Town and Johannesburg have peace and solidarity events. Globally, there are protests against discrimination and the politics of fear.
“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” said Martin Luther King jr.
We show solidarity because the power of the people must be stronger than people in power.
In the words of Arundhati Roy: “We have work to do. And a world to win.”
Amandla to India’s people, and viva Azaadi!