The Tribune, Chandigarh, India

Growing urbanisation
Time to end urban-rural contrast

Migration is an age-old phenomenon and migration from rural to urban areas is nothing new. In fast developing India, where a majority of people live in villages, the population outflow to cities has been increasing steadily. Still, the latest census figure that cities in Punjab are growing four times faster than rural areas does call for urgent attention, if not alarm. The higher urban population growth vis a vis rural growth is an indicator of both dwindling opportunities and lack of proper amenities in our rural areas.

Urbanisation, an integral part of growth and development, can’t be wished away. Yet both state governments and the Centre have to meet the challenges that it brings in its wake. Urban congestion which often translates into traffic congestion and thus increased rates of road accidents is one of the many ills that afflict urban India. While the rural urban divide in terms of infrastructure and facilities, be it education or health, continues to grow, even in urban India, few cities, especially metros, are growing at a faster rate, which creates enormous pressure on them. The fact that in Punjab every fifth urban dweller lives in Ludhiana, that by 2030 India will have six megacities with populations of 10 million are both a reflection of skewed urban growth.

While there is an urgent need to develop smaller urban centres and towns, which sadly as of now end up being poor cousins of mega cities, some out of the box solutions too need to be mulled over. Proposals like shifting of government offices away from capitals to smaller towns in the hinterland can help mitigate urban congestion. The contrast between urban and rural landscape too needs to be bridged by providing educational and health facilities to rural India. Development and benefits of modernisation cannot be an a monopoly of only a few megacities. If India’s dream of a developed nation has to be realised all of it has to grow at a steady and uniform pace.

Bangalore by night
It will be a dark place minus its leading lights

Bangalore, like several other Indian towns, does not boast of much of night life. The recent influx of IT whiz kids has livened things up, but only marginally. However, things seem destined to change now. Former Chief Minister HD Kumaraswamy, illustrious son of former Prime Minister H.D. Deve Gowda, pepped up the situation considerably when he called to question the “night life” of none other than retired Supreme Court Judge and former Lokayukta Santosh Hegde. Now, the irrepressible member of the Anna Hazare team, who is known to down a peg or two along with his nephews at the city’s watering holes, is not the one to take things lying down. He hit back in style.

The import of his comment (“I have one wife and one home where I go back after work. Where do you retire for the night?”) was not lost on anyone, at least in Bangalore. The verbal skirmish is certain to light up Bangalore for quite some time. Don’t be surprised if OB vans follow Mr Hegde when he goes for his sundowner, and Mr Kumaraswamy is out, ahem, home-hunting with a glad eye. The latter has not acknowledged that he has got the worst of exchanges, and has threatened to make public the documents he claims to have to prove his allegations. The contours of the counter-attack are likely to be even more interesting.

But the showdown may not actually come, if the senior Deve Gowda has his say. Even otherwise, the night birds may also pipe down, now that the Anna Hazare agitation is no more on the front burner. Whatever be the other consequences, it has at least killed the rumours of a “hidden nexus between Hegde and Kumaraswamy”, which were doing the rounds ever since Mr Hegde’s report into illegal mining mentioned the out-of-turn help extended by Mr Kumaraswamy to a mining company as Chief Minister, but did not make any recommendation against the JD(S) leader.

Thought for the Day

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. — Blaise Pascal

ARTICLE

The change in Nepal
Will it last and deliver?
by S.D. Muni

The Maoists in Nepal have again come to lead the new coalition government. Despite being the largest elected group in the Nepal Constitutional Assembly-cum-Parliament since 2008, they have been forced to cool their heels on the margins of the power structure for the past more than two years. They had quit the government following their rash decision in May 2009 to remove the then army chief on the question of civilian supremacy. Their return to power as the dominant partner in the government has been possible as a result of shifts, first in their own approach towards the issues of peace and constitution making process in Nepal, and then in the attitudes of Nepal’s Madhesh parties and India towards their share in power.

The shift in the Maoists strategy was indicated on two counts. One was the person chosen for parliamentary leadership, Dr Baburam Bhatarai. He has been most successful as the Finance Minister in the first Maoists-led government. His integrity and commitment towards peace and democratic transition of the Maoists is well regarded among other political parties and the international community. The Maoists have come out of serious internal churning on the question of leadership responsibilities where its chairman, Mr Pushpa Kamal Dahal, alias Prachanda, was forced to share power within the party with his other senior colleagues, Dr Bhattarai and Mr Mohan Baidya ‘Kiran’.

On the other, a far more important, count, the Maoists have decided through their internal debate to give priority to the completion of the peace process by hastening the process of ‘integration’ of their armed cadres. They came with time-bound steps to regroup these cadres, integrate 8000 of them in the security forces and send the rest back home with adequate compensation (7 to 10 lakhs of rupees). This whole process has been set to be completed within a period of 45 days. This was done in response to the repeated demands of the other political parties and the international community that Maoists cannot be welcomed in the national mainstream without dissolving their instruments of power and force such as the armed cadres and the militant Youth Communist League.

India’s policy calculations in Nepal had been seriously disturbed by the results of Nepal’s Constituent Assembly elections in April 2008 which brought up Maoists as the largest single group. With some difficulty, India accepted their leadership of the government in 2008, on the principles of democracy. However, soon, within a period of eight months, the suspected Maoists attempted to dominate the army; through the sacking of the then army chief, Gen Katawal, and the prospects of Nepal opening up to China by encouraging frequent and high-level exchanges at various levels rattled the strategically oriented mandarins in South Block.

The Maoists increased their trust deficit with the Indian policy makers by falling short of their promises, on a number of sensitive issues, to India, including Indian business and security interests. India accordingly backed and encouraged all possible non-Maoist political formations and coalitions to retain power in Nepal. In the process, the Indian approach even resulted in the fragmentation of Madhes political groups and legitimacy to the anti-Indian rhetoric in Nepal raised by the Maoists and other vested interests.

There came a time in 2010-11 when the Indian Ambassador became the most unpopular diplomat in Nepal coming under an unprecedented situation of being hurled shoes and stones at. This Indian policy significantly contributed to the deepening stalemate on peace and constitution making process in Nepal and none of the long-term national interests of India could be pursued smoothly. The indication of a shift in India’s policy can be discerned in the way all the Nepali Madhesi groups have forged an alliance with the Maoists and accepted them to lead the government. Even if India did not engineer this alliance, a slight reservation on India’s part towards the Maoist-Madhes coalition could stall it from taking shape.

The new government in Nepal has aroused great hopes and expectations and the new Prime Minister has been widely acclaimed. But how long the government will last and whether it will be able to deliver on the promise of peace and constitution will really depend on a couple of critical factors. The very first and most decisive is, of course, the fact if the shifts in the positions of the Maoists and Indian policy underlined above are strategic or only tactical. One hopes that the Maoists have not changed their stance just to come to power, and would carry the process of peace and constitution making through a broad-based consensus to its logical end.

One also hopes that India is not just interested in letting the Maoists’ armed cadres dispersed, or make them unpopular through failed governance, but is, in fact, looking forward to re-establishing a sincerely working rapport with the Maoists to push them constructively towards building a new Nepal and promoting India’s long-term national interests in this sensitive neighbourhood in challenging times. Instabilty and chaos is Nepal cannot serve India’s interests, particularly when there are powerful forces both within and outside Nepal to exploit this chaos and India’s flawed policy moves to India’s detriment.

If both the Maoists and India are serious about what is being stated by them, they would do well in directing their efforts towards broadening the present coalition into a government of national consensus. The new Maoist Prime Minister, Dr Bhattarai, has done well to reach out to the main opposition parties, the Nepali Congress and the Communist party- United Marxist Leninist (UML) for national consensus immediately after his assumption of office. As the new Prime Minister pushes on the agenda of integration of the armed Maoists cadres, the trust deficit between the Maoists and the other political groups narrow down nudging these political parties to come forward to build a broad national consensus on critical issues, even if their internal contradictions do not allow them to join a Maoists-led government.

The Nepali Congress must, however, recall that it was their understanding and cooperation with the Maoists that initiated the great transition in Nepal from a feudal to a progressive democratic order through Janandolan-II in 2005-2006. The aspirations of the Nepalese people aroused by Janandolan-II cannot be fulfilled and there cannot be any lasting peace or a credible democratic constitutional system in Nepal until these two main political forces cooperate with each other.

The Nepali Congress owes it to the Nepali people and their own political future to respond to the call of the hour. India enjoys considerable goodwill and influence among the democratic political forces in Nepal, particularly the Nepali Congress, and it should gear its diplomatic energies softly towards bringing Nepal’s decisive and critical future makers together. This is in India’s lasting interests as well.

The writer is Visiting Research Professor, Institute of South Asian Studies, Singapore.

MIDDLE

Knight in shining armour
by Suresh Chander

I love the army stories, Nana.” That was the youngest of my grandchildren interrupting my narration of events when we were surrounded by 20-30 elephants near the foothills of Bomdilla, a few months after the Chinese war. Our grandchildren were listening to every word with rapt attention. I continued with details that are likely to tickle the imagination of the children.

“I turned down the hurricane lamp and tucked in the mosquito net to sleep for the night. Just then the sentry on duty shouted that our camp of about 70 men was surrounded by elephants. There was massive trumpeting and the elephants menacingly kept coming closer. The brave jawans promptly lit five-six stacks of fire that kept the elephants at bay.”

The little ones are fascinated by these stories and want to know every detail - including uncomfortable information. Their favourite was: How many enemy had I killed in various wars? I skirt these as skillfully and truthfully as I can and explain that most battles and skirmishes take place at night and with bullets flying all over, it is difficult to tell who hit who. Some times my wife plays the spoil sport by saying that Nana has never even fired a shot in anger. They are, however, too engrossed to pay attention to such comments. At the end of each story, they make me feel as if I am the most decorated war veteran to have graced their young lives.

Growing children love guns, tanks, horses and outdoor activities. I have been taking them to regimental get-togethers. They are thrilled by the tank rides, or merely feeding carrots to the horses and watching the training of dogs. There are, of course, stories of my army life connected to each activity that I am delighted to tell them that they never tire of listening . Their Nani keeps accusing me that my tales keep getting more and more colourful. She is obviously jealous of the attention that I get. Anyone will tell you that the real life happenings can hardly be interesting unless peppered and padded at the right places.

My daughters, having been brought up on similar fodder, mostly set the children up to tell the various stories: How I shot the neighbouring battalion’s mascot in the wilds of Nagaland , mistaking it for a genuine wild boar; or when I was trapped with six Jat jawans in a blizzard at 16000 ft. It was then up to me to make some faux pas into a heroic deed — somewhat like slaying a dragon by default.

In due course the inevitable happened. The Growing joy of our lives were sold on the Army. I too was convinced that I would again join the Indian forces if I were to re-live my life again - a far cry from my earlier shaky conviction. Imagine if I were to tell my grandchildren in their tender years that I was an investment banker at Wall Street and narrate stories of my encounter with financial gurus like Warren Buffet or Carl Icahn or incidents of financial upheavals and meltdowns and millions that I made. No sir, I would never get the attention of the little ones and the feeling of having been a “knight in shining armour”.

OPED — ART

Memorial Museum on Ground Zero
The museum on ground zero offers different ways in which 9/11 was experienced and interpreted; the violence and victimisation, heroism and steadfast persistence of the world coming together and of the world coming apart.
George Jacob

In the cavernous gaping hole at the 8-acre memorial site of the 9/11,2001, attacks in New York that killed 2,974 people from 70 countries, a 120,000 sq.ft. museum is in the making underground symbolising rebirth, resilience and remembrance.

Large, enigmatic artefacts returned to the site tell a story of enormity of destruction.

Scheduled to open in September 2012, the National September 11 Memorial Museum at the World Trade Center will enshrine the traumatic and transformative event experienced around the world affirming triumph of human dignity over depravity. Witnessed by an estimated one-third of humanity, the attacks are sure to trigger strong opinions and conflicting emotions in virtually everyone who comes to the Museum. While the meaning of 9/11 will continue to influence the American way of life for many years to come, the world continues to grapple with its rippling implications even after the terrorist mastermind Osama bin Laden was killed in a daring, swift US Navy SEAL covert commando operation inside Pakistan's hamlet of Abbottabad on May 2, 2011.

Finally a museum for Bhuj Earthquake
Our memory seems to be short, our sense of creating memorials shorter. Hundreds of brave Indian jawans lost their lives defending our borders on the icy slopes of Kargil, leaving thousands wounded on the world's highest battleground in 1999. On 26/11 terrorists unleashed a wave of death in Mumbai, killing 184, wounding 308 and plunging the nation into its darkest days of grappling with an unforeseen urban warfare of sorts in 2008. Amidst strewn garbage in Bhopal, a small statue caged inside a metal grill stands as a lone reminder to the greatest tragic loss of life in the 1984 chemical disaster causing 11,787 deaths, 558,125 injuries, perhaps it is time to re-think how we remember and honour loss of life and dignify it with befitting tributes enshrined not in apathy and neglect, but with an enduring sense of compassion. In 2001, a 7.7 scale tremor struck Kutch in Gujarat killing 20,000 including 12,297 in Bhuj, injuring 167,000, destroying 400,000 homes with shockwaves leaving 600,000 people homeless for miles around.
In July this year, Rs 20 Crores were released towards establishing the first phase of a Museum and Memorial in honour of the Bhuj Earthquake victims atop a 400 acre multi-use site on Bhujiyo hill, which will eventually include a convention center and a residential annexe.

Memorial rests on unanswered questions

In its function as a memorial, it will offer comfort and finality to loss. As a museum, it will embody the reality of this tragedy in perspective. There are no simple answers and no single redemptive narrative. Its conception required ongoing consultation with survivors of the attacks and families of victims, as well as with the larger public that felt its impact. This has taken many forms, one of which is a formal conversation series engaging family members, survivors of the attacks, and communities around the World Trade Center. Their comments have substantially shaped the exhibit experience through a sustained dialogue raising and resolving extremely contentious issues pertaining inclusion or exclusion of particular artefacts, the way sensitive material should be presented, and the depiction of perpetrators. There has also been an ongoing conversation with religious leaders affecting a range of decisions in the way matters of faith are referenced in exhibits and where to locate the New York Office of Chief Medical Examiner's repository of unidentified human remains at the Memorial site- inaccessible to the public but designated as a place of respect.

How it manifests into the design of the exhibit experience is of vital significance to millions who will visit the museum. Three principles, in particular, have shaped the exhibits. First, people who come to this museum will bear within them their own experience of 9/11. This needs to be acknowledged and utilised as an essential part of their experience, and incorporated into exhibits and programmes. Second, people arrive with varied expectations and needs- some have been severely traumatised by 9/11 while others will feel the need to experience 9/11 as an event that reshaped their world. Third, it is arguably the most documented event in modern history with countless photographs, videos, recordings of spoken witness, digital reconstructions and other electronic and material evidence that speaks for itself- devoid of the need for any curatorial interpretation.

To incorporate these principles into the design, the curatorial and design teams first developed a sequence of experiences through which people descend 70 ft to the Bedrock level. This descent begins from a subterranean overlook onto the north and south volumes created by square depressions of the memorial pools at the surface. These voids become volumes, the size of the fallen towers. It allows people to orient themselves prior to entering the narrative of 9/11. An introductory exhibition is situated on a long, descending ramp that zigzags its way through an open space. The exhibit begins with voices of people recalling the moment accompanied by their words projected in many languages as a map of the world. The exhibit then moves from the perspective of a global witness, to photographs of local witnesses.

On site are in situ remains of the towers as well as artefacts that have been re-introduced to it: large pieces of steel, a segment of the enormous antenna from atop North Tower, a half- crushed fire truck, windings of a huge elevator motor bearing a silent witness to the enormity of destruction. An adjacent space holds the re-erected "Last Column"- the final piece of steel to be removed in the recovery effort bearing graffiti and memorial photographs from the different recovery agencies and workers.

A square inside a square

Beneath the architectural volume of the south pool is a memorial exhibition that honours the lives of those who were killed in the attacks on 9/11 and in the bombing of the World Trade Center on February 26, 1993. Like the memorial pools at ground level, it is a square within a square, forming a perimeter and core. The perimeter makes reference to "the many" through photographic portraits of all of the victims of the attacks and a changing display of personal effects. The core speaks to "the one" through a succession of individual portraits composed of photographs projected onto its smooth walls and remembrances spoken by friends and family members. Situating it on the archaeological site is a glass floor through which a large section of original foundation's concrete bedrock is visible.

The narrative exhibition beneath the North Tower volume contains the most sensitive material in the Museum. Its first part, which deals with the day itself, is designed with three distinct paths that enable people to seek out what is important to them, and avoid what is intolerable. The central path is a journey through the day as it was experienced and witnessed by those in the vicinity and the millions watching in horror as the day unfolded. The perimeter path presents a more ordered account of the day: a timeline of the events on the ground and in the air, as well as quotes from official responders from around the country that convey their subjective experience as they went about their work throughout 9/11. At the central core of the exhibit path is the most difficult material in the Museum, partially sheltered from view and hearing. This includes painful, first person accounts from the Trade Towers and the hijacked aircraft, recorded by 9/11 operators, on answering machines, cockpit flight recorders and air traffic control frequencies.

The core also includes photographs of people who jumped from the burning towers before they collapsed. After lengthy discussions about these images with family members, some of whom felt these were essential to showing what happened that day, others preferred they not be shown, it was decided to make a discrete, straightforward presentation of still photographs standing as witness to the hard choice that some had to make. The final descent to the base of the site will take visitors alongside the Vesey Street Stair remnant - also known as the "Survivor Stairs," which was used by hundreds to escape the destruction of the Towers on 9/11.

Visitors select their own narrative

Of importance to people's ability to choose their own path and formulate their own experience is the simultaneous presence of many different narratives. These are not simply multiple accounts or stories but fundamentally ways in which 9/11 was experienced and interpreted including narratives of violence and victimisation, of heroism and rescue, of steadfast persistence, of the world coming together and of the world coming apart laced with audio recordings, text quotes, video, photographs and artefacts. The Museum is a "here-and-now" experience in the first person, a present-tense encounter with the evidence of the events; a kind of pilgrimage to the still-raw site of the attacks. The historical 9/11, as it is depicted through objects and narrative, is meant to be felt as "there and then;" a distinct, past-tense reality that is experienced in the second or third person through the materials that have been assembled by the curatorial team.

The design team, which included a consulting psychologist, found that their own intra-team dynamics at times revealed gaps in their approach to the exhibit experience. In one design review, for instance, a series of heated exchanges led to the realisation that explicit expressions of the violence of the attacks were left out of the design in an attempt to avoid re-traumatising visitors, ignoring the essence of the story. This enabled a vocabulary for violence, coded in thrusting and scattering exhibition forms, that both filled the gap in the exhibition narrative.

Museum Director Alice Greenwald firmly believes that by demonstrating the consequences of terrorism on individual lives and communities, human beings as a society can rise above the vortex of violence.

The author is a Smithsonian trained museologist whose work spans 11 countries.