Thoughts on the Emergency

03.30.04 | 5 Comments | Filed Under Uncategorized

For some reason, I am continually bugged with thoughts of the Emergency, the greatest blot on Indian democracy. I was born a couple of years before it was clamped, and I can fuzzily recollect an admonition by my dad who asked me “not to take her name loudly in public,” or something to that effect.

That democracy is so vulnerable to be slipped inside the gloves of dictatorship was proved–in the Indian context at least–by this singular feat (?). What’s more, the quasi-dictatorship Emergency continued for almost two years–19 months, to be precise. Although Indira Gandhi was soundly defeated in 1977, she had done irreparable damage to the face of Indian politics forever. Corruption was legalized, hoodlums and thugs began to realize that politics was “safer” than streetfighting: the results speak for themselves–cast a look at the eminences that occupy positions of power in the UP Assembly (I won’t even mention Bihar), or for that matter, a more “progressive/prosperous” state like Karnataka that boasts of a goonda who goes by the name, D.K.Shivakumar.

Credit for the thuggification of Indian politics should rightly belong to Sanjay Gandhi. I dug up some stuff about the Emergency and found some delightful tidbits, all for your reading pleasure:

Khushwant Singh, Journalist and author: I was in Mexico attending a conference when the Emergency was announced. Like everyone I was shocked. Though I supported the Emergency, I didn’t approve of fetters on the press. Because of censorship, two issues of the Illustrated Weekly of India didn’t come out. [...]Actually, the article he meant was published in Femina. By the time I returned to office, pre-censorship orders had reached. I immediately called up Mrs Gandhi. H.Y. Sharada Prasad picked up the phone. I told him what had happened and in no time pre-censorship was removed. The only other editor who had a good time vis-a-vis censorship in Bombay was Vinod Mehta, then editing Debonair. Then Mrs Gandhi sent for me. I explained to her why she was wrong about the Indian Express. Her stock reply was “There can be no Emergency without gagging the press.”

Chandrashekhar (former Prime Minister): In the evening I was at the Young Indian Office at Connaught Place. Jayaprakash Narayan and others were holding the meeting at the Ramlila Ground at around five or six in the evening. Then BP Koirala and another friend asked me out for a movie. We went to Rivoli and saw a Hindi movie. After that, we dined out at Kwality. By 11 pm my friends dropped me back at 3, Safdarjung Road. Dayanand Sahay, a friend from Bihar, was staying with me. He told me that JP made a great speech. I told him that this is the last day for all such speeches. [...]I went to sleep. I was woken up at 3.30 am by a phone call. It was Radhakrishna from the Gandhi Peace Foundation telling me that the police had come to arrest JP. I asked Sahay to see whether there were policemen outside my house. There weren’t any. I went over to JP’s and trailed him till the Parliament Street police station where they had taken him. Then the Superintendent of Police (Intelligence) came, took me aside and told me that a car had come to take JP away and that he didn’t have the guts to tell JP. He also told me that he had a warrant for me. JP was taken away and I was brought to my home. The officer told me to make as many calls as I wanted and kept saying that Mrs Gandhi “had gone mad.”

Kuldip Nayar, Journalist: The day almost passed off peacefully only to be broken by a midnight call at home. Someone from Bhopal wanted to know why the streets were teeming with policemen. Half asleep, I promised him I would check up and hung up. Seconds later, there was another call, this time from my office. The caller informed that the electricity to all newspaper offices in Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg had been snapped. This was followed by another call from Irfan Khan of Everyman’s Weekly, a magazine started by JP, who informed me of arrests of leaders like JP, Morarji Desai and Chandrashekhar. Badly shaken I called up the Principal Information Officer (PIO) and the Information Secretary to confirm what I had heard. No information was available. Only two papers — The Hindustan Times and The Statesman — could come out that day because they were supplied power by the New Delhi Municipality and not the Delhi Municipal Corporation, which had received the orders to black out newspaper offices. [...] On the way to office, I went to the Press Information Bureau (PIB) to meet Harry D’Penha. He had changed overnight into another person. “Pre-censorship has been imposed. You will have to bring the paper to me before it goes to press everyday,” he thundered. Power cuts were still on in Bahadur Shah Zafar Marg. A few papers like The Hindustan Times and The Statesman had planned supplements on the morning of June 26. But by the time The Statesman’s proof-page of the supplement came back with heavy cuts from the PIB, there was a power cut. The Hindustan Times, however, was published, but withdrawn from the market later. Motherland, the Jana Sangh paper, was the only one to come out with a supplement. Its press was later sealed. Even senior ministers like Jagjivan Ram and Yashwant Rao Chavan, both opposed to Mrs Gandhi, were stunned. When I went to see Ram he removed the receiver off the telephone. All that he told me was that he would be arrested any time. I saw intelligence men noting down car numbers and names of people visiting him. That night the triumphant duo of Sanjay Gandhi and Bansi Lal were celebrating. “As I had expected, not a single dog barked,” remarked Bansi Lal.

Prabhas Joshi, Journalist: The Delhi between 1975-77 witnessed many horrors unleashed by Jagmohan, then vice-chairman of Delhi Development Authority, Sanjay Gandhi, Maneka Gandhi, Rukhsana Sultan and others. Be it the demolition and killing near Turkman Gate or the forced sterilisation programme, the city will never forgive them. Sanjay behaved like a crown prince. He would drive his Matador at great speed with Rukhsana in tow. His favourite song was, “Rukhsana yun na ghabrana, tere mere pyar ko kya karega jamana…” I don’t want those days to visit India again.

And with this, I’ll go on a hunt for books about on Emergency.

Tags:

timeline

5 Comments

Leave your comment

You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.

If this is the first time you are commenting, your comment maybe held in moderation. Please wait till I approve it.

You can use these tags:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

:

: